Storms and Cannonballs

   Rain, again! During our 7 days on the road we have had to put up with rain on 4 of those days. We check the weather and on this final big day on the road we have to deal with a serious weather front streaking across the Ohio Valley. Doc and I grab a quick breakfast, don our rain suits, and head into the teeth of the storm. We decide that heading due West and punching thru the front would get us to dry roads quicker. Good plan, but it takes 175 miles of rain to finally see the sun again! At one point with the wind gusting at 50 mph, I thought it could be possible to drown on a motorcycle! Getting through the worst of it Doc and I pull into a McDonald's looking like a couple of drowned rats. We share a hot coffee and use the bathroom dryers to warm up. It is still raining but we press on to Sandusky, Ohio in order to see the riders from the 2012 Cannonball Run arrive. The Cannonball is a coast to coast race for pre-1930 motorcycles that began in Newburgh, New York and ends in San Francisco, California. Sandusky is the stop at the end of stage two and we intend to be there come hell OR high water! We break out of the rain somewhere on I-77 and just South of Canton we hook Northwest on US-250 through Amish farm country. We again are treated to a great road and beautiful countryside all the way to Sandusky.
  We arrive at our hotel and can see the host hotel for the Cannonball right across the parking lot. After checking in, stowing our gear, and taking a hot shower, we mosey over to the Comfort Inn and wait for some of the riders to start pulling in. Can't begin to describe how cool it was for us to see motorcycles over 80 years old and their riders pull in after a 377 mile ride through the same storm we just punched through. These old bikes are closer to bicycles with old tractor motors mounted to them than the modern machines we now ride. Everybody crowds around the bikes as they come in and the riders are great at answering questions and letting folks take pictures. The riders are very proud of the history they are preserving and all determined to make it to San Francisco. We meet Buzz Kanter who is the editor of American Iron magazine. He is riding a rare 1929 Harley Davidson J-D and shares with us his day on the bike. Later that evening I am holding a flashlight for one of the "28 Brothers" as he changes the carb on his 1928 H-D. It was cool to participate in our small way and we are thinking of riding with some of them in the morning as they head to Muskegon, Michigan and a rendezvous with a ferry to Milwaukee.
  Our final morning dawns clear, but cold. The Cannonball riders are off early to give themselves plenty of time because the ferry has a strict schedule to keep. During breakfast I research where the closest place is to buy some Yuengling because I can not buy it in Michigan yet. There is a Kroger grocery about 8 miles down the road and just off the highway. And holding true to form I turn the wrong way at the exit ramp and after about a half mile we stop and ask a local for directions. Having secured the much treasured brew we head off for our final 127 mile leg of our most amazing journey. Along the way we start to see a couple of the old bikes along the side of the road with the rider and their support crews doing what they can to bring the beasts back to life. We on the other hand cruise on into Michigan one week and 1850 miles under our belts. It was a great trip. Doc Gardner was an excellent companion. I would (will) travel by motorcycles with him anywhere. I was glad to be home, but at the same time sad that my journey was over. So until next time! . . . . .

1913 Excelsior

Buzz Kanter and his 1929 Harley

http://www.motorcyclecannonball.com/

Get-away Day and ride to Nowhere?

Ron, Lisa, and I say our goodbyes.

The beautiful Shenandoah Valley

Doc skylarking

Historic marker

  Friday morning is our designated departure day. There is still more of the convention to go, but Doc and I have an appointment in Sandusky, Ohio to see some vintage motorcycles engaged in a cross-country race. Doc and I hook up with my shipmate Ron and his wife Lisa for breakfast and final goodbyes. During my time on the USS Andrew Jackson a bunch of us rode motorcycles and it was good to get together with one of my shipmates and talk about old times. Ron invites Sandy and I to their home if we are ever in the Houston area. Doc and I mount our iron horses and blast on out of Norfolk on I-64. We have around 380 miles to go and need to put some road behind us as we rocket to Charlottesville, Va. and US-250. We stop for a quick lunch and Doc is telling me stories of when he attended UVA in Charlottesville. Lunch done, we continue our trip up US-250 and into the Virginia countryside. We traverse both the George Washington and Monongahela National Forests. It is some of the prettiest country you will ever see. We climb, and twist, and turn our way to the top of Mount Sydney where I yank us off to a scenic lookout. We were treated to an absolutely stunning view of the Shenandoah Valley. We meet a director of a local group home for developmentally disabled adults. Or as he refreshingly put it, "I work with mental patients." He tells us about a few of the small towns we would pass through and wishes us a safe journey. He was a Southern gentleman and sounded amazingly like historian Shelby Foote. Doc and I wind our way down into the valley and through several quaint towns. We pass through Virginia and into West Virginia where after some miles decide to take a break and get some cold water. A small store and even smaller gas station bracket the road. Having no precise idea of where we are, I whip out the iPhone and hit the map app. Imagine my surprise when I cannot connect to any network! Hey Verizon! Can you hear me now? Nope! We are officially in B.F.E. ! We find from the locals that we have quite a ways to go and there is a large storm front brewing in the mid-west. More twisties and beautiful countryside lie ahead, but  darkness looms and we are glad to pull into Bridgeport and our hotel for another well deserved rest. Next installment . . . . Storms and Cannonballs!

