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Toronto Rally 99 Ride Report by Darrell Newcomb
Toronto Rally 99 Ride Report
28 May:
I'm running to meet the schedule. I'm loading the bike and making those last minute adjustments. I hook up the cell phone, push it out of the garage, mount up, hit the starter and . . . nothing. Darn! Ever since I used the aux fuse line for the phone I've been having these troubles. I get off, open up the fusebox and, muttering under my breath, start jiggling fuses. At last, the starter engages. I give the family a last hug then I'm off to the corner gas station for a tank full. I depart Vienna, head down 66 and onto 50 to meet Dave Hill at Anita's, a Mexican restaurant. Dave likes to start the day with a breakfast burrito but he has been getting antsy with my tardiness.
We mount up and begin our trek north. Waiting at a light prior to the Greenway, a local tollroad, my bike dies. Double darn! I push it to the center median, and get ready to dismount and work the fuse problem, but the starter catches again. Dave asks if I want to stop and look it over, but I'm feeling lucky, and I say no. I'm thinking, any further delays and we'll miss our rendezvous with Steve, Will and Chris.
I do a mental troubleshoot, and figure that when I put on the tank bag, I threaded the strap under the tank, under the frame, and maybe it is pulling on the wiring harness enough to cause the occasional disconnect. I figure on going as far as I can as is.
We make good time, pass Leesburg, then pick up 15. We refuel just inside PA and continue on to Harrisburg. Traffic on 15 is never fast, but traffic is moving about as good as ever. But soon we hit a backup, as road construction has things stopped. Ever mindful of the schedule, I ponder jumping off 15 onto some backroads, having done this once before. But we creep past the turnoff and are now committed. Fortunately this is only a short delay and we're on our way again.
I keep monitoring our progress and figure we should be right on schedule barring any future delays. We make good time through Sunbury and Selinsgrove and now are opening the throttle. I see a sign advertising Clyde Peeling's Reptile Ranch and the sight of that brings a smile to me - we're almost there. We pass under I-80 and I begin looking for it. Sure enough, there it is, four miles north of 80, and there is Steve, Will and Chris waiting for us in the parking lot.
Dave and I pull in and exchange a bunch of handshakes and hellos. After a bit of reacquainting, I propose lunch at Fry's Turkey Ranch, about 20 minutes north of Williamsport. We hit the head, then we're on the road. I lead the way, knowing all the idiosyncrasies of getting through Williamsport. We're soon north of the city and in less than an hour we pull into Fry's for fuel and lunch. Fry's sits on top a large hill in the mountains and is always a welcome sight. We gas up then head in for lunch. As we scan the menu, Steve opines that turkey has something in it that makes you drowsy, so we opt for beef. The banter is friendly as the bond we developed from last fall's XSEast continues to grow and it feels like we've been together for more ages.
With lunch complete, we hit the road again. Here, 15 is a four lane highway running through the mountains. At several points it returns to one lane each way. At such a stretch we encounter slower traffic and queue up to pass. Dave zips out first, then I follow. I'm thinking, what's that big semi doing coming my way in my lane. I realize that we're two-way now, and figure maybe I ought to get out of that truck's path. I guess the beef has, too, slowed my thinking.
South of Mansfield, we begin a long, steady climb, and to our left a reservoir opens. As we continue we see the dam, and can look out over the valley at the town of Liberty. A truly scenic view.
The clock is running as we enter NY and so are we. Traffic on rte 17, the Southern Tier Expressway, is moving along nicely, so we continue to make time. Steve needs to stop at a Mobil station so he can use his Mobil card. We find one at Bath, refuel, take a break and enjoy a soda.
We stop again within an hour at Geneseo, to make a head call, and for me to brief the route along 20A. 20A runs due west to Buffalo through NY farm country. We make pretty good time, but the farm traffic turning on and off 20A and some just moseying along, slows us down.
Soon we're in E Aurora where we stop off at my in-laws to say hello. We pull in and line up our bikes neatly in the driveway. My father-in-law, Don Reidy, comes out with all the noise and welcomes us in. He says its rush hour in Buffalo, if you can call it that, and suggests we stay for dinner. Dave and I have been on the road 10 hours now, Steve longer, so that's an offer not to be refused. Peg Reidy has a fridge stocked with refreshments, so we enjoy a beer and lemonade. While the hot dogs grill on the barbie we linger and relax. We discuss our route to Toronto, then get ready to leave. As we mount up Don grabs his Windex and offers us a squirt to wipe down each of our visors.
We refuel in E Aurora, then pick up 400 to Buffalo. Knowing this is heavily patrolled and enforced, I take it easy and when Dave starts to pull ahead I wave him back. Of course there's not a cop to be seen. We hit I-90, then I-190 through Buffalo to the Peace Bridge. The line is relatively short at customs though the officials have to discuss among themselves whether they'd allow anymore XS11's into Canada that day. They ask us some perfunctory questions like "How long are you staying?", "What is your favorite colour?", "Do you like spam?", and "How far can a swallow fly with a coconut?" They single out Chris with his British accent and made him sing "God Save The Queen" and do a silly walk to confirm his heritage. We finally clear customs and inch over to the cambio to get our loonies and toonies.
Dusk descends as we head north on the QEW. I'm in lead going about 70, when Dave zooms ahead, implying enough of this nonsense and racks it up to 80+. This appears to be the median speed on the QEW. And we must be making time because the distance numbers on the signs are really clicking down. Ah, that's right, this is Canada, metric and all that - gotta do the mental conversion of miles to klics.
Traffic is fast and aggressive. With nightfall, I appreciate Steve Pratel's "I'll send you to heaven!" Car Vaporizer. These are two little headlight augments mounted on his fairing just below his main. He'd activate them lighting up the area just forward of Visitation, and vaporize any car encroaching on his lane. A handy little item to have and Steve makes good use of it. (You can see these in the photo "Will Jones and Black Beauty", mvc-005s.jpg, on the shared page. Visitation is on the right.)
