The plan was to meet at Denny’s in East Greenbush, NY, just outside of Albany. Four of us met up in Bristol, PA the day before and had a sunny but cold ride up. Saturday morning brought 6 other riders, and a cold rain. Many local riders had already backed-out due to the impending weather. We rode for an hour or so after breakfast, but enthusiasm dwindled as the rain continued.

Edit:  This wasn’t explained in the original article when it was posted, but “BONER” stood for “Bandit Owners of the NorthEast Region.”  -Bravo12

This took me almost 2 months to get around to finishing, but considering it took me almost a year to get around to writing up my Americade 2002 trip, I think I’m doing okay. Instead of a full detailed write-up or chronological account of our trip, I decided to make this one more of a pictorial, with just a few notes to let everyone know what’s going on in the pics. It’s still set up chronologically, but with more pictures than words this time. Just click any thumbnail to load the full-size photo.

Los Banditos

I think the rest of the pictures will make more sense if I introduce the riders and their mounts first. I met all these guys from the Maximum-Suzuki.com forums. I still have yet to meet a Bandit rider that I wouldn’t want as a friend - these guys are some of the best people around.

First there was me on my silver 2001 Bandit1200S. Oh, and I brought my little riding buddy, whom I’ve come to refer to as “Roadkill”. After a nice leisurely ride up to Diamond Point and checking into the hotel, DJGoody showed up, as if on cue, on his blue Bandit. After dropping the luggage, we headed into town to check things out and eventually met up with BlueMax and MWT, both of whom I met in Lake George during Americade 2002. Just to show we don’t discriminate, BlueMax and MWT brought along FJoe on his Kawasaki ZRX, and Sinops on his CBR600. After a few minutes of “talking bikes” in the parking lot, it was off to the Lobster Pot for dinner!

Out on the Town

Canada Street in Lake George was already hopping, and there was plenty to see. Everything from cruisers, to customs, to full-on touring rigs, to stuff we’ve never seen before! Americade had just officially opened that day, and things were already getting good. We parked the bikes in the hotel lot, and walked down to Duffy’s Tavern, checking out all the bikes along the way. The outside deck at Duffy’s provides one of the best places to relax and watch the action. We made sure not to stay out too late, as we had made big plans for Day 2.

We had been planning this trip for a few months. Many Americaders are planning this trip by the time they leave Americade the year before. Last year, Paul and I had planned on lots of riding; not riding for distance, but riding all frikken day. This time around, the group made some simple goals and we pretty much fulfilled them all.

Day Two - Five Motorcycles, One Mission: Lap the Lake

Our main goal for Tuesday was the simplest one: to head north and ride all the way around Lake George. Not a long distance, really, but it was a solid goal. The secondary goal was to get back to town early enough to visit the dealerexpo before they closed. Both of these goals were attained, despite my subconscious attempt to thwart them from the beginning.

Maybe it’s because I usually don’t wake up before noon, but pulling out of the hotel parking lot, I was watching approaching traffic more than the guys in front of me. I thought MWT was pulling out, I looked left and went - when I looked ahead, he was still right there. DOH! I collided with him and down I went. In my defense, I was cresting a speed bump on a steep driveway when we hit, which threw me even more off-balance, resulting in the right side of my Bandit hitting the ground. Luckily, MWT stayed upright. Total damage: my front right turn signal, my Zero Gravity windshield lost a corner (the mirror folded back and whacked it), and a broken brake lever, along with a few new scratches. MWT suffered a broken rear turn signal and some scratches. Luckily, I had a spare brake lever (you what…?! That’s right!) and it wasn’t long before we were on the road again, just like it was supposed to happen.

BlueMax led us over a small winding road that passed over what seemed to be a small mountain, and dropped us in a little village on the lake called Hewlett Landing. I thought the locals would be a little disenchanted by our motors rumbling through their little retreat. Instead, the few we saw waved and smiled as if we were relatives come home to visit. We waved back, then stopped at the dock where the road ends, for a short break - and lotsa pics.

Well, a few hours and some pizza slices later, we hit town again for the dealerexpo. There’s nothing like parking in a field of thousands of motorcycles of all types, and going shopping for stuff that will make your own bike stand out from the crowd even more. While I searched for a new windshield, MWT took DJGoody on the ride up to the top of Mt Prospect - a view you can’t pass up when visiting Lake George. I found a replacement shield at the Givi stand, and easily installed it in the parking area.

