Rides and Rallies
Originally Published in Southeastern Rider Magazine, June 2017
“All I need to do is get there, and then just follow someone else.” That was my reason for going to Rallies when I first started going. I loved the idea that I just needed to get there and when the event was over, I just need to find my way back home. While I was there, all I had to do was follow a leader, and enjoy the schedule of activities.
Some of my best two wheel travels have been those going to and from a rally or a gathering. I felt free to really plan a good journey to the event, because once I was there, I could turn off the navigator in me, and turn on the sight seer.
My first long trip was from Indianapolis, Indiana to Knoxville, Tennessee. I was riding this distance for two reasons – the Honda Hoot and Cruiser Club, USA’s annual get together called Gathering of Eagles, or GOE. I took a full day to make the nearly 400 mile trip all on backroads through the Hoosier Hills, Kentucky and finally the Volunteer State. I was traveling alone, and there were points on the trip I didn’t see any other traffic for long stretches. I had to wonder if the worst happened, how long would I, and my 1985 Honda Shadow VT700, be lying in a ditch before I was noticed?
The way home, I had company. “Shooter” Jim accompanied me along the backroads home. Being my first long trip like this, I pretty much returned on the reverse of my route. It was comforting to have someone along for the ride. We rode well together, including getting along during stops, as we had ridden together on several day trips with our Cruiser Club Chapter. The following year, GOE would break away from The Hoot, standing on its own in Farmville, Virginia. My brother joined me as we used The National Road, also known as US-40, to head east, and then Skyline Drive and the Blue Ridge to get most of the rest of the way to Farmville, Virginia.
A couple of years later, GOE would be in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and my brother and I were ready to make an epic voyage out of it. I took off early in the morning headed north to meet my brother in Fort Wayne, Indiana. From there, we continued north, through Detroit and made our way through customs in Canada. After a stop in Rodney, Ontario, we found our hotel in Toronto. We continued through the Great White North through the city of Montreal, and spent one final night in Sherbrook, Quebec. This wass deep in French Speaking Territory. I had brushed up on some French to at least get us into a hotel room and dinner at a restaurant, but fortunately we ran into enough English speakers to get by.
This was back in 2004, and I had heard many tell me that in Michael Moore’s “Bowling for Columbine” he reported how Canadians don’t lock their doors because they don’t have the threat from fire arms. I was amazed as we rolled into town on a Sunday afternoon to all the businesses closed, behind bars and metal doors. We were even warned on the street, not leave anything on our motorcycles because it would be stolen. My concern heightened as we rounded to the back of the hotel, which was sandwiched between two sex shops, and we pulled into the parking lot. The area was littered with more condoms than go bad every year in the wallets of hopeful high school boys. The next morning our bikes looked untouched, so I took off on my Honda Shadow Sabre, firm in the belief she was still a virgin. We finished the trip two days later after passing through nearly all the New England States and the Big Apple.
My brother and I tried to make all the trips to GOE the one great motorcycle trip of the year. Even when our own Indianapolis Chapter hosted the event, I made a detour through Columbus, Indiana to direct a worldwide satellite broadcast for Cummins Engines. Normally a trip across the circle city was about 20 some miles, but this trip ended up being more than 150 miles.
While nearly all my trips to GOE’s were great, some of the trips after the event were pretty epic
themselves. Again, after our cruiser brothers and sisters held the rally in the City of Brotherly Love, I and my favorite riding partner, Kasey, headed south to Jacksonville, Florida. One of the overnight stops was at an old college friend’s home, another in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.
Jacksonville, Florida was not the end of the trip, however. We still needed to make it back home again to Indiana. The cruise would take us through Blood Mountain, the Cherohala Skyway, and The Dragon’s Tail at Deal’s Gap, all in one day! I thought the steering bearings in my Honda VTX 1800c might get too hot and seize.
