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 9
May 4th, 2009
Lorton, Virginia

I was out early cleaning the screen of the RT, while David was taking out the trash.

"Have a good ride, come back again, enjoyed having ya."

"For sure, tell the kids and Cathy bye for me, prolly see ya again late August."

It was still misting rain.  Radar said I was rain free all the way to Tennessee, where a small patch of rain was hanging around.  "DC is starting to feel like Astoria, Oregon, I gotta get outta here."  I fired the RT up, and the Zumo booted up.  

The ride today is basically the ride as always from Lorton to Gatlinburg, with one caveat; going to leave 66 for a couple of local roads and pick up I-81 near Harrisonburg.  I tried to do it last Fall coming in from West Virginia, but messed it up when I took the wrong road because of no GPS.  The route is the shortest distance between the 2 interstates, but I'm sure in terms of time it will be longer.  That's ok, it will give me some relief from the interstates.

The short cut was in the Zumo, so I just had to ask the unit to pilot me to the starting point, from there I run a custom route back to 81, where I'll ask the unit to take me to my next route 250 miles south in Tennessee.

The incessant drip and drizzle of the last 5 days was still annoying me, but at least I was riding.  I reset the trip meters, and rolled out the driveway at 6:30am, "good to be back on the road."  I can't remember ever looking more forward to riding, even if the weather was dreary. 

Gas was half tank so I skipped filling up, "Prolly wanna stop in hundred miles anyway."

I went to the Fairfax County Parkway, and quickly connected to I-66, and ran counter commute out of the Metro to rural Virginia.  Long lines of east bound commuters were backing up near Manassas and I was glad not to be over there.  Escaping the Northeast is always a neat thing, when a guy gets on the other side of Manassas he's free of all the hectic riding from Washington to Boston.  

The one eyed headlight on the RT was bothering me, but I didn't want to take the time to remedy it, after 4 days of hanging out, I was just wanted to ride.

The misting rain let up in a few miles, then it was just cloudy.  It was cool, temp high 40s, so flipped on the heated seats and grips.  I had on the Joe Rocket gloves, and sweatshirt under the Roadcrafter.  It was all I needed.  

I left I-66 after 40 miles for CR 647.  A good choice.  I knew I did good when the local road took me far back into the hills.  I went by nice pastures, and rolling land.  The road was narrow, with no markings, so I kept my speed around 40 mph.  It tilted and slanted through the thick green woods, the riding was excellent.  Water was still dripping from the thick foliage overhead, and landing on my windscreen.

      A peaceful, quiet ride through rural Virginia.

It was a peaceful ride through the hills and valleys.  

              CR 647 near Flint Hill, Virginia

The ride ended when at U.S. 211, but I was looking forward to the roller coaster ride up to the park, the one I took coming down last fall.  The few miles up to the Thornton Gap entrance are as a good as it gets.  I shifted the suspension to sport mode and went to work.

The tight uphill run was a lot of fun.  Good curves and tarmac.  Most of these turns are more of the sweeping type, not very common in this part of the country.  If you ever find yourself on 81, needing to get to 66, you need to consider repeating this little ride.

U.S. 211 took me across Shenandoah National Park to I-81.

  
 The RT somewhere on the Shenandoah backroads of Virginia. 

At New Market I went to the MickeyD's I often stop at.  I had just put down a pleasant 100 miles and was looking for a snack. The store had the AC on full blast.

"Y'all gotta cut THAT off," as I pointed to the thermostat walking in.

The lady manager said, "are you cold sir?"

"M'am I'm downright freezing"

"Ok hold on"

I ordered a chicken biscuit and decided to set out things in a booth by the east windows.  It was quiet back there, and I could make a few phone calls.

It was still too early to call Debbie, she was at home, but getting ready for work.  I was in the ridiculous Eastern Time zone making it hard to coordinate.  "I'll hafta call her at lunch."  I checked the weather again, and could see nothing had changed, It was still raining down near Marion, about 200 miles south.

A man with a very annoying voice was in the store, it dominated the atmosphere.  You could hear him talking to his buddy from any point in the store.  It was that distinct.

