Today the morning threw out a tease, a little hint of cool and dry. Ah the signs of things to come hopefully before Christmas. Okay back at the Palace of Temptations ( GTD), I pull up and there is Tommy N with a bag of doughnuts of which he did share one and only one with JoeJoe . Now M2 shows up and with the usual “How y’all doing”? . Michael is hot-footing into the Den of Goodness coming out shortly with a brown paper sack clutched tightly in his hand. Now this is a Breakfast Ride after all. But Sandies and that bit of dough with stuff on or in it is a Siren Song many Sandies are powerless to resist . Fortunately Joe and Melanie W joined up with us and we could leave that Den of Sugar Delights. We headed west to Navarre, no less, stopped at T.C. Front Porch. Normally T.C. is busy at this time but as with the admonition “not to wear white after Labor Day” the tourists weren’t out. The food was outstanding, the service first cabin. After Breakfast we decided to take that, Park Ranger enforced, leisurely drive across Santa Rosa Island. The speed limit is 35 and the Rangers are on hand to help jog your memory lest you feel froggie. Sides on beautiful morning like this the 35 mile an hour speed limit was just about perfect. Went all the way to Pensacola Beach did the Sandie maneuver we are known for , The Famous U-Turn. Heading back whence we came, we again strolled, metaphorically speaking, back across the Island. Enjoy Some of JoeJoe’ s best pictures, very good. We got home just as the day forgot it’s cool temps and returned to its normal temps. As always got to hang out with great riding companions, eat good food and enjoy the day. Next Sunday, finally and hopefully Skills. Remember Summer hours, 7:30 GTD, 8 am Range.

What does an 1914 Case Tractor and doughnuts have in common ? Stay tuned folks because there is a definite tie-in. Surprised don’t be it’s a Sandie thing Let’s start off with the strange fascination Sandies have with doughnuts We start off on Saturday watching Sandies cramming doughnuts at noon. Watching Tommy N, Bobby B, Mark S and Tony G woofing down doughnuts like they hadn’t eaten in a month. I will never understand the pull of doughnuts and Sandies. Now get this the same crew was eating pulled pork with all the fixings an hour later. Frank W, Sam, Steven G and Joe W all showed remarkable restraint in that Den of Doughnut Temptations. 11 Sandies made the Grand Opening. M2 and The Mitchell dropped in later. Domboski’s is owned by the son, Andy, of the late Jerry Domboski’s of Jerry’s Cycles on Racetrack Rd. Nice shop and good food, the Doughnut Gang by the way slowed down not a whit bellying up to the BarbQ table. Even Steven G got in the act, showing me his pulled pork and mac and cheese sandwich, only a Sandie would think of that. Met a lot of folks I haven’t seen in years, some as long as twenty years ago. The old crowd that started riding in the 60’s may have thinned out because of age and time. But there are still some of us around, some of us still riding even. Now how did a 1914 Case Tractor, by the way Tony G took some great pictures of it. Okay and this is Germaine to the story , how? Next door was this boat that sat on Eglin parkway next to Joys Southern Restaurant. The price tag was $118,000 at that time, so I was curious . Well met the guy who built it and there right next to the boat, sat the 1914 Case Tractor. It belonged to his grandfather and his dad used it in Parades and Tractor Pulls. Top speed, 3 miles an hour, he said always did a full pull, slow but it never stopped. It was at this point Tommy wanted ice cream, how a Case 1914 Tractor triggered that response beats the heck out of me. When it comes to Sandies and food there is no rational reason for anything. It was a great day of meeting old friends and making new ones, another great Sandie day.

Since the actual temperature for Saturday was scheduled to be 100 degree’s. It was Breakfast ride , again since it was Saturday more places of Vittles were open. We ended up ultimately with 9 Sandies and did right at 100 miles. JoeJoe finally made it he had been working weekends and nights. Sam bought his breakfast seems JoeJoe left his wallet in his other jacket, riiight cough cough. Tony G of Video fame resorted to Camera this time, at first I thought a shrunken JoeJoe was running around doing the photog thing. Ah Frank W what can I say we had to wait for a table and Frank is chatting up the folks around him. I think Frank sold two condos and a lot in Southern Florida before we got inside. Munchkin and Helen met us on the road. Tommy said “Hey a Road Glide is trying to sneak up on us”. Well it was Munchkin and sneaking up not a word I would use to describe louder sound of Munchkin's Road Glide. The food was good and lot of it. The company was first cabin and the good part we made it home before the thermometer hit the Century mark.

When George asks for volunteers to lead a ride, you know something is off. Sometimes you can figure it out right away, and other times the dark mystery lies in wait until an inopportune moment. Today - it was the latter of the two. I warned George that if I were to lead there would be no one there. I volunteered only if the emergency back to the emergency backup was unavailable and there literally wasn't anyone else going on the ride. So George announces on all channels that your's truly (Bobby B) would be leading today's ride. No one wants to follow he that cannot be found... I arrived at Good Things Donuts and waited for no one to show up. Frank W rolls in on his comfort cruiser about five minutes till. Frank was all smiles and jovial, it was nice to see a familiar face and one of the easiest going members of the club. We chat for a while, then I realize that it's three minutes past I've already broken a law of the ride and we haven't even started yet! Frank and I have an uneventful jaunt up through Crestview, then over to Baker, where we stopped for me to pick up brunch/lunch. Frank was a little shaken by some deer of the side of the road. We swapped battle stories of motorcycles and wildlife and head north then west towards Krul Lake. About four miles from our destination, I see a message pop up on my Garmin from George. He states that since the low turnout, I should make this a ride day instead and save the lake for another day. Just one tiny problem: We already had lunches cooking on the bikes, we had swim gear and towels, and by the time I received the message we had entered the dead zone that is North Santa Rosa County Florida. We were committed at this point and continued on. We arrive at the entrance of Krul Lake and are immediately stopped by a Forestry Service employee. The employee informs us that we will not enter without a pass. Passes have to be purchased online, in advance using their reserveamerica website. There is no cellular reception for Verizon customers in the forest. He smiled when he pointed back to the road and told us we were welcome to try Bear Lake back up the road. I explained that I had gone on the website earlier last week, and did not see any such requirements for Krul Lake. I did purchase the annual Day Pass from the Florida Forestry Service. The employee was happy to point out that would not get us into Krul Lake. I was instead welcomed to turn around and seek cellular service, then use my annual day pass to get a "free" Krul Lake day pass. He was unable to let us in without a pass specifically for Krul Lake. I hear Frank turn off his bike, and say "you know we went through this last year. I forgot all about it!" that was when I knew I had been had; the jig was up. Thankfully there was only one other member there to witness my failure to leave on time AND get to the destination. I rolled my bike back beside Frank's and started looking through my phone to read the fine print on the day pass I purchased. I was sure it did say that it counted towards all State Forests but there was a disclaimer that said that each park could change the rules at the gate depending on what was going on that day. While I'm looking, Frank starts talking. I think he's passing the time while I'm looking up my info, but no Frank W had other ideas. They talked about the area, construction, bridges (on that topic both Frank and the Employee had some distant connection), and real estate. Before I can even marvel at just how silver tongued Frank is, the employee is handing me his person cell phone to look up my information. He tells us that he stopped a group of motorcycles yesterday and they sat at the gate for two hours before they finally left. The employee starts telling us how to get through, and when I had trouble accessing my account, he tells us to just go on through. He then asks us to use only one parking space. I'm in disbelief. What in the world did Frank say to him, and why are we suddenly given access after adamant refusal? I ask Frank if he wants to go back to Bear Lake or go in. He says we are here and we have permission, so we might as well go in and look around. So into the parking area we went. There were four cars in the parking lot. This place was quiet, peaceful. I imagine they didn't want the riff-raff to enter and make a lot of noise. Frank and I parked, and sat at a table and enjoyed a very early lunch. We talked for a while and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the forest. There were a few family's around and a few more pulling in as we talked. Frank and I decided to head back sans swimming for this adventure. We parted ways as he went southwest and I southeast. Two members clocked in just over 98 miles. We had some laughs, and I learned the importance of having backup plans ready at all times. I also learned that Frank "Silver Tongued" W can befriend just about any human being on this planet. - Bobby B