The Lonely Road Home

With another Americade week getting crowded, my friends already gone home, and I having to work the next day, it was time to pack up anb head home. Rolling south on I-87, I missed my exit that would put me on 209 South. I took the next exit and headed west, figuring I’d pick up 209 eventually. As it turns out, I couldn’t have planned a better route - I ended up on 55 going west through some great mountain roads - wide open 60mph sweepers, the kind heavy bikes like the Bandit just love. And the scenery was nice, too.

Well, I hope you enjoyed sharing this trip with me. Please feel free to e-mail with any comments or suggestions.

For official coverage of Americade 2003, and up-to-date news and info on the next Americade, visit www.tourexpo.com.

It was barely a month before the opening celebration of Americade 2002 when Paul invited me along. He already had a room booked at the Adirondack Diamond Point Lodge. I had never been to Americade before and Paul had everything ready to go; how could I refuse?

We were both limited on vacation time, so our trip was set for just four days total. The first and last day were set aside for travel from the Philadelphia area to Lake George and back. This gave us two days to see what makes Americade, Lake George, and the surrounding areas so appealing to so many motorcyclists every year.

I mounted my new set of Corbin Beetlebags onto the Bandit; Paul had his Givi’s mounted on a Wing Rack on his own Bandit. I also brought along a Joe Rocket tank bag and tail pack for even more storage. This setup worked well. The Beetlebags hold alot more than their contoured shape implies, and the JR tailpack held 4 days worth of t-shirts, underwear and socks. Fully loaded, the Bandit’s handling and acceleration were hardly affected - the heavier cargo sitting low in the saddlebags.

We met up and headed north on the Pennsylvania Turnpike Norheast Extension. The weather was cool but sunny. Other motorcyclists were everywhere, but most of them were headed in the other direction to participate in the annual Daniel Faulkner Memorial Run.

Paul and I had planned our route a few weeks earlier, and estimated a 6-hour ride if we kept mostly on the interstates, with just a few surface routes as we cross the PA/NY border. Instead, we stretched it into an 8-hour excursion by heading west out of Albany and railing up the eastern shore of Great Scanadaga Lake. The twisty 2-lane lakeside road had plenty of curves and very little traffic. After scraping the pegs a few times, the road dumped us out just south of Lake George. Paul and I couldn’t help but hi-five after that run - we don’t have many roads like that back home, and the few we have can get kinda crowded with trucks. We didn’t know it at the time, but that was just a quick preview of what was to come.

We rode north through Lake George, up to Diamond Point. There were plenty of bikes around, but Americade was not scheduled to start until the next afternoon. After checking into our room and dumping our luggage - Paul’s detachable Givi bags made things alot easier than unloading everything from the Beetlebags - we turned back south into Lake George to see what was happening. The late afternoon sun kept things comfortable at around 70 degrees F. We found an outdoor restaurant and chowed down on some popcorn chicken.

You know you’re a real motorcycle enthusiast when you’re happy as a clam just sitting back and watching one bike after another rumble (or buzz) down the street. And we weren’t the only ones - nearly everyone at the tables around us would also perk up at the sound of a rumbling motor approaching. We knew we were among friends already.

Canada Street, the main road through the town of Lake George, has dozens of shops selling t-shirts, hats, and other souvenirs as well as the necessary pizza and ice cream shops. After walking past the majority of the storefronts, we came upon Duffy’s Tavern where we could hear live music being played from the 2nd floor balcony. We made our way back to the Bandits and brought them to Duffys - a tradition we continued the next two nights. Duffy’s appears like an average bar on the first floor, but the second floor had a live band. The “music” we heard coming from the outside balcony, was actually several folks taking turns, uh…”singing.” To their credit, they played their instruments much better than they sang. Although the balcony crowd was mostly the Harley and cruiser crowd, nobody paid any mind to our bright sport jackets and full-face helmets. We were all ‘bikers’ that week, and we were all there to ride and have fun - and Duffy’s was alot of fun.

Day 2: Monday morning. The plan was to get up at a reasonable time, check out the complimentary donuts and coffee at the lodge, then head north through Ft Ticonderoga, and hit some Vermont roads. Well, I could have used more than a donut for breakfast, but we were both eager to hit the road.

Paul and I headed North on Rt 9 along the West coast of Lake George, stopping first at a scenic overlook, where more than a few bikers were taking in the view. A few minutes of taking photos and checking out other people’s bikes, and we were on our way again.

