Best Roads:

Michigan 26 Michiganés Route 26 runs north west from the Ontonogan River to the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula. Ités a great ride through Michiganés Copper Country: a well maintained two lane with light traffic; full of easy curves, big sweepers, rolling hills and a few small towns. There is a lot of local traffic passing through downtown Houghton and Hancock, but its an easy route to follow. Once in the Keweenaw, the route shifts north to reach the shore of Lake Superior at Eagle River. The "Best Roads Patch" section begins here, and continues about 30 miles to Copper Harbor. The road follows the shore line, with a fairly constant progression of curves combined with rolling hills.. At first the Lake is seldom visible, as the road is wooded on both sides. Beware of wildlife here. Deer are abundant. On one run through I saw a dark blur running through the thicket on my right. My wife, following in the van, identified the blur as a black bear. At Eagle Harbor you roll around a beautiful bay, beware of beach sand blown into the curves. Soon after this Lake Superior is almost constantly visible on your left, the shoreline a moonscape of fractured bedrock beaten by wind and waves. The curves become more frequent and tighter, the hills closer together. Traffic is generally light, but there are occasional slow moving RVés, so be alert in the blind curves, of which there are a lot. I donét recall a single stop sign from Eagle River to Copper Harbor, so when you see one, thatés the end of the line. Turn left on US 41 and you are only a few hundred yards from the village of Copper Harbor. Go straight across the road, and you can ascend 600 vertical feet in 2 miles of tight switch backs to reach the top of Brockway Mountain. From there you can see all of the Keweenaw Peninsula, and across the Lake toward Isle Royale. For more local interest on M-26, stop at the General Store in Eagle Harbor (in business since the 1860és) and at the Jam Pot, (a bakery run by monks) near Jacobés Falls. Load up on goodies, and have a picnic at the Brockway Mountain Overlook. Sit on the cliff, watch the eagles soaring a hundred feet below you, and celebrate. You just had a great ride, and earned patch.

Deadman -- If a word is misspelled in the dictionary, how would we ever know?

Georgia:

