Let’s begin at the begining

The faithful companion

The planning had been done, me and a couple friends were going to ride out to the Cabot trail in Nova Scotia. A mix of camping and grabbing hotel rooms and a ferry ride from Bar Harbor. But in the days beforehand both friends backed out. One at least gave me a months heads up, the other dodged the question until the week before. I was pissed. I wasn’t sure how I felt about heading into another country solo, something I now wouldn’t blink an eye at, but back than I thought it was best I stayed in the states. So now I had money set aside for a moto trip and a week off of work, and by hell I was going on a long trip. I could visit family out in Indiana, but that was 2 days of highway either way, not alot of fun. I thought about it and decided, I was going to ride Skyline Drive, the entirety of the Blue Ridge Parkway, and the Mecca for motorcyclists on the east coast; Tail of the Dragon.

I went over the ST4s in the days coming up to the trip. Tread wear was good, no leaks, all the nuts and bolts were tight, no weird noises. I packed my bags and double checked I had everything I thought I’d need. I got home from work that Friday, triple checked I had everything I’d need and headed to my girlfriends to spend the night before I left Saturday morning. I spent the night and in the morning I kissed her goodbye as she left for work, took a shit and headed out into the unknown. I love that feeling you get when you first set out on a trip, the nervous butterflies in your stomach, and knot of anticipation in your gut and the feeling of freedom from just not having anywhere you have to be by a set time. My plan for the day was to ride to Virginia and grab a hotel near the start of skyline drive. I had a tank full of gas and about 500 miles to go.

My first stop was in Guilford Connecticut, turns out I didn’t have a full tank of gas so I turned off I-95 and into a small town to gas up. It was a small stereotypical coastal New England town, white steepled churches with white classical looking buildings, something I won’t be seeing for awhile. After gassing up and grabbing some water from the convenience store a older man approached me and asked about the motorcycle. We got talking about my trip and the ST, a friend of his had sent him an ad for a ST4s and he wanted to know about it’s merits. Turns out this older gentleman rode a Aprilia Tuono V4, I wish I'm that flexible and cool at his age. He said he’s got to get going and wished me luck on my trip. As I was putting my earbuds in he pulled up in his car.

“My wife says you look like Michael Dunlop, do you know who that is?” I didn’t but the name was familiar

“He’s an Irish road racer, you should look him up” Once again we said our goodbyes and set off, as they drove away his wife rolled the window down and said “It’s a compliment”
The rest of the day was uneventful and boring, pretty normal for a day spent on the super slab. I sat in traffic in New York City crossing the George Washington bridge and later a stop in New Jersey for gas, I had forgotten they don’t let you pump your own gas there, and. I had never really been through NYC, I've always routed around it. Well I wasn’t missing anything besides a cramped up clutch hand and now an hour of my life. After a couple anus puckering encounters when I blew by state troopers in Pennsylvania and Delaware are extra legal speeds, I guess a grey bike with hardbags is a bit of a sleeper. I pulled off at a rest stop in Virginia and took a break and called my parents to know I was alive, you know how mothers worry. I talked to them a bit about my plans and where I was headed, they recommended a couple places that I blew off anyways and wished me safe travels. I later arrived at my hotel for the night, a Motel 6 in Winchester, VA. I grabbed dinner at a close by Peruvian chicken place and had an ok chicken burrito and retired to my room for the night. Tomorrow I'd tackle Skyline Drive and start down the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Damn this bridge and it’s god awful traffic