North America: Riding a 21 year old Goldwing: 53 - Charlottesville, West Virginia, The 1940's Panheads, and State #40

Timing was perfect as I rolled into Charlottesville. My buddies had just arrived, so I grabbed some clean clothes (did laundry in Asheville) and we hit the road.

Before long, we were at our old stomping grounds, visiting our alma mater and acting our age (did I mention the fourth-dimensional time warp?)

My buddies had followed the blog and were curious to hear the extended version of some of the stories. After all, five months can't be adequately condensed into 50 blog posts.

After a night in town seeing old friends, we woke up to re-live an old tradition. Seeing The University of Virginia Cavaliers play football at Scott Stadium.

What a glorious day!

The pictures of us from Camp Wahoo, the coolest Cavalier tailgate, aren't going to make it on the blog. Let's just say that I haven't lost my beer-bonging touch, and leave it at that. It's like riding a bike.

FYI: The picture to the left and the four below were taken with an I-phone.

After two fun-filled nights in Cavalier Land, the guys headed off to catch a plane to their respective towns, and I hopped on my motorcycle to visit a 40th state.

While at a coffee shop in Rome, GA, I'd recounted the number of states visited on this trip and realized I was only at 39. Florida, Ohio and Delaware were the only viable candidates. After my Christmas trip to the Keys a few months earlier, I had no interest in going to Florida. Plus, I just ridden GA, AL, MS etc. Delaware involved DC which entails traffic. Time to route to Ohio. Via WVA of course, one of my favorite states. I tooled through the Wild and Wonderful West Virginia mountains, and enjoyed spectacular scenery.

While riding one particularly remote road, I saw two old Panheads and had to stop. After visiting The Wheels Through Time Museum in Maggie Valley, NC during the first weeks of my trip, I'd been fascinated with '47 Pans. I'd met a guy at the Evel Knievel Days in Butte Montana who rode a '74 Shovel (another classic I really like,) but I'd not met anyone riding Panheads on my trip. I'd met Brother Harry who rode with Panhead Bill, but I didn't meet Bill or see his 1960 Pan.

When I pulled up, I got giddy when I saw Massachusetts tags on the bike. These guys really rode! They were in the middle of a conversation with another gawkier, so I didn't interpret. They must get bombarded by curious onlookers at every stop. Even after talking with someone else for over 15 minutes, they were still willing to talk to me and hear about my over-loaded Old-Wing that was parked next to their timeless machines.

Dell & Joe introduced themselves and told me about their bikes and their trip.

The red springer is a '48 and the white hydroglide is a '49. Both Panheads are in great shape. The guys knew the proprietors over at the Wheels Through Time Museum. They'd been riding for nearly a week and were taking the old machines on routes similar to mine, though at much slower speeds. They stuck to two-lane mountain roads.

Below, Dell is describing the timing adjusting mechanism on his Springer. These guys run 9 to 12 pounds of air in the tires. Front and rear tires have low pressure to improve comfort. The bikes are rigid, which means no rear suspension. The springs beneath the seat do a good job of making their long days comfortable.

Meeting Joe & Dell really made my day and allowed me to check something else off my list. I'd not met anyone riding old bikes during my entire 30,000 miles and 39 states. Wow!

Check out the Atlas strapped to the back of Dell's bike! You know someone is really out for a ride when they've got an entire United States Atlas as opposed to a county or state map.

Though the Appalachians aren't nearly as tall as the Rockies, they start at sea level, where many Western Mountain towns are a mile above sea level before the mountains begin their skyward landscape. 3,000 - 4,000 foot elevations in the Appalachians are very impressive. Mountains indeed.

After saying goodbye to the guys and their vintage machines, I headed toward Elkins WVA. I'd broken down there earlier in my trip, and wanted to swing back by and say hi.

After 300 miles of tiny mountain roads, I crossed the Ohio River and set up my tent just before dark.

In the morning, I went back through WVA via a different, but equally obscure route.

Somewhere around 2:00 or 3:00, I saw the sign and had to stop. I was staving! My first meal of the day was a fried hotdog and bottle of Bud.

Delicious. I also met some cool characters. If you're ever in West Virginia, be sure to see if the East Run Band is playing nearby.

I left the Up South Tavern and continued on.

I've paddled the Maury River and have met Rick Mast. The Maury is beautiful and is near the Appalachian Trail. Rick Mast was a NASCAR legend, before the staggering affects of Carbon Monoxide poisoning forced him into early retirement. He's a good man and a close friend of my former employer. Here's a good article on Rick if you're interested.

I hopped on the Blue Ridge Parkway as I'd decided to end my trip as it began. This was to be my last night in my tent, as the next night was spent with a buddy in Blacksburg. The photo below was the last taken with my camera. Afterwards, it stopped working. I'm still quite bummed about that.

In the morning, I broke camp before dawn (yea, I guerilla camped.)

After a few hours on the Parkway, I rode to Christiansburg and found a Wal-Mart and stopped in to get supplies. Then I found a garage where I could change my oil in the parking lot. It had been too long. It took fewer than twenty minutes to change the motor oil and gear oil. The only hard part was going to Wal-Mart. After so many months on the road and sticking to remote areas, the huge parking lots and long row of registers seemed oddly strange.

Afterwards, my sister Susanna and I met at her place and walked to a restaurant for lunch. She and her roommates live in a cool old house. Susanna & I said goodbye and I rode off with 18 hours to go before the trip officially ended.