Meeting a great American

   Returning from the 1st National SSMC ride, Doc and I stow the bikes in the parking garage up on the 4th floor and start heading for the hotel. Walking towards the catwalk over to the hotel I notice a very seasoned WWII Subvet with two Chiefs from the Coast Gaurd. The look on the vet's face was unmistakeable to me. I could tell he was confused, upset, and angry with himself all at the same time. If you have ever been around an aging family member you know what I am describing. I suggest to Doc that we check this out and sure enough the gentleman could not find his car. It was  apparent that the "Coasties" were not going to see this one through, so Doc and I said, "We got this!" The subvet we met was Edward W. Stone, and he was a radioman aboard the USS Bumper (SS-333) during WWII. He had made 3 war patrols, but was very modest about his service. Doc got him to give us his keys and hitting the panic button we got no answer from his car. After some additional questions we had determined that his car was in the other parking structure on the opposite side of the hotel. Walking Mr. Stone over there Doc takes off with the keys to the 1st floor and finds Ed's car. I escort Mr. Stone down the ramp and as we approach his car I notice a special New York license plate. It simply stated "Pearl Harbor Survivor". Doc and I were in the presence of a great American though you would never know it. Ed was so thankful that we helped him find his car, and we were so thankful that God had put us in that place at that time to help this humble man. We take photos (Doc has already posted one) and Ed gives us his business card. Ed must be somewhat of a prankster as the back of his card states;      
                                                      My Card, Sir.
                                 I am somewhat of a Bullshitter myself
                    But occasionally I prefer  listening to a Superb Professional.
                           
                                                  Please carry on.

We say our goodbyes and head off to the hotel praying that Ed's Garmin gets him to his destination safely. For he is 89 years young and dearly loves spending time with his fellow submariners.

Pride Runs Deep!

  Back in the hotel the party is still in full swing as the 3rd floor smoking deck is loaded with submariners, beer, booze, and cigars! I hang out for awhile and Doc and I meet a Rear Admiral with whom Doc strikes up a fast friendship. I have a taste of 15 year old Glenfiddich scotch, and because tomorrow is departure day, I take my leave and head up to the room to pack. After a bit Doc comes up to the room to fetch his special bottle of his scotch to take down for the "tasting". He asks if I want to join the fun as the Admiral is apparently a "great guy". I defer, knowing that a hangover and a 350 mile motorcycle ride does not mix in my playbook. Doc, on the other hand, is made up of different stuff! After several hours he knocks on the room door, (forgot his key), stands at nearly a 45 degree angle leaning forward (I'll never know how he didn't fall flat on his face!), and proceeds to tell me what a "great f*&$@&* guy the Admiral was!" This line was repeated several times until Doc turned around, sat of the end of the bed, laid back with his feet still touching the floor, and fell dead asleep! It was like somebody had hit a switch. Not a peep. I thought about taking his shoes off and getting him in the bed and covered up but the thought came to me to just "let sleeping dogs lie". I was thinking that Doc was going to pay for this come tomorrow, but I was wrong as apparently scotch runs through his veins anyways! Tomorrow ........ Departure Day!

Ride into the Wind

Pride runs deep on the bike!

Gathering of clan SSMC

So many bikes, such a little ferry!

Almost called it quits right here!

