That was a day.
Jul. 20th, 2010 11:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumIt was a really good day for riding. The weather wasn't bad, and my new shirt (I bought a long-sleeved Underarmor, meant for, "extreme heat") did just what it was supposed to, I tried the cooling vest with it, and it didn't seem to work as well.
The weather, actually was damned near perfect, given the locale and the season, variable clouds, temps in the middle-80s to low-90s(F). The road was pretty, the scenery pretty good. It's amazing to contemplate the distances Jacksons, "Foot Cavalry" marched up and down these valleys (they called themselves that because the would cover as many at 35 miles a day, for several days on end... is is as far as good cavalry, with remounts, is expected to go. It was pretty much impossible to steal a march on Jackson).
But I've been out of the saddle for two-weeks. Apart from a piddly bit of riding in the middle of last week (about 30 miles, just for the hell of it... given the amount of riding I've done since I started the trip [an avergage of 425 miles... a bit less if you add the two days I lost because of the mechanical fault] 30 miles is as nothing), I've done nothing.
I felt the break. My knees, my hips, and my hands were all complaining a bit. Given that this was a long day (I rode about 540 miles today for about 8 1/2 hours of saddle time), it was a bit hard.
The worst part of it, was the traffic. I-81 was like being in mid-day city traffic. Lots of clumps of people driving badly¹. It meant I spent all day on the throttle. There was very little time I could just lock it up and coast.
I did have one of those moments of bike-rider camaraderie. I was getting gas, last stop before the turn onto I-66, and toward DC. A guy comes up, do-rag and harley shirt, "Hey, do you know where Highway 50 is?" There were a couple of cars there, with Virginia plates, he came to the guy on the loaded out touring bike; because he was on a bike. I pulled out the Garmin, zoomed out the map, sent him on his way.
Then I got into DC, and Garmin failed me. First, it took me off the highway about six miles too soon (I think, it's possible Venice was the best feeder, but I think they just said... straight line, no turns), but Canal Bridge... must be one of the most idiotic ideas for a way to manage rush-hour traffic on earth. At Canal and (now I forget, one must make a left. Why? Because the oncoming street is two lanes, and one way. The side street, onto which one makes the left, is a three-lane street, two of oncoming traffic (making a right), and the one you have to enter. There is a light, about half a mile up.
It's backed up, so there is a chunk of time you watch the green light burn photons.
Mind you, it was a good 3/4s of a mile of stop and start traffic before I saw this, in the meanwhile I just watched two lanes of cars stream past, in the opposite direction.
Once I got that behind me, I was shunted about in a series of bizarre button hooks, with a strange mix of over-detailed, and insufficient, direction (there is a part of Military Road NW, which is congruent with Missouri St. There is no signage, that I could see, but I was trying to make sure I, "Stayed right, on Missouri" before, "Turning Right [again] onto Military Road NW).
By the time I was done spiraling in, I was going..., "Where the hell am I!?!" Then I saw a landmark. I used to live in these parts, sort of. I spent two months in Walter Reed. There is a HUGE pair of antennae just down Georgia from the hospital. Anyone who has ever taken a right, when leaving the gate has seen them.
And I got more button hooks. Crap. I was expecting (when I saw the towers) to go to Georgia, make a right, get handed a left, and then some terminal directions to the house.
No. Before Georgia I was told to "Turn Right on Cedar", and go about a mile, to "Turn Right on something else".
So I did,and Cedar made a bend, crossed Georgia, and became Piney Woods. This was not mentioned in the directions. More button hooks, and then a direction which couldn't be done.
So I did some box searching of my own, and found it.
The last 25 miles.. took almost an hour and a half. I was confused, frustrated angry and sore. Between casting about to find my correct path, and thinking I was lost, I almost tipped the bike twice. I kept it up, but the price was to have my hips (one per stop) cramp up on me.
Since I could neither stop the bike to walk them out, nor stretch them in the right ways while on the bike, it was some unpleasant moments. Strong words were uttered.
And... "Left on Georgia,", "Right on X", Left on X", "Park," would have been perfect.