FIRST ANNUAL SANDOLLAR CHICKEN RUN By Munchkin Yes, I said "chicken run". George likes to believe we went on a tour, but folks, this was no tour. 800 miles in three days does not meet the definition of a tour. It was a good run though. I was up bright and early Friday morning, finished packing the bike and out the garage I went. I met Steve and Sharon(a.k.a. Skwirll) at their house and off we went to the Exxon station to await the group. Here they come and we fell in trail to the Shell station in Pensacola. After a brief stop for gas and coffee for those who needed it, we were off to see the sights of the back roads of Alabama and Mississippi. We went up I-65 and then back down I-65. Early U-turn I guess. Steve left us shortly thereafter as he had to go TDY. The back roads of Miss. were, for the most part, logging roads because they were just filled with logging trucks. We stopped at a Wards burger joint in a small town which could have been a clone from our previous road trip. After our bellies were filled it was off again on our magic carpet ride. This being late fall, the shadows were beginning to get long and the sun started to flicker in the trees making for some strange shadow effects. Coming up a hill in a left turn, a pickup was coming down and as we passed him another truck rear ended him. Luckily he didn’t bounce into our lane. After 20 minutes of travel, the traffic, what there was of it, came to a stop. As the cars slowly began to move, we saw the hold up. A car had the misfortune of perfect timing and speed, and T-Boned the trailer of a logging truck, and hit the trailer tube that runs to the rear wheels. The tandem wheels of the trailer then hit the side of the car. We don’t know if the driver was injured. It is now dusk as we pull into Vicksburg and our lodging. After all the arrangements have been made and a quick freshening up, it’s off to eat. On the recommendation of motel staff we go to a local steak house who have a good reputation. Not so much. Wheets’ french fries were cold, my steak had too much fat and too top it off the waitress insisted on calling everyone Boo. Also for some reason she took a special liking to the Mitchell and kept on smacking him on the back of the head. Is there something we don’t know Mr. Mitchell? Have you been here before? Overall it was an overpriced so-so dinner, but filled us up. Back at the motel we put the bikes too bed, some had adult libations, and others such as myself just fell asleep. Good night Ethel. Next morning at 5 AM we discovered that Doc Pat, Brenda and their friends had made it to Vicksburg to join our Chicken Run. As we all prepped the bikes and paid the bills, we all also enjoyed the in house breakfast. Free too. What could be better? Finally, all are ready and its off to get gas. That having been accomplished, its off to the Vicksburg Civil War( War of Northern Aggression) battlefield park and museum. The road that wound around the battlefield gun emplacements and fighting positions of both sides was a good ride. But I must make an observation. All one could see were the placards of the different troop and gun emplacements of both sides as one rode the loop road. The trees and vegetation that had grown since that battle long ago, gave one little perspective of what the troops faced, or what they saw as they charged or fired on opposing positions. All one could see were trees. I’m sure this was not as things were back then. I’m sure though, that to replicate conditions would be prohibitively expensive. Still, It was interesting. Even more interesting was the wreck of the gunboat Cairo, which was sunk by the Confederates with the first use of an electrically detonated mine. Time to move on to the Coca Cola Museum. Lots of artifacts of days gone by, and stuff produced by Coke that I didn’t know existed. By now everyone is getting hungry and the raison d’eter for this jaunt...CHICKEN!! Lee and a couple of others charged ahead to insure that no one would beat them out of any of the world famous cluckers. The object of our quest is just 40 miles down U.S. 61, which at the posted speed limit is about an hour away. Along the way some interesting road signs are seen, not the least of which is Grand Gulf nuclear power station. Who knew that Mississippi had a Nuke plant? At last we come to our reason for this jaunt, Lorman Miss. Country store, home of the worlds best fried chicken!! We shall see. Lee comes out to greet us, and informs us that they had just arrived 3 minutes earlier and that the chicken is not yet ready. The building is of ancient heritage, about 1829 if I remember the sign correctly. Inside you can see the country store heritage, with the wall shelves that go from floor to ceiling and the ladder on tracks to gain access to items out of reach. Since the yard bird was not yet fried, we started in on the salad, which was most delicious. Could have eaten nothing but that and I would have been satisfied. The salad dressing was not something that came out of a bottle. Didn’t think to ask them for the recipe. Finally it’s Chicken time! We all queue up to get our cluckers, and its not long before its all gone. Not to fear, more is on the way, as the birds are fried in small batches to insure that they do not languish on the serving buffet...as if that were a problem. My friends, rarely have I tasted chicken this good, if ever! I chose a piece of breast because if chicken is going to be dry or tasteless, this will be the piece that it’s going to happen to (and I‘m a hooter kind of guy). I am pleased to report that Alton Brown was indeed correct in bestowing the title of “ Worlds Best Chicken” upon The Country Store! We were all finally satiated, but it was time to move on down the road. Doc Pat, Brenda and friends took their leave of us and headed back to Cajun country, we on the other hand, had quite a ride ahead of us. To get to U.S. 84 we first had to traverse Miss. 552. It started out innocently enough, nice curvy road, arching trees etc. Then comes the sign, ”State Maintenance Ends” . It then turned into nothing more than rough gravel with some tar thrown on top to keep it in place. Pot holes the size of the Grand Canyon were everywhere. Then the hunting camps started showing up off the sides of the road. At least I hope they were hunting camps, I would hate to think people actually lived in conditions like that. Except for the trees you would think this was Somalia. And then in the back of my mind the theme song from Deliverance started playing. Can we get out of here...NOW! Finally, civilization! A gas station! Sort of. Two pumps with the numbers on a rotary wheel and the lot was dirt. Along comes a medium sized dog with a large stick in his mouth...that’s no stick!...It’s a deer leg with the hoof and the hide still on it! There’s that music again. Eventually, we make it to Hwy.84 and are making good time, but it is getting late and the light is fading. Now its dark and the road is making some nice dips and turns, and if it weren't for the utter blackness, this would be a good road. It’s like riding through a tunnel. All the while though, you know you're not, and expect creatures of the night to come bounding out of the woods on either side of you and take you out. Monroeville! We are here! Dave and Tina's place. Light, warmth and food. Has it become evident that we are food junkies? We live and ride for food! That was the sole purpose for this ride. Dave and Tina have put on quite a spread for us! Ham, turkey, dressing, taters’ veggies and of course desserts. Did I tell you we like food? After I stuffed myself, I had a short snooze on the couch. When I awoke, I found that Sharon, Jerry and myself were the only ones still up. We chatted until the wee hours, but soon the sand man found us as well, and we went off to slumberland. Next morning we awoke to overcast skies with the possibility of rain. We geared up and went off to collect Lee and Wheet at the local motel. Lee had a small coolant leak issue, which was soon corrected and it was off to Range, Alabama for breakfast and gas. Why is it that your small or country restaurants usually have better food than the larger well known places? Cheaper too. Service also good. Well we’re on the last leg of this Chicken Run as we head down Al. 41. Soon it turns into Fl.87 and I’m almost home. I turn onto 98 and in a few more miles and turns I glide into my garage and as the garage door closes, another road trip comes to a safe and successful end. Sandie Legend Trip By George The Sandies were all snuggled in their older, but clean Motel beds with visions of Fried Chicken dancing in their collective heads. All, that is, except Skwirrel - she was out trying to con the front desk clerk out of a beer. Was she successful? Stay tuned and find out. So ended an absolutely incredible day of riding the Sandie way. Ah, the Sandie way, it involves missing roads and U-turns; even with a GPS. Discovering new ways of getting somewhere - some times not the straightest or fastest way of getting anywhere. We made it to Hattiesburg via the Sandie method, went around Hattiesburg then took the Stephen Gardinier Hot-Dog and Onion Short-Cut to Vicksburg. Along the way, we were almost involved in an accident. Well, it happened right next to JoeJoe and Rocketman; one truck ran into another truck. (No doubt distracted from looking at a certain gorgeous GL 1800 belonging to the Ride Captain). We passed another accident further up the road, this one was serious; car ran a stop sign and ran under a Logging Truck, not a pretty sight. I also discovered a truism on this tour: When in Mississippi, if you see a sign that says “End of State Maintance” on the road you’re on, stop and put your motorcycle into 4-wheel drive, you’re going to need it. On the other hand, as we found out later in the trip, Twilight Zone mode. Meanwhile back at the motel, where Skwirrel was clutching her ill-gotten beer, who should appear but none other than the Bearded One himself. No, not Santa, Virginia, but the one and only ever so infamous Doc Pat (and Brenda), with friends in tow. Now only a Sandie would ride through the cold night, after work, just to eat fried chicken. To further prove most motorcyclists aren’t the brightest bulbs in the chandelier, Doc talked 2 of their friends into coming along. I mean who but a Sandie would think that riding 375 miles (one way) to eat fried chicken made perfect sense. The next morning, after making sure that everyone was up and at ’em, including The Midnight Beer Scammer, it was off to the National Battlefield at Vicksburg. The park is beautiful on a late fall morning as the motorcycles move down the narrow asphalt road, the passing tires stir up the leaves, while other leaves drift down. We couldn’t stay long but we did stop long enough to tour the Ironclad ship, Cairo, and it’s Museum. Up to now, we have been riding exclusively along the Yankee, or Aggressors in the War for Southern States Rights, side of the Battlefield. Just as we turned the corner on the Confederate side of the Battle lines, it was time to leave and head for the Coca-Cola Museum. The back route out of the Park is one nice road, starts out on top of a hill and winds its way down to the middle of town. When we got to the downtown area, the ugly specter of starvation reared its head. Now keep in mind that we had just eaten not 3 hours before, but listening to the plaintive cries and whines, you would have thought their last meal was days before. The Mitchell, Rocketman and Wheet were all lamenting about their empty bellies. I foolishly chose to ignore them and headed for the Coca-Cola Museum. Nice Museum. It was in the first place in America to bottle Coca Cola. Skwirrel and I were looking at Coke stuff when the coup d'état happened. The starving ones said they couldn’t take it any longer had to have their ‘fried chicken fix’. I pointed to the street out in front of the Museum, told them to stay on that Road until they got to Lorman, MS, and chicken Nirvana awaited them. Stampeding cattle couldn’t move faster than that herd. The rest of us civilized folk; yes, including Sam, Skwirrel, Munchkin and JoeJoe, finished our walk through the Museum, eased our way back to the parking lot, mounted our motorcycles and motored out of Vicksburg. The Donnor Party was long out of sight, last seen thundering out of town, as if the Devil himself was chasing them. The road is MS 61 and runs parallel to the Mississippi River, mostly four-lane, but it narrows to a very nice two-lane through Port Gipson, Ms. the town hails itself as “The Town too Pretty to Burn”. It is a very quaint and picturesque southern town. There was still no sign of the Lifeboat Survivors, although some trees were bent in their direction of travel. We soon arrived in Lorman, for your education the only thing in Lorman was the Country Store, where this divine Fried Chicken was being served (eventually). There could not be a more forlorn group of motorcyclists than those gaunt Sandies standing on the porch of the Country Store. It seems they serve around 11:30 am, not at 10:30 am as the Poor Unfed had thought. So all they could do was stand there and smell all the wonderful food smells drifting out of the kitchen. Some times the Road Gods reward patience, virtue and honesty. Maybe that explains why the Road Gods crap on the Sandies so often. Seeing as how I’m the only one that fills all the virtuous criteria. Meanwhile back in Lorman, on the Porch: The Donnor Party of 4, (They were five and forgot about Jerry) it was ‘when do we eat’ and other assorted whines. Those of us that showed restraint on the fried chicken thing were content to wait, but there was change in the wind. Mr. Davis, the Wizard of the kitchen that produced those wonderful smells, came out to talk to the gaunt Foodie Sandies. He even sang a song to the drooling 5, not that they listened; they just kept edging toward the buffet. Now a strange change came over the rest of the Sandies, they also began edging toward what food was out on the buffet. The nice lady that ran the dining room took pity on the emaciated Sandies and opened up the salad bar. There was literally a run for the veggies, I showed the restraint I have become famous for, waited, and went last. Not a smart thing as I was to find out later. Finally, hot food! The buffet began filling up, the fact that there was still no chicken did not deter the Foodies, and they kept shoveling. THEN the Chicken arrived! There was literally a melee at the buffet, when the crowd opened up, there was no, I repeat, NO chicken in the pan. Here is where it got ugly; I had not one piece, not even a crumb. I went back to the table, someone asked why I had no chicken, looking around I noticed that most Sandies had at least 2, most had 3 pieces of the “Worlds Best Fried Chicken”. Did they offer any to the Road Captain, the one that planned this Road trip - brought them safely to the Worlds Best Fried Chicken? Did they share? Well did they? NO! Sam did give me one of her pieces and The Mitchell, grudgingly offered a piece. Everyone else was guarding their plates. As matter of fact, they looked just like the Lions on a National Geographic special; Lions, guarding their fresh kill from Hyenas. The Chicken was excellent, tea was traditional southern Iced-Tea, or as Mark Twain called it “Southern Wine”. Everything but dessert was included for $6.00. Dessert was cobbler. Fresh cobbler. The Mitchell ordered cobbler plus ice cream; Mr. “I’m going to take it easy”, yea right. Pat & Brenda joined us; at least they showed some restraint about the fried chicken. The place filled up rapidly, mostly fellow motorcyclists. Sam got Mr. Davis to autograph a menu “To the Sandies”. He then sang another song, which drew a large round of applause. After much burping and belly, rubbing it was time to saddle up. We stood on the porch, talking about how far we had to go (almost 280 miles) and it was already 12:30 pm. As we got ready to pull out, I swear I saw The Mitchell let his belt out a notch or two. We headed across 61 and down MS 552. We wanted to stop at Rosewood Plantation. I had read about it on the internet; built in 1857, survived the War of Northern Aggression, and is a Bed and Breakfast now. Just a few miles and we did a U-Turn; I missed the entrance, rode down a dirt road with a classic Southern Plantation in the distance. We got to the Main House, parked, and said ‘Hi’ to a strange young man on the second floor. This was beginning to get a little spooky, kinda of like one of those Gothic Novels or a movie like “Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte”. We walked up to the front door and rang the bell, no answer. Main front door was open, just a locked screen door. Knocked again and a little gray haired lady answered, she just kind of peeked out the door at the bikes and us. She said they were closed for the rest of the year, would I like a brochure? I said yes Ma’am; she opened the door and as she was handing me the brochure, out strolled a Rhodesian Ridgeback. These dogs are rare in the U.S., and they’re huge; The Rhodesian S.A.S. used them as war dogs during the civil war there. This one was very calmly eyeing us, sorta waiting for someone to do something really stupid, like breathe. Patted the dog, said thank you, and got off the porch. Next thing I notice the strange young man is following us to the parking lot, I mean this boy was ‘Bats in the Belfry’ strange, not just ‘ Deliverance’ strange, but Rod Sterling strange, Stephen King strange, the kind of strange that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. He walks up to Lee, comments on the Rocket 3, nice bike etc. Lee says thanks, and then the guy says very clearly, “You know you look good on that Bike”. I never ever saw a big Triumph Rocket III turned around faster, heading down that dirt road with a plume of dust behind it. I swear we passed a thin guy smoking a pipe wearing a hounds-tooth jacket and leaning on a sign as we left the plantation. The Road was incredible, twisting and turning through some beautiful countryside. The weather was a perfect fall day; Got to a crossroad, uh-oh, which way? GPS doesn’t show road conditions, map shows a windy road, Oh hell, go left. Skwirrel thinks I’m a flaming liberal any way, get it, left, liberal? Helloooo, anyone out there? Road is still nice, and then comes the dreaded sign “END OF STATE MAINTAINCE”. In Mississippi that’s a real uh-oh. Road got rougher and the countryside got strange looking. Remember the guy in the hounds-tooth jacket? The light was a weird color, the trailers were beat up, and the farms had a wild look to them. I was busy praying to the Road Gods to get us the hell out of this strange place, and it was getting stranger the deeper we went. In addition, I was praying again to our fickle Road Gods not let a Sandie have a breakdown here in the Enchanted Forest. You see, The Mitchell was in the Super Six position, Skwirrel and Munchkin right in front of him. Knowing the Mitchell, he would use the “Bear in the Woods Rule”. To wit: “You don’t have to the fastest person in a group if a bear is chasing you, just faster than the guy behind you”. Therefore, if something happens, Skwirrel and Munchkin becomes Bear Bait. Hell, the V-Rod would probably pass me, too. Nothing like having the Cowardly Lion as your Super Six, well it did seem like OZ. Kidding aside, I am sure that Mitchell wouldn’t leave anyone. Maybe. Back to Never-Never Land, the road got worse and worse, the trees got closer together and it got darker and darker. All we needed was a squad of Flying Monkeys to show up to make this a complete Road Nightmare. Suddenly there was a ditch across the road, it was speed up and hope you didn’t leave a wheel behind. Less than a mile up the road was a sign that we were finally leaving the Enchanted Forest; it said “BEGINNING STATE MAINTAINCE”. Somehow, we, the Sandies, had outwitted the Road Gods, this time. We stopped for gas at this little very country store. “Why,” you ask, “after what we had gone through would you stop for gas?” Sand Dollar Tour Directive #6 “Thou shalt gasup the wagons at every opportunity whilst in Indian Territory”. While there, Jerry found out that what looks like a stick being drug around by a dog isn’t always what it seems. We passed through Union Church, another story for another time, made a left and headed for Brookhaven, MS down one of the nicest riding roads in this part of the south, MS 550, simply unbelievable. Stopped once more for fuel in Brookhaven, Sandies had to use the bathroom. Well it took longer and longer, we had 210 miles to go, it was 2:30 pm, dark was only 3.5 hours away, and it was going to get cold, fast. After rounding up all the Sandies, we had a Road Meeting, laid out that we had to move and move smartly if we didn’t want to become Sandiecicles. Pointed out that this was deer season and a cold, very dark Alabama highway with its warm pavement was a deer magnet. We rolled out and headed at off at 75 + mph on US 84. Well, after stopping to pick-up Munchkin’s dropped gloves, we made 75 + mph. That boy drops more stuff off his bike than anyone I know. Now it was just straight, hard, fast driving. US 84 in Mississippi is the loneliest 4 lane in America. We saw hardly any traffic, which is good when it comes to the Constabulary. Soon it got dark, then colder, our headlights flashed on the occasional dead deer on the side of the road, I noticed more folks were staying in the middle of the road. I was following a pick-up that was making good time in the dark. This stretch of Highway is the darkest road I have ever been on. Stopped in Coffeeville, AL to put on more clothes, Sandies were cold and tired but hanging in there. Everyone kept a good positive attitude, upbeat despite the circumstances. We just wanted to make it to Dave and Tina’s, warm food, a fireplace, and a nice bed. Ahh, bliss. Four and half-hours after Brookhaven we rolled into Monroeville, this was a Sandie Run that would become Sandie Legend. Those Sandies that made this Road Run were and are Motorcyclists. Dave and Tina had awesome food, great company and a nice soft bed. Dave and Tina are so nice that Munchkin didn’t even have to sleep in the Garage. We left for breakfast after repairing the Rocket, slight coolant leak, no big deal. Great breakfast at a small country restaurant, Dave picks good food spots. We made it home a couple of hours later, what a trip, definitely a Sandie Legend Road Trip. I would go again with this crew, anywhere, anytime. Da Skwirrel’s Chicken Tour By Da Skwirrel I'm still basking in the glow from one of the best rides. Great folks coming together for adventure. The ride was the main course and the destinations were the desert ..Experiencing rides like this make me so glad to be a member of the Ridingest club. The weather.. Not too cold and definitely not, hot Sunshine all the way.. The rays highlighting the golden and red tints on the palette of fall leaves on the trees lining the rolling back roads of AL and MS. Fenced pastures, some vacant, some not, conforming to the topography of the gentle earth. Absolutely so very privileged to be able to experience the beauty of life. The Sandies in synchronized formation, rode smoothly along the rolling, curving, twisting hills resembling a Chinese New Year Dragon. I like George's version of Geometry..the shortest distance between point A and point B is NOT a straight line! We arrive in Vicksburg at dark.. so of course, the rest of the night was spent eating and laughing.. aint that right BOO? Call TDY Steve to remind him how it sux to be him (have to add salt to the wound ya know). Next morning blessed us with just as good weather as before. Time to ride the Park...wonderful roads caressing the battlefields of the past. I mean it!.. it was great fun.. almost no traffic.. just us...and a few folks waving as we exit. After we visit the Coke museum, it's time for the pilgrimage to the Chicken Mecca in Lorman MS... OH YEAH BABY!!!!!!!! This is the way food is suppose to be fixed... so Southern..hard to describe.. too busy drooling. So fresh! So tasty!!!!!! Louisiana Sandies meet us there to eat.. they're just as crazy as we are...is that scary or a requirement to become a Sandie? Full as a tick, we mount our metal two wheeled steeds and head for our next conquest!...To eat of course! I can't believe that we are actually headed out to go eat right after we just ate! Of course we rode a few hundred miles and it took many hours to do so. On the way, we stop at an old Southern mansion. Surrounded by oak trees draped in the Spanish moss.. surely there's a mint julep to be had.No tour was available which was OK.. too full to waddle anyway. Onward! What's that noise? Riding along some very very very back roads, Mitchell (bringing up the rear) hears the sweet plucking sounds of the Deliverance banjo like the Sirens calling to Ulysses. I kept him in my sight making sure he didn’t go off and join that duet. The Sandies finish that road into "civilization". George uses his skills as professional cat herder as he leads us to Monroeville. Hundreds of miles and not too late to...EAT (of course). Chez de Dave et Tina Here are some of the best folks waiting for us. Greeted us with open arms and hot delicious food and drinks. Waiting on us hand and foot.. taking care of our every whim. Yes there was a mint on the pillow...really do appreciate all that y’all did. Was good seeing the Monroeville Sandies. Great job on the route George.. bodacious roads! Had a BLAST! A definite do again!!!! Jerry Chicken Tour By Jerry G. Friday 23 November dawned clear, cold (39°) with a 20-25 mph wind from the north for my start on the Chicken Run. As the usual “Hard Core” departed (on time as always), I was all set for the trip fully loaded down with all bags stuffed, plus air mattress, sleeping bag, etc, and a suitcase tied down on the b..... seat. After a very cold and windy ride to our usual stop at 9th Ave. and US 98 in P’cola, someone asked me why I had the suitcase along. I explained that for a three-day trip I did have some minimal needs such as a toothbrush, change of clothes, Captain Morgan, etc., etc. It was hard to tell who enjoyed this the most, the one who told me that the trip wasn’t until next Friday or the whole group that took turns speculating on the condition of my memory, my mind, my lack of a computer, and possibly my sex life (or lack thereof). Friday 30 November dawned clear, cool (49°) and much more pleasant. Seeing some of the same folks/bikes and all bikes loaded down did ease my mind somewhat. Same stop as before without the harassment I withstood last week, with 3 more bikes accumulated on the way. We followed our usual covert route (no interstate and minimal 4-lanes) to I-165 in Mobile where our exalted leader not only did not try to pass a red light with two state police cars there (as before), but got us all going north on I-165 only to pass up our planned exit on Rte. 158 for a 6-mile u-turn back on I-165 to Rte. 158. Everything else uneventful including our stop at a Ward’s Drive Inn (try their “Big One,” a full-size cheeseburger loaded full of their chili). This fueled us up all the way to Vicksburg, Mississippi, about 335 miles from Fort Walton observing only one wreck along the way. I’m sure that others will describe the wreck, but I will say that I have never, ever, seen a fully loaded lumber truck trying to mate with a Chevy Camero. After getting settled in a nice motel, we hit a local eatery where most folks ordered steaks (some of the best-looking I’ve seen) or shrimp (huge and tasty). A folksy waitress who called everyone “Boo” evidently liked “Cool Hand.” We could tell because every time she passed by she rapped him in the head, this might be because he was eating the tidbits that dropped on the floor. Best thing of all, I was awarded the “Jeffery Award.” Next morning everyone showed up early (you make not think this newsworthy, and then you’ve never made a Sandy road trip). We were joined by those wonderful Sand Dollars Pat and Brenda and a couple from Louisiana. They are the sponsors of our “Lo Road Tour,” the high point of all our trips every year. We had a very interesting trip through the Vicksburg National Park and Cemetery and on downtown to the Coca Cola Museum. From here, we hustled down to Lorman, Mississippi to the “Old Store,” a 138-year-old store that claims to serve “The Best Fried Chicken in the World.” This is worth a visit if only to have the owner/chef sing to you at your table about his “Grandmother was a Cornbread Cooking Queen.” All old style home cooking and lots and lots of it. With a delayed start we headed out some 230 miles to Monroeville, Alabama to the home of Dave and Tina (more misplaced Sand$ and the best hosts you could possibly imagine. Enroute we tried an interesting road (#552) which after the “State Maintenance Ends” sign turned into an imitation of the movie “Deliverance.” Picture a ½ acre lot with 5 or 6 trailer homes liked together surrounded by 10 or 12 wrecked pickup trucks with 20 0r 30 hound dogs in the yard. The one most concerned was our tail end “Sweeper” who knew that if he had a bike problem, no one was behind him. Even with him imaging banjo music in the background, I don’t know why he was bothered. He just recently moved to Crestview, he should have felt right at home. Anyway, after a great night in Monroeville and super breakfast at the “Old Timers Café,” another 180 miles home. At 790 miles total, a small price to pay for a great adventure and super camaraderie. The Great Chicken Run of ‘07 LeeM - RocketMan I must admit I've been excited about this trip for weeks. Think of it, all the chicken one could eat, not just that, but “ALL The BEST Fried Chicken, one could EAT”, 900 miles of great roads and a few good Sandies, more or less. Does that sound like a Sandie ride, or what? Purchased a great new helmet, Arai…from Barracuda, Keith gave me a good deal. Lisa gave me a New Garmin Zumo 550 for Christmas, got a new bag from D & D (nice bag, no deal) and ordered a new winter jacket and of course, it came the day I left (after I actually took off). Already the trip cost me too much and I had not left my driveway yet. Friday, November 30th, 2007: Day One: 5:00 am Up and at’em, 6:00 am out the door and down the street… oops, can’t power up the new GPS, had a little extra time stopped to fix it (no joy). Got to Sun Plaza 5 minutes early, oops, no I was late since my clock was off (install of GPS that is not working). Weather nice, traffic good, first stop Pensacola for gas, stretched our legs. Thanks to Steve and his handy-dandy allen wrench, popped the battery and fixed my GPS. A beautiful road, colorful leaves raining down, and being tossed about by our wheels hitting the pavement. 2:30 pm: Red truck stops to let our group pass (we had the right away). As I passed the intersection, the truck behind him (oblivious), does not stop. Lot’s of smoke from his tires, front end of his truck folded into the rear of the one that stopped for us. Lifted the bed of the truck, catapulted the contents over the top, and out the sides as I passed by, I was glad to see JoeJoe behind me, come through without harm. Exciting, especially since all Sandies were unscathed… 3:30 pm: Another intersection…looked like a compact car had run a Stop sign, managed to get itself under the flat bed of a tree-hauling rig and was drug at least 50 feet. Entire bottom front windshield of car was crushed in. Only slowed a bit so don’t know how the passenger(s) faired. Good Luck, little guy… Yes, folks these two “scenes” were exactly an hour apart in our travels to Vicksburg. As I look around, I see “girlie” men have taken over motorcycling; what do I mean? The Sheepskin seat covers, backrests, hippo hands, heated hand grips, wind screens, and I don’t want to name names, but I witnessed a Sandie or two with a ROLL AROUND suitcases. What’s next a “Bike Biminy” oh, the sun is too bright… Shame, shame. Day Two: Battlefield drive through; the road was made for bikes--twisty, smooth, and beautiful. Needed more time there, interesting. Next, stop the first Coca Cola bottler. Nice stop, but I want CHICKEN... me hungry! After harassing George to go, he was surprisingly quick to throw us out, I mean let us take our leave and go. So Boo (Mitchell, he picked up yet another moniker), Wheet, Jerry and I left ahead of the rest, for the Old Country Store. Forty minutes later, we arrive only five minutes before the rest. The Old Country Store building looked old and deserted, like something built in the 1930 dust storms, but it was much older than that. The staff said the buffet would be open soon, so we started on the salad bar. They only cook enough food to be eaten right a way. The salad bar had no equal, my sweet tea was the best I've ever had, and the chicken was hot, crisp, moist, juicy, and full of flavor, it was definitely great. This was the best six-dollar meal I ever had; it is worth twice that much. And George picked up the tab. Look forward to a return visit. Close by, was a Bed and Breakfast, Sam and George wanted to check out for a future stay. Long dirt driveway, and I was last to get off my bike, a strange young man on the second floor was taking lots of pictures. As we were saddling up, he (strangely reminiscent of "Bates", think Psycho) came over to talk to me, and I being polite replied. George was quick to leave down the long dirt driveway ..."Hell" they all left me sitting there with "Norman", Gee Thanks. Anyway, we are on our way to the next destination, Dave and Tina's for much needed rest and food. The roads combined the best with some of the worst tire hazards out there. A gas station along the way was all barred up, pumps old; but not classic, dirt for pavement. There was young Doberman with a tree branch in his mouth, Jerry called him over to play, gives a pull on the "tree branch" and we noticed it was a deer leg. Jerry without hesitation smells his hand and said it was fresh. How he knows this, I really don't want to know... We ran late, by the time we made it to Dave and Tina's house it was very cold. Lots of good food, spirits, and the best in warm welcoming hospitality, with a much-needed fire so I could finally get warm. Day Three: This morning, everybody meets up over at the motel that some us stayed at for the night. I noticed a small coolant leak from my bike -- FatCat and Fred started analyzing the leak. Joe Joe got out a very handy pair of needle nose pliers, adjusted the hose and the leak was fixed...thank you all, especially JoeJoe. Got a nice goodbye hug from Tina, better hug from Dave, we need to fix that. If you didn't make it, you missed out; trust me, you don't want to miss it next time!

