West Virginia Road Trip - Day 4 - Saturday

After we woke up Saturday, Anna's sister Tonya took me, Anna, Ricky and Little Jimmy out for breakfast at Suzi's, which Tonya insisted had better biscuits and gravy than Tudor's. Suzi's looked like a fast food restaurant, although it is not a chain. After tasting Suzi's gravy, Anna and I agreed we liked Tudor's gravy better, although Suzi's biscuits didn't crumble as easily as Tudors. But then again, having been born and raised in New England, I'm not really qualified to be a critic of southern cooking.

Suzi's drew a brisk business, and a wide variety of customers, including some guys in camoflague jackets. "Look, there's a Skoal ring!" Anna said, pointing to the back of some dude waiting in line, where she could see the outline of a can of tobacco worn into the back pocket of his jeans.

On the way back to her house, Tonya accomodated my request for some Krispy Kreme doughnuts, and we got some hot from the oven. These light, airy and sticky-sweet treats practically melt in your mouth! Although Krispy Kremes are all throughout the south, you cannot find one in Rhode Island (and, vice versa, you will not find a Dunkin Donuts in Charleston, W. Va.).

Like many houses in the area, Tonya's house, which is in South Charleston, sits atop a hill overlooking the Kanawha valley. The street to get to her house is extremely steep on one end (it seemed like a 45-degree incline, but it was probably not quite that much). Then, once you park on the street, you have to walk up a steep set of concrete steps to get to the house. A gutted deer hung in the nextdoor neighbor's carport.

Anna and I decided to go home on Saturday, after hearing that highway traffic would be much worse on Sunday. We left at 3 p.m., while we still had some daylight left. Along Interstate 79 in West Virginia, one can see groups of three crosses in the mountains along the highway every so often. They were placed by a West Virginian, Bernard Coffindaffer, who became a Christian at the age of 42 and began putting up the groups of crosses in 1984 (see http://www.christiancrosses.org/). Since there were no leaves on the trees, we could also see where people lived on the sides or tops of the mountains. Some were rundown trailers with winding dirt roads leading up to them; others were luxury houses. But many of these houses were alone, with not a neighbor in sight. I also saw at least three dead deer on the side of the highway.

I don't think there is any significant straightaway on Interstate 79 in West Virginia. I was constantly driving long, sweeping curves either to the left or right. Then, when we got on Interstate 68 and rode into Maryland, we contended with steep grades. The temperature was cold, and there was some snow on the side of the highway. My tires felt skittish, so I slowed my speeds considerably; at a rest stop, I confirmed the road was definitely slick, so I kept my speeds to 45-50 mph. Going down a steep grade is worse than going up - I felt like I was descending into an abyss, and doing it on an icy road only intensified the white-knuckle experience. (Later, I noticed that my black car had the telltale white residue of road salt.)

Fortunately, though, the roads dried up after about 20 minutes of driving, so I could relax a bit. Once near Hagerstown, Md., the highway flattens out, and it was smooth sailing through the rest of the states. We stopped at the same highway service area off Interstate 78 in Pennsylvania where we had stopped on the way up. At the McDonald's there, three members of the Hell's Angels from South Carolina saw the writing on Anna's hooded sweatshirt that said Federal Hill, Providence, R.I., and told her they had just been in Providence to pay their respects to a brother who had passed away.

After a quick dinner and gassing up the car, we were back on the road. Traffic was relatively light. We went back the same way we came, but it seemed like we were in New Jersey forever, so I had to pull over for a map check. I was on course alright. After crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge in New York, we were soon in Connecticut. After we stopped at a highway service area in Fairfield, Conn., I let Anna drive the rest of the way home. We arrived home an hour or two before daybreak.

I'd like to visit West Virginia again, preferably in the summer, but definitely not in the winter - the roads are difficult enough in dry weather. Anna can't see me living in West Virginia. "My baby don't like the mountains," she teases me.

Highway Hogs ... and, a HBHB First ... Video!

As a biker, how many times have you wished you didn't have to share the road with cars or trucks? Well, Anna and I enjoyed that rare opportunity Sunday, when we rode in the Rhode Island Motorcycle Association's 2010 Toys for Tots run. Traffic was completely blocked off on major state and interstate highways, as more than 1,000 motorcycles made their way from the Community College of Rhode Island in Lincoln, to Shipyard Steet near the Port of Providence. It was the largest motorcycle run either of us have ridden in so far.

