Guy Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages

Adventures in Sport Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT

Exploring North America...One Road at a Time

Day 3
April 29th, 2009
Pipestem State Park
Near Beckley, West Virginia

I was up at first light, because today would be a 500 mile plus day,  half in the West Virginia hills.  Even with a early start, it was no card lock I could get off the road by dark.  My goal for the day was the suburbs of Philly.

The cruel night was finally gone.  I didn't sleep well at all, but like I knew at the time, morning would make everything better.  I don't know why I felt so lonely last night, and had all these images of bad things.  But it was morning now and time to ride, so I brushed it off to a creative imagination, or maybe it was the thought of a big rain storm on the way.

Speaking of which, radar indicated it was raining everywhere in West Virginia but where I was at.  "This is not good, not good at all."  I briefly thought of chucking the days ride in the hills, and auto route the interstates to Philly.  "No, that would be worse then riding the hills, I'll lose my sanity if I have to spend another day on the slab."

I hurriedly struck camp, thinking any minute it could start raining, and I'd have to pack wet gear.  Twenty minutes later I was loaded and ready to go.  It was 6:30 am.  I had the early start I needed to get this ride in the books.  I started the day with the long sleeve t shirt under, regular glasses, and all the vents zipped on the Roadcrafter.  "It will not be any warmer then the present."  So dressed accordingly.

On the way out of the park I saw 3 tame does nonchalantly nibbling leaves on a few bushes, they paid me no mind when I eased by.

Today's ride is a custom route created from my atlas and software.  It wasn't complicated the first 200 miles, but after that it will have numerous route changes.  My plan is to ride the hills, go across Maryland, into Pennsylvania Amish Country and come into Philly from the west, avoiding the turnpike all together.

I picked up SR 20 just outside the park and proceeded north.  The route is a twisting, hilly run 200 miles north through the woods.  It is a true testament to West Virginia, a witness to all the good, and the bad.  I've toured extensively in this state, there is not much left for me to do here.  I've been on all the major roads end to end.  

The highway was quiet, and I was on the lookout for deer.  Why it wasn't raining I had no idea, but it looked like it should be.  A low cloud ceiling seemed it could fall to the earth at any minute, and wisps of clouds appeared to drift up out of the valleys.  I had the road to myself.

Like most highways and roads in West Virginia, SR 20 follows the contours of some kind of water.  On this part of the route it is the New River.

The road had a few twists the first 20 or so miles, but nothing serious, so I bumped the ESA to the sport position.  The RT felt like it was stuck to the road with the new rubber.  "Gaaah this is a good handling touring bike," I whispered.  I was just in this area last Fall on the ST 1300, and compared to the Honda, the RT was much quicker to heel over in the tight mountain curves.  On the downside it took more work on the gear box and clutch to keep the RT in the correct zone.  On the Honda what gear you're in doesn't much matter, it powers out of any turn with just a twist.

In the early morning gray, I came to Hinton.  One of the larger villages in this part of the state.  Isolated by a covey of mountains, the place seemed something like out of Transylvania, and sits on the banks of the New River.

Hinton, West Virginia.  The place seemed right out of 
Transylvania. 

I stared across the bridge into Hinton.  I wondered what may lie ahead for me across the bridge?  I gazed over the river into a gothic looking hamlet hidden from the world.  

After a brief internal debate, I thought, "lets get this over with."  I feared I was about to be the subject of a horror movie.  "Long Rider vanishes in Hinton," the headline when they find out I'm missing.  Maybe they find me weeks later after Uncle Phil leads a group of guys from the ST forums to search for me.  I went across the bridge into the downtown area, and I couldn't ever remember a sadder looking place.  The business district was a depressed area of old shops and stores, a few dark, scary looking churches, and tenement houses that had seen better days.  SR 20 cut right through the heart of town, as it made its way north.

      " I stared across the bridge into Hinton"

The New River was full and flowing fast.  All through West Virginia, towns and villages sprang up on the banks of water bodies, always guarded by steep hills. The gloomy day only added to the eerie atmosphere.

A cop pulled next to me in the turn lane as I waited out a light in the business district, he glanced over to me, but did not stay long.  Houses circled the downtown area. "I reckon most of the people just live and work in town?"  I could not imagine living in such a place.  I would feel cramped, and closed in.   I saw no Applebee's, Blockbusters, or shiny Target stores, there was nothing cheerful anywhere.  Even the people seemed resigned to their fate.