9 Sandies, fully dressed for this weather, wearing: parkas, heated riding suits, and gloves... okay maybe not that overdressed. We left Good Things Donuts just after dawn heading for Milton. We have previously been to Ace Cafe, but the Ace is closed on Sunday’s. So we went to Cisco’s Restaurant. Excellent food, service was great, and prices were very reasonable. Okay now for the rest of the Adventure. First Tim W is heading for the balmy shores of Sicily . Tim is not scheduled back until the end of October, just before Pumpkin Run (shameless plug). Stay safe Tim we need ya at the Pumpkin Run . Sandy S took all the pictures this trip. The one Sandy took at dawn is a great picture. We were really lucky to have Nikki G along with us . Nikki just makes the trip more fun. Kinda like Sandy but without all the meds. Tony G has a new camera. It does 360 degrees, and I cannot wait to see the final product. Tony takes great video’s so this should only enhance those already awesome videos. Glenn S joined us today, we don’t get a chance to see Glenn that often. It’s always good when we can spend some time with Glenn. Today Frank W showed up with a new, to Frank, ride. Well it was like Frank is not exactly young - how about a 1978 Yamaha 650 dressed in the old Tracker style. There is a picture of it in the gallery now I have included Franks reaction to riding it today. Take it away Frank: Ok I’ll admit to some aging especially riding the older street tracker without almost no padding between the sitting bones & the very stiff frame. Really makes you appreciate the comfortable seats on the bigger bikes. Breakfast was fun. - Frank W It got hot in a hurry on the way home. The Positive from this we got soaked but it was from sweat, not rain. As you know the last few times I’ve been out riding we have run into rain and gotten soaked to the bone. It was a great day, albeit it ended up a hot ride home. -Cat Hearder

The Sand Dollar Motorcycle Club held their August 2023 meeting last Sunday. Sir Robert, Sam E, Ms Edna, the Cat Hearder, JoeJoe, Sheepdog, Tony G, Nikki G, Christina S, SpectreSteve, Munchkin, Jim W, Annie, and your's truly (Bobby B) were able to attend. After the usual business was finished, we broke for lunch... well brunch. It's always the best of times when we go from one restaurant to another! Due to the late start, the sweltering heat had already kicked in. We chose to keep it short. A quick ride to Niceville, and we were inside The Wharf (formerly 850) in little time. The food was good, the laughs were great, and the service was quick considering the place filled up as we got there. I think we might have been trend setters for the post church crowd. Good times to all that could make the ride. Sam E, the Cat Hearder, JoeJoe, Munchkin, Jim W, Annie P, Bobby B, and SpectreSteve (who followed along in the cool AC of his truck) clocked a meager 22-ish miles round trip. Short, but most of us were able to dodge the rain drops and a heat stroke on the way back to our respective lives.

By Bobby B With George canceling the shirt ride, I ended up having a free day. Housework mostly done, missus at work, and the kids away; I got to thinking about how I never stop and get proof along the way for the Grand Tour. So why not start today?!? My thoughts were to just pick up a few of the low lying letters and plan a trip later to sweep up the rest. I picked up S - O - M in about 30 minutes. Well that won’t do, hardly a ride. So sitting in Mary Esther, I was considering going to get the D in Destin, but it was hot. Like climbing quickly to the triple digits hot. So went home for lunch. I started looking at the map and realized with one giant swoop north I can pick up all the rest. A ride was born. Danger and excitement at every twist in the road (and some straights too). The armadillos and inattentive drivers certainly didn’t disappoint! All in all, everything went well. Even the inattentive drivers gave a friendly wave afterwards. Shalimar, FL Auburn, FL Niceville, FL Defuniak Springs, FL Ocean City, FL (the picture ended up being terrible, but I was in fear for my life) Laurel Hill, FL Liberty, FL Argyle, FL Red Bay, FL Mary Esther, FL Crestview, FL

Last Sunday, some Sandies took a cruise and were almost pitched off the Pensacola Ferry. Oh it’s a Sandie Trip, so what’s new? This time Sam was the cause of all the excitement. Yes Sam, who is old enough to know way better. We finished our tour and waiting on boarding the boat, and saw a locked gate that said “ Federal Property no entrance”. You see where this is going don’t you? Sam discovered that she could slip through the gate. Yep, the Federal Gov. locked do not enter gate. I’m standing on the dock with the other innocent Sandies, when I look up to see this white hat heading down the dock toward The Ferry. Sam got to the deck before being intercepted by not one but TWO crew members. They escorted the obviously very dangerous intruder back down the dock. It was so Sandie, two big guys escorting this much smaller very obviously dangerous lady. The crew members opened the gate, escorted Sam out, then proceeded to chain it shut behind the intruder. Yep just another Sandie adventure. Now for the rest of the Adventure: 9 Sandies decided to try their luck on the Bounding Main last Sunday. Well not real Bounding, just across Pensacola Bay. The Pensacola Ferry Co. has an historical cruise every Sunday. It is a docent led tour of Fort Pickens. Our docent, Carl, was extremely knowledgeable. What makes it even more remarkable is that Carl was a volunteer. We were lucky to have a guide with such a remarkable depth of knowledge. Back to the Krewe of Lost Souls... hey any crew that has a Sandy S and a JoeJoe with a dash of Tony G is Lost! We left GTD under darkening skies with Tommy N and Sandy S headed west. We were scheduled to pick-up JoeJoe, Mark S, Lorna S and the aforementioned Tony G. It was an uneventful trip to lunch, remember this was a Sandie trip - food first. We settled on McGuire’s in Pensacola. The Sandies acted like, well, Sandies but we got to stay anyway. See some of the pictures from there taken by Sandy and JoeJoe outstanding. Need to give Tony G a huge shout out. Tony’s videos are simply some of the best. Add Tim W’s video’s and pictures, the Sandies are lucky to have such talent. We arrived at The Ferry Dock, boarded the boat. The smart crew sat in AC while the roughing it crew headed topside: briny deep, salt in the hair, and all of that. The trip to Fort Pickens is simply a great way to enjoy a Sunday. You can buy a day pass and sail around Pensacola Bay all day in comfort, snacks and adult beverages. Arrived at The Fort, disembarked, love throwing in those Nautical terms. Carl led The Sandies on a really good tour of Fort Pickens. Lots of historical knowledge and little known facts. As we headed back to the ship, that’s when the trip turned into a true Sandie Adventure. We were allowed back on board, settled in for the trip back. I noticed that a crew member kept us in view all the way back. It was a great Adventure, we got a great story to tell around a fire on a cool fall night.

Black Creek Diner was a FANTASTIC !!!! Breakfast Ride ,2 Road Captains today ,,BONUS FOR US George in the morning and Tim after breakfast. .and if that wasn't the best " a TRUE SKILLS DAY IT WAS !!!! From tree snakes ,road kill, water build up and you think it’s a DEEP HOLE TO winding almost fish hook CURVES.. to head on a swivel looking for tree rats to Large deer/bear/pigs.. people mounds to large rocks and having your brain do 20 different things AT ONCE.. we ALL get an A++ for skills we had no idea we were about to do.. One of THE BEST DAYS EVER.. from start to finish Radio stayed lit with continuous road skills announcements,, we are successful and well-oiled machine in action NAILED IT PS WE did 150 miles and No rain. -Sandy Have some pictures from this morning's Breakfast Ride to the Black Creek Café in Freeport, FL. We ended up riding 150 miles in up to 95 degree weather and got home before 11AM. Did not get any rain either. Gotta thank Tim W. for the real good route back home from Freeport. All kinds of twisty roads to play on. -JoeJoe It was a great day to be riding, thank Tim W for the roads. Seven Sandies set out for Breakfast. Freeport Café is closed, after 35 years, landlord showed up and said sold the property. Putting in a gas station, wow we needed another one of those. Fortunately the Freeport Café folks had another location Black Creek Café. Food and service outstanding as of old. While Sam and I headed back, trying to catch the Thai Market at the Buddhist Temple. Tim took all the rest of that unwashed mob of Sandie on a romp through the woods of Walton. Getting used to The Spyder it’s going to be a new phase in my motorcycle life. Started at age 12 with a moped , now on a Spyder at 75. At least it’s out on the road with great friends -George

