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  »Tales of Whoa

Motorcycling has so many good points, Kit Wilton will tell you. As our LR writer and motorbike enthusiast continues this Tale of Whoa through the southeastern US, she reminds us that motorbike riding provides a far superior experience of sightseeing than does a car. The socializing seems superior too. All this, and the cost for gasoline is less.

Flying with Friends

Amazing as it might sound, we slept like babies in Virginia Beach where temperatures hovered close to 80°F (about 25°C) all night. Maybe we were becoming acclimatized to the heat after the many days of motorcycling over hot asphalt.

Refreshed, we were up and packed, ready to roll by 7:00am, trying to be as quiet as possible as we rode out the park. We were soon to be reminded of one of the main reasons why motorcycling is a great way to travel.

The State Park is just minutes from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, the bridge we would travel to our next destination. The bridge is considered one of the seven engineering wonders of the modern world. It is a four-lane 20-mile long toll crossing of the Lower Chesapeake Bay. The road consists of a series of low trestles with two one-mile long tunnels beneath the navigation channels of the bay. There are man-made islands at the entrance of each tunnel and are also two high level bridges over two of the other navigation channels. The crossing was magnificent with the sun climbing over the water, the fog lifted to reveal another perfect day. How could we be this lucky! Motorboats were speeding neck and neck with us, I imagined them traveling to their favourite fishing spots while dolphins played alongside.

"This is why we ride a motorbike," I leaned forward to tell Wayne. "In a car, these views would be non existent. Your eye would see only the safety railing running the length of the bridge. On bikes we look up and over to get the full effect of riding on water!" He agreed as we soaked in the sights this first part of the day.

The crossing actually took no time at all and after breakfast at a 24-hour grocery store along the highway and checking the map we confirmed we would ride to York, PA, home of a Harley Davidson assembly plant. Marlin was keen to do the tour.

Wayne and I had toured the plant years before with the General, Cathy and another couple. The plant has an open house every late September and tens of thousand come to see the newest models rolling off the assembly line. The fall we rode down we had to crack ice off the seats and we all dressed like Michelin Men/Women. This would be a more comfortable visit to say the least.

Our travels took us north and we once again crossed Chesapeake Bay at Annapolis where the bridge was even more exhilarating than the Bridge-Tunnel combo. The bridge expanse was so high that I felt like we were flying.

The ride was hot so mid afternoon we stopped for lunch at a wonderful Italian restaurant. A lovely elderly couple asked Marlin to help get their walkers out of the trunk of their car proving once again that we do NOT look tough! After an hour long cooling off we pressed on arriving in York late afternoon.

That evening we found an awesome ice cream shop that had been in the town for nearly 50 years. It felt like we had entered a time warp but the ice cream sundae was the best!

We toured the plant first thing the following morning. Marlin and Wayne seemed to enjoy. Sue and I just endured. Safety goggles and two way radios do not make a great fashion statement. It was so loud inside that the radio was our only way of hearing the guide. Thankfully we did not need to wear the pretty blue booties. Fortunately, we visited the very nice Harley store that's part of the plant and so after we bought our T-shirts, we were back on the bikes.

The bikes were becoming heavily laden with souvenir shirts and various other collectibles. No longer were we neatly arranged. Instead things just hung haphazardly from every part of each of the bikes. Sue could barely sit upright as Marlin kept stuffing more onto the back. So it should come to no surprise when Wayne pulled over to check his map on a twisty, lumpy road. Sue pulled up alongside tried to put her kickstand down when it happened. In slow motion her bike started to lean to the left. She looked in terror as she realized it was going down (that momentum thing). Sue stayed glued to the seat and thanks to an enormously full saddle bag the bike just kinda rolled over onto the luggage. Marlin jumped…as usual too late to try and catch her. Other than her ego, Sue was not hurt; however, she would no longer be able to brag that she had never dropped her bike. Oh, and after careful scrutiny, Marlin announced the bike was fine also.

The ride through Pennsylvania offered several twisties and scenic roads. We have ridden often in this area enjoying the Alleghenies and Amish country.

Still, after two weeks on bikes, we really were anxious to get home. One more night on the road ought to do it, we decided. So with that in mind, we started looking for a motel. The only available room we found was in Bradford, PA. Also known as the home of the Zippo lighter.

"Hey they offer a tour!" I hollered at Sue and Marlin. They gave a look of complete disgust. "I guess that's out," I laughed at Wayne.

Rooms were scarce at the De Soto Motel (a very sixties place), so one last time we bunked together. By now, all our inhibitions were a thing of the past. Who has the shorts? Who would have thought that in two weeks we would change from middle-aged adults to giddy teens. Goodnight, Gym Bag, Good night, John Boy and so it had gone the entire trip.

We made one last stop at the Harley Davidson dealer in Gowanda, New York. Marlin picked out a snazzy riding jacket and I bought a sweater.

We had put 5200 kilometres (3200 miles) on the bikes without incident. Furthermore, we were still friends. At the end of the day, what else could we ask for? As we waved goodbye on the 401 back in Ontario, we smiled, knowing you meet the nicest people on motorcycles, which is another reason why traveling this way is so great.