  Day 3 of the convention and the Silent Service MC is going on it's 1st national group ride. The local Old Dominion Chapter put together a poker run through what is known as Virginia's historic triangle. We are routed to go through Jamestown, Yorktown, and Williamsburg as we pick up cards for a poker hand. The weather was good as we gather at the local minor league ballpark. We take check out each others bikes, take pictures, and mount up for our ride. How cool was it to see 35 bikes all with submariners on them? Way cool! We roar out of Norfolk and into the Virginia countryside. It's tough keeping all those bikes together and in one group, but we manage quite well early on. Our 1st stop is a small 4 corners country store and then off for a ride on the Scotland-Jamestown ferry. Quite ironic that many of us who rode boomers spent many a day in Scotland where our subs were moored in Holy Loch. Other car passenges were very interested in who we were and where we were headed. Everybody was having a great time and it just seemed natural for so many sailors to be on the water once again. Pulling into the Jamestown landing I have to fight back the urge to abandon the ride and spent the rest of my day at the Jamestown Settlement. I am a history nut and it was killing me to be so close to such a historic site! After a quick break we are off to Williamsburg Harley-Davidson. Here the story gets interesting for Doc and I. we are told to enjoy shopping at the dealership and that we would leave at 13:00 hrs (1 pm for you civilians) sharp! Well Doc and I are buying some motor oil for the trip back home and look up to see the group wheeling out of the parking lot! I look at my watch and see we have a good 10 minutes before our "scheduled" departure time! we comlete our purchase and hoof it out to the bikes to see a large thunder cloud bearing down on our location. Imagine that, sailors afraid of the rain? We fire up the bikes and miss the making the traffic light in order to join the group. We have no idea where we are or what direction to take other than left. A couple of Dominion riders who were breaking off from the group tell us to just head straight to I-64 and we should catch up with the group. At one point while waiting at a light we could see the group going through a construction zone on the next hill up from us. We blast through the zone and the group is nowhere to been seen. Doc and I jump on the highway and high-tail it towards Norfolk hoping to catch up with the group. After crossing the Hampton Roads Bridge/Tunnel I stop on the shoulder to get our bearings and search for our next stop. While pulling out the iPhone Doc and I hear the rumble of bikes behind us on the bridge. What? It's our group  heading to the Fleet Reserve Post! How in the world did we get ahead of them?? Guess we were going so fast we passed thru some kind of vortex! A nice luncheon is waiting for us at the post and more importantly, more beer! Doc and I are one and done guys, so we head back to the hotel with a couple of Dominion Chapter guys. And guess what? Yup, it again starts to rain! A fitting end to another great day on the road!

USSVI Convention

Doc, Chiefs Stone and Clear, and the excellent waitstaff at Hooters!

Getting directions from one of the locals!

Tall ship at the pier

  The United States Submarine Veterans Inc. convention is my 1st convention of any kind. The only previous exposure I had to conventions was watching the Loyal Order of Water Buffalo's antics on the Flintstones! As the saying goes, life does have a way of imitating art. After stowing our gear, Doc and I wander down to the 3rd floor where the convention is in full swing. I seems to me that Doc knows nearly half the attendees! In particular I am introduced to Chiefs Ray Stone and John Clear. I think their pictures are located in the dictionary next to the word "gregarious" or perhaps "extrovert".

View from our room at the Marriott

Getting warmed up at Hooters with Ralph Luther

Chief Clear hands me a card that invites me to Hooters at 20:000 hrs. (8 pm  for you civilians) and states the first beer of the evening is on him! I'm liking this convention thing! I wander around the vendor area sizing up what treasures I want to purchase and drag back home. Time for a quick nap before heading off to Hooters and dinner with Doc and fellow biker Ralph Luther. The convention site was well scouted out as the Oceanside Marriott is a short walk thru a garage and over a catwalk to the waterside complex that contains an Outback, Joe's Crab Shack, and Hooters! No driving, no getting wet, no hassles! After dinner with Ralph, Chiefs Clear and Stone arrive and the party moves out to the patio at the waters edge. Our Hooter's girl is a good sport and soon the beer, wings, cigars, and sea-stories start flying around the table. It had been thirty years since I heard sailors going at it with their ribald jokes, colorful language, and outlandish stretches of the imagination! I was having a ball and consuming my share of draft Yuengling. The tales went on until closing time (00:30) and although our core group of 6 grew to 10 for about an hour, we had managed to consume 22 pitchers of beer! Really? 
  Wednesday dawns bright and clear. I am up early and hungry as all get out. I walk across the street around 7 am for breakfast at a small family owned diner. After chowing down on some biscuits and gravy, I wander over to the waterfront to check out the local sculptures and a tall ship. My shipmate Ron Harter calls me and I join him and Lisa back at the diner for more coffee. We catch up on other shipmates, where our careers have taken us , and just general stuff. Ron had an issue with his bike that needed addressing and we parted ways. I spent the rest of the day wandering around the convention talking to other sailors and waiting for the 3 pm meeting that was to be the first national meeting of the Silent Service Motorcycle Club.  I've been to perhaps thousands of meetings in my time and they all flow about the same. Lots of enthusiasm, some good ideas, some bad, some impatience, and some planning for the future. Our founder, Bob Opple, tells us that we are the second largest base within the USSVI after only 2 1/2 years in existence! Quite the accomplishment for a bunch of "Bubblehead Bikers"! There is another repeat performance at Hooters scheduled for this night, but Doc and I choose a more relaxing dinner at Outbacks with another friend of Doc's. After all, we have a poker run to do tomorrow with the SSMC and want to be our sharpest for the group ride!

