Or, “Up the River Without a History Book”
To many people who grew up in Philadelphia, American history has been a big part of their culture.  And to many motorcyclists living in the Delaware Valley, a big part of their culture is a Sunday morning ride along the Delaware River on Route 32.  The day’s ride starts near Washington’s Crossing, where the state park chronicles General Washington’s attack on the Hessian outpost in Trenton, NJ on the night of December 25th, 1776.

Route 32, or River Road as it is also labeled, winds its way up through the town of New Hope, founded in 1710.  Originally known for its mills and forges, New Hope is now home to many antique shops, the Bucks County Playhouse, and the New Hope Winery.  On any spring or summer weekend, hundreds of motorcycles can be found parked in town, their riders dining in any of the fine restaurants along Route 32.  On most days, traffic is slow-going the three blocks through downtown New Hope, but the town is still worth a look.

Just a few miles up the road from New Hope, at the junction of Routes 32 and 263, is Dilly’s Corner, a popular spot for hamburgers, hot dogs, and especially ice cream.  With a belly full of soft-serve, continue north on 32 and follow the blue signs to another weekend biker hangout: Van Sant Airport.  Originally a glider port called the Silver Star Airport, it was bought by John Van Sant in 1944, and is now home to Sport Aviation which offers rides in gliders and biplanes.  Backtracking to Route 32 (or continuing west to 611) and heading north, Route 32 ends at Route 611 which winds its way north toward Easton, PA.

Between the road and the river, lies the Delaware Canal, once used to bring resources such as coal, limestone, cement and lumber from the northeastern parts of Pennsylvania to the city of Philadelphia.  Over the past few years, some of the berms and towpaths, now commonly used as a bicycle trail, were damaged by flood waters.  Efforts to repair and restore the towpath and the canal itself can be seen from the roadway on 611.  It’s rumored that once the repairs to the canal are made, horse-drawn barge rides along the canal will return to New Hope.

Route 611 enters Easton as Larry Holmes Drive, named after the former heavyweight boxing champion that was born here.  Its historic district nestled between the Lehigh and Delaware Rivers, Easton served as a transportation hub for coal and steel through the 1800s, thanks to the convergence of the Delaware, Lehigh and Morris canals. North of Easton, 611 becomes a twisty byway, with several scenic pull-offs overlooking the Delaware River.

Pressing north towards the Delaware Water Gap, follow the signs to I-80 and Route 209 North. Route 209 becomes a very efficient road (read: pretty darn straight), but provides some opportunities to pass slow-moving vehicles.  This area is known as the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area, with many activities available including swimming, fishing and rock climbing.  Some camp sites are available here as well.

Route 209 merges with Route 6 in Milford, PA before crossing into New York State at Port Jervis, NY.  Located where Pennsylvania, New York and New Jersey intersect, Port Jervis was named for John B. Jervis, the chief engineer for the Delaware and Hudson Canal, for which the town was a major port.  Of interest to motorcycle magazine readers, Hunter S. Thompson reportedly lived here early in his career until he was fired from the local paper after assaulting a vending machine.

Turning west onto Route 97 leads to the famous Hawk’s Nest in the town of Deerpark.  Named after the local birds, this part of Route 97 was originally a one-lane dirt road in 1859, paved in the 1930s, and in 2002 was dedicated as part of the “Upper Delaware Scenic Byway.”  The scenic overlooks make for impromptu gathering spots for motorcyclists and motorists alike.

All along the route are opportunities to explore other areas.  From Washington’s Crossing, the Bucks County covered bridges tour takes you through 11 covered bridges in the course of a few hours.  Take Route 29 in New Jersey and bypass New Hope for a quicker run up to Easton.  Along Route 611, dozens of numbered routes provide twisty westward tarmac that will welcome you into parts of Pennsylvania’s farmlands.  And Hawk’s Nest provides a great jumping-off point for adventures into New York and New England: just continue north on Route 97 and pick up Route 30 north through the Catskills, or from Port Jervis head east on Route 6 across Bear Mountain and into Connecticut.

The journey from northeast Philadelphia to Hawk’s Nest takes about three and a half hours, at a sport-touring pace, adding time for sight-seeing and a meal.  A round-trip of about 8 hours makes for a relaxing day trip over nicely-curved roads, with spectacular scenic views of the Delaware River below, plenty of diversions should I ever decide to get off the bike, and with plenty of time to get home for dinner.

Last summer, I took a long day trip to visit the legendary Pine Creek Gorge – also known as the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania - and became enchanted with another Pennsylvania legend: Route 6.  I did some online research into the scenic roadway, which enters PA in the northeast near Milford, expands into a section of highway as it passes through the Scranton area, and eventually becomes a sweeping two-lane scenic byway most of the way to Ohio.