I hung around about 30 minutes, then said, "better get some gas and get going."  I went across the street to a Chevron station.  Been my experience they don't put any ethanol in their gas.  My bikes run on ok on the stuff, but they do better without it.  I get better mpg, and the bikes run cleaner.  I filled the RT for about 11 something.

Back on 81, I settled in for the long ride south.  There seemed to be less trucks on the road this day then usual.  I set the cruise on 74, the suspension on normal, the screen  high, then leaned back on the MotoFizz.  Nothing left to do but watch the nice scenery float by.

The RT's suspension, even set to soft, is a little firmer then the plush ST's.  It handles the bumps a little stiffer than the Honda.  The RT is very well equipped for this kind of 200 mile interstate ride.  I had the screen high to block the cool wind, and that gave me very quiet cockpit.

A speeding SUV from Texas shot by doing 90.  "He is soon going to find out he is NOT in Texas."  Three miles later, a unmarked Dodge Challenger had him.  My streak of seeing somebody getting a ticket everytime I've been on this 200 mile stretch was still intact.  In fact, I saw another not long after this incident.

The RT ran smooth as I rode south under dark skies.  I was just happy not being wet.  It was a uneventful ride to Salem, where I exited for lunch.  Here, I eat at Mamma Maria's Italian buffet.  I use to eat at the Favolis across the street, but Mamma's put them out of business 2 years ago.  Score one for the little guys.

Mamma's has good pizza and pasta, and a little atmosphere.  It takes a some effort to find it when you leave 81, but worth it. 

I had been on the road 250 miles already; just halfway.  It will take the rest of the day for me to knockout the back half of this ride.  This will be my 6th or 7th time on this particular ride.  I know what to expect.

I was almost done eating when my phone lit up,  "Debbie Calling," her picture even comes up, with a old fashioned ring you use to have 40 years ago.  Can't mistake when its her.

"So how come not called me this morning?"

"I was just about to baby, I had 2 more bites of pizza to go"

"this is the first time you stopped all day?"

"well no, I stopped about 140 miles back, but it was too early to call ya, I knew you were gettin ready for work, and didn't have time to talk."

"Well, still shoulda called, I was wondering what you were doin and where you were. I wasn't even sure you were able to get out of Virginia today."

No 3G in Marion, all I had was Edge.  It was good enough to read the headlines, if you're not in a hurry.  I put a few notes in my Idiary, then went online and booked a room at the Econo Lodge in Gatlinburg.

My son and I had a short text conversation, and I checked in with my nephew.  It was a long break.

Now comes the longest part of the ride, (not really, it just seems like it) the 80 miles from here to SR 91, where I leave 81 and slip into the hills.  I paid my bill and left the lady a 3 dollar tip.

The Shenandoah Valley is a favorite place of mine, and 81 slices it right down the spine.  The interstate takes you past many nice farms and homes.  If you take the time to look around you won't be disappointed at the landscapes.  The highway dips and rises in many places as it works it way over the contours of the land.  In that respect 81 is different than most interstates because the builders didn't cut the road through the land, but over it.

It started raining near Christianburg, about where it said it would.  It was light at first, but soon picked up in intensity, and by the time I made it to Marion it was coming down hard.  I came around a Kawasaki Vulcan rider who was struggling in the storm.  He had on a shorty helmet, with  a windshield on the front of his ride.  The RT is very good at keeping the rider dry in conditions such as these.  A few miles later 4 HD riders, waved at me as they were sitting it out under a overpass, which I would NEVER do, too dangerous.  They probably thought I was crazy to be pushing on, but then again I wasn't wearing leather vests and jeans.  I also knew this block of rain hasn't moved all day, and is not likely too anytime soon, so they're in for a long wait.  But I also knew if I stayed with it, I'd be out of it in a few miles, and that's the difference in having good info and riding blind.  I went on a ride one day in Montana with no info and paid heavy for it.  Won't happen again.  You can read about that day here.