SSMC Hook-Up

l to r - Bill Vance and my riding partner Doc Gardner

South meets North!

Day 3 breaks sunny, warm, and full of anticipation on our part. We are to hook-up with fellow SSMC riders today for our grand entrance into Norfolk. Old Dominion Chapter member Bill Vance meets us at our hotel in the morning and after breakfast leads us to the rally point in Richmond, Va. Bill is from Culpeper, Va. and knows the back roads very well. Much of Virginia is a very pastoral state with agriculture, horse farms, and large estates doting the countryside. We have a relaxing and DRY ride into Richmond. There we are to meet the group of riders that originated out of the South and enjoy lunch together at 5Guy's Burger & Fries! I also get the opportunity to see a shipmate I had not seen since 1979 and catch up on what the ride and our lives had brought us. Ron Harter and I served aboard the USS Andrew Jackson in the mid-seventies. Sharing an experience like that is a special bond that all submariners understand. Though 30 years separate our last time together, we pick right up where we left off and share our life experiences. Ron's wife Lisa is also a rider and after a delicious gut-bomb with cajun fries we are off as a group to Norfolk! Riding as a MC for the first time with guys and gals from Nevada, Arizona, Texas, Tennessee,  and Virginia was quite a thrill! Twelve bikes, two-by-two, made quite an impressive entrance to the USSVI convention at the Oceanside Marriott in Norfolk. Getting the bikes settled, checking in, and moving our gear into the room takes up a good part of the afternoon. Next post I'll write about my convention memories. What a time I was about to have!

Ride to Norfolk - Hillsboro, OH to Winchester, VA

  Day one is in the books and day two (Labor Day) brings rain! Again! No rest for the weary or bikers on a tight schedule. Winchester, Va. is 377 miles away and rain or not we need to be there by nightfall. So on go the rain suits and away we go! The George Washington Hwy (US-50) is our chosen path and is a multi-lane highway to Chillicothe, Ohio where we stop at an IHOP for breakfast. Hot coffee and flapjacks are most welcome as we check our smart-phones for the latest radar images. How geeky we must have looked sipping hot joe and working our hand held twidget machines! No immediate break in the weather, but we can tell that the tropical depression is spinning East and losing intensity. Chillicothe was home that weekend to the Easy Rider National Rodeo and I thought the IHOP would have been packed with soggy bikers looking for a dry, hot meal.  Not another biker in the place. Maybe the rain chased them all home early? Back into the rain gear and off to Virginia!
Traversing the rolling countryside the rain finally lets up and we enjoy the dry ride until a bit after noon and hunger soon calls out our names. I spy a small 1950's  style cafe, in Clarksburg W.V., that looks interesting and we pull in. Inside T&L Hot Dogs is a slice of pure 50's Americana and had excellent food to boot! We do our dweeby best to check-in on Facebook and take some pictures. After a refueling we hit the road once again. 
  The next leg of the ride was one of the best and most challenging of the trip. Clarksburg, W.V to Gore, Va. is 137 miles of 9% grades, 15 mph hairpin turns, and non-stop scenic beauty! You had to pay particular attention to each and every turn as an improper set-up would get you in trouble in a hurry! Outside, inside, outside, inside . . . for three hours! By the time we got to the resort town of Clear Springs, W.V. I had had enough! But that was only about the half-way point and we had well over an hour of riding left! Wrestling a 850lb Harley for 3 hours is a huge workout! Boy was I glad to hit Maryland and then Virginia with its straighter roads and beautiful pastures. Pulling into Winchester I again had to make a command decision on which way to go in order to end up at our hotel. This time it was a left, right, or straight ahead decision. I went straight, straight into a mall parking lot! Digging out the iPhone we got our bearings and proceeded to the hotel. Totally spent, and totally thrilled with the ride, we enjoyed yet another Yuengling with a well deserved steak dinner!

Wet start to day two!

50's dinning at its finest!

Home for the night!

Tomorrow we hook up with fellow SSMC riders for the final push into Norfolk!