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It did snow. A little. And it was definitely cold.
I got home about an hour ago and stood in the shower until now. But it
didn't rain (much)!
Seven
intrepid bikers and their supporting cast left Toronto at 9:30am on
Saturday and returned around 10pm on Sunday.
In between, here's what we did:
- We rode the back roads from Toronto through
Trenton to Picton, had a late lunch there, then took the ferry over and
continued up 33 into Kingston. The "highlight" of this trip was the 10km
of Grrrreeeeaasssy Gravel at the East end of the ferry that no one told
us about. The weather forecast had been for rain. What we got was
glorious blue skies and sunshine, but cool temperatures.
- We arrived at the motel in Kingston and checked
in. Some took a quick shower (others didn't. Phew!) and we headed by car
into town to meet Paul King, a local VROC friend at a wonderful
restaurant called Cafe Max, where we enjoyed a gourmet meal at
reasonable prices.
- Some people went out afterward, some didn't. I
was a "didn't" so I don't know what the "did's" did.
- We arose in the morning to another clear, sunny
crisp day. To say the least. There was frost on the bikes. The Weather
Network said something about 1 degree, and used the "wind-chill" word.
When we started the bikes for the trip to Smitty's for brekkie (Great
brekkie, BTW), Stick's bike wouldn't start. Mumbles to the rescue -- a
battery refilled with water and off we went.
- Paul met us for brekkie, then led us out to
Desert Lake Road. Duke did not join us (more on him later) because he
was staying with his grandfolks in Kingston and he had to do some stuff
for them. 176 turns in 24 km. Just a wee bit of gravel, in about 3
corners. The "highlight" was the dog (looked like a collie/golden
retriever cross to me -- just being friendly) that came out of a
driveway and literally stood in Bugsy's way, completely blocking him. He
had to come to a dead stop to prevent running the dog down. Surfer said
he got 3 feet of air off one spot. I certainly rose to the occasion on
one or two bumps as well. I didn't know a Vulcan could leave the ground
like that. Or that I could leave a seat...
BTW on a more sobering note, my ageing rear tire, which
started the trip coming up on "needing replacement" slid sideways on about
5 or 6 occasions, the worst of which occurred as we left the Tim Horton's
at White's Road on the way home, almost putting me on the pavement. The
next trip Trigger takes out of my garage is to Robbie's for a new shoe.
Cold, bald rubber is not a good idea. Same to you, Surf, who made his
passengers stand out on the 401 for an hour waiting for CAA.
Tsk.
-
After Desert Lake Road, we went up Perth Road 10. Long, smooth,
high-speed turns. BTW, the leaves were awesome. Some spots, the colours were
so bright you really needed sunglasses to look at them. Paul took us to an
old mill that had been converted to a private residence. This
was probably the trip highlight. The owner (Paul and I had met him once a few
months ago when I did the same trip), whose name is Barry Brown, is
a collector of antique motorcycles. An a million other things. He took us
into his barn or storage shed, whatever you would call it, where there was
an awesome collection of old motorcycle parts, and other items like a beautiful
1927 McLaughlin Limousine (perfect interior, outside needed paint --
Stylz, your dad would want to see this!), an original lighthouse light
dating back from the beginning of the last century, a BMW sidecar from
WWII, complete with MG-34 maching gun, motors, tools,
incredible.
Because we were bikers, Barry
allowed us into his home. This had to be the most comfortable, warmest,
country renovation that certainly I had ever seen. We were privileged.
Upstairs, he has enough motorcycle memorabilia to fill a nuseum. BTW, the
Ottawa Museum of Science and Technology's motorcycle exhibit was due to
Barry. The piece de resistance was the antique motorcycle collection
I'll let others describe this, but there were bikes there -- functioning bikes
-- dating back to the turn of the 20th century.
- From there we headed for a well-known olde
Englishe pub in Westport which turned out to be too busy to serve us. So
we went across the street for a home-made ice cream (just the thing when
you're riding at the freezing point) and kicked off the long trip home.
Nice road from Westport to Maberly, BTW. And riding DIRECTLY into the
setting sun was fun too. Everyone was cold. Very cold. Full rainsuits
over leather over fleece, wasn't enough. Some 8 or 9 hours later, with
several fuel and food and COFFEE stops, we arrived at home.
If you missed this trip, you missed a good one. If you were there, well
you know what I'm talking about. 736 Km.
The cast:
Riders were BT, Mumbles, the Duke (new nickname for
Ducati Mark), Rebel (pronounced ReeBel), Bugsy, StickBoy and Yours
Truly.
Passengers were Angel
and Tweety (new Nickname for Stephanie). (We were on a nick-naming spree.
Sheriff, please note these. Teach was also re-named "Roses", as in "Guns
'n Roses". BT wanted to be called "Gadget", or "The biker formerly known
as BT" but we vetoed it. Several other suggestions didn't make it. You
know, we should have "nicknaming ceremonies". ) Rebel's son Michael (it
figgers) rode on the back of Paul's bike through the Desert Lake
Twisties.
Supporting cast:
Surfer, Sporty and AlBaby with their cages and cageriders Twubl, Roses and
Tiffany. Not to forget Paul King who guided our group of frozen popsicles (in my case, a
grand-pop-sickle).
Article: Gunslinger
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