Heading farther north, we stopped at Fort Ticonderoga. The tour itself cost $12 and was supposed to take an hour or so. We hit the gift shop for about 20 minutes (including a tour of their mens’ room), and I bought a few shot glasses for some friends back home. While some other bikers were taking in the tour, Paul and I hit the road again.

North again on 9, we crossed over into Vermont at Chimney Point. The loop we had mepped out through Vermont was pretty simple, but apparently there are no bad roads in this part of the country. 17 East, 100 South, 73 West and back over to Ticonderoga, NY. Small towns, twisty mountain roads, and some of the most beutiful mountaintop scenery anywhere!

Our route worked out as planned, except for the end. Instead of crossing the bridge into Ticonderoga, we got a little lost and ended up at the Larrabee Ferry. This small cable ferry runs every 20 minutes, so we decided to wait, along with a few Gold Wings and Harleys that had gathered. This was definitely a nice break before the final stretch back down Rt 9 to our hotel.

As I tried to take a nap at the hotel before heading out to a late dinner, I was awakened by a knock on the door. Some online buddies had seen our Bandits from the road and found our room. We met up with them later that night at Duffy’s. Dinner, Duffy’s, sleeeeeeeep.

Day 3: Time for the DealerExpo! Parking at the dealerexpo is like nothing I have seen before. The expo is actually on what is usually a parking lot, and all the bikes are channelled into the grassy area of the park. This makes for a huge field of motorcycles for the rest of the week. One can show up and just spend the whole day looking at bikes. For registered guests of Americade, admission to the dealerexpo was free - just show your wristband. For day-trippers, like Paul and I, it was $10/day admission.

The dealerexpo has just about everything you could want for touring on two wheels. Maybe not all the brands you want, especially when it comes to helmets, but they did have something for everyone. You can even buy more than you can haul - they have UPS standing by to ship your stuff home for you. Or, if you want your new accessories installed, let the dealer know and you can bring your bike in for servicing. The food court was okay, and I made sure I ate before I used (read:touched) the porta-johns.

A few t-shirt purchases, and we were deciding where to ride for the rest of the day. I don’t remember the route, as Paul was leading by memory, but we headed NorthWest into the mountains. Soon, we found Paul’s old summer camp from his younger years. A quick tour of his old cabin, and we were headed back towards the Lake George area, trying to beat the rain clouds that were coming in.

We got a little damp, some sprinkles catching up with us, but we made it back to the hotel. A little while later, we braved the drizzle and headed into town for, you guessed it, dinner, Duffy’s, and back to the hotel to sleeeeeep.

Day 4: Nothing to report. We went home. Mostly highway. We passed many Harleys. Sometime while we were in Lake George (I forget which day - I need to take notes sometimes), we ventured to the top of Mt Prospect. Mt Prospect is accessible from Canada Street in Lake George, and the admission was around $2 or $3. It’s a leisurely ride up the steep, winding road to the top, where you can see most of the town of Lake George and about half of the lake itself. Definitely worth the admission to see this view.

Shortly following the catastrophic attack on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, the United States military activated many National Guard and reservists such as myself. I soon found myself on the fringe of Operation: Enduring Freedom (I prefer the original name, Operation: Extreme Justice), and was given open-ended orders to the Azores, a small group of islands in the Atlantic Ocean, belonging to Portugal. Being a relatively small island - we drove a car around the coastal road in an hour and a half - there was very little to do. There were, however, a few motorcycle dealers that managed to make a living there. This gave me a chance to ride a little while I was deployed.

One of my buddies decided to make the best of a less-than-desirable situation, and arranged to purchase a new euro-spec Honda CBR600FSport (F4i here at home), red of course. It’s a good thing to be friends with your co-workers, especially when it leads them to offer to lend you their brand new bike while they are working. I jumped on the opportunity, especially having been separated from my Bandit for two months already.

My first sitting on the little CBR, I noticed the seat was a little hard on the tush. Then, I leaned over to reach the clip-on handlebars and realized the seat would probably be comfortable as long as my wrists would hold out. Not an overly-aggressive position, but it reminded me why I bought a comfortable, upright machine like the Bandit. But, we were on a small island, and there’s not much to see after the first hour of riding anyway. I had a chance to ride on the back for a few miles, and didn’t like the view from there at all. Bad enough riding ‘bitch’, but the passenger seat is perched so high, it was hard to keep balanced without leaning all the way into the driver. A small grab rail would be a nice alternative to the crappy little leather grab-strap across the seat.

