May 5-7, 2012 - West Virginia

DAY 1 - MAY 5
Gypsy Stats:
12 hours 47 minutes Elapsed Time
9 hours 58 minutes Riding Time
501 Miles
50.3 mph Average

Beemer Stats:
515 Miles
54 mph
48 mpg
Gas Log:  45.6 mpg

Up the ramp onto the slab to make tracks to W Va

DAY 2 - MAY 6

Crossing the Susquehanna on the Pa Pike under blue skies

Gypsy Stats:
10 hours 10 minutes Elapsed Time
8 hours 9 minutes Riding Time
339 Miles
41.6 mph Average

Beemer Stats:
354 Miles
47 mph
51 mpg
Gas Log:  49.3 mpg

DAY 3 - MAY 7
Gypsy Stats:
9 hours 53 minutes Elapsed Time
8 hours 9 minutes Riding Time

The Blue Ridge from I 81 slabbin' down the Shenandoah Valley

417 Miles
51.1 mph Average

Beemer Stats:
428.4 Miles
48 mph Blue Highways
63 mph Concrete Slab
49 mpg
Gas Log:  49.6 mpg

OVERALL WEEKEND
Gypsy Stats:
59.4 hours Elapsed Time
26.3 hours Riding Time
1257 Miles
47.9 mph

Clouds rolling in; rain coming

Triumph Stats:
59 hours Elapsed Time
1292 Miles
48 mpg
$232 Total Cost

Beemer Stats:
1297 Miles
~$243 Total Cost
Gas Log:
47.6 mpg
29.53 gal of gas
$118.36 gas cost
$4.01 average cost per gallon for premium

DAY 1
The plan was to form up early at Lowe's in Sinking Spring and get a jump on the day by slabbin' out to Carlisle for breakfast.  We hit the first snag when Tim ran afoul of a grumpy State Trooper in downtown Reading.  He (Tim) was doing serpentines within the boundaries of his traffic lane in order to scrub in the new tires that he and Dave had installed on Wednesday evening - technically not illegal but enough to catch the attention of Johnny Law.  Unfortunately, riding without registration or insurance card is technically illegal, resulting in a return trip home, trailing the trooper, to retrieve his cards and show proof of ownership and insurance.  So Tim arrived half an hour late and slightly out of sorts, so to speak.  Still, we were off by 8:00 and soon slabbin' down the Pa 'Pike - always a great road for making time - landing about an hour later at Fay's Country Kitchen in Carlisle.  Hard to stay grumpy after pancakes at Fay's!

Skies were blue, temperatures were climbing (60 to start the morning but soon up as high as 78), the road was open and we were rolling.   I 81 down the Shenandoah Valley can be ugly, filled with trucks rolling through Martinsburg, etc., and riding the Interstates is not the most engaging motorcycle activity, but today the road was fairly benign and we were having a great time just making time to one of our favorite riding areas.

Skies clouded over as we headed south and before we got to Staunton, our planned jumping off point, around 1:00, we hit rain.  In Staunton, we stopped for gas and geared up for the rain.  This included stowing the new handlebar camera in the covered tank bag, so no more pictures for today.  I put on the Frogg Toggs jacket and decided to count on the suit liner for protection on my legs.  I had the Triumph one-piece rain suit with me, but it is such a pain to get in and out of I thought I would chance the rain not being so hard.  Well, I was sort of OK, meaning I was not actually soaked by the end of the day, but at times the rain was hard enough and went on long enough that I was definitely damp inside by the time we stopped.  On a good note, I used the integral Frogg Toggs hood as a helmet liner which meant no helmet drip down the back of the neck.  I need to perfect the rain suit - I think a new pair of Frogg Toggs pants, or maybe Goretex overpants would do the trick.  That would free up the not insignificant storage space taken up by the Triumph suit, as well.

We headed over Rt 250 to Rt 678, taking it easy because of the wet roads, tendrils of wispy clouds roiling over the mountains into the high valleys as we traversed the Valley and Ridge.  We need a dry day do-over on these roads.  Like many roads in the southern Valley and Ridge Province, these are great motorcycle roads and need to be repeated when we are not slowed by the rain.

At one point we saw a very scruffy looking fox in the middle of the road.  Tim blew on by him but he (the fox) jumped out and tried to attack Dave.  He (the fox again) kind of bounced off the bike, which was moving along at a pretty good clip, rolled ass over tea kettle, picked himself up and headed back into the middle of the road to see if I wanted a piece of him.  I had to swerve to avoid hitting him straight on.  I was reminded of the Black Knight in Monty Python's King Arthur, but I suspect he was just suffering from rabies.  Good thing we were going past too fast for him to catch us.