Editorial Note: This article was first published in January 2017. By Tim Murphy One of the benefits of working at an educational institution is that you get a generous break between semesters. And one of the benefits of living near Florida is that, more often than not, you can comfortably ride your motorcycle well into the Christmas season. And one of the benefits of knowing the Sandollars is that they like to ride, and have created tours for you even if you can’t always join the scheduled outings. And that perfect trifecta, my friends, are the fortuitous preconditions to my Sandollar Lighthouse Tour. So off I went with a full day in mind and camera in my pocket to capture some landmarks and document my travels. Every trip starts with such enthusiasm that I want to take in everything. Like that tin soldier made up of painted 55 gallon drums, the classic looking southern downtown diner with its Royal Café neon sign amongst the palms, the elegant stately white Courthouse, or that ‘57 Ford hardtop setting in front of the old filling station. And that’s just 15 minutes out of my driveway! At this pace, if I succumb to the temptation, it’ll be nightfall before I see my first beacon. With a little discipline, I continue down my favorite little back road to get to I-10, but drop below it into some of Florida’s wildlife management areas, or rather skirt their edges. That is, until you make that turn onto Lighthouse Rd to reach the required St Marks lighthouse, then you’re riding right into the St Marks National Wildlife Refuge. But before you do, top off your gas because it’s 10 miles in and 10 miles back without even an enterprising soul with a drum and a hand crank selling petro out of the back of his pickup. Oh, and don’t forget to pack a lunch, at 35mph you’re on that road for a while. But when you arrive at land’s end, you’re blessed with the sight of a pretty white lighthouse with its matching keeper’s house. However you’re best postcard is probably from the beach and they haven’t paved a path down there yet for street bikes, so I did the best I could to work with the tree branches. Saint Mark's Lighthouse Next, after my visit to the eastern most lighthouse on the Florida panhandle, was to just the other side of Carrabelle. The Crooked River lighthouse is named after the (get this) crooked river that runs more or less east-west between the Carrabelle and Ochlocknee Rivers, and with a small port established at the mouth of the Carrabelle, to capitalize on the trading of cotton and lumber it was determined that a navigational tool would be helpful. On the barrier island, Dog Island, a traditional Winslow Lewis tower had been constructed in the early 1800’s, however it was no match for the hurricanes over the years and the location was abandoned after 1873. In the new mainland location, the current less picturesque 103-foot iron tower was constructed. Crooked River Lighthouse Winslow Lewis. That’s a name seen time and time again when traipsing around lighthouses, and for good reason. In 1810, he patented his “reflecting and magnifying lantern” which became known as the Lewis Lens. It was such an advancement in technology that by the end of 1815, all U.S. lighthouses were converted to the Lewis Lens. After holding the contract to supply the oil for the lamps for a number of years, he turned his interest to building lighthouses. There’s an interesting story of how the government paid a highfalutin architect to design a lighthouse on the Mississippi, and Lewis said “I’ll built it, but it’ll never last. So, pay me up front.” Well they did, and it didn’t. Lewis came back to tell them that he could design one at a fraction of the cost and it’d stand a while. Well he did, and it did. After winning the confidence of the US government, Winston Lewis became the principle builder of light towers in the United States that numbered eighty in all. Another one of Lewis’ beacons was placed at the entrance to the Apalachicola Bay. Like other locations along the panhandle, the houses have fallen victim to the powers of nature and have been rebuilt and/or moved around. Such was the fate of the Cape St George lighthouse which now sits at the end of the entry road onto St George Island, looking much more dignified than it had in the past few decades when it was leaning and eventually lying toppled on the sand. On the way to the island, I rediscovered the beauty of the bay. US98 runs right along the water. I don’t know how it is coming from the West, but heading West three or four times it drifts you inland, then bends to the left like it’s going to send you into that vast beautiful blue water. For a few moments, the water is framed by the trees along the road and it looks a picture of paradise. I’m here to tell you, if you regularly spend your days among the cotton fields and tall Georgia pines, this is quite a sight. Cape Saint George Lighthouse Before heading on to lighthouse #4, I’d be kicking myself if I didn’t indulge in the local cuisine. After a morning full of riding, I was ready to sit down to a plate full of an oyster po’ boy sandwich. And might I say, the local cuisine did not disappoint. Also, I would have liked to walk around and peek into some of those Apalachicola shops again, but there were still places to go and daylight’s burning. So, on to the “traveling lighthouse”. The St Joseph Point lighthouse was active for about 50 years in the early 20th century, and then it up and saw some of the country side functioning as, among other things, a hay barn. Unlike other lighthouses, it’s a 1-story building that was on stilts atop Beacon Hill. However now, it’s been restored and it’s a privately owned dwelling off from 30A. I didn’t know this when I started off that morning but got a sneaking suspicion as I drove down the driveway. Not to infringe much more than I already had, I kept the engine running, jumped off, and took my photo. Saint Joseph's Point Lighthouse The last lighthouse of the day, I knew for sure was in a public welcoming area. I was headed for the Cape San Blas lighthouse which was no longer on Cape San Blas but recently re-located to a city park in Port St Joe. The shore of the Cape near the tower was washing away. The federal government was more than happy to sell the tower and its buildings to the city for their park roughly 12 miles away where it should be safe for quite a while. Port St Joe had it looking very spiffy and Christmas-y, donned with a large wreath. And that wrapped up my jaunt for the day. It was time to point the front tire home before the sun set and to get ready for the weekend festivities. Cape San Blas Lighthouse With 5 out of the 6 lighthouses in my camera, one set of Christmas visitor departed and one more set due to arrive later that day, I set off for the East Coast to get at least one more. Amelia Island was going to be the capstone, but the forecast was rain in the morning over there. For a little insurance and to kill some time, I figured I could go north of the swamp to visit St Simons Island, head south to Amelia, then travel below the swamp to get home in time. It seemed like a good plan. The weather was good in Valdosta and good in St Simons, but what I didn’t know was that in just about all that space in between laid thick fog. I made it alright, though. While keeping my right wrist in check, at a safe distance I made sure to place a car in front of me to run blocker through the pea soup. The St Simons Island lighthouse is a picturesque white 104’ tower with a 2 story brick keeper’s house near a quaint shopping area. Like a lot of lighthouses, it’s not the original. But instead of a hurricane, its original happened to go out with a bang. Upon leaving the island in 1862, Confederate troops dynamited the tower and keeper’s cottage so they would be a benefit to Union forces. The current tower’s light first shown in 1872 and today you can walk in the keeper’s footsteps and climb the 129 steps to the top. Fortunately, I already have that “Been there, done that” T-shirt, so my legs didn’t feel they had anything to prove this time. Instead, I hopped back on the bike to Brunswick and back over the soaring Sidney Lanier Bridge on the way to I-95 South. Saint Simons Island Lighthouse As it turns out, I should have hung out a little more in those quaint little shops. Just before I crossed the St Marys River and into Florida, the misty rain started. Fortunately I saw it coming and suited up, but riding in the rain’s still a drag. And once I reached Amelia Island, it became more than a misty rain. That meant it was a good time for lunch down by the beach where they served fresh shrimp, and had a tile floor that they didn’t mind me dripping all over. Like a charm, the rain was about over the same time as my meal. But not such perfect timing, the Monday after a Sunday Christmas is not the time to visit a lighthouse with an active Coast Guard facility on the grounds. Apparently, the federal holiday got pushed to Monday and the locked gate stopped me short of my best photo opportunity. (Interesting fact: this used to be a Georgia lighthouse. Winslow Lewis built it on Cumberland Island in 1820, but the shipping channel changed and the light couldn’t be seen. Cumberland Lighthouse was accordingly dismantled brick by brick, shipped across the river, and reconstructed atop the highest spot on Amelia Island in 1838 to which it is the oldest standing lighthouse in Florida.) Amelia Island Lighthouse Wet and disappointed, I started back home. About a half hour inland the roads began to dry and I was able to shed my rain gear. All in all, not a bad tour. I got to visit 7 lighthouses: 5/6 on the panhandle, including the required St Marks, 1 other in Florida, and 1 in Georgia for insurance. But I still felt a bit insecure about my accomplishments. And then I saw it! An inland lighthouse that works kind of in reverse. Could this be inbounds? I’ve since checked with the line judge to which the response was, “A fire watch tower ain’t a lighthouse”. Well, I had to ask. You don’t know until you try…

Editorial note: This story was originally posted on November 16, 2016. Being a “newbie” to the club and wanting to get out and ride, Howard W decided to tackle the International Grand Tour. He decided to make it interesting and complete it in one day, starting (naturally) from Al’s Garage. Howard searched Wikipedia and compiled lists of cities in the nearby counties. Then he used Garmin’s Basecamp computer software program to figure out what towns within the area generated a route that 1) completed the tour and 2) consumed an entire day of riding. The route started in Shalimar and ended in Milton. Once the route was established, Howard contacted a few Sandies to see if they’d like to tag along. After a blizzard of emails and phone calls, the group consisted of Howard, Tim W, Charles K, Jerry G, and Jim W. They agreed to leave Friday, 11 Nov 2016 at 08:00 AM with an estimated completion time of 5:00 PM. The morning of 11 Nov was clear and crisp—a perfect fall morning. Upon arrival at Al’s, Howard was surprised to see Jim Walters already in the parking lot. Jim had arrived early because, much to Howard’s chagrin, he’d left Jim off of the previous day’s coordination email. Jim, always the good sport, was ready anyway! The first surprise of the day came when two Low Road riders showed up at Al’s before Howard & Co. left on the tour. After a flurry of phone calls, the two lost lambs were twisting their throttles to catch up with the rest of the Low Roaders and then the International Tour group hit the road. After an exhausting 1.37 miles, the group stopped for their first picture at Shalimar’s Town Hall. As the Sandollar in the lower right of the picture documents, this stop satisfied the “S” in “Sandollar MC”. Note: We didn’t actually all take a picture together at any(!) of our stops. The pictures in this document were manipulated in Photoshop making two pictures into one. After a complaint about a BMW engine not even getting warmed up before the first stop and a lot of questions about where we were going next and why, we were off to stop number 2. Just to make it interesting on the way to Niceville, Howard missed the turn onto Hwy 85 so the group got to do their first (not their last!) detour of the day. Thankfully, there was a left turn before entering Eglin AFB that allowed the group to get back to Hwy 85. Howard believes Jim turned a bit grayer after learning Jim had repeatedly yelled into his CB, “TURN, TURN, TURN!!!!!” as Howard continued to go straight. Howard had—naturally—forgotten to turn on his CB so he was completely and blissfully unaware of Jim’s pleas. The Niceville Water Tower completed the tour’s “N” requirement. Two down, 9 more to go. Before Howard could get the group on the road again, a discussion ensued on how we’d get to our next stop in DeFuniak Springs. Howard, not knowing the roads in the area, shrugged and said, “However the GPS takes me!” Much to the credit of Howard’s companions, they said, “OK—let’s go!” The GPS (for once) got it right and took the riders on Bob Sikes Road. The GPS data shows the group stayed right at the legal speed limit of 45 mph for the entire length. (Um…does the club make members take lie detector tests???) The DeFuniak Springs Water Tower completed the challenge’s “D”. Note how the clouds are starting to gather—the weather definitely changed over the course of the day. (Also note this picture was impossible to make it look like we’d all gathered together—Howard is standing in front of the tower maintenance building instead of the water tower.) After the photo, Tim White asked Howard if he’d ever seen the lake. The entire group was surprised when Howard said, “No—this is my first time in DeFuniak Springs.” A conversation then ensued about just what the heck Howard has been doing for the last 18 months of his life. The answer? Work. And work some more. And then for good measure toss in a new house, planning for retirement, etc. etc…just a couple of minor life events! The result of the conversation was an offer from Tim to lead the group around the lake for a quick sightseeing tour. As we were already 30 minutes ahead of schedule, around the lake we went. There is no doubt after seeing the beautiful lake and houses that Howard’s wife Francine will love DeFuniak Springs! As Howard led the group out of DeFuniak he was befuddled by Charles’ flashing emergency blinkers. What could it mean? Did the club have some secret code tied to flashers? Could it be club-lingo for “speed up” or “Hey, I gotta stop”? Actually, it was just Charles committing an “oopsie”. Jim had the fun job of informing Charles his flashers were on while we were underway—not an easy feat. Thankfully it worked out OK because there was also an unplanned emergency call from nature. Now that Howard had his CB turned on, the message was conveyed and the group stopped before leaving the city. The next destination was the water tower in Crestview. While Howard had planned all of the picture locations, he did not (could not?) see the planned parking spot’s slope at the base of the water tower. This led Howard to abort the planned location and execute a U-turn to find a suitable picture location. A graveyard just down the road had a paved road, so the deviation from the plan was minor. Once again there was a conversation about why we had stopped in Crestview, where (and why) we were headed next, and the question/comment, “Is this the Water Tower Tour? If it is, I’m in!” Not all of the stops were water towers, so Howard again went over the list of stops and acknowledged there was nothing cosmic about the route other than fulfilling the tour’s requirements and riding all day. Howard acknowledged there was undoubtedly different cities and towns with appropriate picture locations where they could stop, but the group decided to stick to the plan. Before they left Crestview a few of the riders started to visibly fade due to a lack of sustenance. It was a frightful scene! A line from the movie “101 Dalmations” is applicable here: “I’m hungry mother, I’m hungry!” The riders would have to tighten their belts, though, because there were two more stops before lunch in Opp, Alabama. The ride to the Laurel Hill City Hall was uneventful. As the building is right on the main road, the stop and picture were completed within minutes. The only excitement was making sure Jim didn’t back out into the very busy roadway as he framed the “perfect picture”. The ride to the next “L”, a.k.a. the Lockhart Post Office, had one small detour because Howard’s GPS told him to turn off of Hwy 85 onto Grimes Road. Unfortunately, at the end of Grimes Road is two dirt roads. Tim gleefully sped to the front and pointed down the dirt road while yelling, “Follow Me!” Tim and Jerry’s bike could handle the road, but Jim and Charles’ Harleys and Howard’s Goldwing are not exactly equipped for an off-road adventure. Needless to say, we executed another U-turn. Tim, with a long face, turned around, too. After a quick photo in front of the Lockhart Post Office the group hastened to Opp, Alabama and lunch at Bentons. Bentons is a small Mom & Pop restaurant just across from the Opp High School. All five of us ate a deliciously decadent burger and fries. As usual, there was the usual banter and also a lot of talk about the “best” type of motorcycle. In Howard’s opinion, one of the strengths of the Sandollar MC is that ALL motorcycles are the “best” type. That includes our cadre of three-wheelers. (Sorry, Sharon, but if it has a steering wheel it’s not a motorcycle! Just teasing her, folks…no emails, nasty Facebook posts or hate letters, please. ) After a quick stop for gas, the group headed to Andalusia, Alabama to complete the first “A”. Andalusia is a beautiful town. As the group entered they were greeted by dozens of American flags placed in front of the First Baptist Church along Notch Street. A beautiful sight on Veteran’s Day! The city hall is also a gorgeous building, with well-manicured grounds and landscaping. (Our picture doesn’t do it justice.) Just to make it interesting, Howard led the group down a one-way driveway the “Sandie Way’, as Jim later described it. (Howard always tells Francine, “What’s the problem? I’m only going one way!”) The next stretch was a relatively long ride of 46 miles to Riverview City Hall. Along the way the group encountered multiple logging trucks. As soon as it was safe, they dispatched the trucks and left them far in their wake. The Riverview City Hall in Riverview, Alabama is a small building not much larger than an average house. It had a perfect parking lot and sign for a picture, though, so that is why it was chosen. The group also took a moment to catch up with phone calls and one of the riders made sure an Alabama pine tree growing behind the building was well watered. After a quick comfort break at a McDonald’s for the rest of us in Brewton, the group headed to Atmore which featured a couple of fun & curvy roads. The group arched through the corners and cranked their throttles as they accelerated out of the apexes. It was fun after a day of mostly straight roads! Upon entering Atmore, there was a collective “uh oh” muttered by the five riders as what seemed like the entire Atmore police force was parked, lights flashing, just inside the city limits on the road we were traveling. Thankfully they were NOT waiting for us. At the Atmore City Hall the seasoned club members related stories of “police escorts” through many a small town over the course of the Sandollar club’s history. After completing the second “A” requirement the group headed for their last stop—Milton--under increasingly darkening skies and dropping temperatures. On the road to Milton the hazards associated with riding on public roads suddenly reared its ugly head when Howard (who was leading) encountered a truck that had dumped its load of aluminum recyclable cans onto the road. He waved and pointed like he was having being attacked by a swarm of bees to try and warn the riders behind of the danger. Thankfully, everyone made it through without a problem. The day ended in the Milton Library Annex’s parking lot with the Milton Water Tower off in the distance. This stop fulfilled the last letter—M—in the tour’s requirements. The tour itself was just over 266 miles, but all of us were pushing over 280 miles since leaving our homes. Many of the riders reported they’d eclipsed well over 300 miles by the time they got home. An exhausting but exhilarating day! Howard wants to thank Charles, Jerry, Tim and Jim for their companionship and for making the day so safe and enjoyable.