There was, however, one of those moments one can't make up, right at the last. As I was doing part of my final maneuvering there were a few people at a street corner, and one young woman called out on what a nice looking bike I had.
But I got here; was greeted warmly, and given limeade. Then I called Mandalay. They didn't know his last name, but they knew for whom I was asking... "Mr. Jon" is well known. I can see why. The chicken in sour mustard (medium spicy) was divine. The egg roll was ok, but that may have been the strange fugue state my appetite is in at the end of a long day spent in traffic too. There was nothing wrong with it, but there was nothing in it which grabbed me. Assuming the dish I had was typical, I wish I had more time to sample the menu (or a really big crowd, and ate, "family style."
Dessert was Cream of Wheat, raised to it's apotheosis. Sweetened, cream and egg added; not enough to make it a custard, just enough to bind it; dried fruit (I think raisins, but I'm not sure) entombed in it, and then baked to a delicate brown; but not crusty, just enough to give a slightly drier texture to the exterior.
It was sweet, but not rich... it was a savory dessert.
Which was the nature of the evening.wcg, and twistedchick joined us. I'd not met them in person before. The lot of them had been waiting, with patience; in good company, so far as I could tell. We talked pottery, there were pretties, and traffic, and roads, and family, and general natter. It was worth the rest of the day.
¹When driving a a two-lane, divided highway, the left lane is for passing ²
²Texas gets this:³ Every other state in this trip has signs, "Slower traffic keep right", not Texas: "The Left lane is for passing only" I don't care if you are gaining on the guy in front of you. If he's more than a quarter mile ahead, you aren't passing. If he's a quarter mile ahead of you, he'd better look as if he's standing still, otherwise, wait for it. After all, he might decide he needs to, "pass" someone in front of him, and now you'll have to dive under him, to pass on the right, or slow down. If you are behind in the same lane, they tend to not feel the need to drive in the left (quite so much... if they were a left lane driver, they'd probably be there already), and you can pass.
And passing... that means passing, not creeping. You signal, you "Check six" to make sure it's clear, and you change lanes, while accelerating. You don't poke along, letting the passenger take a note of every apportionment sticker the truck has collected from the DOT. You don't take 11 miles to pass a semi... you sure as hell don't take 21 miles to pass a mini-van, and then the semi, in your dually; with a flatbed trailer; making sure to clog up traffic for 21 miles, at 65 miles an hour, since the combination of your vehicle length, and the gap between those two cars meant NO ONE, not even me, had I (and not the poor bastard in the sport coupe who was) been right behind you has a snowflakes chance in hell of passing you on the right (yes, he did, and if you are in the Shenandoah Valley and need your tractor hauled you can count on Jacks Tractor Hauling to get it there without harm, because that's the style of driving he did when the rig was empty).
Ok, I got that out of my system. Really, it's not that hard. It also, so I'm told, makes cops look on you a little more favorably when you are doing a little more than they think is safe speeding; it shows you know how to drive, not just put the pedal to the metal.
For amusing, the speed limits in Virginia are either 60 mph, or 65. Then there was this one: "Commercial or Co-ordinated Vehicles must stay in the right lane when being operated below 65 MPH" Ponder that. If a commercial vehicle, or someone hauling a trailer (like &^%T& T*^*&#$ Jack, Ok, so it wasn't completely out of my system.... 18 miles, there are times when having an odometer, and a clock combine poorly) is in the right lane, at all, they are eligible for a ticket. On the up side, I saw at least half a dozen state troopers at the side of the road, hiding in the bushes.... they ignored all of us. There were three sheriffs (in Smith County), who had people at the side of the road, and two State Troopers, but me doing 75-80, they didn't care.
³ Not that the drivers really think this is a good idea, mind you. As soon as they leave Texas they seem to decide the left lane is also for driving.