With temperatures dropping back into the mid-60's in the rain, getting nearer to the end of day with soaked-in damp, I was running some heat.  I perked up on Rt 18 when we started to find stretches of dry road, thinking it would not be so bad to finish up under high clouds with a drying breeze.  Ha! Not to be.  Soon we hit another onslaught of heavy rain.  It just felt like an insult.  Finally on Rt 3 west of Rt 220, the rain ended allowing us a damp, but brightening, end of the day as we headed in to Pipestem State Park Resort, our resting point for Day 1.

Pipestem Resort, with a room overlooking the gorge, was a complete score.  Dave had called ahead for the reservation and got the room for $96.  [Of course he had to claim that I was over 60 to get the senior discount.  I was mortified to think that anyone would believe I am over 60!  Oh wait... 2012, 60 years after 1952...Dang, just 3 more weeks until I really am over 60.]  Room was great, view was OK, restaurant had a great buffet for 15 bucks, there was a warm indoor pool and hot sauna and a balcony in the room.  Sitting on the balcony, bellies full, muscles warmed and relaxed, we watched as the sky cleared and the stars came out, dominated by Venus, the Evening Star.  Does it get any better?

No clear evening photos of the gorge though; the camera was definitely in a bad mood after being faced into the rain at 80 mph approaching Staunton.  Leaving it open to dry overnight helped a lot and Dave suggested a quick lick with the hair drier in the morning which soon set it to rights.  Lesson for the future:  as soon as there is damp in the air, the camera goes in the bag.

DAY 2

In the morning, the Gorge was full of low hanging clouds

We got up on Sunday morning to find the Gorge full of low-hanging clouds.  By 8:15, we were packed up, moved out, and ready to roll.  The sky was overcast and the temperature was in the mid-60's.  On to breakfast at Princeton.

After breakfast, we headed west.  On a previous trip, an old geezer told us "You've got two things in West Virgina, cows and coal.  Cows is on the right and coal is on the left."  Pretty soon it was obvious that we had left cows and headed into coal.

Horizontal rock layers in the Hill and Hollow region

Rt 52 was awesome

As you travel west out of the Valley and Ridge Province, you climb the Appalachian Front, a steep escarpment marking the edge of the Appalachian Plateau.   Running back and forth across the country we know so well, the Front is "that big steep hill" that we keep running into:  I 80 climbs the Front between Stroudsburg and the junction with I 380; I 84 climbs it on the long haul going east out of Milford; the waterfalls in Rickets Glen fall down the Front; and we shall see in Day 3, we dropped down the Front in the Maryland panhandle on the way home.  The Front divides the Valley and Ridge Province from the Appalachian Plateau.  The Valley and Ridge Province is the area strongly deformed by the Appalachian Orogeny, when the collision of continents caused the layers of rock to deform into folds (think I68 road cut at Sideling Hill), often so distorted as to turn the horizontal layers of rock vertical, followed by subsequent erosion of the softer layers (now the valleys) leaving the harder layers (now the ridges).  In contrast, the rock layers of the Appalachian Plateau lie nearly horizontal, as they were deposited, tilted slightly up to the east as the orogeny raised them, terminating on the east at the Front.  Streams cut valleys into the plateau, giving the appearance of mountains.  But in truth, while the Valley and Ridge Province are true mountains, deformed and raise up by continental collision, the hills and hollows to the west are valleys cut into a fairly level plateau by erosion.

They've got the best model train layouts in West Virginia

So, what we found in West Virginia was:  East - cows, tilted rock planes in road cuts, twisty roads; West - coal, horizontal rock planes in road cuts, twisty roads.  The common theme is why we keep coming back.

Rt 52 following the Guyandotte River Valley was awesome.  Around mid-day, the sun had come out, temp was up to 75, and we found ourselves gassing up and asking for directions at the Danville Go-Mart:

Coal Breakers up Rt 85 from Madison

"Can you tell us how to get to Rt 3?", Tim asked the man behind the counter.

"Well where do you ultimately want to get to?", the man asked.

"Beckley."

"Well, the quickest way to Beckley..."

"No, No, We don't want the quickest way, we want the way that is the most fun.  Twisties."

"Send them over by way of Van," said the girl at the next register.

Stopped at the top on Rt 99

"Van?", said the man.  "Can you get to Beckley by Van?"

"Yes, and that's where the roads are twisty," said the girl.

"Well, OK.  Go out this road to the right and when it forks at Madison, take the left past another Go-Mart and just keep going.  You'll be going up into God's country and you'll hear banjo music, so don't stop, if you know what I mean."