Editorial Note: This article was first published in March 2015. My Grand Tour ride. I began my ride on a lovely Saturday morning my first stop was Navarre, FL. Leaving there and heading west I arrived in the town of Summerdale, AL. Departing there heading north and farther west my next stop Daphne, AL. Then it is north again to the town of Atmore, AL. But alas I was not to finish my tour this day due to a disagreeable stomach. The next day feeling much better headed out on the next leg of the tour. My first stop this day was Crestview, FL then on north to Laurel Hill, FL. I love the Laurel Hill PO sign “ LAUREL HILL FLA POST OFFICE 32567” When was the last time you saw Florida abbreviated FLA? Leaving there I headed on north to Opp, AL. Next was Andalusia, AL and then on to Red Level, AL. After Red Level I set out for McDavid, FL and the end my GrandTour. But wait I only have ten photos what is missing? I’m missing an L so it’s back on my motor and head over to Lillian, AL where I take my eleventh photo and complete my GrandTour. It was a real joy and I plan to do it again maybe this time with all towns in Florida. Ron J Navarre, FL Summerdale, AL Daphne, AL Atmore, AL Crestview, FL Laurel Hill, FL Opp, AL Andalusia, AL Red Level, AL McDavid, FL Lillian, AL

Editorial note: This article first appeared in August of 2014 **Day One Getting the first two pics was simple and quickly accomplished in the first 30 minutes of the ride. S-teele City, Jackson Co. (16 miles) A-lford, Jackson Co. (18 miles) N-ew Hope, Washington Co. (76 miles) I forgot 79 is under construction at New Hope, with a sea of mud everywhere. I approached the town from the west, coming in on 284 in hopes of finding a city limit sign that was still standing and NOT surrounded by a sea of mud. There was no joy in MudVille, so I pulled into a graveled area to take a break, check my map for the route to my alternate "N" town and suck down some coffee. That's when I spotted the sign for the polling location. D-e Funiak Springs, Walton Co. (116 miles) O-wls Head, Walton Co. (133 miles) L-eonia, Holmes Co. (163 miles) L-iberty, Walton Co. (179 miles) A-rgyle, Walton Co. (194 miles) R-ed Bay, Walton Co. (211 miles) I was going to get a Mary Ester pic before supper, but as I rode past BBH, I realized that trying to find signs and a safe spot to park the bike for the photo in that 5pm traffic, was a terrible idea. supper break at BBH (275 miles) Mossy Head, Walton Co. (316 miles) I couldn't get the picture... Standing on the side of 90, trying to figure out how to enable the flash, in the dark, was bad enough. Then, it started pouring down rain and I had to fumble in the dark with the camera back inside the freezer baggie. When I finally did accidently get the flash to fire, it dazzled both me and the camera... I decided I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, to be trying to figure that out, so I stuffed the camera back in my pocket and headed home. home... (382 miles) **Day Two Since this was going to be such a short day, I rode the Yamaha. I don't have it set up for an old man's comfort yet, so don't expect to see me riding it in Okaloosa Co. any time soon. M-arianna, Jackson Co. (404 miles) C-ottondale, Jackson Co. (419 miles) Home... (429 miles) regards, Joe

Editorial note: This article was first published in April 2014 Terry's Story I was looking at the weather forecast on Monday for the upcoming week and it appeared that Thursday was going to be an ideal day for motorcycle riding. So I contacted my previous Grand Tour riding partner – Devil Duc (Dave M) and asked if he would like to venture out on a 2nd tour. Having already seen the weather prediction himself he just asked where and what time we would meet. We agreed on a spot in Niceville for about 8 am. Well the morning came and off I went to meet Dave. The weather did not disappoint. The sky was a brilliant blue with not a trace of a cloud. The temp was in the low 50’s with a forecast high of about 70. Wind was very light out of the north predicted to change to a warmer southern breeze later in the day. So we met up and were on our way heading north about 8 am. When I planned this 2nd tour I wanted to make sure that we visited towns that we did not use during our 1st tour. The 324 mile route included some contingency towns since there were 2 or 3 on the list that I was not quite sure if we would be able to find something there with a town name on it. We kind of learned that during our 1st tour last year. Just because it shows a name on a map doesn’t mean there is something there identifying it. Our first stop was at the Mossy Head School on Hwy 90. From there we headed up 1087 and over to Hwy 2 where they are doing some road construction on the drainage ditches and have 1 lane closed for a mile or so. While we were waiting our turn we had a lively conversation with the flagman who was extremely jealous of our plans for the day compared to his plans for the day. He did recount their adventure of uncovering a really ticked off cottonmouth - this big around - looking to take a bite out of someone. Once the “Follow Me” truck came for us we were off and made our 2nd stop at Caney Creek on Hwy 2. From there we proceeded over to Darlington and then back south to Leonia. From there we headed east on 185 then south on 81 to Hwy 160 which was going to be a new road for both of us. It was okay with a few turns and some small elevation changes. When we hit the river we headed north on River Road and grabbed another stop at New Hope. So after taking advantage of all the Florida towns we could, we headed north on 81 into Alabama which changed over to Hwy 87. From here on I would be traveling on new roads for me. 1st up on the Alabama towns list was Samson. We by passed a Baptist Church on the edge of town since our last 4 stops were Baptist Churches. We figured that surely we could find another option so we could have some variety. By the time we hit the center of town we hadn’t seen anything so we decided to venture out of town a little ways and decided we had gone far enough and were going to turn around at the next driveway when lo and behold that happened to be the Samson Municipal Complex – Jackpot! Off we went to our next target – the town of Lowery. It is one of those places that if you blink you will miss it. Well we couldn’t find a town sign or Community Center but we did find a Church that suited our purpose. After taking our photo we headed off to our next stop – Opp. 1st thing we did was find some fuel and then headed off in search of a photo op – cheesy – I know. We found “downtown” Opp and in turn a perfect place to take our photo. On our way out of town headed toward Andalusia we were once again stopped for some road construction. A Very helpful flagman suggested we would be sooo much happier going back through town and taking the bypass around town since they were putting down new blacktop and he was pretty sure we would not want any of that black tar splashing up on our bikes. How did he know we wouldn’t like that? So we found the bypass and headed up to Andalusia and then a short trek over to River Falls. We found the Post Office but there was some pretty heavy plant growth blocking the sign so we eased on down the road to find – you guessed it – another church. Take a look at the photo and you’ll see why we chose this angle. Well it was getting to be about 12 noon and we had 10 of our 11 stops already covered. We were feeling pretty good about our ride especially with now warmer weather and still brilliant blue sky. Of course the last stop was on my list of uncertainty and could dictate the extra mileage we had built in to our plan. But being the hour it was we figured we would grab some lunch and see what’s what. Instead of backtracking to Andalusia, we improvised and headed over to Evergreen on Hwy 84 which was about 25 miles to the west. It was a really nice road especially the last 6 or 8 miles coming into town. We found a little Mexican restaurant and had some lunch. After regrouping we headed south on 31 in search of Appleton, AL. The road was pretty cool. We found our cut off and started looking for Appleton. We went well beyond where the town should have been and just about the time we figured we would need our back up – voila – the Appleton Volunteer Fire Department. So we snapped our last photo and started heading south about 1:30. So our actual route for the tour would end up being about 270 miles. I would estimate that about half was on new roads but all of the miles were outstanding. Overall a truly awesome day to be out riding. S Samson, AL A Andalusia, AL N New Hope, FL D Darlington, FL O Opp, AL L Leonia, FL L Lowery, AL A Appleton, AL R River Falls, AL M Mossy Head, FL C Caney Creek, FL

Editorial Note: This article first appeared in September 2013 S – Sparks A – Adel N – Nashville D – Dasher O – Omega L – Lenox L – Lake Park A – Alapaha R – Remerton M – Morven C – Cecil I was looking for AMA clubs in the area and came across the Sandollar M/C. Not necessarily close by, but what a deal, they have a Grand Tour that’s open to anyone. All I have to do is visit towns that will spell out their club’s name. I can do that. And maybe if I can find towns close enough I can try an extended ride with the ’77 Sportster. Do I dare? Not so long ago, on one ride the air cleaner and the turn signal fell off. On another, the rear fender dropped to the tire after all the bolts left me, deciding they couldn’t take anymore shaking. But I think I have enough loctite and nylon nuts now to give it a shot. The weekend finally came after days of searching for cities in an ever tightening circle, and arranging and rearranging the order for the most efficient route. Well look at that, it’s looking like we’ll be blessed with a little more rain. Oh well, another week of sloughing through the 9 to 5. Finally, the rain chance drops below the half way mark for a Saturday morning departure. I’m up before the sun and rolling the bike out to the road. I had replaced the straight pipes with some vintage 2-1 stock pipes shortly after I got the bike. But still, it’s a Harley, and my daughter and her sleeping friend are enjoying a teenage snooze in the room right beside the garage. A few kicks and the adventure begins. First stop, fuel the machine and fuel the rider. This special event constitutes a biscuit loaded with all the stuff I shouldn’t eat if I’m going to live for tomorrow. But it’s not tomorrow, it’s today. To Morven, Georgia and beyond! Or maybe not. Everything was running smooth until ten minutes out on the open road when there’s a little stutter. Especially on the rises. Like it’s running out of gas, but I just filled it.?. I’m starting to weigh my options: Do I turn back and abort the mission? Do I turn back and resort to the trusty Yamaha? Do I hope for the best, that it’s a touch of bad gas? Do I throw caution to the wind and rest my fate to my cell phone and AMA roadside assis- Oh... The choke is still half out from when I tried every combination I could think of to get it started again, back at the restaurant; kicking the bejesus out of the old ironhead. I push the cable back in, and once again, it’s a beautiful day. M’s now in the bag and off to O-town, Omega. Not alpha and omega, but O-mee-ga. A Northern friend had pointed out to me that we have a way with words around here. After another gas stop, it’s time to look at my Google Maps print out, again. I’ve never taken these back roads to Lenox before. Doing good, though. Go to the end of the road and take a right. Then, follow that road for 3.2 miles. Oh-oh, what my printout neglected to note was that one mile down the road, the blacktop runs out! I’m a street rider, and not too sure about this. Fortunately though, the rain had packed down the sandy spots and it’d stopped long enough ago to harden the muddy spots. So, I trail blazed on, telling myself to remember what I’ve read: ride loose, weight the pegs, and keep the COG low. Easy does it at first, but after awhile with every successful maneuver through the minor shifts of the tires, I envision myself sliding around the corners like Chris Carr or Springteen. Oh yeah, maybe I can go into the next one a little more hot? Lucky for me the dirt track came to an end before my imagination caused my end. So, a left here, and a slight right… and then a left? I don’t want to stop again to pull out the directions. I’m sure it’s a left. So, the landscape rolls on. Past the corn ready to harvest, past the early blooming cotton, past the low ground cover peanuts, past that rock in the road… Wait a minute, that rock has legs! Best wishes to you, Mr Tortoise. I hope you make it. Five miles go by. Something’s wrong. I pull over and drag out my directions. Sure enough, this isn’t Old Union Rd anymore. I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque! Time to swallow a little of my pride and turn around. Excuse me again, Mr Tortoise. Not long after, Lenox is captured and on to Alapaha. I’m enjoying the blue highways with no real hurry to get there. Good thing because the 4 speed Sportster is geared more for the Carter era of 55 mph. It’ll surely go much faster, however today I think I’ll keep my fillings intact. With the machine in its sweet spot, the towns beginning to check off the list: Nashville, Sparks, Adel, Cecil. Coming down the back stretch on my oval course. It’s been a long morning, but only three towns to go. Remerton, Dasher. Time for gas, again. You can only get so far on the 2 gallons the peanut tank holds. The engine’s still warm. One kick should do it… I said, one kick should do it… one kick… one kick should do it… Crap. Now it’s probably in some sort of flooded stage that I’ve never figured out how to get out of. 50 kicks later, I’m off toward the eleventh and final photo. Lake Park, and there’s the city hall. I’ll just back it up to the door. They’re closed for the day. No harm done, and nobody will mind if I keep the engine running. Nobody but the Chief of Police! Actually, he was a nice guy and we chatted for a bit. Motorcycles have a way of being a catalyst for striking up conversations. We talked a little more of this and that, and “have a good day.” 20 minutes later I rolled back up the driveway, weary but triumphant. The old Sporty made it around the block, and my task was completed. Hmmm... Looks like we’re going to be blessed with a little more rain. - Tim M. Note: Tim completed his International Grand Tour in August 2013.

Mark does an Iron Butt ride of 1032 miles in one day! (Friday July 12, 2013) I've been listening to George complain about the lack of Sandollar Motorcycle Club mileage as of late. I took his complaints to heart and single handedly tried to raise the mileage tally. As I told you a couple of weeks ago we have moved to Texas to begin our post military life and a second career. Much to my chagrin my 5X8 utility trailer will not hold a 8'9" Cross Country and if you think I'm letting the movers manhandle my baby you've been dabbling in the wacky weed! Thursday I flew back into ValP. I managed to avoid the rain clouds long enough to recover the bike from my friends house and get back to the hotel before the clouds opened up again. The Regency Inn down on John Simms was reasonably priced, clean AND let me park the bike under the overhang out front. Not wanting to get to far ahead of myself I started planning the ride that night. At first I thought I'd try to it in 2 days. But then I said hey I'm tough, I'll do it in one. I mean 717 miles, no problem. And exactly one beer later I decided that 717 was mighty close to 1000 and cool pin and a certificate! Decision made, I'm trying the Iron Butt! Niceville FL to Dothan AL to Birmingham AL to Memphis TN to Little Rock AR to Desoto TX. http://goo.gl/maps/UMta1 0500 and I'm up! Down the hall to check out and there is a sign at the front desk "if you have your bill and its correct just leave your keys and go". Dang it! I was planning on the clerk to be my witness. Three more stops and an hour latter the clerk at the Tom Thumb by the base agreed to "witness" the start. Its a good thing I'm married, Asking a strange woman for an address and phone number turns out to be a lot harder than it looks. Apparently the goatee is not quit as alluring as I thought. Maybe it was just the deranged helmet hair that was scaring them off? For some silly reason I had figured it would take me about 16 hours to cover the 1000+ miles. My plan to be home by 2100 had just slipped to 2200. Hmmmm maybe I should have planned this better. Ok minor delay no bigee. Temps are reasonable but rising quickly and the humidity was off the chart. About 10 miles down I-10 I hit a fog bank so thick I I thought I had been tela-ported to the inside of a ping pong ball. I slowed to about 40 MPH because my windshield was white, my face shield was white and my worthless sun glasses were white. It was about the time that my brain formulated the thought that "Wow this dangerous" that I split the 2 deer standing on the road. The first expletive had not cleared my lips when I hear what sounds like a small explosion. That was the Semi that was in the left lane hitting one of the deer. It was one of those new trucks with the fiberglass/plastic shells. It pretty much destroyed the right front fender. What was left of the deer was not pretty. I don't know who was more distraught me, the truck driver, or the remaining deer. I actually had blood on the BACK of my bike. Oddly enough the fog lifted while we were standing there. OK I'll be there by 2230. Still not too bad. Following the Sandy rule I had my 1st hundred miles in when I stopped for a quick cup of joe and an oatmeal in Dothan. About 200 miles in and the yellow light comes on and I start looking for a gas station. There is no reserve on my bike, when the yellow light comes on that means " you idiot you should have found gas 10 miles back". Pikes Road, AL is not a booming metropolis. In fact I think the gas station I found IS Pikes Road AL. In a moment of perfect irony the song from Deliverance comes streaming from my headphones as I coast in to the station. 5.2 gallons is pretty much the most I've ever put in the tank. Note to self, 180 means find gas. I made pretty good time until just south of Birmingham. According to the radio a semi had dumped a box culvert and all 3 lanes of of I-65 were closed. After sitting in 94 degree weather for about about 30 minutes without moving, with all my gear on, I decided, I needed to detour and quick or I would quickly become a bag of ass soup! 459 to 59 and then back to 65. OK I'll be there by 2330. I'm 300 miles in and I'm already 2.5 hours late........this is getting ugly. All of this put me in Memphis at 1645 which equals rush hour. Another 30 minute delay. Things started to smooth out until the sun went down. It just kept getting darker and darker and darker. I began to wonder if my headlight was even working. I couldn't see anything. After hitting the remains of a truck tire I was beginning wonder if this was worth it. I was seriously considering stopping with 200 miles to go. It was time to stop for gas and I began to think about finding a hotel. It just wasn't worth it. ........and then I walked around the front of the bike. Problem solved. I couldn't even see the head light and the windshield was opaque from the bug juice. 20 minutes of wiping and all was right with world. I could see again. I literally had to go in and buy another towel. My white bike was black. One more gas stop and I arrived 0030 a mere 3.5 hours late. You can add another 1032 miles to the log. Lessons you can learn from me. A little more pre-planning might have made this a much smoother trip. Identify who your starting witness will be before you try starting your trip. Hydrate, Hydrate, Hydrate. For a guy that normally pees every 1.5 hours I only went 3 times all day. Oh by the way I drank a liter of water minimum, between each gas stop, usually two. 94 degrees at 75+ MPH will dry you out fast. Did I tell you it was 90 degrees in Desoto when I arrived? Don't out run your vision. If fog, rain or bugs limit your ability to see, SLOW down. I was very lucky on 2 separate occasions. I should have known better. I now sport a very raccoon like tan. Perhaps a little sun screen and some chap stick would have saved me a little discomfort. Don't try new equipment on a long distance ride. I had a new pair of sunglasses for the ride. They had a slight bow in the arms that did not work well with my helmet. It made for some pressure just above my ears. By the time the sun went down that pressure felt like 1000 degree spikes burning a hole through my skull. Never again. We are privileged to live in a stunningly beautiful country get out and see it. For those that think the economy has recovered, you are mistaken! 2/3s of the malls and car dealerships I saw were closed. It was a sad sight. Take care and and order your food wisely. I will be there in spirit to help you eat it! Mark

