Standing Salem Ride - Wednesday Night

[Suretyagent]

FYI - A few riders from PNWRiders have a standing Salem ride every Wednesday. A couple of us ride VFR's and would like to see more join.

I’ll be riding this Wednesday (9/12/07) and am hoping to see a few more people show up. We meet at 6:15PM at the Circle K on 12th Street (Just north and down the hill from the 12th and Madrona intersection) and leave at 6:30PM.

I think we’ll be riding to Silver Falls starting in Salem and going to Silverton then riding from Silverton up to the falls and then back over to highway 22 – opposite direction from our last couple rides. I’m hoping to talk my fellow riders into eating dinner in Stayton (Ixtapa at 111 West Locust Street - Great Mexican food) before cruising back to Salem.

This is a good group to ride with. Everyone is good natured, cordial and enthusiastic.

Hope to see you there.

Derek

[Suretyagent]

Nine Riders Confirmed for tonight. All riders welcome.

Derek

[Suretyagent]

As has become usually and customary, the 12th Street Gang proved the Salem Standing Wednesday Night Ride to be pleasurable once again. We were down to five riders (only 2 VFRs this time) due to the work commitments of a number of us so unfortunate as to have jobs and were left with a somewhat grizzled bunch of gray leaning semi-distinguished gentlemen, though some small part of the riding was decidedly hooligan in nature.

We assembled at the Circle K by 6:20pm and Matt and I bantered about the ride route for ten minutes as a gaggle of future Gypsy Jokers threatened to run us down with their big wheels and challenging banter. We compromised on a plan and left to idle slowly out of town via Madrona Street till T-ing into Croisan Creek Road where I pulled over and demanded a more experienced rider take the lead out onto River Road so I wouldn’t slow the group. Soon we were on Riverdale and cranking through tight corners where I’m betting the riders of the bigger bikes felt as if muscling full kegs of ale in the back of a moving station wagon. When we met Vita Springs and stopped to re-group one wide-eyed participant exclaimed, “I haven’t ridden like that in a while!”

Vita Springs Road turned immediately into a tunnel of foliage as we sprinted eastwardly in a snaking convoy – a new road for many of us and one that took our slightly accented and IRA affiliated BMW rider back to his hedgerow filled youth. I watched in amazement how my fellow riders negotiated the turn onto Skyline Road and tried unsuccessfully to stay out of the oncoming lane as I worked the friction zone from the 160 degree turn at the up-hill pointed stop sign situated there, appreciative of my patient riding partners who waited before gently opening up their throttles over a series of rollercoaster hills. Past Chinook Estate we encountered a technically challenging section of taut, off camber downhill corners that sent some of us referring back to their dirt-biking history.

At the next major intersection we stopped again and cut engines for a group picture but uncooperative technology left us undocumented in the eyes of posterity – or local law enforcement, depending upon your particular personal concerns, scruples or lack thereof. As I knew the way to the Buena Vista Ferry I took the lead and practiced shifting my weight from one side of the bike to the other through an elegant sequence of 90 degree bends – which led to a significant and prolonged wobble into one of said corners and relatively low exit speed to all of them. Jim, upright, fixed and tall in the saddle behind me, shrugged off the corners at roughly twice my speed and let me accelerate away in the straights so I’d feel like I was riding fast. Approaching the ferry I encountered a swarm of barn swallows that flocked around and past me like a impenetrable cloud of feathers, which I somehow intersected unmarked, if you count not the flying insects said birds where dinning on as dusk descended.

We all survived numerous dirty and slick patches of pavement upon approach to the (closed) ferry and amassed again to take advantage of shared cloth and bug cleaner before heading back towards Independence with the moon chasing us in our mirrors like a giant, gaining GP racer. The night enveloped us into its dark womb and we four remaining rough riders convoyed in two clusters into West Salem. Good pizza and jovial conversation followed as we were met again by my crutches-assisted girlfriend Julia and our brother-in-handlebars Big Justin the Boilermaker who, as always, sported a devilish grin, boyish charm and expounded witty banter with good-natured warmth. All-in-all, another great Wednesday Night Ride!

Looking forward to next time . . .

Derek