 Rain was still falling when the Zumo directed me to exit at SR 91 near Damascus, Virginia.  From here I'll be on a custom route to Gatlinburg.  "The fuel light is gonna come on soon, now'd be a good time for gas."  I went to a Chevron station for more ethanol free.  I gassed and got back on the road.  It was a short stop.

What a relief it was to be off 81, as SR 91 took me into the hills.  The road was quiet and a slow and a steady rain was coming down, but I knew I'd ride out of it soon.  I take a  comfort in this route.   I have a history with it, and that is why I like to ride it.  Way back 7 years ago, it was just a few roads on a map.  But now I share a past with it.  Riding it reminds me how far I've come as a Long Rider and a man.  Much has transpired with my life since the first time back in 2002.

Over the dollop hills  I went, passing farms with cows in the fields, and a few crops.  The low flying clouds seemed to stick on the hilltops.  The GPS said I'd arrive in Gatlinburg at 5:30pm.

Things have not changed much in Damascus since my last visit, it was still a quiet little town in the shadow of Mt. Rogers.

I guided the RT through Damascus, and turned on Shady Ave, rode past the football stadium and the Apple Peelers house.  I was passing through here one time and saw a man peeling apples in his front yard and stopped to chat.  You can read about that encounter here.

I crossed into Tennessee and the route changed to SR 133.  The rain was still falling and the RT splashed along the roadway as it made its way through the thick rain forest like atmosphere.  I'd never seen the area more green.  Beaverdam Creek flowed fast and furious as it snaked along side 133.  "Man this creek is going to be outta the banks before too long."  The pace was slow as I rode to Shady Valley.  

This creek was on the way to swelling out of the banks.
In these hills under the conditions, I was watchful of flash floods.

While stopped for a picture I noticed one of the RT's taillights was out.  "Well now I have a match to the headlight."

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I found this rickety old bridge on a side road near SR 133

Shady Valley is becoming a motorcycle destination, because it sits near U.S. 421, a fine motorcycle road in its own right.  This area is ripe with good riding, and I enjoy my visits here.  I continued south across 421 and took the RT up in elevation.  Several old silos stood guard and looked menacing under the dark skies. 

Because the road was damp I was unable to get much leaning in on the ride over the mountain to Elizabethton.  SR 133 is home to long drops offs, that would probably be fatal if a Long Rider miscalculated and went over with any speed.  I suggest riding it well within your limits.

     SR 33 passing through Shady Valley, Tennessee 

Nearing the city the rain finally stopped.  I made it through, but a short ride later I was in Johnson City, a college town that takes a lot of patience to get through.  I pretty much knew the way, so I mostly ignored the GPS.

At the intersection of 321 and U.S. 11 I took a break at a McDonald's just across the street from the East Tennessee campus.  I got a apple pie and found a booth, checked the news, called Debbie and my son, and sent my niece in law a text.

While I was sitting there one of the managers was doing interviews.  She had a continuous line of people the entire time I was there.  All kinds of folks, old, young, male, female.  Testimony to the times we are in.  Many of the folks didn't look like your regular burger flipper.

When I came back out the skies had broken up into partly cloudy!  Sun!  For the first time in a long time, I was able to switch to Oakelys and leather gloves!  "Next stop Gatlinburg."

I remained on 321 out of the city and was bogged down by a lady in a Civic, but the road turned 4 lane and I was able to get by her. I passed by the Davy Crocket birthplace,  "already did that," so kept going.

Because I placed waypoints on the north and south end of Greenville, the Zumo took me off my usual course.  "I usually turn right here, but its telling me to go this way"  The GPS, seeing the distances, took me through downtown instead of the loop around.  Probably a little slower, but a nice diversion.  I picked the usual route back up south of the city.

It was late afternoon now, and I was in the last 60 miles of my ride.  The road into Newport is good as it skirts across a few small hills and around farms.  There are too many driveways on 321, some of them rather abrupt and even doing the speed limit might be a little too much.  

Smoky Mountain vista from U.S. 321 near Greenville, Tn.

An SUV was in front of me with someone waving at me from the rear hatch, but when I got closer I saw it was not a child but a dog, facing forward with his tail wagging.