It was also the first time Anna got to use her new digital video camera (NOTE: you can see a short video clip at the end of this blog entry), which I bought her for her birthday. "There's a million motorcycles on the highway, baby," Anna said as she aimed the video camera behind us on Interstate 295, capturing a stream of motorcycle headlights against the grey sky as far as we could see.

Actually, it only seemed like a million motorcycles.

"We'll get about 2,000 to 2,500 bikes," RIMA President Buddy Cardoso told me before the run. "When we get down there (to Russo's Trucking on Shipyard Street), there will already be a bunch of people who didn't go on the ride."

This was RIMA'S 34th annual Toys for Tots run, which is also sponsored by the U.S. Marines, who collected the toys at the end of the run. The route was changed recently, Cardoso said. "This is the third year we've done a little longer ride, to make it a little more interesting, versus just shooting right down Route 146."

Chris, a guy I used to work with, who rides a Suzuki GSX-R1000 sport bike, said he went on the run a few years back and saw some other riders take advantage of no traffic on Route 146, riding at speeds approaching 100 mph and doing wheelies.

My experience was much more sedate, however. The group we rode to CCRI with, comprised of three chapters from the Christian Motorcyclists Association, was in the second wave to be released, so we were toward the front of the pack - close enough that I could see Santa riding on the back of a motorcycle. With police or civilian motorcyclists blocking at every intersection, we never put our feet down until we reached our destination, although our average speed varied between 30 and 40 mph, and even our highway speed never broke 55 mph, as I recall. I didn't witness any shenanigans, but at the end of the ride, rumors buzzed through the crowds that there had been at least one mishap during the run, including a rumor that a rider lost control while doing a wheelie with a female passenger.

I could not confirm that rumor, and the only official account of any accident I could find online was through WPRI.com (affiliated with local news Channel 12). According to WPRI.com, an accident occurred on I-295 south, near Exit 8 (the Route 7 exit), when a motorcyclist on the toy run swerved to avoid a crash and ran into four other motorcycles. Two people were taken to a hospital; others declined treatment, according to the report, which contained no further information.

Anna and I, however, had a pleasant experience, and we felt the run was well organized. The run started with a left turn on Route 246 and then continued on routes 123, 116 and 7, before we got on Intersate 295 south. It was quite a sight to see cars held back from entering the highway as we rode by, and onlookers at many bridge overpasses. We then took Route 6 to Route 10 south, before getting on Interstate 95 briefly, exiting at Allens Avenue. There was some of the 'slinky effect,' but that is to be expected on large group rides.

We rode through the campus of Johnson & Wales University before parking our bikes along Shipyard Street, and then handed our toys to the Marines, who were putting them into their large truck. Anna had bought some Legos, and I bought a Barbie doll. I figured that since bikers tend to be macho, girls' toys might be under-represented; besides, every time I tell someone my name is Ken, there's usually a 10 percent chance they'll say, "How's Barbie?"

The day was also eventful for Richard "Pappy" Desjarlais, another CMA member from my Romans 8 Riders chapter, who spent part of the run videotaping the riders. He said he stopped at the Route 44 overpass after getting permission from a Smithfield police officer. Then, Pappy said, someone in an unmarked car told him to move out of the way, to which Pappy replied that he was almost done recording. A moment later, he felt someone grab his collar, and he was handcuffed by a state police officer, he said. "That just about ruined my day," Pappy said. But, he was quickly released, and joined us at our CMA booth at the truck yard.

Anna was amazed the sheer volume of motorcycles and bikers at the trucking yard, where there was a rock band, food vendors and clothing vendors. "I'm over-stimulated," she admitted, as she grooved on a cover of The Doors song while on a mission to find a hat. The clam chowder and clamcakes we ate warded off the chill nicely. Our CMA booth, which had literature about Jesus, Bibles and even kickstand pads, drew little attention, to Anna's dismay. "Other booths, you have to buy stuff, but everything here is free," she said.


But my fellow Romans 8 Rider, Bob Levesque, said it was a positive day, since our CMA chapters were given a reserved spot closer to the front of the pack this year, and our booth was in a prominent spot.

Run for the Son Ride to Living Stone

To say I was excited about the Christian Motorcyclists Association's annual Run for the Son ride this year was an understatement. Anticipation for the run, which was Saturday, began about mid-week, when I saw the weather was supposed to be sunny and in the 70s. Even better news - my girlfriend, Anna, got a babysitter for her son, so she would be able to ride with me! On Friday, I got my bike ready: I washed it, gave the tins a quick polish and installed a luggage rack and roll bag, which would be perfect for a day trip. I also packed a lunch and essentials like sunscreen, digital camera and handy wipes.