After clearing the old business district, SR 20 carried me out through the north end of town by a row of houses right on the highway.  The front yards were virtually a blacktop.  Space is such a premium in these hills, you build where you can.  There are no sprawling McMansion subdivisions in this part of the state, like in my hometown.   I went past the high school, and thought about the kids behind the walls, and if any of them knew of a big, colorful world outside of these hills.  My guess most of the populace worked in the timber, or mining industry and the rest worked for the state in some capacity.

 
SR 20 thru Hinton.  "a row of houses on the highway. "

There was no glamorous or shiny east side in Hinton.  Prattville has all the latest trendy restaurants and shops, including brand new massive shopping complexes, with pricey specialty stores.  You can find most anything you want in my once quaint hometown now days.  It is a warm, sunny place with a bright future even in the middle of a deep recession.

To make matters worse, it began to rain.  The drops began appearing on the screen of the RT just as the road left Hinton and returned to the hills.  At first it was a drizzle, but in a few miles it was a steady rain.  The temps hovered around the low 50s.  I pulled off and took my Iphone and camera out of my pockets and secured them in the MotoFizz bags to make sure they stayed dry.  If I left them in my pockets the rain would eventually seep through and cause problems.

I moved the screen higher to block the rain and kept riding,  The only thing about that is the wind management is so good on the RT, I had no circulation to clear the shield of the Arai, and as a result it began to fog up.  I cracked the shield at the bottom a little more and opened the mouth vent, and that cleared things up.

The road grew steep and twisty and negotiating it in such harsh weather was tedious work.  Unable to lean much on the wet road, my speed dropped to 40 mph.  Visibility through the rain drops on the shields was limited.  I had to constantly read the road surface as wash outs were common, and because right hand curves had low shoulders (coal trucks) standing water was beginning to overlap the road bed.  "Man this is bad, I have to becareful."  I had to keep riding, I was in the middle of nowhere, and any escape to better roads was a long way off.

Still I managed to take in my surroundings.  Perhaps it was because I was not able to ride up tempo that I took a few extra glances at the sites I was riding past.  I went by old houses with falling porches and trim work, with rusting old cars in the front.  Most of these houses were located between the road and the creek.  "I bet you couldn't count the times that house has been flooded."  That reminded me to be on the lookout for flash floods.  If anything Long Riding has taught me it is pay attention to the geography, and to ALWAYS be aware of it.  In these hills, water is constantly seeking the low spot, it will take the path of least resistance everytime.  The hills are so concentrated around here, it does not take much rain to swell these hundreds of creeks out of the banks and over the highway.

"I better keep moving north, all that water is moving down this way, and won't be long a few bridges are gonna wash out, and I'll be stuck."

I was somewhere in the hills when I met a south bound car way over the line in a long left hander, I moved over and let him have all the space he needed.

From advance weather recon, I knew the rain would not let up till Eastern Pennsylvania, there was no need to think otherwise, I knew the facts.  Sometimes not knowing is a blessing.  My only hope it would lighten in some places as opposed to others.

After 100 miles I began looking for a place to take my morning break, something with a canopy so I could park out of the rain.  I let a couple suitable places go by, thinking I could find another.  Not having ate since lunch yesterday, I was starting to get hungry.  "Next store I see, I'm in."  

SR 20 is not as smooth as most West Virginia roads, in fact in several places it was bad.  I was surprised.

After 150 non stop miles in the hills, I found a Marathon station in a place called Arlington.  It had no canopy but it would have to do.  The rain had let up, but it was still steady.  The store had a few old gas pumps, and a long narrow parking lot.  Inside it had snack bar where some kind of biscuits were being served.  Three ladies were sitting at the counter, each with a stack of Powerball lottery tickets, and scratch offs.  Anything for a chance to escape these hills and misery.  "I called out to no one in particular, "So what's it up to?"  A lady responded, "91 million."  "Man I could make do with that," I said.  She looked over her glasses, "you and me both."

I bought a Moutain Dew and blueberry muffing, and stood by the door.  I asked the lady at the cash register.  "look here baby, any bridges north of here subject to wash out?"  "Not really, most are south of here, but in this weather anything is possible.  But not really raining hard enough for that."  "Yeah, but I've been watching the creeks, and rivers, and the water is gettin up."  "I know, it has been a wet spring."

I had no signal and was unable to call home.