One Big Happy Family! I was fortunate to be able to make a "Cabin Fever" run to West Georgia this winter with one of my good friends Lawrence Kok. Our mission was to visit club member Phil "Rocker" Block and get in some winter riding. The trip was discussed this summer at Phil's cottage and Phil and his wife, Lisa, encouraged us to visit. After checking with Phil on the best time for good winter riding, we decided to go in late February. þ We left on a thursday at 6:30 p.m. from Grand Rapids, MI and wonderful winter weather (No surprise!) accompanied us all the way to Phil's house with snow and freezing rain through Michigan and Ohio and heavy rain in Kentucky, Tennessee and Georgia. After a 4:30 A.M. breakfast stop at a Waffle House restaurant, (I highly recommend a double order of hash browns with everything, including chili on top, to start a day out right) we made the last five hour leg to Carrollton, Georgia. For geographical reference, Carrollton is located approximately one hour east of Atlanta. Upon arriving, we were greeted by Phil and his two sons. After driving sixteen hours straight, we were ready for some rest. I, however, was so buzzed from the six pack of twenty ounce Cherry Cokes I had consumed in an effort to keep Lawrence the steadfast commander of our van awake that I asked for a beer to knock me out. Phil had not been to the store to stock up on beer and other necessities for our visit but did offer me some sacred and carefully hidden genuine Georgia backwoods moonshine from a source that I am unable to disclose. Needless to say, we slept for a good six or seven hours and awoke rested to experience all the roads and culture of Georgia has to offer. % Our first experience of Georgia culture occurred that evening at the Outpost Music Barn. The Outpost is a music venue located in a pole barn a short distance outside Carrollton. The clientele are mostly older folks clad in bib overalls and the like who recline in old church pews, folding chairs and other vintage furniture. The musicians performed rousing renditions of blue grass style music featuring southern baptist themes and some original compositions. If you get a chance to visit Phil and Lisa, make the Outpost part of your itinerary.› Saturday morning came early and we ventured off to Roberta, Georgia for a vintage "Observed Trials" competition. For those of you unfamiliar with trials, I'll explain. In trials, one rides a small, stand up dirt bike and goes through a series of off-road sections observed by a "checker." The sections vary in terrain from up and down hills and gullies to over rocks and logs. The objective is to get through each section without placing your feet on the ground. Depending on skill level, a rider will take different lines through the sections from "Beginner" to "Expert." The lowest score is the best. Putting your foot down is one point, twice is two points, three or more times is a three and if you stop or stall your bike it's a five. Phil and his friend Dave competed in the trials and Lawrence and I checked a section. We were unable to compete as we only had room in the van for our two BMW street bikes. Sunday brought us to our first road riding of the trip. Phil on his Triumph, his friend Roberto on Phil's Harley Davidson, and Lawrence and myself on our BMW's. The ride was delicious. We swept through the curvy, on camber turns of the perfectly paved Georgia country roads. The ride, however, was tainted by several mechanical failures. The first being Lawrence's front end seeming to wash out excessively. After a roadside inspection using a large chunk of concrete as a lift we deemed his front end okay and proceeded with our ride. A short time later, Phil pulled off to a country church parking lot with a suspected faulty speedometer cable. The diagnosis was much worse. Apparently, the starter in the clutch had remained engaged and ground itself to a metallic pulp. We did an emergency oil drop in the parking lot thanks to empty oil containers found at a nearby logging company shop. The prognosis seems good. No metal appeared to have reached the bottom end of the motor or the oil filter. Phil and Roberto headed back to retrieve a pickup to haul the sick horse back to its stable. Needing to complete the "Good (or bad) things come in threes adage, the charging system on my bike started to experience problems which would later be diagnosed as a worn out rotor in the alternator. Ò Our week in Georgia progressed nicely with the opportunity to meet Phil's friends. As expected, Phil has made friends with the most culturally and intellectually interesting people in Carrollton. His friend, Roberto, who I mentioned earlier owns an excellent Mexican restaurant called the Lazy Donkey. A must eat for those who have a chance to visit. His friend Gordon is a metal sculptor with an amazing shop full of old motorcycles and other assorted kitsch. P We did some great riding in Alabama as well as the mountains of northern Georgia. One day we took Georgia highway 100 up into the Cloudland Canyon State Park. This is an excellent destination for a one day sport/touring trip. At first, we anticipated being slowed down by local traffic but even the logging trucks kept up our pace.P The roads are absolutely wonderful. The scenery and weather are near perfect for riding in the winter months. I have numerous pictures of the trip and will look upon them fondly for years to come. Anyone who has the chance to get away to this winter haven for motorcycling should make it a point to indulge their mind and machine.

