This is approximately how Tim felt at 620AM.
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This is approximately how Tim felt at 620AM. |
Tim's mood improves after massaging his own nipple.
Two riders actively puking and a third thinking about it as we get settled in Charleston.
Late night on the strip. After dinner, Dave demonstrates just how easy it is to herd bikers. Nobody move.
Having vanquished the vicious Rotweilers, Dave gets down to business.
Now fully domesticated, the bikes hang out in the corral without any help from Dave..
I saw this from Dave's front yard and decided to scope it out for two-wheeler opportunities.
Apparently, the guy who left this here should have been wearing a helmet, in spite of the lack of a helmet law in S.C.
Discuss.
The sounds of hogs in Dave's 'hood could be heard over the roar of the ocean - over there somewhere.
Not many people are aware of this, but the Atlantic is on a fairly steep grade in the southern latitudes off Myrtle Beach.
Beaky Tour?
Just a few hundred feet down the beach, the incline gets so steep that there's a very strong rip-tide running dead south.
Jim Taylor about to give his speedo a workout like it's never had before.
George spent way too much time walking around asking, "Does my hand smell funny? Goddamn, I think my hand smells funny." Rhonda wears the look of experience.
Seriously, though, George and Rhonda are an eminently likeable couple. They're very friendly and quite interesting. I enjoyed every conversation I had with either of them.
It being Sunday, and not having a terminal on hand, Tim finds an opportunity for a little preaching.
Jim Taylor does the deed. Tim misses one shot, and gets in another.
Tim finally gets his due. Meanwhile, the kid in the background is *slowly* working a nice riding jacket over to his side of the partition while simultaneously snarfing a helmet with his feet.
When the kid turns his back, Tim signs again, in a different place.
And AGAIN!!
Dan could have sworn his helmet was right over there. Note the helmet hugging kid being whisked out the door.
Dan hits it again.
After demonstrating some absolutely beautiful skills riding, George is in a state of complete bliss.
Rhonda makes her mark.
I had a great time riding down with Tim and George and Rhonda. Tim and George used to race together, so they're pretty comfortable in a really tight formation. They both have very good instincts on the road and were a pleasure to ride with. I'd ride with them any time.
I've gained a lot more appreciation for Harleys than I had before the trip. It's especially cool how many layers of chrome they lay down on every piece. They are so shiny that when a piece does come flying off, it makes the most spectacular light show as it gracefully clears all manner of weeds and roadkill before disappearing out of view. I said so many oohs and ahhs as it went that it felt like the Fourth of July.
Dave DuBose has set a very high bar for the way a reeky rider takes care of those on the next leg. He met us well north of our destination and led us on down to the beautiful Charleston, SC. He showed us around the slave market and then took us into a local beverage joint for some cold ones. He treated us to two trips over some bridges shaped like two ski jumps joined at the top. We got to meet his family over dinner and then rejoin at their beach house right on the water. What a great treat.
I've decided it'd be only fair to those in PA to show them the exact same kind of hospitality. So that's what I'll do. I'll show you around Charleston, then we'll crash at Dave's beach house for the night and head north. Seriously, though, to the entire DuBose family - THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR YOUR GENEROSITY.
It was great to meet up with Jim Taylor and Dan Wright on the way north. Hats off to both of you. I'm really glad we were able to make contact. The last fuel stop before meeting Jim almost happened a few miles from the nearest gas pump. Thankfully, George and Rhonda were comfortable riding 3 inches off Tim's fender and we were able to make it with a tenth of a gallon to spare. If not for the quick thinking, our meeting might have been delayed substantially.
My favorite part on the way home would be hard to nail down. Certainly, the triple-stoppie that occurred when the guy with the boat trailer cut us all off was fun. If nothing else, my front tire now has five more inches of circumference than it had before the trip. That's gotta be worth something. George's remark to me on the experience went something like, "I checked my rearview, and you were in *all* of it."
The whole trip home was a blast, really. After watching Tim and George for 750 miles, mostly on the way down, I began to appreciate and trust in their riding habits. I got comfortable enough with their skills that I decided to tuck in with them. That led to a threesome blasting home in a car length at 2, maybe 3 mph over the limit for very long stretches. Lots o' fun. Totally cool. Thanks, Tim, thanks, George, thanks, Rhonda.
NAAAART!
