Our Intrepid Riders

Nothing like a ride through New York City to get the ol' blood pumping...

Kevin has led the Lehigh Valley HOG chapter through the Big Apple on more than one occasion, and is getting to be a pretty good tour guide in his own right. So, when a fellow LVH member announced he was organizing a ride to the Intrepid Musuem, which is an aircraft carrier docked in the city, it immediately was put on our our to-do list. Donna was not at all interested; who the hell would want to get killed riding in NYC? Of all the ways to die...

Well, when she got there it was a totally different story. Riding across I-80 on another drippy, crappy day (like every other friggin weekend this year?) we hit the city via the George Washington Bridge. I might note at this time that this is also part of I-95 - see posts below. Anyway, the way to the museum was pretty uneventful; the NYC chapter had met us in NJ, and they always do a great job taking care of us when we visit. It's a straight shot down the West Side Highway. The museum was really cool, and was time well spent. And then...

Time for a ride through the concrete canyons. Kev invited any interested brave souls to follow him on a route through Times Square, and down to Hogs and Heifers for a shot and a beer. Donna was all adrenaline and all smiles. No longer sorry she agreed to ride, she was totally on her game and having the time of her life. And not a moment too soon, as it would turn out; our ride down Broadway is now impossible to duplicate. The street has been closed to traffic in Times Square.

Incidentally, during this ride was born the Legend of Donna's Lucky Rainsuit. A quick check of the weather showed a menacing green blob headed across Allentown and on a direct collision course with our return path via I-78. For the umpteenth time, that rainsuit would remain dry against all odds. Including Milwaukee, that suit has been hauled probably 3,000 miles under some of the darkest skies imaginable, and has never been wet. We should sell it and make a fortune.

The Scene of the Crime

This is a weekend we have been long looking forward to. We've been away overnight together, and we actually did have the bikes in Atlantic City, but that was a quick blast down the AC Expressway and they stayed parked for the weekend. This weekend is our first real time on the road together - doing what we do best.

We purposely decided to make our first road trip start with a return to what Kevin has been referring to as the scene of the crime: The Super 8 of Cumberland, MD. This is the first motel the group stayed at on the road to Milwaukee, and the place where we began to get to know each other. Of course, no crime, literal or moral, took place then or there. But, we look back to that as the point to which we can trace the first seed of our relationship. We began that trip as strangers, and starting right then, we would return as friends. I guess it's safe to say we made an impression.

Anyway, we visited for posterity's sake, then headed further south thru WV and VA and up into the Appalachains to Skyline Drive. It was crappy, cold, and wet, and we left the Super 8 with our rainsuits on. Somehow, we avoided what showed on the radar as a certain soaking. It did drizzle while we ate lunch at Skytop Lodge, but that was it. Then, the sky turned black as we got closer to our hotel in Front Royal, and we were really doing a quick two-step there at the end to try to beat it to our destination. We checked in, parked the bikes in front of the room, and, no lie, got them unloaded less than 45 seconds before it started to pour. I *love* when that happens.

Supper that night came from the gas station across the street. We scurried over in the rain and ate what we could find. Donna ended up with a well-rounded meal of ice cream, and Kev had some Combos and a quart of Budweiser. We carried the stuff back to the room and pigged out like the wet rats we were. Ahh, ife at it's best!