COTU ride report (Long)

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I'll start by saying that I had such a great trip.

I rode down to Pat Hoban's house on Friday morning, my wife and daughter
on the front porch waving goodbye as I rode off into he rain. As usual,
I did too much pre-trip work to the bike, and as a result packed too
many tools that I did not need, and as I was too find out later, did not
own some that I did need.

The ride to Pat's was uneventful, although it illustrated that I needed
some advice on the proper use of GPS, which RouteMiester gave to me over
a beer in the parking lot Friday night. Thanks Dave! Well, we left
from Pat's at about 10AM, and after going 50 miles in the first 2 hours
on local roads, we hit the slab, traffic cleared up, and out pace
improved, arriving around 7PM at Cambridge.

Having never been to COTU, I've got to tell you, the roads blew me away.
The land is folded in a seemingly never-ending series of hills and
valleys, like blanket of ocean swells draped over an already rolling
landscape. The roads, as I overheard some other listers discussing,
were laid out during the oil boom at the end of the 19th century, to get
to the different claims. Little grading seems to have been done,
leading to a rollercoaster like ride, as the pavement twists and turns
up and over the land. According to what I have read of the geologic
history of Ohio, the Eastern edge of Ohio was once the East coast of the
North American continent, and that the amazing landscape and topography
we enjoy today are the long eroded Mountains from the collision of two
continents some 900 million or so years ago, along a 3000 mile border
extending from Mexico to Sweden. Here is more info:

http://www.ohiodnr.com/geosurvey/geo_fact/geo_f13.htm
http://instruct.uwo.ca/earth-sci/300b-001/rodkarl2b.jpg
http://instruct.uwo.ca/earth-sci/300b-001/grenv.htm


Greg, Pat and I were joined by Richard and Ed on Saturday morning, and
off we went. The days itinerary was amazing: Greg laid out a route which
crossed itself more than a few times, staying within the triangle
defined by Cambridge, Salem and Parkersburg. Here is the list as Greg
mailed it (I hope you don't mind Greg!):

####### begin route #######

Route approximate mileage
209 S 1
660 W 10
313 W 10
146 W 10
72 S/W (Dietz rd) just past 2nd 146 junction w/73 3
60 N 1
550 S 60 (This is 555, not 550 (LS))
US 50 E 1
339 N 22
60 N/W 2
83 N 14
78 W 30
13 N 20
37 E 17
669 N 8
2 N 12
60 S 5
376 S 4
340 E 15
821 N 20
209 N 2

I found this site with some description and ratings of some the roads
Greg selected (they are all 4 or 5 star roads!)

http://motorcycleroads.com/routes/Mi...OH_index.shtml


####### end route ########

Greg and Richard took turns in the lead, and the day was without a doubt
one of my best on a motorcycle. I think we did about 300 miles for the
day, and I spent about 200 of it behind Richard, who is a joy to watch
ride. We had a roadside debate in the afternoon about listening to
music on a ride. We had just passed through a very tight uphill section
that crested a large hill which opened up to long straight downward
sloping ridge, with fields on either side exposing a beautiful vista.
In the near distance, the road ended in a right-hand sweeper about half
a mile to a mile away. Carol King's "where you lead" had come on in the
twisties, and I hit the crest of the hill with the chorus, behind
Richard at about 65 mph as we headed down the ridge:

"
......
Where you lead
I will follow
anywhere
that you tell me to
.....
repeat
.....
I'm gonna follow where you lead
I'm gonna follow where you lead
"

It was perfection. Not sure what road, either 78 or 339 I think. A
great day.

I would jump to the beers in the parking lot at this point but it would
be unfair of me not to mention the lesson I learned about using the
mirror as a helmet holder while moving the bike from the gas pump to the
parking area, and then not being sure the kickstand is actually down
before trying to quickly pick it up after it bounced of the pavement.
Nuff' said.


Back to the hotel at about 6:30, with beers in the parking lot, some
good BS with the group and Dinner at Ruby Tuesdays. We had a nice toast
to remember Alan. I played with Mike's (last name? sorry)) son Lucas,
who, according to Marc, was apparently severely traumatized by Lou a few
years ago, but is now well on the road to recovery. He now wants to
design and build robots, and I have no doubt he will do it.

The hotel and restaurant were both great I think. Really nice people.

Pat and I left the next morning at 9, and made great time for I'd guess
the first 40 miles. We rode with the traffic, which was moving about 85
to 90 mph. We hit the first traffic on 470, Pat and I lane split for
a few miles to get out of the mess, and came up on an overturned truck
at the intersection of Rt 7 and 470 by the Ohio river.