Editorial Note: This article first appeared in May 2013. Terry's Story Since becoming a Sandie in March of this year I thought planning and completing a Grand Tour would be a great excuse for a ride. So I planned out a route and knowing it would be more fun to have a buddy I contacted Dave M to see if he wanted to go for a ride. He readily agreed and we looked at the weather and chose Wednesday for the ride. The weather had been great and looked to be the same. Forecast called for Sunny, high 60’s in the morning, warming to about 80 and light south winds in the afternoon. Knowing that some of the towns we may visit may not have available the named locations we need, I had to come up with a few back ups just in case. We found all of my first choices so I will stick with those stops. Dave and I decided to meet in FWB and about 8:15 am we headed north toward our first stop in Milligan. The usual route took us up 85, PJ Adams, Antioch Road and then Hwy 90 to the Milligan Town sign. I brought along my tripod so that we could both be in the photos. Took our photo and headed back toward Crestview. We took Old Bethel, jumped off on Sioux Circle for a scenic detour, back on to Old Bethel and then turned north on 85. After getting our A at the Auburn Pentecostal Church we continued north to our next stop at Campton Assembly Church on 85. But as we arrived, we noticed there was a funeral being held there and it just did not seem right to try and squeeze our bikes in between the parked cars for a photo. This became an “oh no” moment. After a quick conference on the side of the road we decided to head up to Hwy 2 and go look for our next stop at Oak Grove. After that we would head back to see if the service was over and everyone gone so we could get our photo. The other C choice had been Crestview and that was back 15 miles in the wrong direction. But a funny thing happened on the way to Oak Grove – we zipped by a sign directing us down a side road to the Campton 1st Baptist Church. So in true Sandie fashion – we performed a U Turn and headed back to look for the alternate C. A couple of miles down the road – success. After the photo we checked our GPS and it appeared we could stay on this road and hit Hwy 2. So off we went exploring our unplanned route. We did run into Hwy 2 and headed west. After crossing the Yellow River we began looking for Oak Grove but there was nothing there. A few more miles down the road we pulled over for a pow wow. Dave’s GPS said Oak Grove was at the river – we must have missed it among all the trees on both sides of the road. So after our u-turn heading back to the river, we came across a highway worker on the shoulder climbing out of some road equipment. In typical male fashion of stopping and asking for directions, (haha) I went over to inquire about the elusive town of Oak Grove. Well after about 10 minutes of listening to him – seriously it was 10 minutes – I walked away with this information: “had we come by here in the early to mid 1800’s there would have been a Post Office, General Store and Stage Coach Stop all most likely with the Oak Grove name on them. He thinks there was also a ferry crossing at the river. For today – he did not know of any sort of landmarks, buildings, signs or anything else we could use with the Oak Grove name on them.” Interesting intel but not going to help us today. We left thinking we would have to use our O back up stop we took earlier in Ocean City. But as were approaching the bridge we both noticed the very small and very secluded Oak Grove sign on the north side of the road. How lucky for us. Being twisted like it was it is hard to say which way it was supposed to be facing. Oh well. We took our photo and headed east on 2 back to 85. A few more miles north on 85 we came to Laurel Hill. Since we were safely off the road we discussed our next few stops being Svea and then Dorcas. Dave joked about whether or not we would find any dorks in Dorcas. So off we went in search of Svea. Once back up to speed I realized my hat bill was flapping in the wind – on my head – under my helmet. When we stopped for our photo I laughingly told Dave we would be bringing our own dork to Dorcas. We snapped the photo and headed out. About 100 yards down the road we turned south on 393 and headed toward Dorcas. We turned off at the first Dorcas named point we came across on Old Dorcas Road to catch the Dorcas Baptist Church. I was hoping we could head due east toward New Harmony instead of down to 90. But a quick survey we found that the pavement turned to a dirt road and we opted for the pavement of Hwy 90. So we headed back to 393 and south toward 90. Good thing we stopped at the church as we saw no other Dorcas landmarks to use. Deerland was supposed to be on that corner of 90 and 393 but there was no evidence of Deerland – guess it went the way of Oak Grove. That was not a primary stop so no big deal that it wasn’t there. When we hit 1087 we turned north in search of New Harmony. On the way we passed a water tower that beckoned me to stop and photograph. A few miles up the road we captured our photo in New Harmony, checked our directions for Liberty and went on our way in search of the next stop. We headed east on 2 and then south on 331. Observing the surrounding landscape, we noticed a Happy Thanksgiving sign in someone’s yard….things that make you go hmmm. Were they early or late – or is it just a year round celebration for them. Well no time to stop and ask today. We found Liberty and quickly snapped the photo as 331 is a busy road. It was about that time that we realized our hunger was calling out to us. After all it was past noon and that seems a little late for a Sandie lunch. Our route was taking us through Defuniak Springs so we decided to check out the big burger place I had heard so much about – Ed’s Restaurant. After turning off 331 on to 90 we did a quick pull over to capture our letter D at the Defuniak Springs town limit sign. At Ed’s, I decided to order what they were famous for – the Pub Burger. Good “big” burger, lots of fries and excellent sweet tea in a very large cup. Dave opted for the fish sandwich and said it was good. I am thinking it was since he finished it all. After lunch we headed out toward our next stop in Argyle and also looking for some non ethanol fuel on the way. The Captain had told me the night before at Biker Burger meeting there is a station in Argyle carrying all 3 grades of non ethanol. So after grabbing our Argyle photo, we cruised on over to fuel up. But when we got there, the only grade they had was 87. Apparently the 2 higher grades are popular and they didn’t have any. Well I can use 87 and filled up but Dave opted to wait so he could get a higher octane – even if meant putting in that 10% E stuff. Some guy pulled up for fuel and apparently was pretty upset that all they had was 87. He started off ranting and raving to Dave about his boat, then politics then back to fishing when he gave Dave some contact info about some sort of fishing club something or other he invited him to check out. I had to practically drag him out of this guy’s grasp so we could keep going. So 4 or 5 miles down the road we stopped in Ponce de Leon for Dave to fuel up. I took the opportunity to go in and grab a Powerball ticket for the $330 million dollar prize that night. Well I didn’t win but if I had disappeared without a trace I wanted you guys to have a heads up as to why. Out of Ponce de Leon we headed south on 81 to Red Bay and our last stop. After taking the photo, we were recapping the day and talking about our respective routes home. In true biker family style, another bike stopped to ask if we were ok. Awesome. After assuring him we were, he left and we headed out on our way home. After hitting the end of 81 we turned west on 20. At 331 I turned south and Dave stayed west toward Niceville and eventually FWB. So as George would sum it up, 2 Sandies on 2 rides, 12 stops plus lunch, right at 205 miles round trip in about 6 ½ hours of riding and taking photos plus an hour for our lunch stop. It was all around great day to complete our 1st Grand Tour. Next up is a Grand Tour of the beach towns of the panhandle.

Editorial Note: This article was first published in November 2012. Joe B. "Goose", Alex B. and Joel G. "Mad Dawg's" Grand Tour. So there we were, another successful Thunder Beach under the belt, a belly full of some yummy Biker Burger….. But alas, nothing to do the following day. No Sandie ride, hmmm what to do? Joel and I debated leaving early in the morning to ride up to Birmingham to say “Good Morning” to George in his hotel, but the thought of seeing George in his “Cupcake” jammies again had us reconsidering our options. And then Joel had it, the Sandie Grand Tour! But we weren’t going to take days, weeks, or months to do it, no sir. We were going to do it in one day! Joel broke out the map and we started planning our trip. The next morning Alex and I met up with Joel on Okaloosa Island, FL for some breakfast and a review of the plan. Next we made our way down 98 stopping in Mary Ester, FL, Navarre, FL, and then out to Lillian, AL. Then we headed north through Robertsdale, AL, Loxley, AL and Stapleton, AL. By then being Sandies, it was time to EAT! We found “Street’s Seafood Restaurant” in Bay Minette and it was definitely Sandie friendly. They had a very nice country buffet set up and boy was it good. We now set our compass for North East and headed up through Atmore, AL on our way to Andalusia, AL. As a side note we found a free bike wash on the way courtesy of Mother Nature! Thanks go out to Alex “The Aquanut” or otherwise known as “Rain-Magnet-McBell”! Then back home to Florida to Defuniak Springs, FL and then the home planet of skills, Crestview, FL. So, 2 states, 11+ cities and towns, 350 miles, 9 hours later… what can I say… We are Sandies! We ride the Sandie way!

In her own words Our own Debi L. decided to go on an adventure ride from September 8 through September 15, 2012. She started in the Florida panhandle and rode all the way up to New York state and back by herself. Her daily stories follow in her own words: From: Debi Date: September 9, 2012 5:04:28 PM EDT Well, I made it to Sanford.... No easy task! Lol. I left Crestview around 8 yesterday morning to spend the night in St Augustine. My GPS showed it would take 6.5 hours. It took 12. I stopped at Advanced auto parts and a nice gentleman was kind enough to adjust my highway pegs (I have a thing about symmetry). He did well. As I was greeting on I10, the viser on my modular helmet flew off.... Then it rained.... From just east of Defuniak until 15 miles out of St Augustine. I visited numerous rest areas.... The FHP diverted me off I10 at the Havana exit. I followed truckers and got back on I10 at the Monroe St exit and was diverted off I10 again at the capital city exit. I found my way back on again. I also discovered that I cannot put my kickstand down with my boot covers on. So, yesterday 3 nice people put my kickstand down for me at gas stations every hundred or so miles. I was very glad to get to my lodging last night. I stayed for the first time at a bed and breakfast. The Carriage Way B&B. Wow!!!! Fantastic. I was greeted at the door and offered a beverage and chocolate cake(thank God). The accommodations were fantastic. The bath and bed divine. They allowed me to park in a special location. Breakfast was fruit, scrambled eggs and crime brûlée' French toast. I had asked my daughter-in-law to find a motorcycle shop open today so I could get another face shield or helmet so I thankfully left early to pick up that. Well, I couldn't find my keys.... Thankfully Laura had mentioned I should hide a spare set so, I hid 4 sets. I hid 2 so well I couldn't find them. Right before I left, I found them in my pocket.... So, I am cruising again, in the rain and my GPS dies.... I stop at a gas station for gas and asked if I could use an electrical outlet to determine if my GPS would work if plugged in. I was told "no".... I considered shooting him but didn't. I decided it was a fuse and removed the cover and the seat. All fuses looked good. While putting the passenger seat back on, I broke the screw... I didn't really know you could do that. I then tried to charge GPS with the car adaptor and additional power source. Still nothing though power source works and phone charged fine. Laura had encouraged a tank bag with a clear window which thankfully I had and I had printed out turn by turn instructions. I bungeed my rear seat and headed to the train station. I am going to go to Walmart tomorrow in Va and get an inexpensive garmin and put it in plastic cover on tank bag. I have an SD card with my routes on it. I hope I can transfer routes. I see on the garmin site they have apps for Android and blackberry, maybe I can view routes on iPhone or iPad. I don't know. They are not available weekends. I will call tomorrow and ask hem for advice. On the train about to eat. The visor which seemed like a big issue yesterday, has taken a backseat (pun intended) considering my back seat is broken and my navigational device failed. All in all, any day you don't fall off a mountain is good. Debi ------------------------- NOTE: Debbie borrowed Laura's SPOT Messenger device for this trip, so the links below will point to Laura's space on the SPOT website but it is actually Debbie making this trip. Sent: Monday, September 10, 2012 7:56 AM Subject: Check-in/OK message from Debi checking in SPOT Messenger Debi checking in Latitude:38.709 Longitude:-77.22101 GPS location Date/Time:09/10/2012 07:56:54 CDT Message: I'm ok and in for the night. The map will show you exactly where I am. Click the link below to see where I am located. http://fms.ws/9aFU4/38.709N/77.22101W If the above link does not work, try this link: http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=38.709,-77.22101&ll=38.709,-77.22101&ie=UTF8&z=12&om=1 Debi checking in ------------------- From: Debi Sent: Monday, September 10, 2012 9:35 PM Subject: : Check-in/OK message from Debi checking in SPOT Messenger Now that was funny! Yes, there was a certain amount of anxiety. Truth be know, my GPS is what has allowed me the freedom to ride. As a solo rider most of the time, I have to rely upon myself. I will freely admit to being directionally dysfunctional. I only recently learned possibly how to tell directions based on the sun. I struggle reading a map. I researched iPhone apps and though Garmin has a $49.99 Garmin USA app, it did not meet my needs. I called Garmin to review my options. The first rep was not helpful. The second one tried to help me. I needed a computer, not an iPad. So, I asked the Amtrek Supv, went to the Lorton Public Library and The Lorton Volunteer Fire Dept. They were all kind and sympathetic but could not allow me to attach the garmin to a computer and hold the power button for 30 seconds. While looking for Kinkos (rumored to have computers). I saw Allstate, my Good Hands People!!!! They assisted me and allowed me to try to revive Zumo. Zumo 550 had died. She sent me to a Harley Dealership in Dumfries Maryland where I purchased a Zumo 665. Though the sales people were kind, my bike was sadly discriminated against being a Honda and they would not mount the device. I asked a gentleman at an Exxon about where I could mount the GPS and he sent me to Hagerstown MD and I had it mounted and I replaced my visor and cup holder which Wanda will be grateful for. No time for the seat but it is unlikely my seat will fall off riding..... I ate at a Texas Roadhouse and then enjoyed for several hours the reason I came. I ride because it brings me joy. There is nothing like it in the world. There is no one here I need to see. I have no visits to museums, family or friends. I love the outdoors. I love the air, the light, the smells and the sights. That is worth the sweat, the rain and the struggles. The trees are so different. The outdoor rolls. I loved watching the landscape change from the flat and familiar vegetation of Florida and the south. I have never been here. I haven't seen this sky. I got into Bedford, Penn just before dark and am staying at now bed and breakfast number 2. Very different from the Carriage Way in St Augustine. This is the Jean Bonnet Tavern and Inn. It is very rustic and warm. When the wench, I mean proprietor showed me to my room, I was very pleased. The floors are old hard wood with large rugs. It has a gas fireplace that smells like my childhood memories of home. It has the old round doorknobs. Dinner downstairs was served on pewter and beverages were served in ale mugs. I had some soup and cidar. There is lots of seating outside on porches. Again, beats the Marriott or hotels for me so far. Tomorrow I venture into New York. It is 58 here now. I brought my heated suit!!! I am doing a jig. I smiled a lot this afternoon and riding is like childbirth, you forget the pain when you see the beautiful mountains and hills as well as architecture of our Great Land. I will sleep well tonight. The train..... Not so much sleep but the food and service was good. The view was great. Good night, Debi --------------------- Okay its Day 4 but what an adventure Sent: 9/11/2012 From: Debi Today is actually Day 4. We had St Augustine, the train, last night in PA and tonight I am at the Old Library Inn Bed and Breakfast in Olean, NY. Today was fantastic. I have to say, I am truly enjoying staying at B&Bs though I never have stayed in one before. This morning before I left Bedford, Pa and the Jean Bonnett B&B I had wonderful French toast, bacon and fruit. I enjoyed coffee on the veranda as well. Now you can't do that at a hotel. And then, well, I just had the best day. As I was donning my heated gear ( and mentally patting myself on the back for bringing it) you could see my breath. There was nothing about the ride today that was anything less than breathtaking. It was cool to ride through the places I scouted on the maps. I saw beautiful black squirrels. Pennsylvania is breathtaking with it's farmlands, pastures, mountains and rivers. I will never forget today. The red barns and quaint two stories. Towns such as Redemption and Providence speak of the Quakers and signs of the Amish were present though I saw none. Maybe tomorrow. I ate lunch at The Lumberjack Steakhouse somewhere between here and there.... I had a local specialty which was sausage and leeks on a hoagie. The place was great. I was surrounded by murals of early settlers and railroads. The ride into NY revealed magnificent vistas of the Allegheny mountains and forests. Sweeping curves combined with mountain passes and twisties covered by canopies of tall trees with the leaves just starting to change. I am about 2 weeks early. We should make a mental note for next year. Oh yes, I am ruined as Laura would say. My face hurts from smiling and laughing out loud all day long. I was greeted this evening by the manager, shown to my room and all the common areas. Then, she announced she would return in the morning. Myself and the other guests are on our own with the run of the place. How great! I walked 4 blocks and through the town park to eat tonight. There is a fall bite in the air. Dinner was excellent and I brought chocolate cake home. Just in case I get hungry.... I am eating like a horse. The proprietor at the restaurant tonight saw me viewing my regional mad maps. He has a Harley and said if I leave here and hit highway 6 and then 66, it is amazing and it will cover 2 sections of two routes on my mad maps. The drivers have been very respectful on the road and people I meet have been great. The weather is perfect. Several times today I have been truly cognizant of how fortunate I am to be able to do this. I am so glad I did this. I don't want to come home. But, I will, and I will plan to do this again! I wish I could share this with my Mother. Four years ago, I took a class that Wanda, Chris and maybe Michael taught in order that I could obtain my motorcycle endorsement, get a bike and ride. That was the beginning of how this girl from Crestview, Fl got here. Motorcycling has given me the confidence to do new things and enjoy life in a different way. What a fantastic sport. Good night, Debi ------------------------ From: Debi Sent: Wednesday, September 12, 2012 11:02 PM Today was a great day! It started this morning having slept very comfortably last night. They have what I think are called radiators in the rooms for heat. Those in the larger areas are very ornate. I had coffee on the front porch which overlooks the city park. I had breakfast in the DR and was fortunate to enjoy the company of Ginny and her granddaughter. Ginny is about 70, an anthropologist and she came here after giving a lecture at Penn state. She was brilliant, humble and just truly a delight as was her granddaughter. Her studies involve weaving and indigenous people in Mexico. Wow.... Wonderful! It was 48 degrees outside. My mood is exuberant and after a beautiful hour or so, I saw 2 bikes at a diner and pulled in for coffee. I was able to pick the riders out right away. They were the very classy 2 couples laughing. I asked to join them for a cup of coffee and we visited a spell.... It was great. Laura said I would meet great people. While nearing a bridge, I saw over the embankment what I thought was smoke but it was actually a HUGE buck with apparently his butt on fire as he was in a hurry to leap across the road. I slowed and ducked expecting more. None.... Whew. He looked like a small but healthy horse with horns. I saw a dead doe by the road. She was very big as well. They must grow 'em big up here... I enjoyed lunch at the Bucktail Hotel in Marienville on route 66. It is mentioned in mad maps as a roadhouse. It says you must go there and if you do not walk to the "back room it is taken as an affront". I showed this to the owner. Her and her husband purchased it not long ago. They were thrilled. I told them bikers were very important and they definitely wanted the nod from us. Hehehehe. I had a meatloaf sandwich, apple pie and was sent off with a root beer float. I lally gagged around fascinated that my new garmin tells me the posted speed and my speed with my speed typically being in the red. I wandered through Punxsutawney and saw Phils everywhere. Mailboxes, hedges, burgers and on. I laughed and I thought of many things a town might be known for but grateful it wasn't. I ran over a skunk. No odor. That would have been bad. There were several larger carcasses in the road, maybe brown gophers. I saw no snakes. The afternoon was fantastic and around 2 I put my mesh gear on and stopped at a Dairy Queen for a Banana Split milkshake and my visor comes loose on one side. Gee.... So, I went to Indiana, Pa. Yeah, I liked that too and was told that the side plates I got a few days ago were essentially after market and a poor fit. He tried to replace the side plates with the newer version and shield but of course, the screw holes are in the wrong place. They have no extra small modular helmets of any brand. Rats!!! I called 2 other stores, no luck. It seems they have big heads up here. One gentleman volunteered most though were full of rocks. I will keep my eyes peeled for a helmet but I have goggles. Tonight I am at The Heritage House Inn B&B in Johnstown, Pa. The HH is actually the rectory associated with a Catholic Church next door. It is 125 years old. The Assistant proprietor is wonderful. OMG can she cook. I have brownies in bed with me now. I spent an hour visiting with 3 other guests. Very enjoyable evening. Again, this owner left and will be back in am. This is the 2nd night I have been left with someone's home and told to help myself. Wow! Tomorrow is West Virginia.... We did that ride with Terry. Sweet 16. I may have to do part of it if it is anywhere between here and there. My left thumb and shoulder are a little sore. Not complaining though. Besides, I am looking at almost 2000 miles on the bike not counting the train by the time I get home Sat night. She'll ride!!! Good night, Debi On Sep 12, 2012, at 9:36 PM, From Debi and the 5th night B&B > > -----Original Message----- From: noreply@findmespot.com > Sent: Wednesday, September 12, 2012 7:12 PM > Subject: Check-in/OK message checking in SPOT Messenger > Debi checking in > Latitude:40.34272 > Longitude:-78.93344 > GPS location Date/Time:09/12/2012 19:12:30 CDT > Message: I'm ok and in for the night. The map will show you exactly where I am. > Click the link below to see where I am located. > http://fms.ws/9cghp/40.34272N/78.93344W > If the above link does not work, try this link: > http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=40.34272,-78.93344&ll=40.34272,-78.93344&ie=UTF8&z=12&om=1 ---------------------- From: Debi 9/13/2012 Today was another gorgeous riding day. I started out with a great breakfast. Nothing new there. Some egg dish with fried potatoes and ham steak. No grits to be found here. I made a few calls and found a motor sports store with the side plate to my helmet. After I took care of that, I headed into West Virginia. Let me back up. I saved WV for my last full day. I knew it would be the most challenging ride for me. That proved true but the most challenging part of today actually involved an early turn off an interstate depositing me abruptly into the downtown area of some city in Maryland. One way roads and ridiculous inclines among construction areas and homeless people. Uhhhhh. After I successfully got out of there, WV seemed much less intimidating. That said, WV has such a unique look and feel. I got lost a few times and that was ok. I did have to make several u-turns with limited space. I looked at the distance, told myself I have done it many times, can do it and then did. One u-turn was on a road with a significant camber. I just told myself the bike didn't care. I just had to control the engine. I was aware of where I parked and pulled in even for gas. I considered my exit when I considered my possible entrance. I ate in Romney WV where again I found very friendly folks. Tonight I am in Edinburg Virginia at the final B&B. The Edinburg Inn B&B was built in 1870 and was originally a boarding house. Parking was a problem but the next door neighbors let me park on their grass rather than the driveway which just was not doable. This place is not as well maintained but clean and comfortable. The proprietor's live in the back. My room is great. I have sauntered a few blocks to eat at Sal's. I will call it a day soon. Today warmed up nicely and I rode hard most of the day. By noon it was 70. I knew I had picked a good route when every other vehicle passing was a bike. I saw a dead raccoon beside the road. Gosh these animals are big here. Wonder why? Heading for the train in the morning. Ahhhhh. Good night, Debi Okay its Day 6 and here is the SPOT Sent: Thursday, September 13, 2012 6:12 PM Debi checking in Latitude:38.82207 Longitude:-78.56558 GPS location Date/Time:09/13/2012 18:13:08 CDT Message: I'm ok and in for the night. The map will show you exactly where I am. Click the link below to see where I am located. http://fms.ws/9dZh6/38.82207N/78.56558W If the above link does not work, try this link: http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=38.82207,-78.56558&ll=38.82207,-78.56558&ie=UTF8&z=12&om=1 ----------------------------- Well all Adventure's have to come to an end, Debi is on the way home, on the train which is still way cool. From: Debi Sent: 09/14/2012 Well, today was another fine riding day. Sad it was cut short by having to catch the train. I enjoyed a breakfast of Belgium waffles, fruit, sausage and juice today before I left the B&B. The only other guest was a couple who brought up their Goldwing. We admired each other's bikes. The day was the warmest yet. The ride in was great. A truck quite a ways ahead of me lost a load of wood. I quickly pulled onto the shoulder as for some reason I thought the boards were coming to me and I couldn't swerve around bouncing boards. I quickly got off the bike to take cover. Then, I sheepishly remounted and drove around the boards. I did feel pretty special that my vehicle navigated around them when the cars couldn't. I have always been leery of traveling closely being trucks with logs or other objects. My mom had a friend who was decapitated by a log that came off a logging truck when she was a girl and I have always remembered that story. I put my tank on reserve fuel as I ran out of fuel on my way into the train yard. I noticed my bike is coughing a little also. I wonder if the gas is different here? Sorry I couldn't send the SPOT out tonight. No reception on the train. Amtrak tracks run right through Quantico. That was cool. The Potomac River has a green algae all over it but the James river was beautiful. I will drive home after I arrive in Sanford. My grandson has a birthday party tomorrow night I do not wish to miss. Your only turn 3 once. I hope the weather is good and no rain but at least I have my visor. I do miss my bed. I hate to go home. I feel like such a big girl now. Good Night Debi