This time, I was actually prepared the morning of the ride and was able to just hop on the bike without the stress of wondering if I would forget to bring something, or if I would be late. I rode to the commuter parking lot on Route 102 in North Kingstown, where Anna was waiting, and we were joined by my CMA/Romans 8 Riders brother Duke for the ride up to our first rendezvous point, the Dunkin Donuts at routes 6 and 102 in Scituate. This would be Anna's first time riding on the highway, but it was smooth sailing since traffic was light on the highway around 8:30 a.m.

In Scituate, we stopped for gas and coffee, and joined nine other Romans 8 Riders, plus a few guests. From there, we rode into nearby Connecticut to rendezvous with CMA members from the Healing Light chapter, plus a few more guests. By this time, around 10:30, the weather was warm enough for me to shed my leather jacket. Healing Light president Stan Winman gave a safety briefing before the ride. Since this was the first big group ride of the season, Stan urged riders to be extra careful because they might be a bit rusty from having not ridden since last year (actually, he used the term "cobwebs"). There were a few glitches early into the ride - the rider in front of me stalled his bike, forcing me to stop short. Another rider in the group disrupted the pack a short time later. After he caught up to us at a light, he said he had problems putting his bike into first gear.

Eventually, things settled down a bit, although it seemed that at least one of the guest riders had little experience riding in a large group. We CMA riders always ride in a two-row, staggered formation, but one of the guest riders in front of me rode smack in the middle of the lane.

Our destination for the ride was the Living Stone Foundation in Leominster, Mass. Most of our route consisted of secondary roads through small towns and villages, although to get through Worcester, we rode on Interstate 290. Riding highways through cities is some of the most challenging (and dangerous) riding motorcyclists will face, especially in a group. Cars exiting or entering the highway often cut into or through the pack, and at one point, I was glad I had the power of a Big Twin Harley to catch up to the other riders who had gotten separated from us. We even had a female motorcyclist (in full leathers) cut through our pack, which was a first experience for me. What's worse, this motorcyclist lost several papers from one of her saddlebags. It was like riding through rather large confetti. Then I saw a pencil fly out of her bag and roll onto the highway as she crossed in front of me. Math was never my best subject in school, but I'm pretty sure a number 2 pencil, plus my skinny 21" front wheel at 60 mph on a curve, equals a good recipe for disaster. Fortunately, my tire missed the pencil, and that woman made her exit. We were back on secondary roads for the remainder of the way, with only one extremely sharp curve, immediately followed by a very steep hill, to keep us on our toes.

To me, the Living Stone Foundation is like a piece of heaven tucked into the woods. It is the home of Bob Tellier, who retired from a teaching career in 1981 and, while building a stone fireplace and chimney on his house over the next few years, had a spiritual experience and became a born-again Christian.

"My mission is to carve the Word of God in stone," Tellier told our group after we arrived. "This is about one man - Jesus." Tellier hired a monument maker to help with his first project, and had the man teach him the art of stone carving

After visiting Jerusalem in 1987, Tellier began construction on his next big project - an elaborate stone structure, which he called a temple, dedicated to Jesus Christ. A giant stone pillar was erected next to the temple in 2001. Dozens of smaller stones carved with Scripture from both old and new testaments in the Bible, line a wooded trail behind the property, which became a nonprofit organization in 2000.

According to the foundation's web site, 90 percent of the stones are quarry rejects. "There's no way I could afford to buy this stone," Tellier said, adding that God has also provided him with the resources to transport the stones.

Our group walked the grounds, took photos and enjoyed a peaceful retreat. On the way back from Living Stone, the group split up. Some rode to a restaurant for a late lunch/early dinner, while others rode home. Anna and I rode back with Pastor Joe and his wife, Petra. We stopped for gas in Webster, Mass., and then Joe's motorcycle, a 1992 Harley FXR, would not start. Another small group of motorcyclists tried to help us, and after attempts to push-start the FXR didn't work, a gas station employee got a booster cable set with battery pack. Joe found a loose battery cable, and after tightening the cable, the jump-start worked and we were back on the road. We followed Joe and Petra into northwestern Rhode Island through many secondary country roads, which was a much-welcome break from the hair-raising highway riding earlier.