We were flying again, and then after lunch in Carlisle (I think?), we
were running fine until we hit a huge traffic jam due to construction on
78, just past the I-81/I-78 split. Traffic is basically stopped, so
more lane splitting and riding on the shoulder to get through. We
finally get to the head after about 3 miles of traffic. Those people
must have spent hours sitting there.

About 20 miles on, the front started to seem a little vague. Whenever I
accelerated, I would get a weave from the front. I told Pat I needed to
pull over, and We hit the next exit. As I slowed, I could tell the
problem was the rear and not the front. My first flat. I pulled in
front, he confirmed the rear. The first gas station off the exit was
boarded up, so we tried to continue on, but in about one half a mile, I
told Pat I had to pull over, and we did.

As I mentioned at the beginning, I had done a bunch of work to the bike,
and brought a ton (20lbs) of tools, but I did not bring a tire patch
kit, nor a compressor. Having never had a flat, it was outside my frame
of experience. This combined with my innate desire to learn everything
in life the hard way would have, had I been riding solo, effectively
stranded me. Luckily, Pat had the remnants of a kit he had bought nine
years previously, which he uses to patch the tires on his tractor.
Entrusted with the kit, some smokes, and Pat's misguided belief that I
know what I doing and some parting words of encouragement, he set off to
get some form of air/fix-a-flat, while I was to patch the tire.

There was no reamer in the kit, and it said to use the plug insert tool
to ream the hole, then put the plug in. Pats kit had 2 full length worms
(?) and 2 shorties. It starts to rain and the wind picks up and I,
start cleaning the tire and looking for the puncture. I find it at the
head of one of the grooves, and a needle nose removes a headless nail
about 1.5 inches long. After reaming the tire and slopping some glue
in, I deduce by looking on the pictures on the back of the 9 year old
piece of paper, whose words were blurred by anxiety, that I should place
the insertion tool in the middle of the worm. With about 5 or 6 lbs of
pressure in the tire, I had to use a ton of force to get the worm though
the belts. Pop! One worm lost in the tire. Another smoke to dispel the
frustration, and my eyes can now discern the 2/3,1/3 written
description, which does not match the picture on the cardboard. RTMF.
Pop, patch successful with the other full worm. Pat is back with the
fix-a-flat, and we put in both cans, spin the tire, and off we go to the
Gas station up the road. I am so hot, there is no anti fog measure that
works, so the visor well cracked to relieve the steam exhausting from my
jacket.

We get to the gas station about 2 miles up the road, and pump it up to
45 lbs. We can hear it hissing, and as we spin the tire, the fix-a-flat
milk starts to flow over the pavement. We have another puncture. For a
reformed smoker, I am a chimney at this point (Have to get Pat to quit
if I am going to keep riding with him!). Pat reams the second puncture,
and has to use so much force to break through the carcass of the tire
that I hold the front of the bike. Pop, he is through, and then more
effort to put in the shortie. It goes in, but not as well as one would
like, and Pat's spit leak test reveals bubbling. We are on 22, which Pat
decides we should take north to 512, then to 80, at which point we will
be about 25 miles from his house. So, 50 miles in all. We can stop at
gas stations as needed, and make it to his house. Nonchalantly, Pat
says I can leave my bike at his house, take his bike home, ship him a
tire, which he will get mounted for me, and that I'll ride down and swap
the bikes back when the work is done. I am floored by his generosity.
Still am.

We pump it up to 45 and set off. For the 25 miles of 512, all feels
fine. We forgo stopping for more air before getting on 80E, a mistake I
know, but we were in the short strokes, 25 miles to go, and we can both
feel it.

I make it about 10 miles on 80 before the tire is down to its standard 6
or so lbs. Off we go, to a gas station on the side of a steep hill at
the bottom of a corkscrew exit. Nice. It has 3 lbs of air in. As I
remember it, in the drama of the moment, I say to Pat something like:

Larry: "You maybe haven't been keeping up on current events but we just
got our
asses kicked, pal! Flat in 10 miles!"

We pump up the tire to 45lbs again, and it is hissing louder than ever!

Larry, now in full Hudson mode says:
"Well that's great, that's just *uckin' great man. Now what the
*uck are we
supposed to do? We're in some real pretty *hit now man... That's
it man, game
over man, game over! What the *uck are we gonna do now? What are
we gonna do?"

Pat, in his best Ripley, replies:
"*uck it! Larry, Listen to me! Pump it up, get on the bike! We
are 10 miles
from my house! Just deal with it because your wife needs you and
I'm sick of your
bullshit. Lets go!"

*I later find out we actually like 15 miles away, and he is lying to me.

**And the dialogue was much calmer, we were laughing about it at this
point, and had been all along, but this makes a nice addition to the
story.