Our Goose goes on a trip to Kentucky with his son Alex - June 2011 Ah Kentucky, the land of beautiful horses and fast women! Sounds like the perfect place for a HOG rally! 2 Sandies, one ride, one trailer, one cage, and a blood lust for bourbon headed up to Louisville, KY for the 2011 Kentucky State HOG Rally. Prologue: Chris and Maryann purchased an extremely nice motorcycle trailer and I’m not sure they have actually gotten to use it yet, but the rest of the club has gotten plenty of use out of it. Special thanks to them for providing an extremely light and very stable trailer! So, I picked the trailer up Monday night after the meeting, not from Backhoe and Maryann’s of course, but from Bingo Bob and Sandie John. I go to hook up the lights and only have left turn signal and running lights. A little fiddling and tinkering later, I now have left turn signal, running lights and brakes. Close enough to get back to the house. The next night, after chasing wires on my 4runner for an hour, I end up jumping the right turn signal across the control box and now have a right turn signal on the trailer! Who cares if the signal stops blinking when I put on the brakes… Close enough to get me to KY! So off we go! And now for the rest of the story… First day we registered, checked out the vendors, and head out on the Bourbon trail. Riding almost to Lexington, we exit the highway and enter horse country. Amazing Sandie loving roads! Small two lane roads going between horse pastures, rolling hills, swooping turns, beautiful canopied sections, and hand built stone fences. It was absolutely beautiful. And then we found our first destination, the Woodford Distillery. The tour was very nice, when we entered the barrel house I thought it smelled like heaven. Alex just thought it smelled. From a Dad’s perspective, I’m okay with that. Then onto next two, Wild Turkey and Four Roses. We just did a quick hop and pop to get our Bourbon Trail passports stamped and then headed back to the house for some family time with my Dad and daughters. Day Two or Mister Toads Wild Ride: We had signed up for the guided ride to the Makers Mark distillery and showed at our designated time. They were taking groups of 50 to the distillery for the tour and the chance to get a Makers bottle with the hallowed black and orange wax, signed by the president of Makers. I already think this trip is going to be interesting, getting 50 strangers to ride together, but I had no idea… When the road captain briefed us, we were told to ride staggered (okay), and that if there was a blank space to move up (WTF!), don’t criss cross (WTF!). So off we go, and sure enough, a blank space developed to my left and as briefed the person, behind to my left passed me in the same lane. Now I’m feeling uncomfortable. All the passing settles down and now were “stable” going down the highway. Were going 80 mph and all of a sudden I see the rider in front of me bounce out of her seat. In the 1.5 seconds that I now have before I hit the same hole she did, I can’t trust the right side (because someone might be passing) and I have a car on the left. All I can think is “This is going to suck!” and bam we hit. I feel myself lift at least a foot out of the seat and stop because my arms are at full extension and then I feel Alex going a little higher (panic). Then slam, back into the seat and feel Alex IS still behind me (phew!) We exit the highway a few miles later and are now on small two lane roads. Our guides fancied themselves motor cops and were blocking intersections to keep the group together. Sounds good right? Remember the two lane road part? They would be passing the group in the oncoming traffic lane and if a car or blind curve appeared, they would just merge into the group and ride side by side until an opening appeared. I had planned on ditching the group on the way back to go my own route already, but by now I was seeing this as a necessity. The Makers distillery was really good. Again, the smell of heaven for me, but just plain smell for Alex. One part that I was completely amazed by was at the huge fermenters. We were actually encouraged to dip our fingers into the mash and taste it! Very cool :-) And of course the tour ended at the gift shop. But this gift shop was a little cooler than the others. I actually got to dip my purchased bottles into the red wax myself! And yes, I did feel a little like a proud papa! So off we headed (WITHOUT the group!) and had a lot of fun swooping through the turns having a great time into Bardstown, KY to grab a bite to eat on our way to the next distillery. When I saw the name of the restaurant, I knew we had to stop. Mammies Kitchen! And we were not disappointed! Alex was of course satisfied with a hotdog and fries, but I wanted something more traditional, the Kentucky Hot Brown! Talk about YUM! And a Sandie price to boot, only cost $12 for the both of us to eat! Quick stop at Heaven Hill distillery and off to the Jim Beam Distillery. Six total stamps, our passports full, and our Bourbon trail is complete! By the way, in case you had ever wondered where the world’s smallest functioning distillery is… It’s in the Beam house! Makes up to one gallon of moonshine per week, but they only fire it up once a year. Unfortunately… not for sale :-( Final day of the Rally: We joined in the parade of flags, this time with real Motor Cops, not “wanabe’s” and were escorted past Churchill downs, through the University of Louisville campus, to downtown Louisville. Fun ride and then we bolted and went back to the house. Short rally day, but I was more interested in spending time with the “Fam”. My oldest daughter (Phoebe) works weekends during the summer at the renaissance fair in Eminence, KY and that’s where we were headed. Other daughter (Elizabeth), Alex, Grandpa, and I headed out to join her at the fair. Lots of fun and yummy Haggis to eat! Later that evening I removed and replaced the lighting harness on the 4runner and a few hours later, Whamo! The lights on the truck and trailer work perfectly! Over all excellent trip! Hugs and Kisses, Goose Special Factoid: To be true bourbon… It must be: Made in the United States. Made with at least 51% corn. (Makers uses 75%) Made with new barrels. (Old bourbon barrels are shipped away to make scotch, dark tequila etc.) Be at least 80 proof (40% alcohol).

Editorial Note: This article was first published in May of 2011 S – Shalimar A – Atmore N – Niceville D – Destin D – Defuniak Springs (Note: Only one "D" is required to complete the tour) O – Okaloosa Island L – Loxley L – Laurel Hill A – Andalusia R – Robertsdale M – Mary Esther C – Cinco Bayou Corey, my son and I decided that we were going to do the Grand Tour together. The first day we went out, 4/6/11 was a nice day with clear skies. We decided that we were going to try and be in each picture that we took, so that was going to mean we needed to find people to take the pictures for us. We rode about 100 miles that day. We took off from Crestview and headed to Shalimar. Once we got to the Shalimar Police Station, we saw the Chief of Police and got him to take the picture for us. From there we headed to Cinco Bayou. There we meet up with the community policing officer, who was happy to take the picture. While talking with the receptionist and telling her about our mission, she said we should have told her in advance that we were doing the trip and she would have posted a message on the city sign about the SandDollars. After talking with them for a while it was off to Biker Burger, where Joel refilled the most important tanks. Filled up and ready to go, we drove over to Mary Esther and went to the library. No one was out and about, so Corey went in and sweet talked one of the workers in the library. She came out and snapped the photo and it was off again. Next stop, Okaloosa Island. We pulled our bikes up to the welcome sign and I was a little nervous that someone was going to get upset with us being on the grass. So again, Corey was off to find a photographer. Moments later, the Coke delivery guy was taking pictures. Then we headed to the Destin Welcome sign. No librarian, no cop, and no coke guy….. Ahhhh beach bum! We told him about the mission and he seemed real confused. We explained it was like a scavenger hunt and he was all excited to help. So we got our picture under the sign and left for Niceville. In Niceville, we decided we would get the water tower for the background. We went to the city park and found a couple of city workers to help out. I told the worker that we wanted a picture with the water tower in the back ground and he said “You’re not planning on blowing it up are you.” No Joke, after telling who we were and what we were doing, I had to show him my credentials before he would believe me. Then he took the picture. This first day was a pretty easy day, great weather, and a short trip. It was a great way for Corey and I to spend the day together and we meet some really nice people. It took us a little while to work our schedules out and finish the mission. On 05/15/11, we were able to get together and finish the tour. The weather was threating most of the day, but we pressed on. I was nervous as I hate the rain. We took the map, set our route and came up with a trip totaling around 315 miles. The first stop on our day was Robertsdale AL, never heard of it, but it was the “R”. On our way over we had to stop at the toy store, Eagles Talon. Once that distraction was over, and our debit cards were worn, we continued on. We found the police station in Robertsdale. There were two people sitting on a bench in front of the building. I wasn’t too keen on asking them, as people visiting a police station usually are not having a good day. But, Corey seen it differently, he said “We need the picture.” He talked to them, brought one back and got the picture. Just a short drive up the road is Loxley. There we found the post office and set the bikes up for a picture. Then some nice lady who was checking her mail walks out. I ask her about helping us out and explained who we are, and she was glad to help. After talking with her for a few minutes, it was off to Atmore. I was sure the heavens were about to open, because the clouds were getting darker. There was a county building at the city line were we found a welcome sign and a deputy sheriff washing his car. Yes, it looked like it was about to pour and he was washing his car, but he said it had dust on it. He was a nice guy though and we got the picture we needed. We left there for Andalusia with two thoughts in mind. One, we need another “A.” Two, we got to outrun this rain. By the time we got to Andalusia the skies had cleared. We found city hall, after getting lost. Yes, it is possible to get lost in Andalusia! It was 4:30 on Friday, no one around. Corey says, I’ll find someone and off he went. About five minutes later he came back with a woman who was “finishing up some late day work.” She took our picture and reminisced about when she lived in Fort Walton. Time for the next “L”, so we went south toward Laurel Hill. We found the city building, I know easy task. But the harder task was finding someone to take the picture. No, Corey couldn’t even find anyone, so we had to resort to the timer. It was starting to get dark and we almost called it with one stop left. After debating it, we decided we were going to finish it. We made it to Defuniak Springs right at dusk. Again, no one around, set the timer and we were DONE! Felt good to accomplish the mission with my son. Like I said, we had a lot of fun and met some nice people. I’m looking forward to our next trip!