We soon approach the environs of Toronto and sight the CN tower. (I've a t-shirt with that on it.) Almost there! We spot the exit for Jarvis St and begin looking for Gerraud. There it is! We make a left and look for the Neill-Wycik. At the end of the block we realize we missed it and have to go around again. Ah, there it is. We park in a tow away zone and check in. With the paperwork done its around the block one more time to the parking garage.
We pull in and begin parking four bikes to a space. As I maneuver mine back and forth, I stand in an oil spot, lose my balance, and the bike goes over. How embarrassing. I'm quickly assisted with getting my bike vertical, and after a few snickers, finally get it parked. We download the bikes, and after searching for the rear access, we haul our stuff into the lobby. There, we find four elevators about the size of a closet each, but we manage to cram in there with our gear along with some other guests. At the 14th floor we bail out and make our way to our rooms. There we are meet by other xssives, and more introductions and hellos are made. I am a wiped puppy at this point and sorry, I don't remember who is there then. We find our individual cells, dump our stuff and decide a little refreshment is in order.
The local groceries don't carry beer so we begin our search for the Beer Store. As we walk along Gerraud, it's soon apparent that this isn't the best part of town. There are many friendly, approachable girls out, but they must be poor because they have little on in the way of clothes. Anyway our Beer Store is closed so we hit the Fueling Station, a nightclub across from the hostel. There we consume several pitchers and Steve allegedly hears us tell him to wake us up at 7:00 the next morning. This is significant because we stumble in about 3:00 and I hit the rack for a nice, long slumber.
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29 May:
I'm asleep still in a fog when a "Bam, Bam, Bam, wake up" shatters my somnolence. What is this, freaking boot camp? Someone is about to get strangled. Steve is up and about chipper as can be and when he sees my demeanor, he says "You guys said you wanted to get up at 7:00." I sure don't remember any such discussion, but the shower is open so maybe that'll wake me up.
It doesn't but by now the group is emerging and its time for breakfast. Down to the lobby for french toast and sausage, back up to the room to get our gear, back down to the lobby to head to the parking garage and make preparations for our ride to the yacht basin. Will, as usual is polishing his bike and the oil can is passed around to top off the thirstier XS11s. I add a dollop to mine then we begin to warm-up the motors. Seldom is heard, that number of XS11s rumbling at once.
We formate outside the garage then begin our trek to AYC. As I'm riding down the street I have this nagging doubt that I didn't put my filler cap. In middle of the back on a city street is not the time to look, so I wait till we hit the light, look down, and sure enough the cap is missing. Darn! I peel off from the formation and head back to the garage, and there it is on the pavement by the garage. I screw it back in then check the directions to the yacht club. I figure I have them down and off I go, solo through downtown Toronto on a bright Saturday morning.
I soon arrive at the yacht club and park with the other some 20 bikes. We meet the remaining Xssives staying at other locales and a big gabfest begins along with some wrenching. The cameras come out and picture are taken left and right.
Bill Kingson, shows me the badges he had cast. He sanded down one and buffed it up. For $10 they look like a pretty good solution to the emblem problem.
There's some minor wrenching going on. Kurt Steinhoff has a seized brake caliper that won't get fixed anytime soon, and Mike Cummings is tweaking his carburetors, something about some popping when he rolls off the throttle.
The sun is rising, temperature are climbing and its time to get moving. With that many bikes and all the conversation going on, its real tough to get a consensus and get moving. Now, I know why Congress never gets anything done. A plan is agreed upon, where we'll ride out to Zdeno's boneyard. Ron Lyman agrees to lead and we all make it around the corner to the nearest gas station. Seeing that we're a few bikes shy, Ron roars off not to be seen again. We draft Phil to lead us on his 650 special, figuring Ron, having been briefed the route, will catch up.
We head southwest out of Toronto and soon get on some backroads for what I expect to be a thrilling ride. The speed limit varies between 50-60 kph, and Phil is observing these limits. I notice there are a fair amount of police about.
We proceed on a tour of all the stop signs in the region, and I agree that they'll all red with white trim, octagonal, and say "Stop." C'mon Phi, when are you going to open it up? When we e reach one, long straight away, that's relatively remote I pull out of the pack and open the throttle. I pull away quickly and push it up to 80+, slow as I near the crest, do a scan for police, then open it up again. Upon reaching the next stop sign, I hold up and let the rest of the pack catch up.
With the heat and stop signs, its soon time for a break. We stop and a smaller ville and break for lunch. I'm still tired from my early rising, thanks Steve, so after a slice of pizza I crash under a tree. You can see the photos of a beached yellow beluga under a tree on the shared files section.
Somewhat refreshed, we continue our trek to Zdeno's and soon reach it. Talk about XS heaven, the back lot is full of rice burner carcasses, and the warehouse is stacked high with piles of parts. I pick up a headlight with the H4 bulb that may possibly fit my bike, and a valve cover laying in the dirt just crying for attention. I purchase both then we wander about the place for an hour until closing, 4:00PM, and then decide what to do next. Some decide to continue on to a local gorge, most decide to return to Toronto.
Dave ends up leading, and we take the expressways back to Toronto. On 401, we're doing around 80, mph that is, when we pass by a rest stop. I notice a cop sitting by the acceleration lane and figure we've been caught. I roll off the throttle and look for his lights but he doesn't move. I guess 80 is average on this road.
We continue on in the left lane. As we crest a rise, what lays ahead put a posse of Harleys in the right lane. Dave increases speed then shifts to the middle lane. As we zoom by, I hoping we don't get a rise out of them as there are more of them than us. Having dissed the HDs, Dave pulls back into the left lane.
We pass Toronto Intl, and with traffic thickening, get in the middle lane. We're still making time when a purple BMW car blows by us on the left going at least a 100. He very quickly disappears over a rise. About only a mile later we find ourselves in a huge backup. It's stop and go and very warm. As we inch along, we hear a siren and soon an ambulance the size of a bus, boy they grow 'em big here, screams by followed by a second, regular sized ambulance. Taking an opportunity when he sees it, Steve jumps into trail before the cars close back in and now we're . . . ambulance chasing. Steve is doing some great scolding of anyone encroaching on his space. He'll beep his horn a few times then wag his finger at the offender. To bad it wasn't night time, he could use his Car Vaporizer and blaze a path for us.