I make it 10 more miles, and pull over at a Shell station is his town.
3 lbs again. Up to 45 again, sans the movie dialogue, and We arrive
"Left, Home" according to Pat's GPS, 3 or so miles later and flat for
the 5th time.

Meet Susanne the beautiful wife (how did that happen?? She does wear
glasses, that might explain something...) and the kids, who jump all
over Dad, so excited are they that he is home. All good, and I can't
wait to come down with Marlene and Jackie for a weekend ride & BBQ (PS:
I have Jackie for the next three weekends, so let me know)

Off to Wal-Mart, and the shopping list is fulfilled with 2 cigarette
lighter operated portable compressors, a "T" handle tire reamer and
separate plug pusher inner, 2 tubes of glue, and 6 strips of worms.
Overkill?? You betcha!

I give Pat half the worms, one of the compressors, and one of the tubes
of glue for his head, so to speak. The worms won't help without the
air, so if you are solo, you need both. I patch and pump. She holds for
5 or so minuets. It's time to go home.

Now I have been calling my wife at each stop as the saga has unfolded,
and she is now at my Dad's for dinner. When I call her to tell her I am
going to be on my way home, she does not sound her normal, motorcycling
supportive self. More subdued, quiet. Apparently my Father is letting
her know, as only a 73 year old can when powered buy 2 double Absolutes,
in no uncertain terms, that he is going to let me know, in no uncertain
terms, what he thinks of my motorcycle, and what I can do with it. I
get to deal with that tonight when I go to dinner. Double Nice. If I
don't make to WDGAH, it will be because I could not get my bike started
after the hospital ER staff surgically removes from my ass. What do you
use for that, anyway, Sea foam or Techron?

Give Pat a hug for being the most stand up guy in the Universe, and I'm
off. Gas up, pressure holding, let's go. I mile down on 80e and I run
over some road kill I don't see, and nearly loose the rear as it steps
out about a foot or so to the left, and the front gives a strong shake.
Tired and now tentative is not a good combo. Trust builds in the tire
over the next 20 miles though, and by 287N, I am myself again.

Tire feels ok, I am going about 65. It is pitch black, with clouds
covering the moon thoroughly. Looks like serious rain, but it just does
not break. Not a single light on the road. If I did develop another flat
now, I doubt my little BS mini-mag light with the 2 or 3 year old
batteries would give me enough light to make good use of my super new
tire tools. And even if I had the light, I might benefit from some
flares or other roadside markers to let these cars, that are driving
erratically along in the deep dark night a 90 mph, with their drivers
tired as me, know that I was working with my new tire tools on my 6th
flat of the day on my new Michelin Pilot Road 2CT tire in the deep dark
night with the cigarette adaptor powered work light that I'm going to by
at Wal-Mart this week.

Make it to the Tappan Zee, through the toll, and on to 287E, which is a
crappy road on any vehicle, and especially so now. On to the Merritt
Parkway. On the on ramp to the Merritt, which I take very slowly, I
think I can feel some squish returning. Probably the construction on
287. Too dark to stop, and I know what it feels like when its too low
to ride now. I continue on, the tire getting slowly softer as I go. It
is a race: The tire against my combined desire to get home and not
fumble around with the tire again, from which I subtract the knowledge
that I could really be screwed if I mis-judge how full it is.

I make it home, and I have my 6 lbs of pressure.

The next morning I take a good look at the tire. It is worn across the
entire contact area, save about a half inch on each edge, as if it had
been used at a track day. The chicken strips are a little proud of the
adjacent tread, which speaks to the amount of wear, but there is still
plenty of depth to the tread. I am surprised at the amount of abuse it
took, with seemingly little damage, but I think I will hang this one up
and get another 2Ct rear. These tire were great on Saturday by the way.
I don't think I pushed them as hard as some others might, but they never
lost their grip, which I have experienced with both my Diablo's and the
Dunlop 208s, and they gave excellent feedback.


It's not surprising, I think now, that when I come home from these
events, and think about what great fun it is to ride with a good group
and then talk motorcycles and roads, tools and technique over a few
refreshments, I find that I count myself lucky that by joining the VFR
list, I have been brought into contact with a truly special group of
people that remain in my memory and make these events so special.

I'll finish by saying that I had a great trip!

Pat, Marlene sends her thanks for thanks for getting me home. We'll see
you soon.


Larry



PS: Please Pardon any typos, etc.






....
.____.
. . . .. __ .. Larry Sherman
. \../ .
. . /~~\ . .
. ~~~ \__/ . . . m.larry.sherman@xxxxxx
. / , .\. .. . larry.sherman@xxxxxx
. /_ / . .~ . w: (203) 618-2515
// '/ . . . h&c: (203) 253-4017
// // . .. .
'/ /, . . Honda VTEC VFR
/ / ... Two Wheels Good, Four Wheels Bad
_`_/ _ _

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Nice write up Larry. Pat was bitching about the
brevity of my post, but I didn't have nearly the
amount of exciting things to report as you did. Glad
you survived the tire experience intact.

