Tag: vermont

Union City, TN to home Friday, August 13

It seemed kind of funny I would be riding the worst day of the entire trip on Friday the 13th. Haven’t you heard that Friday the 13th is supposed to be good luck for left handed people? I got through the last day without being so frightened I was shaking, but spent most of the day somewhat alarmed due to the heat.

I was again on the road before first light (5:45) and was into Arkansas by 8:00 and through Little Rock by 10:00. That still left me five hours to get home and it was already insufferably hot.

This was the most brutal day I have ever spent on a motorcycle. When I started the day at 5:45 I was able to ride until a needed fuel. For the rest of the day I had to stop about every 90 minutes to re-wet my cooling vest and get more cold water. Stopping that often was delaying me so I would hit Dallas during Friday afternoon traffic, but I didn’t have any choice.

I stopped looking at the thermometer when it read 110. I simply didn’t want to know. I was having to ride with my knees fanned out to minimize the burning from the engine heat. The heat from the pavement and motorcycle was so extreme my feet hurt. I have good touring boots — it was just that hot.

It’s the first time on the motorcycle that I was having to fight getting light headed from heat. Soaking the vest in a bag full of ice water, filling a bandana with ice and tying it around my neck to cool the blood flowing to my head, pouring ice water all over the mesh jacket and pants, filling my water reservoir with ice to cool me on the inside. None of this was enough to combat the excessive heat. Maybe it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if I was doing less mileage each day, but when I’m doing 600-700 mile days I feel I really need to take care of myself in order to safely ride.

Up until the last day I had found it more comfortable to ride with my visor cracked open a little to let fresh air flow through. The last day the blast of heat hurt, so I rode home with the visor closed except when I was drinking water (I have a 55 oz. Camelbak on top of my tank bag).

This may be silly but I feel the last miles are perhaps the most dangerous of the trip. I’m at my most tired for the trip, I’m back in familiar territory and may let my guard down, so I am the most careful and the most vigilant as I approach home. Add the fatigue from the heat and Friday afternoon traffic to the mix and I was really being careful.

I was able to cut across Dallas with only minor slow downs and safely pulled into the garage and put the side stand down. Does anyone else feel that intense satisfaction and gratitude when returning from a very long journey and safely returning home? I feel it each time both me and the motorcycle are back safely in the garage.

As for heat damage — once again the top of my boots blistered both legs and the inside of my right leg is moderately cooked from the heat coming off the engine. I stayed hydrated, so the rest of my body did okay. As far as the motorcycle — I am surprised the tires didn’t melt right off the wheels, but I guess she’s tougher than I am.  I pulled off the tank bag when I got home and it was so hot it hurt to hold it and I didn’t want to bring it into the house that hot so it’s out on the work bench cooling off.

Me? I’m in the house cooling off. I may not leave for a while…

Conneaut, OH to Union City, TN Thursday, August 12

It was only 73 degrees when I walked out to the motorcycle, but the humidity made it feel a lot warmer. Back into the heat so I was on the road shortly before sunrise. I hit Cleveland at 7:30 but took a route that went well outside of rush hour traffic. It was uncomfortably hot by 11:00 AM but I got through Columbus, Cincinatti, and Louisville and picked up the Western Kentucky Parkway to cut across Kentucky.

The parkway is a great road with little traffic but the thermometer on the motorcycle was reading 104 degrees. Around 2:00 some clouds appeared and I was initially grateful to have them. Around 3:00 I looked up ahead at suddenly very dark, threatening skies. Within a mile I was in heavy, gusting rain that was throwing the motorcycle all around the road and made it nearly impossible to see. I couldn’t believe the sheets of rain being pounded across the road in front of me.

The visibility was so bad I didn’t feel pulling over to the side of the road was an option and there were no overpasses to hide under. I bailed out on the first available exit and was having trouble seeing the road since I still had sunglasses on and it had gotten very dark. Once again I realized I was so scared that I was shaking from head to toe. That’s two days in a row… I kept telling the weather “Be nice! Just let me get to a gas station.”

It wasn’t pretty but I pulled into the first gas station I saw and got under cover. People at the station were telling me they had gotten off the road because they didn’t think they could see while driving their cars and they couldn’t believe how bad the storm was. No kidding?

I took my time fueling up.  It looked worse. I parked the bike and decided to wait it out in the Subway attached to the gas station.

It took about an hour to let up and I returned to the parkway in light rain watching storms to both the north and south. I connected with Purchase Parkway that headed south into another storm. Since I didn’t enjoy the first storm all that much I actually got the motorcycle parked and into a convenience store before the second storm hit. As the rain started to slow the people at the store warned me the deer would be out in numbers since the temperature had cooled due to the rain. I only had about 40 miles to get to my planned stop in Union City, TN so got back on the road, and fueled up before stopping for the day by 8:00 PM.

I had a busy evening trying to get everything spread out to dry… The first storm had blown up so quick I hadn’t gotten my rain liner on and had gotten soaked to the skin. For the record — hard rain hurts through a mesh jacket.

Magog, Quebec to Conneaut, OH Wednesday, August 11

Between motorcycle repairs and pricey lodging I felt it was time to get home and stop spending money. I was dreading the ride back into the heat and just wanted to get it over with so I left Quebec with the goal of reaching home in three days. I left Magog at 5:40 AM (first light) in heavy fog. I love fog because of it’s beauty, but this fog was so dense I could barely see the road and I almost didn’t see the entrance ramp to Autoroute 10 to head toward Montreal.

I had decided to go west through Quebec to cut across the southeast corner of Ontario and cross the border into New York. My 5:40 departure took me through pockets of heavy fog and had me crossing the Jacques Cartier bridge into Montreal at 7:30 right in the middle of morning rush hour.

The route I had chosen took me down Ontario 401 to cross the Thousand Islands bridge to the US. My excitement for seeing the St. Lawrence again was quickly wiped out when I came around a curve on the road that started out across the river to see an enormous bridge that had a steel grid deck. I had crossed a couple small bridges the previous summer with this slippery surface and hated it — I never would have knowingly chosen this huge bridge that arched up 800 feet above the water and was completely steel grid, but there was no turning around at a border crossing.

I ascended the bridge and was so scared I realized I was shaking from head to toe – so counterproductive to good control of the motorcycle, but at that point I was having to remind myself to breathe. I topped the rise of the bridge to see construction ahead on the steel grid and a stop light that was red. I did not want to stop on that surface — I just wanted off it. I slowed down and to my great relief that light turned green just as I approached and I didn’t have to stop the motorcycle until I had my feet on wonderful, predictable pavement.

Getting that scared wears me out (which I didn’t need) and it took me a while to stop shaking. The most disappointing part was  missing what was probably a spectacular view of the St. Lawrence because my eyes were glued to the steel grating. I still got to see the parts of the river since NY 12 is a great route that follows it in an area where there are islands everywhere.

NY 12 took me to I-81 which connected to the New York Thruway I-90 and I started repeating the route I had taken north in reverse. It was only 5:00 when I got to my planned stop in Conneaut, OH for the night, but it had been such a good place with a great restaurant I decided to call it a day and get on the road early the next morning since I knew I had experienced my last day of pleasant temperatures while riding. It had been 78 degrees when I crossed the border from Canada, but it was 90 degrees in Conneaut. It was going to be hot and humid all day the next day.