However we pause a bit too long and the traffic closes in front of us like the Red Sea in the "Ten Commandments". We're abreast an exit ramp so I beep the horn and pull off, figuring we can make better time on the city streets. Chris is arguing vociferously to continue on the expressway, so Steve, Chris and I make a left to conjure this. Steve asks a few passersby which way to downtown. They point ahead to the road down the road so that settles it for me - city streets. Chris joins up with Dave, who was ahead of us and they decide to turn left, while Steve, Will and I continue on. We're working our way downtown, but in fact we skirt all the way around center city but we eventually reach the hostel. Dave and Chris arrive several minutes later.
I decide a quick shower is in order than catch a quick nap prior to dinner. With the riding done we look for a steakhouse but decide on a Muggsies, sort of like a TGIF. The beer is cold and the service is slow but the beer is cold. Hours later with dinner complete we break up in groups before heading back to the hostel for some needed sleep. No 7:00AM wakeups!
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30 May:
I rise at a decent hour, 8:00, and soon most everyone else is up. After breakfast, it's a quick ride over to the yacht club to sort out activities for the day. Upon arrival, Will discovers he has overfilled Black Beauty and is figuring a good way to get the oil level down to maximum. Kurt finally fetches an oil pan, and Will proves that oil doesn't overly stain a Toronto t-shirt.
The decision is made to reconvene at the yacht club at 5:00, for the evening's barbecue and virtual toast. Bart volunteers to pick up some vittles so we through a few dollars and loonies his way. For the afternoon agenda a few decide to go to Niagara Falls. Chris, Dave, Steve and Will and I opt to stay off the bike for the day and take a walk around Toronto. Mike Cummings and Namon prepare to return home so hands are shaken before they depart. When everyone else finally figures out what they're doing we begin our ride back to the hostel along the waterfront. We stop for photos in front of the stadium and CN tower, and happen to meet the Grangers and Kriegers who are on foot. As we mount up to ride off, Dave discovers that his starter button is missing. We scour the area and Chris comes up with the button, but Dave still has to figure how to work around this problem, but finds and key inserted in the starter does the job. Back at Neill-Wycik we BS for a bit then head out to the CN tower on foot. It's a nice leisurely walk with a stop for some hot dogs. Then its on to the tower. Seeing the $20 ticket price, Steve declines to go up but we agree to meet later that afternoon. The ride up in a glass-faced elevator is impressive, ascending at 15mph Canadian, and the view from a thousand feet up is great.
As we walk around the observation deck we notice the Blue Jays stadium far belwo. Looking down we see the Yankees-Blue Jays game in progress. Looks like a video game. I see the pitcher throw the ball but from the distance I can't see it travel. I see the batter swing and from the reaction of the outfielders, that must be a strike, an out and an inning. The players running off the field look just like those in the video games.
We want to go up to the Skypod which is another 500 feet up. However, there is a long line, so we instead go down to the level below to stand on the glass floor and walk around the exterior platform. The platform is fully enclosed with mesh to prevent spitters and jumpers. We get our pics then take the elevator back down to meet Steve. We browse the CN Tower store, buy the obligatory souvenirs then began our walk back.
On one of the streets we come across a TV shoot, for "Relic Hunting" or something like that. It's in front of the Roxbury Hotel, and they've two taxicabs with Chicago references on them so I suppose that its supposed to take place in Chicago. Must be a lot of Ontario visitors. The whole effort is devoted to a couple coming up in a taxicab and going into the hotel. I don't think I 'd have the patience for that sort of work. However as we sit there, Dave makes nice to one of the blonde extras that is a driver. I think she is better looking than the actress.
Anyway the shot is over, so we head back to the hostel. We just kind of mellow out sitting and talking and sitting. We suggest to Bob Canel that he use the text he used last year for the virtual toast, change the place references, and nobody would be the wiser. Some time is spent examining that thought. Finally 6:00 rolls around and we figure we should be getting on to the yacht club for the barbecue. We arrive just in time for the steaks to come off the grill. With beer and steak I enjoy the company of this august company for this one last meal for soon we will be leaving for home.
With the dinner finished, and 7:00 approaching, Jim Hamilton leads us in the virtual toast to all Xssives everywhere with the last of the beer. (For text of the toast, see Bob Canel's commentary from last year.)
Bill Kingson, Joe and John begin loading their bikes on their trailer for an evening departure, so we observe this procedure. Having done no tech tips for the weekend, Jim Hamjam shows the assembled masses his homebuilt carb synchronizer. The issue of Flitz vs Rolo polish is raised, and I volunteer my bike for the polish off. After much buffing I can't tell that one is any better than the other though I do have a few more pieces of aluminum polished, courtesy of Bart Krieger, who really enjoys this task.
Jim has been agitating all weekend for us to get over to his neighbor's house, his neighbor a former XS owner, so he can see what real, live XSs look like. Jim says its only 15 minutes away so a number of us decide to head over. We follow Jim driving his minivan. 15 minutes in Canada seems like 30 minutes elsewhere, but its Sunday evening, traffic is light and the ride in enjoyable. At one light Chris and I are abreast, and with the light changing green, it's a race. Chris gets the jump with the green, but I'm right behind him. I must admit that Chris is the victor. But we both get a chuckle out of youthful indiscretion.
By the way, what do those flashing green lights mean in Canada?
We arrive at Jim's and wait patiently as he pulls his XS out of the garage. Then it's around the block to his pal's house, where Jim has to roust him out of bed so he can marvel at our bikes. It's nearly 10 and quite dark so its difficult to see much. But he is appreciative and relates the story of his XS. (Correct me on the details, Hamjam.)