Rolling through light traffic on I-476 on a Saturday morning, I noticed some dark clouds looming over the Wilkes-Barre area.  The weather forecasts for the weekend had been hopeful, and so I took Route 315 to Route 92 north under an optimistically light drizzle.

Winding along the Susquehanna River, Route 92 was showing signs of a recent storm, or so I thought.  There was plenty of loose foliage in the road, including a log the size of my leg in the middle of my lane near Exeter.  A few miles up the road, I caught up to the actual source of the carnage: a double-wide trailer being hauled by a small crew, knocking off the branches of low-hanging trees.  Eventually, the crew decided to stop and assess the damage to the trailer, giving me and the other waiting drivers a chance to pass.  A few more minutes of twisty-road goodness without having to dodge tree limbs, and I was turning west onto Route 6.

A few miles down the road, some construction forced a detour onto Route 187.  Detour or not, Route 187 was a great diversion from the relatively straight Route 6.  An exciting series of tight twisties eventually brought me back to Route 6, continuing as a 2-lane highway with local traffic clogging things up and no room to pass.  The spare tire cover on a Jeep in front of me proclaimed “Life is Good” and despite the traffic, I had to agree.  Past Wysox, the road opened up to a more rural two-lane with lighter traffic and the sweeping curves appeared with more frequency, as did little red barns.

In Wellsboro, I stopped at Memorial Park to admire the statues and memorials dedicated to local and national veterans.  Route 660 leads south out of town and winds its way into the forest to terminate at the eastern rim of Pine Creek Gorge.  One can spend hours just looking at the scenery over the local Grand Canyon, or spend all day walking the trails that lead down into it.

After a few quick photos of the scenery, as well as the wedding taking place in the park, I jumped back on my trusty Honda just as the gray skies began to open up.  Backtracking on 660 through Wellsboro and picking up Route 6 west, the rain steadily increased, coming down heaviest as I passed through Paradise.  The name didn’t seem fitting at that moment.

As the rain began to let up, I discovered that wildlife abounds along Route 6, and sometimes it a-bounds across the road.  From the woods on my left, a fawn leaped onto the roadway in the oncoming lane, matching my trajectory and nearly matching my pace.  I rolled on the throttle just as the wee deer deked to its right and across my lane.  In the mirror, it looked like he had tried to jump over the back of my motorcycle, as he was at least three feet in the air over top of where I had been just a second earlier.  Eventually he ran into the trees on the north side of the road without further incident, but his antics had me riding much slower the rest of the day.

I arrived at the Kinzua Bridge under a light rain.  In 2002, during overdue renovation, the century and a half year old railroad bridge was struck by a passing tornado and much of its span toppled to the ground.  Already a landmark for its age and local history, the Kinzua Bridge is now a fascinating testament to nature’s destructive power over man’s creations.  The rain let up just as I found my way back onto Route 6.

A $16 fee rented me a tent spot way in the back of the Foote Rest campground on Rt 219, just north of Route 6.  I carefully navigated my loaded-up VFR through the RV area, trying to avoid the hundred or so bunny rabbits that shared the campground with the visitors.  After setting up camp, I took the 20 mile ride north to Bradford for dinner at Fitelli’s 50s restaurant.  Later that night, I awoke in my tent to the sounds of twigs breaking underfoot outside.  I quickly fell back asleep, assuring myself “it’s only the rabbits, it’s only the rabbits.”

After sleeping-in until 7:30am the next day, I emerged from my tent to a sky that just looked wet.  The clouds swirled in a dozen shades of gray, all looking to put a damper on the day’s activities, which started with a visit to Kinzua Dam.

By mid-morning the clouds had burned off from the summer heat, and Route 6 turned into 4-lane highway between Warren and Youngstown, allowing me to stretch the VFR’s legs a little.  Instead of following the main Route 6 to the Ohio border, I opted for the northern route, 6N towards Erie.  Route 6N terminates at Route 20, where I headed north to Presque National Park and snapped a few pictures as I relaxed on the edge of the beach.

After a few hours of twisting through central PA and zipping east on the Turnpike, I was home.  The weekend surely didn’t allow me enough time to explore more than a little of what northern Pennsylvania has to offer.  With so much more to see along Route 6, there is no doubt that I will be spending many more weekends in northern Pennsylvania.

See the full route and some pics on my SpotAdventures page: Motorcycle Weekend - Route 6 in PA at SpotAdventures

Or, “It’s frikken hot in here!”