Cheers,
Greg



____________________________________________________________________________________Be a better Globetrotter. Get better travel answers from someone who knows. Yahoo! Answers - Check it out.
http://answers.yahoo.com/dir/?link=list&sid=396545469
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Larry, great post.

Very entertaining, you had me laughing along. I can just see you two
along the side of the road dealing with this! You probably will not have
any more flats. Like carrying an umbrella to ward off rain, having the
compressor and plugs seems to help keep away the nails!

And for the record, it was *my* kids that were traumatized by Lou,
during an intense spitball fight at the restaurant, I think it was WDGAH
6. Or maybe it was Lou that was traumatized by my kids -- after all, he
was the one who fled the East coast, settled down, and got hitched! Must
have had some impact!

Great times seeing everyone,

Marc

--------------------------

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I'll start by saying that I had such a great trip.


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Wow, Larry! That ride report was truly epic - from the Precambriam to COTU
8. After that, who could possibly posit that moto riding is not one of the
essential components of universal enlightenment? Certainly not I as I seek
fulfilment in the lean angle. The tribulations of tire failure only serve
to secure the experience in our memories, not diminish it. Makes for great
story telling, too.

Well done!

See you at WDGAH.

Richard Ronay
Southern Maryland
'90 VFR Still gripping tightly with mis-matched tires



----- Original Message -----
From: "Sherman, Larry, GCM"
To:
Cc: "Wilcox, Charles, GCM" ; "Marlene Russell"

Sent: Tuesday, May 22, 2007 10:44 AM
Subject: COTU ride report (Long)


>
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>
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>
> I'll start by saying that I had such a great trip.



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Brinker,

How are your little "convicts of tomorrow"???
As noted, thanks to them I learned I wasn't such a bad-ass after all.
Civilian life treating me good - only if I could find the time to ride my RC it'd be great...

Glad y'all had a good time @ COTU. Some of my fondest memories stem from COTU's (and WDGAH's) past...

Lou
SF, CA

-------------- Original message --------------
From: "Marc Brinker"

> Larry, great post.
>
> Very entertaining, you had me laughing along. I can just see you two
> along the side of the road dealing with this! You probably will not have
> any more flats. Like carrying an umbrella to ward off rain, having the
> compressor and plugs seems to help keep away the nails!
>
> And for the record, it was *my* kids that were traumatized by Lou,
> during an intense spitball fight at the restaurant, I think it was WDGAH
> 6. Or maybe it was Lou that was traumatized by my kids -- after all, he
> was the one who fled the East coast, settled down, and got hitched! Must
> have had some impact!
>
> Great times seeing everyone,
>
> Marc
>
>
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On 5/22/07, Sherman, Larry, GCM wrote:
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> I'll start by saying that I had such a great trip.



Epic report, Larry! Mirrors the fun challenges of my COTU's past. Hope to
make another some day.

Nate

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Thanks Nate, good to hear from you!!! Hope you and the family are well!

-----Original Message-----
From: Nate in N.E. [mailto:ninelist@xxxxxx]
Sent: Wednesday, May 23, 2007 2:02 PM
To: Sherman, Larry, GCM
Cc: vfr@xxxxxx
Subject: Re: COTU ride report (Long)




On 5/22/07, Sherman, Larry, GCM wrote:



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I'll start by saying that I had such a great trip.



Epic report, Larry! Mirrors the fun challenges of my COTU's
past. Hope to make another some day.

Nate







-----------------------------------------
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As this e-mail may contain confidential or privileged information,
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it.

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Hey, wait a minute. Guido and I started that spitball fight, I believe at
WDGAH 7

:~)


Chris Burdett


With an Amazing Wife . . . and a Bimota SB6 . . . and most recently a
beautiful 1974 BMW R90/6, but (sadly) no longer Gold Wing 1800A or "a '98 VFR with
more shit on it than you can shake a stick at . . . "




************************************** See what's free at http://www.aol.com.

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yeah, but Brink's kids kicked our asses...

Lou
SF, CA
p.s. how are you old man?
-------------- Original message --------------
From: VFRESQ@xxxxxx

Hey, wait a minute. Guido and I started that spitball fight, I believe at WDGAH 7

:~)

Chris Burdett
With an Amazing Wife . . . and a Bimota SB6 . . . and most recently a beautiful 1974 BMW R90/6, but (sadly) no longer Gold Wing 1800A or "a '98 VFR with more shit on it than you can shake a stick at . . . "
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