Seems he had an XS11 with a pearl white finish, much like Visitation. He rode it for quite a few years. As with most of them, some problems developed, so he put it up out back under a tarp next to his shed. A year or so passed and he got the urge to check on his XS. Out he goes to the shed, lifts the tarp, and finds a rake in its place propping the tarp up. What gives, he asks his wife. She smiled and said that for his birthday, she had a bike shop come out, pick it up and restore it for about $2K. Delighted, he rode it another year or so then let his 16 year old nephew have it, out on the farm, with the understanding that he could ride it now and then. A bit later, when he got out to the farm, he found his nephew had spray painted the entire bike with a flat black. A little later he learned that he swapped it for a 750. Moral of the story: Not all of us appreciate the beauty and design of our wonderful XS11s.
As it's late and we intend to leave early on the morrow, we say our goodbyes and head for a local gas station for a fill up. Jim serves as pathfinder, riding with us until we get on Gerraud. From here we can find our way home easily. This last stretch of Gerraud is rather interesting. We pass through several ethnic neighborhoods; Indian, Chinese,and Latino. With each neighborhood, I smell the unique aromas of the spices they use in their respective menus.
We arrive at the hostel and make preparation to leave in the morning.
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31 May:
The plan is to get on the road by 8:00, but with breakfast, photos and checkout, it's more like 9:00. Most of us are of the same mind: "I'm to tired, I don't want to do this." But I figure, when the weariness is past all you'll remember are the good times.
After Dave finishes taping on his start button the six of us, Bob Canel, Chris, Dave, Steve, Will, and Darrell, shake hands in the parking garage at Neill-Wycik. I offer Will some oil to overfill his crankcase but he graciously declines. We fire up our bikes and then head out together. After saying goodbye to Dave's future wife, we travel on down Jarvis to pickup the Gardiner Expressway. We say g'bye to Chris as he turns left to head east towards Montreal. The five of us turn right to cruise down the Gardiner towards the US of A. About 15 miles out of Toronto, Bob peels off onto 401 so now there are four.
We make pretty good time, there on the QEW with only two short backups. After an hour we reach Niagara-on-the-Lake, a very well kept parkway, and motor on down to the falls. Disregarding Bob's hints for parking we choose to park right in front of police headquarters in the tow-away zone, I am paranoid our bikes will be dragged away by ever vigilant tow trucks. A police cruiser heading out just gives us a wave so we are probably good for a few minutes. We get our obligatory falls photos then return to our rides. The four of us repeat our goodbyes and, with a certain reluctance and sadness, shake hands one more time - XS Toronto is fast becoming history.
The Whirlpool Bridge seems to have the least congestion so we backtrack there to cross to the US. Clearing customs is no problem, though there is no Bank of Canada to collect our GST refund. Steve passes us some last minute directions then we all head south. Steve and Will part company and head for the thruway, while Dave and I decide to take the western PA route home. Traffic is light through Buffalo, but soon we are on Rte 219, a very boring interstate like road with nothing on it. The dullness of this road is getting to us so after an hour we pull off in Hamburg to get a hamburger. In a scene that repeats itself throughout the day, in the many villages and towns we passed through, nothing is open but gas stations. Towns seemed like ghost towns. Few people were up and about and there is little traffic.
We press on. Near PA , 219 becomes two lane and a little more interesting though it isn't until we cross Rte 6 that 219 develops some good twisties. However, Dave and I are feeling the heat and the fatigue. In the slow speed zones we stand on our pegs trying to cool our kiesters off. At this point, my butt is killing me and the trip can't be over soon enough. Finally giving in to the weariness we pull into a Sheetz for some gas and refreshment. Reviewing the map over a sandwich, we chose a route sans interstate. 219 to 869 to 36 to 26.
Feeling refreshed, our new route proves to be very challenging and invigorating, with little traffic and lotsa twisties. Saw a squirrel stealing across the road catch his tail on Dave's back wheel. Did a flip then scurried off. Probably crawled off and died off a heart attack.
869 proves to be a real thrill, though the route through the Blue Knob area looks ripe with loose gravel so we moderate our speed accordingly. We pull off at a state picnic area, to enjoy the solitude and stretch our legs. Very quite and few vehicles pass by.
We remount for further adventure and found some right after crossing I-99. 869 climbs a mountain, then comes slaloming down the other side dumping off into a large valley. We are flying through farm country and with the setting sun at our backs we can see our shadows in the reddening light. Pretty kewl.
Near Breezewood we decide to take 26 to 522 crossing the Potomac. 26 has no traffic, many challenging turns and a lot of nice scenery. After shooting a set of twisties cautioned as 10 mph, I beep Dave to stop and ask him how fast he thought he could shoot them with practice. "Not too fast," he responds, meaning something less than 80. After 40 minutes on this road, we catch the access ramp to I-68 and a brief high speed run to the turnoff for Rte 522. Dusk has fallen and I'm thinking, "Man, are we almost there yet?" The 869-26 routing is the most refreshing of the whole trip, but my enthusiasm is fading and ennui starts to return.
The last leg on Rte 9 through WVA is arduous. I'm ready to pull in the driveway now! Dave says it'll be another two hours yet. Darn! With darkness falling, the bugs on the windshield make it difficult to see in the glare of the headlights. We stop frequently to clear the visors and Dave's allergies are really bothering his eyes.
We're finally outbound from Leesburg on Rte 7 I make the decision to just press on down 7 as it is late and traffic is light. I even catch most of the lights, which is difficult to do normally. I soon reach Tysons Corner and turn into a Crown station, I've been running on reserve since about 10 miles back. After I top off I catch my turn for Vienna. After nearly 14 hours and 560 miles, I reach the end of my journey. My wife, Karen, though pissed I didn't call from Toronto, (but then I is on my time isn't I), is still happy to see me. The next morning the kids bound into bed, though I'm still dog tired.
It is a thrill to meet old friends and new ones and yet put more names to web personas. This periodic meeting of xsessive could become habit forming!. However, I think in the future, I'll keep weekend trips to under 400 miles one way. This butt-burner stuff is not for me.
The reverie of the weekend and the long hours enroute gave me pause to reflect on my life, to appreciate the many blessings I have received, and to consider reordering my priorities. One needs to step back from the hustle and bustle now and then to appreciate the forest and this has been a perfect opportunity.