While Darek made his way across the Pennsylvania Turnpike, racing towards our lunch spot, Todd and I came across a dozen classic motorcycles parked off the side of Rt 641.  I pointed at them, in case Todd was asleep and didn’t see them.  After we passed, he flashed his high-beam and we turned around to investigate the roadside attraction further.

By the time we were off the bikes and Todd had his camera out, a friendly fellow calling himself George approached us.  George explained he was a mechanic, and part of a small company setting up shop at that location, then offered us the nickel tour.  George led us back to a 300′ converted poultry barn, now filled with literally hundreds of classic motorcycles of all makes, in various states of decay and restoration.  According to George, the place will be open for business in about 8 months as a one-stop purchasing and restoration shop for bikes over 20 years old.  Todd continued the tour and took some photos while I took a call from Darek and gave him last-minute directions to lunch.

Darek arrived at the Path Valley Family Restaurant about the time Todd and I were debating on whether to wait for him by the bikes, or head inside and get a table.   The waitress’ gruff and frank demeanor might be a bit off-putting for normal folks, but having been raised in Philly I felt right at home.  The food was good, and all three of us commented on the reasonable prices.  With our bellies filled, and our bladders emptied, we headed northwest towards Clearfield.

Back on 641 heading northwest, we picked up 522 north to 322 north.  With the GPS constantly recalculating our route to the campground in Moshannon State Park, I led our little group over 2-lane roads running parallel to Rt 322 north until we hit a dead-end on Old Rt 322 in Armagh Township.  Zooming in on the GPS map for more detail, Todd and I both decided on Lingle Valley Road to get us out of the area and back on track.  Lingle Valley Road quickly deteriorated from a narrow paved road into a gravel forest road.  We rode slowly through gravel - sometimes deep - over the mountain pass, and finally hit tarmac several scary miles later at Stone Creek Road.  Wandering through Rothrock State Forest, we made our way up near State College, where we picked up 322 north again.

In order to avoid more gravel roads, we stayed on 322 to Philipsburg, where we picked up Rt 504 (Black Moshannon Rd) East to the campgrounds in Black Moshannon Park.  We took advantage of the daylight and set up camp before heading to Clearfield to try and catch up with some STN’ers for dinner.  The tents went up even more quickly this time and with our less-valuable gear stowed inside them, we jumped back on the bikes and headed into town.

A quick run over I-80 put us into Clearfield in a few minutes.  The first hotel I spotted with motorcycles was the Super 8.  We stopped and chatted with a few folks there before pressing on to dinner.  We had settled on pizza, so Todd pulled up the nearest non-chain pizza shop on his GPS.  We found Mabel’s Pizza Shop, and the manager was surprised to learn it was on Todd’s Garmin.  The shop is not much more than a store-front in a residential neighborhood of Clearfield, and the inside is as hot as the oven.  Honestly, it was barely tolerable long enough to order our pizzas, but it was worth the effort (and the wait) for the classic neighborhood-style pizza most of us grew up on.  We gobbled down our pizzas on the front step of Mabel’s, then stopped down the street at Buster’s Sports Bar for a few six-packs of Yuengling Lager which fit perfectly in Todd’s saddlebags for the ride back to the camp site.

Heading back to camp, Darek and I swapped bikes, as we were both having minor issues that we couldn’t seem to diagnose.  Sometimes another rider can help pinpoint problems by feel, since they haven’t grown accustomed to the bike’s imperfections.  I had to agree that Darek’s issue was his chain - either too tight or not lubed enough - whereas Darek didn’t ride my VFR hard enough to feel the slight chattering I was experiencing in the front end under hard braking.

Todd led with his GPS pointing the way down some broken tarmac and even lightly-graveled roads through Moshannon State Park.  With the sun fully set, the local wildlife were active, and several deer crossed our paths, making the back roads through the woods on someone else’s bike even more harrowing…

Or, “I don’t think this tent sleeps two.”

Sport-Touring.Net’s Region 6 fourth annual Meet-and-Eat (also called the “Burger Run”) was dutifully and expertly organized by Garry for Sunday, April 26th.  Over a hundred motorcyclists and their bikes were planning to show up for lunch at Denny’s Beer Barrel Pub in Clearfield, PA, a place best-known for serving the largest hamburgers around, including a 100-lb burger that takes 9 hours to cook.  Todd and I took it as an opportunity to ride all weekend and initiate ourselves with motorcycle camping.  I had meant to meet up with Darek last year for a few rides but our plans fell through, so I invited him to join us on this short adventure.

