Floribama Riders

I'm still bushed after putting on more than 2,000 miles since Wednesday. Here we go!

Tuesday
Abandoned my original plan to leave Tuesday night, realizing, "Relax, you're on vacation."

Wednesday
Peformed maintenance on the VFR at a leisurely pace, rolled out of Atlanta around noon. Experienced that amazing feeling of departing for a long trip without any responsibilities other than to ride. Felt deja vu in Mississippi as I closed in on Tupelo and Memphis. Ah, Memphis.

Realized somewhere in Arkansas that I had not experienced a new landscape from the seat of a bike in quite a while. I had traveled recently to North Georgia, North Carolina and even northern Florida, but all those places feel kind of like my backyard. Arkansas was different. Even the cows looked different.

Stumbled into the cabin around midnight after getting lost and received a warm welcome. Yay, friendly faces!

Thursday
Struck out on my own for Fayetteville to visit my archaeologist friend, Melissa. She's a great woman who always has a little project for me when I arrive by bike. Last time, I got to dig up bodies at a Kentucky cemetery as part of an arhaological dig. This time we transported bees to her the hive in her backyard.

Melissa is cool because she makes the appropriate "wheee!" sound when I goose the throttle taking off from a stoplight. Riding motorcycles so often, I sometimes forget to say "wheee!" myself--it's much better with the sound.

Friday
Met up with the gang somewhere out on Arkansas Route 7. It was an incredible ride with Big Daddy leading and Beaker close behind. I had fun trying to keep up. It's amazing how quickly B.D. can move that dual-sport bike on the street.

Throughout the day, I found myself choosing different lines to avoid mid-corner pavement discolorations. It was an incredible feeling to have that much control. Inside or outside line? How much lean angle? Most of my street riding in the past involved trucking through the corner on a pre-determined line, avoiding major obstacles when necessary. Just keeping up with a fast group used to require all of my focus.

Unfortunately, a crash on a previous FBR ride taught me an important lesson. Now, all I'm looking for when I ride rapidly is:

• The corner exit
• Gravel

Anything else is superfluous. The exit (trajectory of the curve) determines the speed with which I feel comfortable. The presence of gravel will probably affect the line I choose. This is a simplification. Anything large blocking the path (deer, downed rider, etc.) requires immediate action, but then you're kind of on autopilot anyway. And "gravel" means anything slippery including leaves, wet patches, etc.

That's all a long way of saying I felt really comfortable with this group. Everyone rode well.

Saturday
More great riding, led by Beaker's friend, O.J., who rode a Beemer GS. My highlight of the day was hanging out at a family reunion at one of the overlooks. The grandmother asked questions in a friendly manner. "So you all took vacation days and rode out here to do *what* exactly?"

I said, "To do what we're doing right now, hang out on picnic benches and meet interesting people!" She seemed skeptical.

The low point was getting a flat in my rear tire, but even that wasn't a big deal. We fixed it with tire strings and Sabrina's electric pump. Gotta love those Beemer folks and their gear!

That night, we attended a dulcimer festival in Mountain View. This involved great folk music, conversations with the locals and ice cream cones! Don't know what a dulcimer is? See http://picasaweb.google.com/RyanNelson515/200804TRTEARArkansas/photo#5193792555222562946

At this point, I would like to give a special shout out to my peeps, my best buds, the people who embody the sport-touring spirit in which this club was founded--the people who *rode* to the rally. A round of applause for:

David aka "Frito"
John P. aka "Beaker"
Sabrina aka "Peppermint Patty"

Nice job, folks! I also want to thank Ryan Nelson and B.D., my "buddies in Slime" for helping me with the tire. Joe McGov. wins the prize for the best late-night zingers. Do we have video of him heckling Henry as he attempted to edit a spreadsheet in the wee hours?

David P. aka "Frito" surprised us all when he took an impromptu detour--to Texas--to visit family on the way home. Mike Coon is a bad influence, having so much fun on the dual-sport that he's encouraging me to suffer a permanent case of MBS (multiple bike syndrome). And Bob and Henry's riding advice played a huge part in making me feel confident in the corners.

Everyone deserves a great trip like this, at least once.