View from the top on Rt 99

Off we went, left fork at Madison, "Gateway to Coal Country" by the sign, past the Go-Mart, and up Rt 85 into the mountains, past modern day coal breakers witness to the sign's promise, then near the top, left on Rt 99 East, following the sign to Beckley.

Dave leaning through a curve coming down Rt 99

Altitude on Rt 99 peaked at 3459 ft, then dropped, twisting and turning the whole way down into the valley.  We got to the bottom and stopped, then realized that we had failed to stop for photos at the scenic overlook at the top.  Our usual "no-back-tracking" rule notwithstanding, we headed back to the top, took some token photos (including a set up shot of Dave riding thru a corner towards us), then ran the downhill leg a second time, this time with no other traffic intervening.  By consensus, this was the best piece of road on the trip.  So, a gold star to Ashley at the Danville Go-Mart for knowing what we meant by "twisties" and knowing where to find them. 

The downhill leg

The Greenbriar Restaurant and Lodge in Marlinton

Another 4 hours and 140 miles of excellent West Virginia roads heading generally east in a very wandering sort of way brought us past new baby angus calves in the fields - from coal back to cows - and eventually landed us along the Greenbriar River in Marlinton at the Greenbriar Restaurant and Lodge for the night.  Dinner was on the deck overlooking the river.  The restaurant was "dry" but a walk across the bridge to the local convenience store bagged us a couple of 24 oz cans of Dr. Yuengling's Evening Elixir which stood us in good stead for the night.  We chatted with two other bikers who rolled in for dinner and a couple of well splattered dual sport bikes (KTM 950 and a Suzuki V Strom) on their way home to Charleston.  Both bikes were sporting bumper stickers from Rella's Cafe, so we inquired, figuring if two guys were willing to disfigure their bikes over it, it must be worth a look.  "Rt 20 just outside of Hacker Valley; don't let the appearance fool you; the pie is to die for."  Well Hacker Valley is a little too far out of the way for this trip, but we'll definitely have to put that on the list for next time.

Dinner was on the deck overlooking the Greenbriar River

DAY 3

Heading up into the Low Hanging Clouds Over the Highlands

Day 3 started with a short backtrack up Rt 219 to reach the Highlands Scenic Byway.  Heading up into the mountains we were facing low hanging clouds.  Between 3800 ft and 4300 ft we were basically riding through thick cotton wool.  Either that or the great State of West Virginia was saving money by turning off the scenic views on the byways except on weekends.

Heading back down to the valley, we found cleared skies and warming temperatures.  We soon pulled into the local for breakfast:  nondescript sign out front, three tables, two occupied by locals eating bowls of country country gravy for breakfast.  Country gravy and biscuits, which seemed to be the house specialty, along with a pretty good cup of coffee, soon set a foundation for the day.

Scenic views turned off during weekdays as a state-wide cost saving effort

The remainder of the morning was a long run to the northeast on US 219, twisting and turning up the backbone  of the state, finally crossing over into the western end of the Maryland panhandle near Oakland, where we turned east on MD 135.  Around 12:30, we got caught in a fierce rain squall which forced us to stop in the open to gear up, basically climbing already slightly wet into gear while being pelted by huge raindrops at a fierce rate.  Camera back in the bag, of course, so end of pictures for the day. 

Back in the valley, the sky cleared

Riding out from the gear up, visibility was very limited due to rain on face shields and massive road spray.  Not so limited that we could not see the warning signs however:  9% Grade; Trucks Use Lower Gear; Reduced Gear Zone; Warning! 10 MPH Curve in 4 1/2 Miles; Runaway Truck Ramp 1 Mile; All Trucks Stop 1/2 Mile - Test Brakes.....  We were headed down the Appalachian Front, that long steep hill mentioned earlier, in the worst possible visibility condition with roads totally flooded with water.  Sounds onerous, but in fact with cool heads (we went verrrry slowly) and good modern rubber (motorcycle tire technology has come a long way, especially with regard to wet road traction and water clearing) we made it half way down the mountain without incident, at which point the rain stopped, the sky cleared, the roads drained, and we thought we were living in tall cotton.  By the bottom of the hill and that onerous 10 MPH curve, we were starting to dry out and smile again.  Weather sure is fickle in the mountains. 

We soon found our way to I 68 and hit the slab for home, making it there by around 6:00 with nearly 1300 miles on the clock, new tires well scrubbed-in. chicken strips shrunk to near-zero, and smiles on our faces, already thinking about where to head next.