Todd and I wasted no time, both heading out after work on Friday.  Todd had reserved a tent camping spot at the Harrisburg East Campground,  a privately-owned campground just 5 miles from downtown Harrisburg, PA.  We met at the Wendy’s at the intersection of Rt 283 and S. Eisenhower Boulevard, where I spent several minutes wondering why this Wendy’s didn’t have apple pies before realizing that Wendy’s never had apple pies - I was thinking of Burger King’s pies.

From there, the campground was only a few blocks away.  We located the bathrooms across the road in the RV section of the campground, and got to work setting up camp.  Arriving after dark, we were glad we brought our head lights (lights we wore on our heads) as we set up our tents and unloaded the bikes.  Luckily there was only one other tent in the area, and it was way on the other side; the tent sites are right on top of each other at this campground.

My tent went up easily enough - I had practiced putting it up inside my apartment last year - but it is much smaller than I had previously realized.  The labels says “Sleeps 2″, but it is also labeled as a “Junior” tent, so I’m assuming that means it sleeps two kids?  Anyway, despite Todd’s laughing and finger-pointing at my diminutive shelter, it was big enough for my 5′6″ body along with some of the gear I wanted to keep close and protected.  My riding jacket and helmet slept with me to keep them warm and relatively dry, and all of my valuable electronics (cell phone, camera, video camera, GPS) were kept within the tent, secured by the zippered door.

I slept very well, thanks to several comfort items that will go on my permanent camping list.  The big blue Wal-Mart tarp under the tent kept the tent floor dry and warm.  The Therma-Rest pad further cushioned by body from the ground, even though I skimped and bought a short one figuring I don’t really need padding under my legs.   And then there was the compression pillow I picked up at REI - absolutely invaluable.  Todd whined about how his makeshift pillow - a rolled-up jacket liner - just didn’t do the job.  Todd brought his own useful items though, not the least of which being a white-LED lamp that, when hung from the ceiling, lit up his entire tent very well.

Saturday morning we headed west.  The plan was to meander on two-lane roads to the Path Valley Family Restaurant in Spring Run, PA where we would meet Darek for lunch.  I pulled up the restaurant’s waypoint in the GPS, and used it as a general guide as we wandered along the two-lane roads that parallel the PA Turnpike.  I really wish I had turned on the GPS’ tracking feature, because we did find some nice twisties here and there.

Darek was making his way across the PA Turnpike from Philly when Todd and I made an unusual roadside discovery…

Or, “Riding in a Winter Wonderland.”

It was cool and raining lightly in the Delaware Valley on a Friday afternoon as I left work, anticipating a week of riding my favorite roads in North Carolina and Tennessee.  After packing my clothes and a short nap, I drove over to JoeyD’s house, where I had left my VFR a few days earlier.  Troy and Josh were already there, with their bikes loaded in the trailer.  It didn’t take long for Joe and I to get our bikes and bags situated and we were all on our way - 12 hours in the truck and we would be in the motorcycling holy land.

A 10am arrival at the Ridge on Saturday morning allowed us a few hours of riding time.  There were no vacating guests at the cabin, and Max had already arrived from his home in Florida and was just waking from a nap.  So we tossed our bags inside and claimed our beds before heading out on the Cherohala/Dragon loop.  Joe chose the Ridge several years ago for the group trip, and we’ve stuck with it, partially due to the large garage and the hospitality of the owners Ron & Nancy, but also for its proximity to the southern end of the Cherohala Skyway.

The Cherohala Skyway, named for the Cherokee and Natahala Forests it passes through, winds over 40 miles of fast sweepers to Tellico Plains, Tennessee, with breathtaking views at the occasional scenic overlooks.  The pace is fast, compared to many of the more technical roads in the area, and line of sight through the curves is generally good.  There are a few decreasing-radius corners that can sneak up on you, though, if you’re not paying attention, and this may account for the higher accident rate here than at the Dragon.  Elevations rise as high as 5,400 feet, and this would factor into our route decisions later in the week as the temperatures dropped.  Even in the warmer months, an early morning ride across the Cherohala is a chilling way to wake yourself up at the beginning of a day’s ride.

The loop took us around through the Dragon on US Highway 129, which was relatively deserted of bikers for a Saturday; then again, it was early in the season.  We made a quick stop at the Deal’s Gap store, which has come a long way over the years, and since last year has been serving good food in their dining area.  From the Crossroads of Time (intersection of Hwy 129 and Rt 28), we headed down one of our other favorite roads, Route 28, with its diversity of wide sweepers and tight technical curves, all with ample run-off space and good line of sight.  Route 143 through Robbinsville back to the Ridge has been re-paved since last year and is now a joy to ride, rather than the chore of navigating tight curves over broken pavement and piles of gravel it once was.