Gathering of Eagles was not the only rally I attended. Mixed in there along the way were a couple of trips to the Honda Homecoming in the neighboring buckeye state. This was a gathering, mostly for Honda Owners, at the Marysville, Ohio Plant. They were still building motorcycles at that location at the time. Both of these trips I rode alone. The first time I went, I stayed in a hotel not far from the very first Wendy’s Hamburger Joint. The second time, I stayed at a make shift hostel, friends from an online Shadow Sabre Owners Group opened up their home for several of us. With the Homecoming, I still had to figure out some things for myself, but there were plenty of opportunities to just follow the crowd. Coming back, on an Indiana backroad, I crossed a small creek with a cloud of bugs hanging over. The group of bugs was so thick; I had to ease into the throttle to avoid losing speed!
Another gathering that became a yearly event, and the source for some epic journeys, was something called The Soup Run. Every year, on the Saturday after Memorial Day, a guy known as Mr. Soup, would invite online motorcycle friends to his home to have soup, a brat and/or a burger. So once I was there, it didn’t involve any additional riding, but I do like eating good food. My first trip was pretty much straight up, with a bulge in the line to avert Chicago. The return was pretty much the same route. I did do a stint on Route 66, and through Joliet, Illinois. Later trips would see my arc around Chicago grow further westward.
I enjoyed the event, and sang it praises so much that I had others interested in joining me, or so I thought. One year I wanted to make a real trip of it, so I was setting out to go up through Michigan, cross into Upper Michigan, and through Pictured Rocks National Park. I had several others interested in joining me until the date drew closer. I ended up making the journey on my own, all 1250 miles of it. After Pictured Rocks, I came down passed halfway to the equator, 45 degrees north latitude, and Lambeau Field. The morning of the dinner I rode Door County, and then down to Fon-Du-Lac for my bowl of soup.
There ended up being ten versions of The Soup Run, and I made the last six of them. I also got some company on a few of those trips. My brother and his wife joined me for Soup Run IX, and a bunch of guys, and my favorite riding partner gal pal made it with me to the tenth and final run. These first timers were often curious about how this event worked. I had developed a tradition. I would get plain brat and bowl of beer cheese soup, and dip the brat and bun into the liquid concoction. Later, I would find out the other guys were spreading this around the crowd, describing it as “The Rodney”.
All of these miles of memories have proven to me that isn’t always about the destination, but that the journey matters, and can be the most important part of the trip. I started with a quote of mine, so I will leave you with one, “It’s all about the route.”
To read more of my motorcycle stories, including expanded stories of the trips mentioned above, you can check out my Motorcycle Blog at: www.Blogspot.RodneysMCBlog.com
“All I need to do is get there, and then just follow someone else.” That was my reason for going to Rallies when I first started going. I loved the idea that I just needed to get there and when the event was over, I just need to find my way back home. While I was there, all I had to do was follow a leader, and enjoy the schedule of activities.
Some of my best two wheel travels have been those going to and from a rally or a gathering. I felt free to really plan a good journey to the event, because once I was there, I could turn off the navigator in me, and turn on the sight seer.
My first long trip was from Indianapolis, Indiana to Knoxville, Tennessee. I was riding this distance for two reasons – the Honda Hoot and Cruiser Club, USA’s annual get together called Gathering of Eagles, or GOE. I took a full day to make the nearly 400 mile trip all on backroads through the Hoosier Hills, Kentucky and finally the Volunteer State. I was traveling alone, and there were points on the trip I didn’t see any other traffic for long stretches. I had to wonder if the worst happened, how long would I, and my 1985 Honda Shadow VT700, be lying in a ditch before I was noticed?
 |
You
don’t find a lot of people named Rodney, let alone an entire
town, so a picture has to be taken. |
A couple of years later, GOE would be in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and my brother and I were ready to make an epic voyage out of it. I took off early in the morning headed north to meet my brother in Fort Wayne, Indiana. From there, we continued north, through Detroit and made our way through customs in Canada. After a stop in Rodney, Ontario, we found our hotel in Toronto. We continued through the Great White North through the city of Montreal, and spent one final night in Sherbrook, Quebec. This wass deep in French Speaking Territory. I had brushed up on some French to at least get us into a hotel room and dinner at a restaurant, but fortunately we ran into enough English speakers to get by.