 I always enjoy this part of the ride as the Smoky Mountains become more pronounced.

Newport is the last stop for someone looking to do so, before going in the hills.  I was not inclined to this day, so I went over the RR tracks that bisect the town, and headed into the Smoky Mountains.  The highway follows the edge of the park past a series of campgrounds and cabins.  It was along  here I thought about all the times I've been to Gatlinburg over the years.  My first visit was my honeymoon in 1976.  It has always been one of my favorite places, and yes it is tacky, but so what, I still find it fun.  While riding along I thought about all those years since 1976, Debbie and I were just kids then. 

The Smokies seemed to be welcoming me as I finished the last few miles into the city.  The day had been a great ride.  "I'm glad I waited out the rain the extra day."  A local cop was running radar by the city limits, but I was no where near the speed limit. 

The checker flag on my Zumo screen came up letting me know I'd reached the end of the custom route.  I knew where the Econo was and went straight to it.  I pulled in the front and went in the office after a 508 mile ride.

The young man behind the desk seemed glad to see me.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah I gotta a reservation."

I gave him my stats and after checking the screen he came back.

"Don't see ya in here"

"You sure?"

"Don't see it, do you have a reservation number?"

"One better, got the confirmation email right here on my Iphone"

I took it out and showed him the screen.

"ok here's the problem, you're booked for tomorrow tonight"

"Is that gonna be a problem?"

"Oh no, you're good, just let me change it.  How do you like the Iphone?"

"love it, I don't know how I did without it"

"yeah, I gotta get me one."

My room was on the 4th floor and that kind of sucked, (long way to carry gear) but I had a good rate and a balcony to sit on.

I called Debbie and reported in.  "Done for the day."

"Ok good, how was it today?"

"it was good, nice ride, but Gatlinburg ain't the same without you, we'll bring the Civic up here later on this year"

"ok that sounds like fun"

Now it was time to take a shower and go to supper.  I noticed the tub had hot water jets, so after my shower I filled it up and fired it up.  Man that felt good.  I was feeling kind of stiff, and my right hand was sore.  My leather gloves are tight and offers too much resistance on my wrist.  The hot water made it feel much better.  I soaked in the jet streams for 15 minutes, almost falling asleep.

I had to stand up to cut the timer, and when I did it lowered the water level below the ports and water blew all over the bath.  I felt like I was in a submarine trying to tighten pipes like you see in the movies.  "Dayum! Cut it off! Cut it off!" My mind screamed.

After my shower I dressed and set out to find something to eat.  The motel was just a few blocks off Main Street.  I went to my stand by, Texas Roadhouse.  I'm such a creature of habit.  It was a nice 10 minute walk, past the old Space Needle that has been there forever, and the tram up to Ober Gatlinburg.  Thoughts about our honeymoon dominated my thinking time on the way to supper.

The city was slow and so was the Roadhouse, I asked the young lady to seat me near the bar so I could see the TV.  This trip really didn't warrant an end of ride steak, so I had the chicken breast.  I put notes in and read the sports while waiting for supper. I also picked up a response from my niece about my earlier text. 

The food was good, and the young  waitress came over to chat.  "I'm gonna talk your ears off cause I'm bored, slow tonight."  Not one to be impolite, I set the Iphone down and chatted with the young single mother for 10 minutes.  She was from Johnson City.  

I remarked, "there is no easy way from Johnson City to here, how do you do it?"

"I just do it, but it ain't easy."  We talked about my travels.  "So where are you coming from this trip?"

"I was up in Pennsylvania"

She worked me for a nice tip, I know how the game is played, but she was different and sincere.  She really wanted to chat.  There is something about a Long Rider traveling alone that makes people want to talk, hard to explain but happens to me often.

It was dark when I left the restaurant for the walk back to the motel.  The Ripley's horror museum was closing when I strolled past.  The streets were mostly disserted.

The radar scan had no rain in the area although it was still dark and cloudy.  I clicked channels till about 11pm then hit the lights. Looking forward to the ride home the next day, but I didn't know then what I'd find in the morning.

Next-tough final ride home

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