As we relaxed with a few brews and got the grill fired up, our buddy Hugh arrived from his home in Georgia.  Climbing off his filthy Bandit 1200S - a testament to the significant amount of miles Hugh puts on it every year - I promptly handed him a cold Yuengling Lager before he could even unzip his AeroStitch suit.  A long night ensued around the campfire, of swapping motorcycle stories and just catching up since we saw Hugh on last year’s vacation.

Sunday morning, we woke to clear skies and temps in the 50s; highs were predicted somewhere in the mid-60s.  We bundled up and hit the Cherohala on our way to meet up with Max’s friend George before continuing on to the Two Wheels Only motorcycle resort in Suches, Georgia.  From Tellico Plains, we headed south on 68 and 60 to T.W.O. where we were greeted by a friendly stray dog.  After an hour or so break there, we continued on 60 to Dahlonega, where we refuled before heading up Hwy 129 across Blood Mountian.

The origin of Blood Mountain’s name is still debatable, but it is a fact that the three-lane road that climbs up and over Georgia’s sixth-tallest mountian is one heck of a fun ride.  The twisty mountain road starts as a 2-lane, and then adds a passing lane in the uphill sections, giving riders a unique experience as you can use two full lanes to navigate the tight corners when traffic allows.  Memorable parts included a bagger jumping in behind us after we passed him - Joe says it was a Kawasaki Concours - and that guy was doing everything he could to keep up with us including crossing the double-yellow lines on a relatively wide left-hander, and local police had a couple on a sportbike stopped going the other way.  The banked curves and 2 lanes of maneuvering room make for a fast ascent up Blood Mountian, and quite a memorable ride.  After a short break at the top, Hugh and George headed home, and the rest of us took the scenic route back to the Ridge via the Cherohala.

Monday morning brought on the return of winter.  We headed out around 11am in 36 degree weather and a light drizzling rain.  Four of us made the short loop up 129 to the Deal’s Gap store, back down 28 and over 143 back to the Ridge.  The pass over 143 between 28 and 129 showed 34 degrees on the VFR’s thermometer.  By the time we refueled at the new Chevron station at the intersection of 143 and 129, we were being pelted with freezing rain.  It snowed that night and into Tuesday, when we took the truck to one of the scenic overlooks in Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest, just off the Robbinsville end of the Cherohala Skyway, then onto the Smoky Mountain Knife Works in Sevierville, TN.

Wednesday brought the sun and springtime back with temps in the 50s by mid-morning.  I had the privilege of a passenger to keep me warm all day in the form of Troy’s friend from high-school, who was visiting the area and asked if she could tag along with us for the day.  The VFR handled a passenger very well, even without me taking the time to adjust the suspension preload, and Diana was a model passenger, moving with me through every turn.  There were a few times I nearly went wide in a corner because I forgot she was back there and didn’t compensate for carrying the extra weight through a tight turn.  Nevertheless, we all enjoyed a great lunch at Fat Buddies in Franklin, NC (after circling the town several times looking for it) and ended the day with a run through the Dragon before heading back to the Ridge for dinner and tall tales around the campfire.

Thursday was probably the best weather we had all week: around 70 degrees and sunny.  Our intention was to take a long ride, picking up the Blue Ridge Parkway at its southern end in Cherokee, and hit some of the nicer side roads off the Parkway between Cherokee and Asheville.  It turned out the Blue Ridge Parkway was closed in most places, no doubt due to the snowfall two days earlier.  After a run down Hwy 215, we cut over to Brevard for some Hawg Wild BBQ before running up 276 to the old Blue Ridge Motorcycle Campground and back.  The return route was mostly highway and got us home well after dark, over Hwy 64 to Cashiers, then north on Rt 107 to Hwy 17/441.  Rt 107 was a nice 2-lane that we will need to explore during daylight hours next time.

Waking up Friday morning to the sounds of a thunderstorm, we checked the forecast and realized that the rest of our time there would be wet.  The consensus was to pack it in if there was no more riding to be done.  So, we loaded up the gear and the bikes and hit the road; we made it home by midnight Friday night, in order to make the most of our remaining weekend.  Total mileage for the week was just over 1,200.  Not bad for only four days of good weather.  Before next year’s trip, we’ll make sure winter is gone for good.

Download Garmin GPS Routes and Waypoints (Right-click, Save As…):  Dragon2009.gdb (338KB)

YouTube Video:  Following Hugh on the Cherohala Skyway

YouTube Video: Blood Mountain