The weather, actually was damned near perfect, given the locale and the season, variable clouds, temps in the middle-80s to low-90s(F). The road was pretty, the scenery pretty good. It's amazing to contemplate the distances Jacksons, "Foot Cavalry" marched up and down these valleys (they called themselves that because the would cover as many at 35 miles a day, for several days on end... is is as far as good cavalry, with remounts, is expected to go. It was pretty much impossible to steal a march on Jackson).
But I've been out of the saddle for two-weeks. Apart from a piddly bit of riding in the middle of last week (about 30 miles, just for the hell of it... given the amount of riding I've done since I started the trip [an avergage of 425 miles... a bit less if you add the two days I lost because of the mechanical fault] 30 miles is as nothing), I've done nothing.
I felt the break. My knees, my hips, and my hands were all complaining a bit. Given that this was a long day (I rode about 540 miles today for about 8 1/2 hours of saddle time), it was a bit hard.
The worst part of it, was the traffic. I-81 was like being in mid-day city traffic. Lots of clumps of people driving badly¹. It meant I spent all day on the throttle. There was very little time I could just lock it up and coast.
I did have one of those moments of bike-rider camaraderie. I was getting gas, last stop before the turn onto I-66, and toward DC. A guy comes up, do-rag and harley shirt, "Hey, do you know where Highway 50 is?" There were a couple of cars there, with Virginia plates, he came to the guy on the loaded out touring bike; because he was on a bike. I pulled out the Garmin, zoomed out the map, sent him on his way.
Then I got into DC, and Garmin failed me. First, it took me off the highway about six miles too soon (I think, it's possible Venice was the best feeder, but I think they just said... straight line, no turns), but Canal Bridge... must be one of the most idiotic ideas for a way to manage rush-hour traffic on earth. At Canal and (now I forget, one must make a left. Why? Because the oncoming street is two lanes, and one way. The side street, onto which one makes the left, is a three-lane street, two of oncoming traffic (making a right), and the one you have to enter. There is a light, about half a mile up.
It's backed up, so there is a chunk of time you watch the green light burn photons.
Mind you, it was a good 3/4s of a mile of stop and start traffic before I saw this, in the meanwhile I just watched two lanes of cars stream past, in the opposite direction.
Once I got that behind me, I was shunted about in a series of bizarre button hooks, with a strange mix of over-detailed, and insufficient, direction (there is a part of Military Road NW, which is congruent with Missouri St. There is no signage, that I could see, but I was trying to make sure I, "Stayed right, on Missouri" before, "Turning Right [again] onto Military Road NW).
By the time I was done spiraling in, I was going..., "Where the hell am I!?!" Then I saw a landmark. I used to live in these parts, sort of. I spent two months in Walter Reed. There is a HUGE pair of antennae just down Georgia from the hospital. Anyone who has ever taken a right, when leaving the gate has seen them.
And I got more button hooks. Crap. I was expecting (when I saw the towers) to go to Georgia, make a right, get handed a left, and then some terminal directions to the house.
No. Before Georgia I was told to "Turn Right on Cedar", and go about a mile, to "Turn Right on something else".
So I did,and Cedar made a bend, crossed Georgia, and became Piney Woods. This was not mentioned in the directions. More button hooks, and then a direction which couldn't be done.
So I did some box searching of my own, and found it.
The last 25 miles.. took almost an hour and a half. I was confused, frustrated angry and sore. Between casting about to find my correct path, and thinking I was lost, I almost tipped the bike twice. I kept it up, but the price was to have my hips (one per stop) cramp up on me.
Since I could neither stop the bike to walk them out, nor stretch them in the right ways while on the bike, it was some unpleasant moments. Strong words were uttered.
And... "Left on Georgia,", "Right on X", Left on X", "Park," would have been perfect.
There was, however, one of those moments one can't make up, right at the last. As I was doing part of my final maneuvering there were a few people at a street corner, and one young woman called out on what a nice looking bike I had.
But I got here; was greeted warmly, and given limeade. Then I called Mandalay. They didn't know his last name, but they knew for whom I was asking... "Mr. Jon" is well known. I can see why. The chicken in sour mustard (medium spicy) was divine. The egg roll was ok, but that may have been the strange fugue state my appetite is in at the end of a long day spent in traffic too. There was nothing wrong with it, but there was nothing in it which grabbed me. Assuming the dish I had was typical, I wish I had more time to sample the menu (or a really big crowd, and ate, "family style."