C-dog

4 Day Trip:

Here is a brief account of Ride Motorcycle’s 4-day excursion through the Amish country, the Virginia Mountains, Ohio, and several other attractions. As the sun rose on a pleasant, cloudy, June morning, Dr. Deadman (750 Honda Interceptor), Dr. Thunderfoot (1200 Kawasaki Vulcan), and Scooter (700 Honda Shadow)departed from Grand Rapids towards Toledo, where Truder (1400 Suzuki Intruder) joined the gang. The non-stop 750-mile push to Manheim, PA, was safe and timely. After meeting our host, an acquaintance of Dr. Deadman, we hosed the dust and bugs off and traveled an interesting country route in search of a much needed meal. "The Catacombs," an old beer and wine cellar in Mt. Joy, provided us with a very historic atmosphere and generous, individually prepared feasts. Exhausted and well-fed, the group retired for the night, thankful for having reached their destination safely and anticipating the upcoming events. The following morning began with a leisurely stroll through a scenic park and several Pennsylvania Amish communities. After a hearty breakfast the group continued along country roads that were void of power lines and frequented by Amish horse carriages. The Amish farms and houses were very attractive and well-maintained; traditional Amish quality. After browsing through the Amish shops in Intercourse, PA, the group continued on various roads over the Susquehanna River, where we then departed with our host/motorcycle tour guide. (By the way, John, thanks a ton for the lodging and Pennsylvania tour.) From this point we meandered through numerous routes (translation: we got lost and headed in a general direction) until we stumbled upon our Hotel in Hagerstown, PA. We dined in one of the local restaurants and met Chuck, a RIDE member from the Hagerstown area. We talked for a while, because the conversation was good and it was severely storming outside, and got to know Chuck and his interests. He is a very likable and enthusiastic cyclist. At the time we met him, he was planning a 50+ bike tour of Civil War battle fields (many of which are within several hours of Hagerstown). After going our separate ways, Deadman, Thunderfoot, Truder, and Scooter crashed at their hotel, encouraged by the events of the day and awaiting the challenges of day 3. With gear secured and gas tanks brimming, the group departed Hagerstown early Thursday morning and prepared to careen through the mountains of Virginia via US 50. Fortunately, the group was only locked behind slow traffic once while the inviting hills and scenery gently rolled by. After a series of hairpin turns and creative maneuvering, the four members decided to take a short lunch break at the summit of one of Virginia’s gentle mountains. Although the menu items were limited to what was left in the refrigerator (the food truck seemed to have forgotten to stock this out-of-the-way restaurant), we enjoyed a fulfilling southern meal and proceeded onward. Meandering through the hills, the elevation decreased as the temperature increased, leaving us in a breezeless, humid, 89 degrees at the base of a mountain valley. After several more stretches of cycling along US 219, our group stopped heading south and we shifted our route west onto US 33. This road provided our riding party with plenty of adrenaline and gear-shifting. Yessir, engines rumbled and floorboards and footpegs scraped along white-knuckle hairpin corners while the four riders were put to the test of endurance. Needless to say, the challenge on US 33 was mentally exhausting and the heat was physically draining. We grazed at a gas station for around 20 minutes as we calmed our nerves and discussed the joy of riding with two other riders we encountered. They accompanied us for the next few miles as we rolled into Spencer, West Virginia, Truder’s childhood town. After thoroughly enjoying a heartily cooked southern roast, prepared by Truder’s gracious in-laws, our group enjoyed the town’s highlights and retired from a trying and exhausting day of cycling in one of Americas more scenic areas. Friday was our final day of this 2000-mile trip. We fueled our bellies at Mom’s restaurant (we were served by "Mom" herself!) and planned the day’s two objectives; survive Ohio 555 and make it home. For those of you who have never heard of Ohio 555, you are part of a majority. Those who frequent the 555 are either looking to escape civilization or seeking a unique thrill. Ohio 555 was described by Dr. Thunderfoot as "a paved cowpath," meaning few of the many hills have been partially leveled and very few of the road direction signs are slightly representative of the terrain. Ohio 555 cannot be realistically described, it has to be experienced. And what an experience it was. After taking a short breather from the 555, we set course for Michigan. Although the series of flat Michigan cornfields were dismal when compared to the places we had scene, the familiar roads leading to home were welcomed by all. RIDE Motorcycle provides patches for "patch roads," meaning roads that possess either extraordinary scenery or exceptional challenge to cyclists. On this trip, cyclists were able to earn three patches; the Ohio 555, the US 50 (WV), and the WV 219-250-220. I, Scooter, am a first-year member of RIDE Motorcycle Club, and this was the first group ride I participated in. Despite the uniqueness of the group members, we were all drawn together by our common sense of enjoying America from a new perspective – motorcycling. The trip was an abundance of hearty meals, great fellowship, new friends, and safe, enjoyable riding. Needless to say, I am enthusiastic to enjoy future experiences with the members of RIDE.

Scooter