The new bike cranked up easily and settled into a low idle. I backed out of the parking space, and immediately the word “twitchy” came to mind. Once I got off Air Base 4, I headed towards the town of Praia. The roads are small 2-lane cattle-chutes, with stone walls lining the shoulders. Oh, and they don’t just look like cattle chutes; they are cattle chutes! The island is covered with grazing fields surrounded by stone walls built from lava rock. The local cattle-farmers move their herds down the roads to different grazing fields all the time. Between the blind curves, the potholes, and the possibility of cattle herds in the road, only people with a bonafide death-wish would try pushing a racebike here; I wanted to live to update my website. Even with the uneven road surfaces, the CBR handled small bumps and dips very easily, without jarring the rider too much.

I hit the coastal road south from Praia, and railed a little down to Porto Martins. The scenery was beautiful, as it was one of the few sunny days I saw in 4 months on the island. There are very few grazing fields on this section of road, and the open cliff side allowed for some visibility around the corners. A local on a Honda 919 zipped past in the opposite direction, pushing the bike hard on the cow-patty-covered road. The CBR makes some decent power for one-up riding, but only above 6000 rpms. Below that, it feels quite sluggish, but it’s meant to be revved and does so quickly. The low torque was obvious when I’d hit a steep upgrade (lots of them on the island) and would have to downshift, sometimes down two gears to get the revs up into the power range. Maybe I’m just a lazy rider, but I think a great streetbike (as the CBR600 has always been called) should have a little more midrange power. As far as handling, the bike was almost boring - it would turn and stop exactly when, where, and how I wanted it to, without even thinking about it. A good thing, I guess.

Choosing the right bike really depends on how you’re going to use it, and the CBR doesn’t fit my requirements right now. However, it is a sweet-looking, quality sportbike refined for the real-world. As an avid Bandit owner and fan, I found the CBR600 to be low on power until the rpms approach the redline. Would I buy a CBR600? I’ve thought about it. I wouldn’t give up my Bandit for one, but maybe if there was a track nearby… What it seems to lack in power, it makes up for with scalpel-like handling. For street riding, I’d have to keep another bike for all-day riding or sport-touring; the CBR would just be too uncomfortable for my beat-up thirty-something body after an hour or so of riding over the usual bumps and dips of state-maintained roadways. Definitely not a do-it-all bike or a two-up sport-tourer, the CBR has decent power for those that are willing to keep the revs up, and handles like a racebike on the street without excessively abusing the rider on public roads. Definitely worth a look, if it fits your criteria.

In a more peaceful U.S. of A., in the days shortly preceeding September 11, 2001, I joined a pair of online friends for a day-trip to visit the First Annual Delmarva Bike Week near Ocean City, MD. While we did visit the event to see what the hype was about on the first day, September 6th, we didn’t stay long. The hours of riding that followed created what would be a memorable and fitting conclusion to my riding season for 2001, which was cut short due to events that unfolded the following Tuesday.

As we had planned, I met Chris and Earl on Route 50 just east of the Bay Bridge early Thursday morning. The lone ride was a little chilly, and I thought maybe I should have worn an extra layer. After stopping at the Wawa (like a Circle-K or 7-11 for all you folks not living in the northeast) for some hot French Vanilla Cappucino (screw Starbuck’s!), I was ready to press on to the meeting site. I wasn’t exactly sure I had found the right spot, until I saw a silver Bandit looking alot like mine. Earl and I talked Holeshot equipment, and shortly Chris rolled up, giving us something new to look at - his black ‘01 B12N. After a few more minutes of conversation on Holeshot equipment and showing off some minor custom touches we had made to our rides, we rolled out.

We hit MD Route 50 East and immediately fell into a legal-speed staggered formation. A few minutes later, a group of maybe a dozen Harleys slowly rolled up on our left. When they signalled that they wanted to get right, only the first few Hardleys were past us, leaving most of the group alongside. Earl politely slowed and waved the line of rolling thunder past our obviously superior machinery. The last few actually waved thanks to us for letting them over to make their exit. This was to be a taste of what we would see at the Delmarva Bike Week event.