28 May:
I'm running to meet the schedule. I'm loading the bike and making those last minute adjustments. I hook up the cell phone, push it out of the garage, mount up, hit the starter and . . . nothing. Darn! Ever since I used the aux fuse line for the phone I've been having these troubles. I get off, open up the fusebox and, muttering under my breath, start jiggling fuses. At last, the starter engages. I give the family a last hug then I'm off to the corner gas station for a tank full. I depart Vienna, head down 66 and onto 50 to meet Dave Hill at Anita's, a Mexican restaurant. Dave likes to start the day with a breakfast burrito but he has been getting antsy with my tardiness.
We mount up and begin our trek north. Waiting at a light prior to the Greenway, a local tollroad, my bike dies. Double darn! I push it to the center median, and get ready to dismount and work the fuse problem, but the starter catches again. Dave asks if I want to stop and look it over, but I'm feeling lucky, and I say no. I'm thinking, any further delays and we'll miss our rendezvous with Steve, Will and Chris.
I do a mental troubleshoot, and figure that when I put on the tank bag, I threaded the strap under the tank, under the frame, and maybe it is pulling on the wiring harness enough to cause the occasional disconnect. I figure on going as far as I can as is.
We make good time, pass Leesburg, then pick up 15. We refuel just inside PA and continue on to Harrisburg. Traffic on 15 is never fast, but traffic is moving about as good as ever. But soon we hit a backup, as road construction has things stopped. Ever mindful of the schedule, I ponder jumping off 15 onto some backroads, having done this once before. But we creep past the turnoff and are now committed. Fortunately this is only a short delay and we're on our way again.
I keep monitoring our progress and figure we should be right on schedule barring any future delays. We make good time through Sunbury and Selinsgrove and now are opening the throttle. I see a sign advertising Clyde Peeling's Reptile Ranch and the sight of that brings a smile to me - we're almost there. We pass under I-80 and I begin looking for it. Sure enough, there it is, four miles north of 80, and there is Steve, Will and Chris waiting for us in the parking lot.
Dave and I pull in and exchange a bunch of handshakes and hellos. After a bit of reacquainting, I propose lunch at Fry's Turkey Ranch, about 20 minutes north of Williamsport. We hit the head, then we're on the road. I lead the way, knowing all the idiosyncrasies of getting through Williamsport. We're soon north of the city and in less than an hour we pull into Fry's for fuel and lunch. Fry's sits on top a large hill in the mountains and is always a welcome sight. We gas up then head in for lunch. As we scan the menu, Steve opines that turkey has something in it that makes you drowsy, so we opt for beef. The banter is friendly as the bond we developed from last fall's XSEast continues to grow and it feels like we've been together for more ages.
With lunch complete, we hit the road again. Here, 15 is a four lane highway running through the mountains. At several points it returns to one lane each way. At such a stretch we encounter slower traffic and queue up to pass. Dave zips out first, then I follow. I'm thinking, what's that big semi doing coming my way in my lane. I realize that we're two-way now, and figure maybe I ought to get out of that truck's path. I guess the beef has, too, slowed my thinking.
South of Mansfield, we begin a long, steady climb, and to our left a reservoir opens. As we continue we see the dam, and can look out over the valley at the town of Liberty. A truly scenic view.
The clock is running as we enter NY and so are we. Traffic on rte 17, the Southern Tier Expressway, is moving along nicely, so we continue to make time. Steve needs to stop at a Mobil station so he can use his Mobil card. We find one at Bath, refuel, take a break and enjoy a soda.
We stop again within an hour at Geneseo, to make a head call, and for me to brief the route along 20A. 20A runs due west to Buffalo through NY farm country. We make pretty good time, but the farm traffic turning on and off 20A and some just moseying along, slows us down.
Soon we're in E Aurora where we stop off at my in-laws to say hello. We pull in and line up our bikes neatly in the driveway. My father-in-law, Don Reidy, comes out with all the noise and welcomes us in. He says its rush hour in Buffalo, if you can call it that, and suggests we stay for dinner. Dave and I have been on the road 10 hours now, Steve longer, so that's an offer not to be refused. Peg Reidy has a fridge stocked with refreshments, so we enjoy a beer and lemonade. While the hot dogs grill on the barbie we linger and relax. We discuss our route to Toronto, then get ready to leave. As we mount up Don grabs his Windex and offers us a squirt to wipe down each of our visors.
We refuel in E Aurora, then pick up 400 to Buffalo. Knowing this is heavily patrolled and enforced, I take it easy and when Dave starts to pull ahead I wave him back. Of course there's not a cop to be seen. We hit I-90, then I-190 through Buffalo to the Peace Bridge. The line is relatively short at customs though the officials have to discuss among themselves whether they'd allow anymore XS11's into Canada that day. They ask us some perfunctory questions like "How long are you staying?", "What is your favorite colour?", "Do you like spam?", and "How far can a swallow fly with a coconut?" They single out Chris with his British accent and made him sing "God Save The Queen" and do a silly walk to confirm his heritage. We finally clear customs and inch over to the cambio to get our loonies and toonies.
Dusk descends as we head north on the QEW. I'm in lead going about 70, when Dave zooms ahead, implying enough of this nonsense and racks it up to 80+. This appears to be the median speed on the QEW. And we must be making time because the distance numbers on the signs are really clicking down. Ah, that's right, this is Canada, metric and all that - gotta do the mental conversion of miles to klics.
Traffic is fast and aggressive. With nightfall, I appreciate Steve Pratel's "I'll send you to heaven!" Car Vaporizer. These are two little headlight augments mounted on his fairing just below his main. He'd activate them lighting up the area just forward of Visitation, and vaporize any car encroaching on his lane. A handy little item to have and Steve makes good use of it. (You can see these in the photo "Will Jones and Black Beauty", mvc-005s.jpg, on the shared page. Visitation is on the right.)