Dessert was Cream of Wheat, raised to it's apotheosis. Sweetened, cream and egg added; not enough to make it a custard, just enough to bind it; dried fruit (I think raisins, but I'm not sure) entombed in it, and then baked to a delicate brown; but not crusty, just enough to give a slightly drier texture to the exterior.
It was sweet, but not rich... it was a savory dessert.
Which was the nature of the evening.
wcg, and twistedchick joined us. I'd not met them in person before. The lot of them had been waiting, with patience; in good company, so far as I could tell. We talked pottery, there were pretties, and traffic, and roads, and family, and general natter. It was worth the rest of the day.¹When driving a a two-lane, divided highway, the left lane is for passing ²
²Texas gets this:³ Every other state in this trip has signs, "Slower traffic keep right", not Texas: "The Left lane is for passing only" I don't care if you are gaining on the guy in front of you. If he's more than a quarter mile ahead, you aren't passing. If he's a quarter mile ahead of you, he'd better look as if he's standing still, otherwise, wait for it. After all, he might decide he needs to, "pass" someone in front of him, and now you'll have to dive under him, to pass on the right, or slow down. If you are behind in the same lane, they tend to not feel the need to drive in the left (quite so much... if they were a left lane driver, they'd probably be there already), and you can pass.
And passing... that means passing, not creeping. You signal, you "Check six" to make sure it's clear, and you change lanes, while accelerating. You don't poke along, letting the passenger take a note of every apportionment sticker the truck has collected from the DOT. You don't take 11 miles to pass a semi... you sure as hell don't take 21 miles to pass a mini-van, and then the semi, in your dually; with a flatbed trailer; making sure to clog up traffic for 21 miles, at 65 miles an hour, since the combination of your vehicle length, and the gap between those two cars meant NO ONE, not even me, had I (and not the poor bastard in the sport coupe who was) been right behind you has a snowflakes chance in hell of passing you on the right (yes, he did, and if you are in the Shenandoah Valley and need your tractor hauled you can count on Jacks Tractor Hauling to get it there without harm, because that's the style of driving he did when the rig was empty).
Ok, I got that out of my system. Really, it's not that hard. It also, so I'm told, makes cops look on you a little more favorably when you are doing a little more than they think is safe speeding; it shows you know how to drive, not just put the pedal to the metal.
For amusing, the speed limits in Virginia are either 60 mph, or 65. Then there was this one: "Commercial or Co-ordinated Vehicles must stay in the right lane when being operated below 65 MPH" Ponder that. If a commercial vehicle, or someone hauling a trailer (like &^%T& T*^*&#$ Jack, Ok, so it wasn't completely out of my system.... 18 miles, there are times when having an odometer, and a clock combine poorly) is in the right lane, at all, they are eligible for a ticket. On the up side, I saw at least half a dozen state troopers at the side of the road, hiding in the bushes.... they ignored all of us. There were three sheriffs (in Smith County), who had people at the side of the road, and two State Troopers, but me doing 75-80, they didn't care.
³ Not that the drivers really think this is a good idea, mind you. As soon as they leave Texas they seem to decide the left lane is also for driving.
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have you read this?
Date: 2010-07-21 10:30 am (UTC)whether or not you like his band, this is a really good book about a long trip by motorcycle.
i hope you can find time to read it, and that you enjoy it if you do read it.
Re: have you read this?
Date: 2010-07-21 11:31 am (UTC)I knew he'd had a long trip dealing with the crash. I do like the band, but that's a whole 'nother, and complicated, issue.
Re: have you read this?
Date: 2010-07-21 12:16 pm (UTC)travel safely and well.
Re: have you read this?
Date: 2010-07-21 12:23 pm (UTC)After this trip, and the time spent in the contemplation one has in the helmet, a lot of that was toned down, a lot.