Being the most familiar with that area of Maryland, Earl turned us left off Rt 50 onto another road, which sort of parallels Rt 50 eastward, only this road has some nice 2-lane twisty parts through some quaint little towns. No peg-scraping, we took it easy, especially through the towns. Although, I remember the front end of my bike getting very light as we turned onto a long straightaway bordering open fields. It was a new experience for me to ride with other folks on the same kind of bike - there was no desire to race (”lemme see what your bike can do”) and there was no need to watch the mirrors to make sure we weren’t leaving someone behind. An occaisional sprint was in everyone’s blood, though. It was probably some of the most comfortable, and most enjoyable riding I’ve ever done with a group.

We arrived at the Bike Week festivities around 11am. There were already a few dozen Harleys and a few Japanese-built cruisers lined-up in the open grass field that served as the mass parking lot for visitors. I was amazed that some folks had been able to maneuver their full-dress tourers through the uneven ground. Kindly enough, every visitor was given a small piece of wood (with appropriate sponsor advertising) to put under their kickstand to prevent the domino-effect mass destruction that would ensue should your bike’s stand happen to sink into the soft dirt. The rest of the event didn’t seem as thought-out.

There were a few vendor tents, mostly Harley products and accessories, and a few tents actually selling Harleys. One vendor was showcasing the trike conversion kits for both Harleys and Honda Gold Wings. We spent a few minutes watching a vendor show us how well his aluminum polish works (on soda cans, even). After a quick perusal of the meager selection of vendors, I took the initiative and headed for the concession stands to fill my grumbling belly. Seeing that I didn’t choke and die from the first hot dog, Chris and Earl joined in the early lunch. The selection of food was at least as good as the selection of vendors, and the quality was better than I had expected.

What caught our attention the longest (well, we were still eating) was the dyno trailer. Yup, they brought a single-wide trailer, with a dyno and for $50 US, you could have your bike’s power curve printed out to take home and frame. For an additional $50 they would use the dyno to tune your carbs. $100 for a carb tuning and a dyno chart? No, thanks. It was fun to watch the Harleys on the dyno pull all the way up to a whopping 6,500 rpms. One of many charts posted on the side of the trailer showed that one bike had hit 115 horsepower around 6,000 rpms. Next time, I’ll have the full Holeshot hook-up on my Bandit and we’ll give the dyno a good breaking-in. We spent a while looking around the parking lot at everyone’s rides. There were plenty of custom paint jobs, and a few custom-built machines. We even spotted a Kawasaki ZRX1100 (Z-ReX) in the field. I think the Z-ReX and our Banditos were the only non-cruisers in attendance, though.

The sun had been out all morning and warmed things up alot. By noon it was approaching 80 degrees F, and I was glad that I hadn’t worn an extra layer after all. We decided that we had seen enough of Delmarva Bike Week and it had little to offer the average Bandit rider. So, we scooted out of there before the outlaw-types started showing up for the BBQ. Ocean City, MD was right down the road, and as we leaned onto route 50 once more, the noon-time heat had me fantasizing about bikini-clad young ladies still swarming all over the beach-resort city. We hit Ocean City and parked in the lot at the south end of the boardwalk, which cost us only a dollar each - I’m not sure if it was off-season rates already, or discounted for the Bike Week(end). We spent some time on the boardwalk, Earl enjoying some gourmet popcorn. We talked for a few minutes with a wonderful senior couple selling raffle tickets for some over-priced Harley that nobody in their right mind would actually pay full price for. I bought $10 worth of chances to win it, though.

We re-mounted our steeds and cruised north through Ocean City. I had been there a few times over the summer on day trips by myself, but the Bandit got even more looks this time, with Earl, Chris and I swapping positions from light to light. We refueled before heading further north along the coast to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. A small, more relaxing beach town, Rehoboth Beach seemed a nice place to sit down and eat. We parked on the street (meters everywhere) and sat down to a large pizza and friendly (read: tolerant of us) service.

The ride back to our meeting point took us through more of Delaware’s backroads, passing through Georgetown on our way back to the Bay Bridge. Chris and I rode along to the exit for Interstate 97 and then I was alone again, with only my memories of a great day, and knowledge of some new roads that I could have been riding all summer had I known about them. All in all, I estimated I put on at least 300 miles of fun that day. As weak as the first morning of the actual Delmarva Bike Week event was, we’ll definitely have to give the second one a try in September of 2002, if only for the ride itself.

- (C)2001 J.G.

For official pictures of the 2001 Delmarva Bike Week, and up-to-date news and info on the next annual event, visit www.delmarvabikeweek.com.