We soon approach the environs of Toronto and sight the CN tower. (I've a t-shirt with that on it.) Almost there! We spot the exit for Jarvis St and begin looking for Gerraud. There it is! We make a left and look for the Neill-Wycik. At the end of the block we realize we missed it and have to go around again. Ah, there it is. We park in a tow away zone and check in. With the paperwork done its around the block one more time to the parking garage.
We pull in and begin parking four bikes to a space. As I maneuver mine back and forth, I stand in an oil spot, lose my balance, and the bike goes over. How embarrassing. I'm quickly assisted with getting my bike vertical, and after a few snickers, finally get it parked. We download the bikes, and after searching for the rear access, we haul our stuff into the lobby. There, we find four elevators about the size of a closet each, but we manage to cram in there with our gear along with some other guests. At the 14th floor we bail out and make our way to our rooms. There we are meet by other xssives, and more introductions and hellos are made. I am a wiped puppy at this point and sorry, I don't remember who is there then. We find our individual cells, dump our stuff and decide a little refreshment is in order.
The local groceries don't carry beer so we begin our search for the Beer Store. As we walk along Gerraud, it's soon apparent that this isn't the best part of town. There are many friendly, approachable girls out, but they must be poor because they have little on in the way of clothes. Anyway our Beer Store is closed so we hit the Fueling Station, a nightclub across from the hostel. There we consume several pitchers and Steve allegedly hears us tell him to wake us up at 7:00 the next morning. This is significant because we stumble in about 3:00 and I hit the rack for a nice, long slumber.
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29 May:
I'm asleep still in a fog when a "Bam, Bam, Bam, wake up" shatters my somnolence. What is this, freaking boot camp? Someone is about to get strangled. Steve is up and about chipper as can be and when he sees my demeanor, he says "You guys said you wanted to get up at 7:00." I sure don't remember any such discussion, but the shower is open so maybe that'll wake me up.
It doesn't but by now the group is emerging and its time for breakfast. Down to the lobby for french toast and sausage, back up to the room to get our gear, back down to the lobby to head to the parking garage and make preparations for our ride to the yacht basin. Will, as usual is polishing his bike and the oil can is passed around to top off the thirstier XS11s. I add a dollop to mine then we begin to warm-up the motors. Seldom is heard, that number of XS11s rumbling at once.
We formate outside the garage then begin our trek to AYC. As I'm riding down the street I have this nagging doubt that I didn't put my filler cap. In middle of the back on a city street is not the time to look, so I wait till we hit the light, look down, and sure enough the cap is missing. Darn! I peel off from the formation and head back to the garage, and there it is on the pavement by the garage. I screw it back in then check the directions to the yacht club. I figure I have them down and off I go, solo through downtown Toronto on a bright Saturday morning.
I soon arrive at the yacht club and park with the other some 20 bikes. We meet the remaining Xssives staying at other locales and a big gabfest begins along with some wrenching. The cameras come out and picture are taken left and right.
Bill Kingson, shows me the badges he had cast. He sanded down one and buffed it up. For $10 they look like a pretty good solution to the emblem problem.
There's some minor wrenching going on. Kurt Steinhoff has a seized brake caliper that won't get fixed anytime soon, and Mike Cummings is tweaking his carburetors, something about some popping when he rolls off the throttle.
The sun is rising, temperature are climbing and its time to get moving. With that many bikes and all the conversation going on, its real tough to get a consensus and get moving. Now, I know why Congress never gets anything done. A plan is agreed upon, where we'll ride out to Zdeno's boneyard. Ron Lyman agrees to lead and we all make it around the corner to the nearest gas station. Seeing that we're a few bikes shy, Ron roars off not to be seen again. We draft Phil to lead us on his 650 special, figuring Ron, having been briefed the route, will catch up.
We head southwest out of Toronto and soon get on some backroads for what I expect to be a thrilling ride. The speed limit varies between 50-60 kph, and Phil is observing these limits. I notice there are a fair amount of police about.
We proceed on a tour of all the stop signs in the region, and I agree that they'll all red with white trim, octagonal, and say "Stop." C'mon Phi, when are you going to open it up? When we e reach one, long straight away, that's relatively remote I pull out of the pack and open the throttle. I pull away quickly and push it up to 80+, slow as I near the crest, do a scan for police, then open it up again. Upon reaching the next stop sign, I hold up and let the rest of the pack catch up.
With the heat and stop signs, its soon time for a break. We stop and a smaller ville and break for lunch. I'm still tired from my early rising, thanks Steve, so after a slice of pizza I crash under a tree. You can see the photos of a beached yellow beluga under a tree on the shared files section.
Somewhat refreshed, we continue our trek to Zdeno's and soon reach it. Talk about XS heaven, the back lot is full of rice burner carcasses, and the warehouse is stacked high with piles of parts. I pick up a headlight with the H4 bulb that may possibly fit my bike, and a valve cover laying in the dirt just crying for attention. I purchase both then we wander about the place for an hour until closing, 4:00PM, and then decide what to do next. Some decide to continue on to a local gorge, most decide to return to Toronto.
Dave ends up leading, and we take the expressways back to Toronto. On 401, we're doing around 80, mph that is, when we pass by a rest stop. I notice a cop sitting by the acceleration lane and figure we've been caught. I roll off the throttle and look for his lights but he doesn't move. I guess 80 is average on this road.
We continue on in the left lane. As we crest a rise, what lays ahead put a posse of Harleys in the right lane. Dave increases speed then shifts to the middle lane. As we zoom by, I hoping we don't get a rise out of them as there are more of them than us. Having dissed the HDs, Dave pulls back into the left lane.
We pass Toronto Intl, and with traffic thickening, get in the middle lane. We're still making time when a purple BMW car blows by us on the left going at least a 100. He very quickly disappears over a rise. About only a mile later we find ourselves in a huge backup. It's stop and go and very warm. As we inch along, we hear a siren and soon an ambulance the size of a bus, boy they grow 'em big here, screams by followed by a second, regular sized ambulance. Taking an opportunity when he sees it, Steve jumps into trail before the cars close back in and now we're . . . ambulance chasing. Steve is doing some great scolding of anyone encroaching on his space. He'll beep his horn a few times then wag his finger at the offender. To bad it wasn't night time, he could use his Car Vaporizer and blaze a path for us.