I went back outside to the falling rain.  I could see the drops making splashes in the standing water scattered around the parking lot.  Water flowed off the roof, down a gutter, and onto metal barrel, making a loud noise.  Before mounting up I put away the soaking wet leather sport gloves and got out the warmer, Joe Rocket water resistant gloves.  I also put on a sweatshirt to ward off the persistent chill that comes with being damp on the outside shell.  I punched the starter, and kicked up the stand and got back on the road.  "What a depressing day," as I pulled back out to the highway.

For several reasons I had to forego any photo ops.  There was no safe place to pull off on 20 in these conditions, but more then that, I wasn't in the mood to take pictures.  It was just too wet to take the cameras out.  I wanted to keep riding to get out of the rain as soon as possible.

Not long after my stop the rain let up.  "I must be passing under a break."  The roads were drying off, and I was able to get in some good leans on 20.  It was fun.  By the time I made it to Buckhannon I was almost dried out.  From here, I knew my ride on 20 was almost over.

The day was still cloudy and dreary, and it felt more like October than late April (I've been through WVA in Fall).

North of Buckhannon I missed the turnoff for U.S. 119.  The GPS was plainly telling me to turn, but I still missed it somehow.  I turned around at a dirt road, just beyond the intersection.  The area was muddy, but I managed to get turned around without dropping the RT in the quicksand.

U.S. 119 shadowed a railroad for many miles.  The road was curvy and the elevations higher, than 20.  Traffic was also more pronounced.

From U.S. 119 I could see the city of Grafton below through the trees.  It reminded me of Hinton.  I came down out of the hills, crossed the tracks and river into the town.  I really didn't know where the route changes were, I just followed the route I set up in the software.  I followed the GPS through town, and started looking for a place to eat.  The rain was still holding off.  

The town was a mostly dead place, but activity picked up markedly on the side of town where U.S. 50 came through.

Because I wasn't sure what kind of internet connection I might get in this place, I went to the McDonalds at the U.S. 50 and 119 intersection for a known wifi outlet.  It still wasn't raining, but I could tell it was about to any second.

I took the lesser of the evils and ordered 2 small hamburgers, and found a high top table near the window so I could watch my bike.  I had a good WiFi connection and the first thing I did was check my email.  I had just started when the bottom fell out, I ran back out to my bike and brought my coat in that I had left hanging by the loop on the lever to help dry out.

Back inside I finished eating and took a look at the radar.  Rain all the way to where I wanted to go.  I ate lunch with a satisfied feeling after successfully dealing with SR 20 and the weather.  I was halfway now, and out of the mountains.  "Pace should pick up from here."

An older man came up to me and started talking about bikes.  He was a kindly gentleman with a pleasant voice, he had a newspaper under his arm.  He asked about my trip and the next thing I know he sits down.  I guess I just look like the friendly type.  He said he rode a motorcycle, but I forget what kind.  His son has a sport bike. 

After a few minutes he left and went to a booth.  A couple of small kids were running all over the store and they were annoying.

I called Debbie at work, and spent some time with her, then called Chris.  Both were doing fine and glad to hear from me, they could see the weather was bad where I was. 

"Everything alright?"  She asked.

"Yeah, just wet, gotta get back on the road though, call ya later."

"ok becareful"

I went back out to the RT in a driving rain and took U.S. 50 East out of town, a few miles later I went to SR 26, and was immediately bogged down by a lumber truck.  The rain let up, but it was still steady.  It took a few miles before I could get around truck.

I got a little too close to the yellow line, and paid the price when 2 big trucks sprayed me when they came flying past going the other way.

SR 26 took me to I-68.  My idea on this route was to bypass Morganton, and in that regard it worked pretty well.  It was STILL rainingm but at least I could speed up.  I went to 75 mph, and brought the screen full up.  Moving across the Cumberland Gap, the temps plummeted into the high 40s.  I turned on the heated seats and grips and in a few miles I was feeling toasty, especially on my bottom.  "Man I hope all this water doesn't short out these grips and I get lit up," was my question.

A few miles east of Cumberland the rain stopped, just where the radar said it would.  In fact the entire area was dry.  It was still drab, but at least it wasn't raining.

I-68 through Cumberland is the strangest urban interstate I've ever seen.  It goes right through downtown at street level.  Through parking lots, yards, and parks, just a few feet from the slab.  I took a glance to my right, and saw guys sitting out red lights.  It was weird.

When 68 ended at I-70 I stayed east bound on the latter.  At the I-81 interchange I went north.   I was making good time now, and it felt good to open it up a little.

