Ride to Rolling Thunder XXI

The bike was packed, the forecast was calling for four straight days of sunshine, and I had a destination; DC, for the 2008 annual Rolling Thunder rally. Zig would be accompanying me this year, and our departure time was set for 7am.

The sun was beginning to break free of the morning clouds when we pulled out of his driveway and pointed our tires southwards. There was a small fee to be paid before we could relish in the speed and ease of the highways; 3 miles of slow moving townfolk, but then, there it was - the on-ramp!

Sliding gently into the turn, leaning the bikes ever lower as we throttled up, we rocketed out of the bend and assumed our place in the pavement race. Being pleasantly surprised to find the traffic moving well, it didn’t take us long to set a good pace - a pace which brought a constant array of new vehicles and faces into view as we left the olds ones to fade in our mirrors.

Traffic treated us well right into Providence and beyond; a nice omen, for certain. Things were holding up for us as we hammered across the CT border in just under an hour’s time. At this pace, we should be able to reach our destination in the hoped-for 8 hours. The one caveat; the dreaded NYC! I’d yet to encounter an easy path through that dragon’s lair. But surprises were aplenty upon this ride; NYC offered minimal resistance as we laid waste to it’s roadways, and sailed across it’s flagship delayer; the GW Bridge. In a previously unheard of time, we found ourselves safely across the moat called Hudson and welcomed into the folds of New Jersey.

Ahh, but such a treacherous wench is that Jersey… She offers herself up to you with promises of unencumbered speed and ease of passage. 6 lanes of travel! Three ‘express’ lanes to the left, 3 ‘local/truck’ lanes to the right. Such heady temptations – should we take the left lanes? The right lanes? The correct answer is both! However, to facilitate such bold moves, one needs a vehicle capable of quick changes and sudden bursts of speed. Thankfully, Zig and I had brought just such vehicles with us.

We started with the express lanes, but when the wily Jersey threw many miles of backup and congestion upon us, we split the guardrails and were soon hammering along the local lanes, slicing between trucks and other assorted large vehicles. When Jersey caught on to our deceit, she rallied her many-wheeled vehicles to her aid and we soon found ourselves being hemmed in again. And Jersey would not be denied a second time. She made sure of this by drawing upon her fail-safe; the infernal ‘lane merge’!! Ahh yes, where you bring 6 lanes of travel down to 3. There would be no respite for us this time, as both groups of lanes fell victim to this dastardly device.

And there we found ourselves; helpless, as the sea of multi-axled vehicles surrounded us on all sides, slowing us further and further until we had no choice but to surrender our boots to the blacktop. We’d rolled the dice against the holiday traffic and it looked like we were going to lose.

Our hopes for a smooth day weren’t entirely dashed, though. Once we were able to finally break free of the vile vehicle constraints, we hopped onto the throttles yet again in an attempt to wrest back some of the time which we’d lost. We sailed through Delaware with nary a blink of the eye. I think a couple of LEO’s doing speed detail were aware of something passing by them, but they were unable to lock onto the blue and black streaks as we shot past.

Passing into Maryland, our roll of the dice finally came to a stop and sure enough; we’d crapped out. The 495 beltway is apparently in cahoots with Jersey, and that evil vixen had called ahead. Waiting for us was more deadlocked traffic and we were once again forced to introduce the soles of our boots to the hot blacktop. Our one consolation was that we were on the outer loop. While we were engaged in an infuriating game of hurry up and wait, at least we had some periods of movement. The traffic on the inner loop was not moving at all. It became ever more apparent that we’d better pay attention and not miss our exit. If we had to double back (via the inner loop), we’d be proper F’d for certain.

Spotting our exit ahead, we carved a path through the near immobile metal machinery and made a break for it. Sparing a quick glance at the directions taped to my dash, we signaled right turns at the top of the off-ramp and tore open the throttles.

Slicing hard around the corner, our right feet scraping along the tar to keep ourselves from lowsiding, we were graced with the sight of a twisty one-laner, carving its way beneath a most-welcome canopy of thick branches and leaves. The accompanying shadows bathed us with their cool air and fresh country scents. Hard to believe that we’d just been on a concrete jungle mere moments earlier.

Sensing that we were now free from further highway hindrances, we eased back on the RPM’s to allow proper homage to the surrounding scenery. No need to be shredding these serene streetways; better to meander a bit and soak in the peaceful atmosphere.

A right turn, followed by a left, and we were pulling up in front of our destination. And what a destination it turned out to be! Palatial and inviting, this house was surely a welcome sight to two tired and road weary bikers. Before we’d even had a chance to dismount, there appeared at the doorway the two lovely maidens who’d been gracious enough to extend the invite to us in the first place; Kerry and Erin.

Hugs were exchanged and we were advised that cold beers were waiting for us in the fridge - is there any better way to be welcomed? (Well, ok, there is a better way, but these ladies are our friends! So get those naughty thoughts out of your heads!)

And such was our ride down to DC last Friday. (Those of you who are used to my writing style may recognize a few embellishments here and there.) I’ll get the actual Rolling Thunder rally wrap-up on here by week’s end, and I promise to stick to just the facts, ma’am.

Ride Hard, Take Chances