However we pause a bit too long and the traffic closes in front of us like the Red Sea in the "Ten Commandments". We're abreast an exit ramp so I beep the horn and pull off, figuring we can make better time on the city streets. Chris is arguing vociferously to continue on the expressway, so Steve, Chris and I make a left to conjure this. Steve asks a few passersby which way to downtown. They point ahead to the road down the road so that settles it for me - city streets. Chris joins up with Dave, who was ahead of us and they decide to turn left, while Steve, Will and I continue on. We're working our way downtown, but in fact we skirt all the way around center city but we eventually reach the hostel. Dave and Chris arrive several minutes later.
I decide a quick shower is in order than catch a quick nap prior to dinner. With the riding done we look for a steakhouse but decide on a Muggsies, sort of like a TGIF. The beer is cold and the service is slow but the beer is cold. Hours later with dinner complete we break up in groups before heading back to the hostel for some needed sleep. No 7:00AM wakeups!
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30 May:
I rise at a decent hour, 8:00, and soon most everyone else is up. After breakfast, it's a quick ride over to the yacht club to sort out activities for the day. Upon arrival, Will discovers he has overfilled Black Beauty and is figuring a good way to get the oil level down to maximum. Kurt finally fetches an oil pan, and Will proves that oil doesn't overly stain a Toronto t-shirt.
The decision is made to reconvene at the yacht club at 5:00, for the evening's barbecue and virtual toast. Bart volunteers to pick up some vittles so we through a few dollars and loonies his way. For the afternoon agenda a few decide to go to Niagara Falls. Chris, Dave, Steve and Will and I opt to stay off the bike for the day and take a walk around Toronto. Mike Cummings and Namon prepare to return home so hands are shaken before they depart. When everyone else finally figures out what they're doing we begin our ride back to the hostel along the waterfront. We stop for photos in front of the stadium and CN tower, and happen to meet the Grangers and Kriegers who are on foot. As we mount up to ride off, Dave discovers that his starter button is missing. We scour the area and Chris comes up with the button, but Dave still has to figure how to work around this problem, but finds and key inserted in the starter does the job. Back at Neill-Wycik we BS for a bit then head out to the CN tower on foot. It's a nice leisurely walk with a stop for some hot dogs. Then its on to the tower. Seeing the $20 ticket price, Steve declines to go up but we agree to meet later that afternoon. The ride up in a glass-faced elevator is impressive, ascending at 15mph Canadian, and the view from a thousand feet up is great.
As we walk around the observation deck we notice the Blue Jays stadium far belwo. Looking down we see the Yankees-Blue Jays game in progress. Looks like a video game. I see the pitcher throw the ball but from the distance I can't see it travel. I see the batter swing and from the reaction of the outfielders, that must be a strike, an out and an inning. The players running off the field look just like those in the video games.
We want to go up to the Skypod which is another 500 feet up. However, there is a long line, so we instead go down to the level below to stand on the glass floor and walk around the exterior platform. The platform is fully enclosed with mesh to prevent spitters and jumpers. We get our pics then take the elevator back down to meet Steve. We browse the CN Tower store, buy the obligatory souvenirs then began our walk back.
On one of the streets we come across a TV shoot, for "Relic Hunting" or something like that. It's in front of the Roxbury Hotel, and they've two taxicabs with Chicago references on them so I suppose that its supposed to take place in Chicago. Must be a lot of Ontario visitors. The whole effort is devoted to a couple coming up in a taxicab and going into the hotel. I don't think I 'd have the patience for that sort of work. However as we sit there, Dave makes nice to one of the blonde extras that is a driver. I think she is better looking than the actress.
Anyway the shot is over, so we head back to the hostel. We just kind of mellow out sitting and talking and sitting. We suggest to Bob Canel that he use the text he used last year for the virtual toast, change the place references, and nobody would be the wiser. Some time is spent examining that thought. Finally 6:00 rolls around and we figure we should be getting on to the yacht club for the barbecue. We arrive just in time for the steaks to come off the grill. With beer and steak I enjoy the company of this august company for this one last meal for soon we will be leaving for home.
With the dinner finished, and 7:00 approaching, Jim Hamilton leads us in the virtual toast to all Xssives everywhere with the last of the beer. (For text of the toast, see Bob Canel's commentary from last year.)
Bill Kingson, Joe and John begin loading their bikes on their trailer for an evening departure, so we observe this procedure. Having done no tech tips for the weekend, Jim Hamjam shows the assembled masses his homebuilt carb synchronizer. The issue of Flitz vs Rolo polish is raised, and I volunteer my bike for the polish off. After much buffing I can't tell that one is any better than the other though I do have a few more pieces of aluminum polished, courtesy of Bart Krieger, who really enjoys this task.
Jim has been agitating all weekend for us to get over to his neighbor's house, his neighbor a former XS owner, so he can see what real, live XSs look like. Jim says its only 15 minutes away so a number of us decide to head over. We follow Jim driving his minivan. 15 minutes in Canada seems like 30 minutes elsewhere, but its Sunday evening, traffic is light and the ride in enjoyable. At one light Chris and I are abreast, and with the light changing green, it's a race. Chris gets the jump with the green, but I'm right behind him. I must admit that Chris is the victor. But we both get a chuckle out of youthful indiscretion.
By the way, what do those flashing green lights mean in Canada?
We arrive at Jim's and wait patiently as he pulls his XS out of the garage. Then it's around the block to his pal's house, where Jim has to roust him out of bed so he can marvel at our bikes. It's nearly 10 and quite dark so its difficult to see much. But he is appreciative and relates the story of his XS. (Correct me on the details, Hamjam.)