This was back in 2004, and I had heard many tell me that in Michael Moore’s “Bowling for Columbine” he reported how Canadians don’t lock their doors because they don’t have the threat from fire arms. I was amazed as we rolled into town on a Sunday afternoon to all the businesses closed, behind bars and metal doors. We were even warned on the street, not leave anything on our motorcycles because it would be stolen. My concern heightened as we rounded to the back of the hotel, which was sandwiched between two sex shops, and we pulled into the parking lot. The area was littered with more condoms than go bad every year in the wallets of hopeful high school boys. The next morning our bikes looked untouched, so I took off on my Honda Shadow Sabre, firm in the belief she was still a virgin. We finished the trip two days later after passing through nearly all the New England States and the Big Apple.
My brother and I tried to make all the trips to GOE the one great motorcycle trip of the year. Even when our own Indianapolis Chapter hosted the event, I made a detour through Columbus, Indiana to direct a worldwide satellite broadcast for Cummins Engines. Normally a trip across the circle city was about 20 some miles, but this trip ended up being more than 150 miles.
 |
Kasey
and I got caught on our way south from
Philadelphia by ”Sunshine” Bob, a fellow
Cruiser Club Brother from Virginia.
Photo compliments of his riding partner.
|
themselves. Again, after our cruiser brothers and sisters held the rally in the City of Brotherly Love, I and my favorite riding partner, Kasey, headed south to Jacksonville, Florida. One of the overnight stops was at an old college friend’s home, another in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.
Jacksonville, Florida was not the end of the trip, however. We still needed to make it back home again to Indiana. The cruise would take us through Blood Mountain, the Cherohala Skyway, and The Dragon’s Tail at Deal’s Gap, all in one day! I thought the steering bearings in my Honda VTX 1800c might get too hot and seize.
Gathering of Eagles was not the only rally I attended. Mixed in there along the way were a couple of trips to the Honda Homecoming in the neighboring buckeye state. This was a gathering, mostly for Honda Owners, at the Marysville, Ohio Plant. They were still building motorcycles at that location at the time. Both of these trips I rode alone. The first time I went, I stayed in a hotel not far from the very first Wendy’s Hamburger Joint. The second time, I stayed at a make shift hostel, friends from an online Shadow Sabre Owners Group opened up their home for several of us. With the Homecoming, I still had to figure out some things for myself, but there were plenty of opportunities to just follow the crowd. Coming back, on an Indiana backroad, I crossed a small creek with a cloud of bugs hanging over. The group of bugs was so thick; I had to ease into the throttle to avoid losing speed!
Another gathering that became a yearly event, and the source for some epic journeys, was something called The Soup Run. Every year, on the Saturday after Memorial Day, a guy known as Mr. Soup, would invite online motorcycle friends to his home to have soup, a brat and/or a burger. So once I was there, it didn’t involve any additional riding, but I do like eating good food. My first trip was pretty much straight up, with a bulge in the line to avert Chicago. The return was pretty much the same route. I did do a stint on Route 66, and through Joliet, Illinois. Later trips would see my arc around Chicago grow further westward.
 |
You
get to The Soup Run soon enough, you
get to park in a driveway. The rest, and
there
were many, parked along the edge of the road.
|
There ended up being ten versions of The Soup Run, and I made the last six of them. I also got some company on a few of those trips. My brother and his wife joined me for Soup Run IX, and a bunch of guys, and my favorite riding partner gal pal made it with me to the tenth and final run. These first timers were often curious about how this event worked. I had developed a tradition. I would get plain brat and bowl of beer cheese soup, and dip the brat and bun into the liquid concoction. Later, I would find out the other guys were spreading this around the crowd, describing it as “The Rodney”.
All of these miles of memories have proven to me that isn’t always about the destination, but that the journey matters, and can be the most important part of the trip. I started with a quote of mine, so I will leave you with one, “It’s all about the route.”
To read more of my motorcycle stories, including expanded stories of the trips mentioned above, you can check out my Motorcycle Blog at: www.Blogspot.RodneysMCBlog.com
Comments