I left 81 for U.S. 30.  If I was going to skip the turnpike this would be the way to go, but you couldn't be any hurry.  Right away I began to see signs about the battlefield and places to stay and eat.

All roads in this area lead to Gettysburg.  One of the reasons the battle came to be fought here.  I followed the highway into town past several battlefield memorials.  The road cuts across McPherson's Ridge to the roundabout in the center of town.  I'd been on 2 previous battlefield tours, so felt no need to do so again, no, today, I have other things to do.

Out of the mountains the temps increased and I turned off the heated seat and grips.

I rode into town on reserve so stopped for gas at a Sunoco station near the center of town.  I filled the RT for 12.36.  Gas is less then half  of last summer and it was nice.  While stopped I took out my Iphone and checked the rain situation.  There was a lot of rain south of me, but I would be ok all the way to Philly.  After being wet the first 350 miles that was welcome news.

I stayed on U.S. 30 through the tidal like city of York, lots of urban sprawl.

The Harley factory at York didn't seem to be doing much when I came by.  The miles of of rain in the hills, and the urban sprawl riding was tiring me, so by now I was ready to get to the Motel 6 in Prussia.

For some reason Lancaster, Pennsylvania is a tourist destination.  People flock here by the thousands to see Amish folks.  I find that odd, and I wonder how they feel about that.  I'd take offense if folks thought me strange enough they'd make a vacation out of coming to see how I live, but that's just me.  I'll say this, a few of those folks know how to make a buck off tourists and sell them furniture, buggy rides, and crafts.

Lancaster is filled with all the stuff tourist do.  Goofy golf, movies, motels, fast food and casual dining places.  

Outside of the city the scenery is nice as 30 took me past farms and fields.  A few times the barns were too close to the highway and it smelled like a Kansas livestock pen.  But soon 30 changed into a freeway, and I was able to run non stop into Philly. I sped along at 75 mph in the 65 speed limit only because I had a few rabbits willing to take one for the team.  

The GPS carried me right to the Motel 6 across the street from the King of Prussia Mall.  I set the stand in the early evening dusk after a 517 mile day.  It was a tough but satisfying ride.  "Well at least I saved 20 bucks by staying off the turnpike, but dunno if I'd do it that way again."

I unloaded the RT and set my stuff in room 124, then went back outside to clean my windshield, and bring in the GPS, but I couldn't get the Zumo out of the mount.  "Something is wrong."  I worked and worked the bracket, but it wouldn't let go.   For 30 minutes I struggled with it.  I finally gave up.  "Well I reckon I better go to plan B"  I took out the rain flap for the Eureka and placed it over the front end of the 1200 to hide the unit.  "Man I hope this works, but who knows."

With the RT cleaned up it was time for me to clean up.  I took a long shower and shave, and put on my jeans and long sleeve shirt, grabbed my phone and went down the street to Chili's for supper.  I sat at the bar near the tv and made small talk with the lady tending the bar.

"Like a menu?"

"Yes m'am that would be good."

"Not from around here are you?"

"Nooooooo not hardly"

"What brings you to Philly, business?"

"Nothing really, just out riding my motorcycle, I'm stayin at a nearby motel, but I do have a uncle in West Chester I plan on seein tomorrow before I head back south."

"oh ok"

I had the chicken tenders, and they were good.  The Phillies game was on the TV.

When I finished eating I called home then my son.  I put a few notes in the Idiary, and even web surfed.  I had a good Wifi connection.  All the rain I came through west of here was coming this way, but it was moving slow.  I had a good window to get back south, but after that it looked bad.  That was ok, because I was going to be in DC for 3.5 days.

Stuffed to the brim the short walk back to the motel was welcomed.  Before going to the room I checked the RT to make sure the zumo was still there.  It was.

The restaurant was a little too noisy to talk so I called Debbie back to make sure she was good to go tomorrow.  I was to pick her up tomorrow night in Baltimore.

"got everything ready?"

"yeah ready to go"

"ok, I should be there by late afternoon, just keep me posted on what's goin on with voice mails."

Finished with that I sent my brother in law a text I was on schedule and would see them tomorrow night, and I still had the code to let myself in.

I tried to watch tv but couldn't. I didn't get much sleep the night before so it was hard to stay awake, I clicked the tv off and went to sleep, it had been a long day.

Next- visiting my uncle and on to DC.

It was unbearble.  I felt like I needed a dose of prozac to lift my depression after riding through Hinton.