Seems he had an XS11 with a pearl white finish, much like Visitation. He rode it for quite a few years. As with most of them, some problems developed, so he put it up out back under a tarp next to his shed. A year or so passed and he got the urge to check on his XS. Out he goes to the shed, lifts the tarp, and finds a rake in its place propping the tarp up. What gives, he asks his wife. She smiled and said that for his birthday, she had a bike shop come out, pick it up and restore it for about $2K. Delighted, he rode it another year or so then let his 16 year old nephew have it, out on the farm, with the understanding that he could ride it now and then. A bit later, when he got out to the farm, he found his nephew had spray painted the entire bike with a flat black. A little later he learned that he swapped it for a 750. Moral of the story: Not all of us appreciate the beauty and design of our wonderful XS11s.
As it's late and we intend to leave early on the morrow, we say our goodbyes and head for a local gas station for a fill up. Jim serves as pathfinder, riding with us until we get on Gerraud. From here we can find our way home easily. This last stretch of Gerraud is rather interesting. We pass through several ethnic neighborhoods; Indian, Chinese,and Latino. With each neighborhood, I smell the unique aromas of the spices they use in their respective menus.
We arrive at the hostel and make preparation to leave in the morning.
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31 May:
The plan is to get on the road by 8:00, but with breakfast, photos and checkout, it's more like 9:00. Most of us are of the same mind: "I'm to tired, I don't want to do this." But I figure, when the weariness is past all you'll remember are the good times.
After Dave finishes taping on his start button the six of us, Bob Canel, Chris, Dave, Steve, Will, and Darrell, shake hands in the parking garage at Neill-Wycik. I offer Will some oil to overfill his crankcase but he graciously declines. We fire up our bikes and then head out together. After saying goodbye to Dave's future wife, we travel on down Jarvis to pickup the Gardiner Expressway. We say g'bye to Chris as he turns left to head east towards Montreal. The five of us turn right to cruise down the Gardiner towards the US of A. About 15 miles out of Toronto, Bob peels off onto 401 so now there are four.
We make pretty good time, there on the QEW with only two short backups. After an hour we reach Niagara-on-the-Lake, a very well kept parkway, and motor on down to the falls. Disregarding Bob's hints for parking we choose to park right in front of police headquarters in the tow-away zone, I am paranoid our bikes will be dragged away by ever vigilant tow trucks. A police cruiser heading out just gives us a wave so we are probably good for a few minutes. We get our obligatory falls photos then return to our rides. The four of us repeat our goodbyes and, with a certain reluctance and sadness, shake hands one more time - XS Toronto is fast becoming history.
The Whirlpool Bridge seems to have the least congestion so we backtrack there to cross to the US. Clearing customs is no problem, though there is no Bank of Canada to collect our GST refund. Steve passes us some last minute directions then we all head south. Steve and Will part company and head for the thruway, while Dave and I decide to take the western PA route home. Traffic is light through Buffalo, but soon we are on Rte 219, a very boring interstate like road with nothing on it. The dullness of this road is getting to us so after an hour we pull off in Hamburg to get a hamburger. In a scene that repeats itself throughout the day, in the many villages and towns we passed through, nothing is open but gas stations. Towns seemed like ghost towns. Few people were up and about and there is little traffic.
We press on. Near PA , 219 becomes two lane and a little more interesting though it isn't until we cross Rte 6 that 219 develops some good twisties. However, Dave and I are feeling the heat and the fatigue. In the slow speed zones we stand on our pegs trying to cool our kiesters off. At this point, my butt is killing me and the trip can't be over soon enough. Finally giving in to the weariness we pull into a Sheetz for some gas and refreshment. Reviewing the map over a sandwich, we chose a route sans interstate. 219 to 869 to 36 to 26.
Feeling refreshed, our new route proves to be very challenging and invigorating, with little traffic and lotsa twisties. Saw a squirrel stealing across the road catch his tail on Dave's back wheel. Did a flip then scurried off. Probably crawled off and died off a heart attack.
869 proves to be a real thrill, though the route through the Blue Knob area looks ripe with loose gravel so we moderate our speed accordingly. We pull off at a state picnic area, to enjoy the solitude and stretch our legs. Very quite and few vehicles pass by.
We remount for further adventure and found some right after crossing I-99. 869 climbs a mountain, then comes slaloming down the other side dumping off into a large valley. We are flying through farm country and with the setting sun at our backs we can see our shadows in the reddening light. Pretty kewl.
Near Breezewood we decide to take 26 to 522 crossing the Potomac. 26 has no traffic, many challenging turns and a lot of nice scenery. After shooting a set of twisties cautioned as 10 mph, I beep Dave to stop and ask him how fast he thought he could shoot them with practice. "Not too fast," he responds, meaning something less than 80. After 40 minutes on this road, we catch the access ramp to I-68 and a brief high speed run to the turnoff for Rte 522. Dusk has fallen and I'm thinking, "Man, are we almost there yet?" The 869-26 routing is the most refreshing of the whole trip, but my enthusiasm is fading and ennui starts to return.
The last leg on Rte 9 through WVA is arduous. I'm ready to pull in the driveway now! Dave says it'll be another two hours yet. Darn! With darkness falling, the bugs on the windshield make it difficult to see in the glare of the headlights. We stop frequently to clear the visors and Dave's allergies are really bothering his eyes.
We're finally outbound from Leesburg on Rte 7 I make the decision to just press on down 7 as it is late and traffic is light. I even catch most of the lights, which is difficult to do normally. I soon reach Tysons Corner and turn into a Crown station, I've been running on reserve since about 10 miles back. After I top off I catch my turn for Vienna. After nearly 14 hours and 560 miles, I reach the end of my journey. My wife, Karen, though pissed I didn't call from Toronto, (but then I is on my time isn't I), is still happy to see me. The next morning the kids bound into bed, though I'm still dog tired.
It is a thrill to meet old friends and new ones and yet put more names to web personas. This periodic meeting of xsessive could become habit forming!. However, I think in the future, I'll keep weekend trips to under 400 miles one way. This butt-burner stuff is not for me.
The reverie of the weekend and the long hours enroute gave me pause to reflect on my life, to appreciate the many blessings I have received, and to consider reordering my priorities. One needs to step back from the hustle and bustle now and then to appreciate the forest and this has been a perfect opportunity.