This article contains the stories of the Sandies "in their own words" of their time on the Sandollar Motorcycle Club's annual Low Road Tour into Louisiana from the Florida panhandle: THE BORN TO BE WILD LOW ROAD First of all , if anyone ever has the chance to go on the Low Road Tour never ever pass it up. Everyone is guaranteed a great time, ride great roads, stay at a great place hosted by great folks Doc Pat and Brenda, and hang with greatest bunch of nuts around. Leaving early in the morn head west to fun. I do notice that when we approach Mobile area..we somehow miss going through the tunnels. I'm thinking George avoided them on purpose knowing how the Sandies love making loud noises on purpose in long echo chambers. I do like the fact of missing thick traffic. We make to our destination in good time and still daylight. We are all shown our cabins completely decorated since we had last been there. Oh my gawd...all the cabins had a themed decor! the Swamp, The Harley, and the Love Shack...a la flash backing 60's!!!!!! All were decorated to the tiniest detail...the more you looked the more items were seen...the Harley room had a clutch lever for a door knob...the Swamp had swampy things and the LOVE SHACK...black lights and posters and dayglo paintings!!!! Even the sheets!!! Tiny toy dayglo painted VW bus on the shelf...even the shelf itself glowed in the dark. Turn out the lights and look up...the ceiling fan was painted in dayglo!..I loved it! Oh yeah..guess which one we stayed in. There was a lot of work put into all of them. Of course we all migrate to the eating room and gorged ourselves till we could explode. Steve and a bunch more folks retire early. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Our fearless leader / cat herder has been communicating with an online friend to find just exactly where the last scene on Easy Rider was filmed. George worked very long and hard to get the exact area .We all take off in the early morn to head out to the last scene...the Sandie way of course. Eat breakfast at a cute country style place and join up with some more bikers. We ride some of the nicest scenic curvy roads along the bayous and levees. We see the real Louisiana. Just made me want to start calling everyone Thibedeoux ...so Louisiannian. Some of the roads were at level with the water just waiting for a surprise gator to slide out in front of us. We do stop at the Cajun Village. Some ate..again..and I went shopping. Ride some more flat land twisties and go on a ferry across the Mississippi. Onward we all make it to the final scene!!!!! Was fun and definitely a banner photo op!!!! We even ride over the Hewey P Long bridge. Lots of history with great roads.. the real deal. Time to go back to Pat and Brenda's ...to eat again of course. Tonight..is movie night , complete with popcorn and other snacks. two films that night..outside was playing on the big screen..Transformers 2 ... and on the inside...Easy Rider!!!!! And yes..there was THE scene...WE were THERE!!!!!!!! That's what is so much fun about riding with the Sandies. Riding the Sandie way to get to the strangest goals. Such a blast!!!!!! Next day ..early morn we all head out..to eat breakfast...and say our goodbyes to our Louisiana friends. So much fun!!! We will be back!!!!!! Da Skwirrel ---------------------------- The Low Road What an "AMAZING" trip! I haven't been on a Low Road trip before and I didn't know what to expect. I had come down the Flu the week before and tried and tried to shake it loose so I could go. It took me all week to get over the Flu and Friday morning I was ready to go. The Weather was just perfect for riding and we rolled down some very nice roads. For lunch our mighty road captain found a very nice restaurant featuring Catfish and Steak. I heard we were going to eat good when we got to Doc Pat and Brenda's house so, I refrained from eating too big of a meal and just ordered a hamburger and fries which hit the spot and Pam (aka PK) shared some of her fried pickles with everyone. We then hit the roads again and the miles rolled by and by and by. Going over to Doc Pat and Brenda's house was a long but very pleasant trip. When we arrived, we were welcomed with a big warm welcome from everyone there and shown what progress was made on the cabins since the Sandies were last there. The first cabin was dedicated to Sharon (aka Squirrel) and was dubbed the Love Shack all decorated with a hippie dippy theme including black lights. The Second cabin was the Harley Shack and was decorated with a lot of Harley items and is where David & Tina stayed. The third shack was the Swamp Shack and was decorated in Spanish moss, alligator, tree limb in the ceiling with glow in the dark stars. The first night we were there, we ate a huge feast prepared and waiting for us. Then after some nice conversation and some sitting on the front porch, we headed to bed because we had an early start planned. Boy oh Boy, did 5am come quick. We got up and got cleaned up had some much needed coffee to shock our bodies awake. We departed at 7:30 am sharp and headed out to breakfast. I admit I was pretty much still in a morning fog until the food came. Then we ate a very hardy breakfast and hit I think almost half of the back roads in Louisiana. The roads, folks, was what was truly amazing about this trip. We saw a lot of stuff along the way including, old farm equipment, real alligators, very old homes, and building that it seems time has forgotten and then rode a ferry across the Mississippi River. We rode and rode and then rode some more. George made a tribute to resisting the law by pulling a BIG U-TURN right next to a NO U-TURN sign. I wish I had a picture of us doing that U-Turn in front of that sign. We stopped at a diner and I decided that all I wanted for lunch as a Banana split. I was sitting across from George and he almost swallowed his tongue and started to twitch when I ordered it. He and I were amazed when it came to the table. The Banana split had chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla ice cream, with pineapple, walnut, strawberry, chocolate toppings, then topped with whipped cream and cherries. Hence the smile and goofy look on my face. After the meal we rode out to the final scene location in the movie "Easy Rider" and took a picture on the spot where the motorcycle burned by the side of the road. Then we packed it back up and headed down the road and ride we did, across some amazing bridges and down some very fun roads. The mood of this trip was great. Bob Lawrence, my partner in crime, unfortunately lost power to his CB on the trip. Later that night when we pulled in, with a little supplies thanks to Doc Pat and the skillful hands of our club president Steve we located the problem (a broken hot wire to the battery) and fixed it. I ate some chili, hot doggies, chips, pop corn, and some great pineapple upside down cake baked by none other than our famous David (aka Munchkin). We watched movies out back on a screen that must have been 70 feet long. I had so much fun on this trip and really I would say this was the best Trip of the Year. The roads reminded me of the smoky mountains but, without all the hills. I feel so good to be in such a great club and have such a great road captain as George. I am always amazed how much he knows about the roads and the places we go. Sandie John -------------- Scooter and Da Prince The annual Low Road Tour, always a fantastic ride. Everything was wonderful, weather, roads, riders, and of course our hosts Brenda and Pat. George kept us off the super slabs as much as possible, which we really appreciate. Louisiana is so much different than riding in most areas. It appears all of their state highways go through every small town on the map. I’ve never taken so many neighborhood streets on a ride. And you have to love the town names. What can compare to “Tickfaw”. That’s cooler than living on Country Club Avenue. As we were heading in on Friday night we passed a small corner store. I noted the sign, “Groceries, Cold Beer, Cigarettes, Liquor”. I thought to myself, “If they had ammo, bait and contraceptives, nobody would ever have to go to the big city”. I mentioned this to one of our hosts and was told that yes they have all those necessities, as well as an adult section in the back. Just not enough room on the marquee to list them all. What a great place! Again I chose to tent camp in the front yard. Glad to see all the wild creatures, and neighbors dogs are still happy and healthy. The retarded rooster who crows all night is still alive as well. I’m surprised somebody hasn’t eaten him by now. Scooter again was able to refrain from marking my tent. I was a little concerned until I saw Jerry’s BMW parked near. As we know from last year, Scooter prefers high class on his targets. BMW vs Coleman, you do the math. The food was again wonderful. Brenda outdone herself again this year. Thanks a ton, which is what I weigh after this weekend. Munchkin’s upside down pineapple cake was his best ever. Pat’s outdoor accommodations have to be the envy of the neighborhood. The new deck and outdoor kitchen is great. What a nice set up to entertain friends and family. The riding was awesome. George had some nice roads laid out again. The trip to Easy Rider famed road was cool. Now I can say I’ve been there, got the picture to prove it. I’m already looking forward to next year’s Low Road Tour. It has to be one of our best annual events. Thanks again to Pat and Brenda for all the hospitality. Tim ------------------- My take on the Low Road. Good friends, good food, great roads, good God when can we do it again? It worked for Joe-Joe maybe it will work for me. I'm not a writer but this Low Road was the best ever. Thanks to Doc Pat, Brenda , Mary & Clinton for a great time. If anyone there did not have fun it was their own fault. Sam ------------------ LOW ROADING IT Starting out on one of these Sand Dollar trips is easy. Just pack your stuff, show up on time and off you go! Now the fun starts. A chilly morning yes, but was it chilly enough to stop a bunch of Sandies from heading west for Louisiana? Obviously not! A dozen bikes showed up and were off to the heralded Low Road. (Ask George why it’s called that) Along the way we picked up the Monroeville Sandies. They joined in at Mobile and were ready to roll. No problems along the way, a bit chilly but nothing seasoned travelers can’t handle. Seeing the sights as we go along is part of the fun of motorcycle travel. George pointing out interesting houses, Sam commenting on some and the others pointing and looking at various interesting sights. A nice lunch at the Catfish house on the way, the same place we stopped last year, yielded a wonderful lunch for a reasonable price. Hot food, sunshine and good company. What else is there? Suddenly we were within a few minutes of our destination when George and others spotted antelope. Yes, antelope. And Gazelle’s and Reindeer! No Santa though we did spot some Llama’s. I kept looking for the Polar Bears and Grizzlies but no luck. It was a place called the Global Wildlife something or other. It’s near Livingston, La. if you want to find it. Nice collection of wildlife that was totally unexpected in that part of the world. Arriving at Pat and Brenda’s we were warmly greeted and shown our quarters. The cabins have been finished and remodeled. There was the “Swamp Cabin”, the Harley Cabin, and the “Love Shack”. Guess which one Skwirrel and I stayed in? Yuppers, the Love Shack. Not complaining but it was a bit hard to sleep, Skwirrel kept having flash backs. Or maybe it was some of the Captain Morgan keeping her up late. Whatever, we enjoyed the cabin and the others enjoyed theirs also. Friday evening was a food fest with more than we could eat! Just a normal evening on the Low Road at Pat and Brenda’s. Saturday we headed out on a multiple stop adventure. First, off to breakfast, with some excellent food and companionship. The Christian motorcyclist group joined us for the first part of the ride. They personally blessed every bike and rider. It was very nice of them. Some of us need all the help we can get. Myself included and at the top of that list! They stayed with us ‘till we got to the Ferry crossing the Mississippi. A nice one dollar boat ride and off we went again. We found our route up highway 77 and finally headed back north. Now keep in mind that we were repeatedly told that this highway was a straight, town studded, stoplight filled stretch. We soon find it’s really just the opposite. Not a straight line more than fifty yards I swear! Lots of curves, lots of scenery, lots of NO TRAFFIC. No stoplights to speak of and rarely a town. We had a ball cutting the curves and pointing at stuff that was nothing like at home. Stuff like a river (bayou out there in La talk) running along the road with houses and trailers right on the bank everywhere. Now if you are a fisherman like I am, that sparks some jealousy in you. Being able to sit on the back porch or in some cases, the front porch, and slide a line into the water is like the ultimate heaven. Of course all that is tempered by the fact that now and then the bayou overflows the banks and you end up under water. Hitting the northern end of our route north we headed west on highway 190. Our ultimate goal was coming into reach. But along the way George spots a Diner that looked interesting. It was staffed by local gals who were more than happy to see us come in. Skwirrel spotted a dessert called the “Magic Cookie Parfait” and immediately informed me that I want it. I wasn’t sure I really did, but she said I did so I must have. It was delicious. I watched them make it right after making a spectacular Banana Split for Sandie John. While we waited, the waitress handed us water and sodas and straws. No one told them about Sandies and straws and soon the paper wrappers were flying! Thither and Yon they flew. Until one landed on the waitress. Apologies were made but the waitress just laughed and continued working. A great time was had and the staff made some nice tips. Hitting 190 west again we came across a big ol bridge. Up one side, down the other and then a turn north on highway 105. We were approaching our final goal. Two and a half miles up 105 we saw what we were seeking. A white farmhouse in the distance, a bayou on the left and a levee on the right with an access trail. We unbiked (it’s my story I get to make up words if I want to) and took a short hike a little ways up the highway. Five dashed center lines to the north and we were there! Taking pictures with the Sandies and the banner we completed our quest. We were (so far as we can find out) the first club to visit the place since 1969. We had found and visited the final scene of Easy Rider. The spot where Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda were done in by local good ol boys. Now we have pictures to prove we were there. Even the locals don’t remember much about the movie that was shot there so we definitely had to do some research. A guy George met via the internet researched it and went to find it in person. George spent hours on Google Earth viewing sites and trying to nail down the final resting place of the Captain America bike. Success was sweet. George’s buddy, Steve, did a lot of the actual work and some research but George did a bunch also. Ain’t it grand when a plan comes together? Saturday night at Pat and Brenda’s is always fun! This one was no exception. Outside at the walk in theater Transformers two played while we dined on hot dogs, chili and popcorn. Along with some other goodies. Including a Pineapple Upsidedown cake made by our own Munchkin! Delicious, all of it! Indoors, the Captain Morgan was flowing freely. George sat down for parts of Easy Rider on the little screen and enjoyed himself. I cannot confirm this but—George was heard humming the song “Born to be Wild” to himself during the evening. Now I know he really hates that song but once it’s in your head, you know how it is. Sunday we are all up and about at the appointed time for departure and off we go-to breakfast of course. Same place as last year. But this year there was a difference. This year the waitress didn’t walk out on her job while we were ordering! Yes fellow Sandies, we seem to have overwhelmed the poor lady. This year, new management and the nicest waitress we could have asked for. I’m sure she was properly rewarded. Saying goodbye to Pat and Brenda we made a quick stop for gas and off to the interstate we went. Yes, you heard correctly, we traveled most of the return trip on the Interstate. The Eisenhower Interstate Transportation System was the quickest way home. Six of us departed the group at the exit to Gulf Port while George and the remainder headed to his brothers place just south. The Quick Six (as I like to refer to us—again I remind you, it’s my story and I can make up what I want to call us.) headed out for home. The reason we were in a hurry is a lady named IDA headed north from Mexico across the Gulf. Now we are told it won’t be here ‘till Tuesday but we also figured the rain may get here that evening. So off we went. Hardly an incident on the way home. Jerry “the Comb” G led part way and I led the rest of the way to Navarre where Skwirrel and myself parted company with the Quick Six. Using the Sandie Salute, we bid our companions farewell. Turning onto our street we noticed we have new neighbors. Haven’t met them yet but they looked pretty human from here. Coming into the house we discovered all the pets alive and reasonably well. The Dog still loves us and the birds greeted us noisily. The cat never knew we were gone. The trip was great, if you didn’t make the Low Road, you really need to. But there is no place like home—even the Love Shack. SpectreSteve -------------------------- This was my first and hopefully not my last “Low Road Tour”. It was more than I could have ever imagined!! I had lots of firsts and FUN on this adventure with my fellow Sandies. I hadn’t gone riding westward yet (until I joined the Sandies). I felt like “Thelma and Louise” riding westward through four states. Course, we did not go over a cliff, however, we did hit a street that did not go thru (I saw the sign that told us road ends)….we just kept following like the good little group we are….excuse me….not everyone followed. It just gave us another excuse to do our U-Turn which I knew was coming. I’m just glad that we didn’t take the movie to its end like Thelma and Louise did…..???hmmmm…. I wonder if we would??? Follow our Road Captain that far? Nahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. We arrived at our destination at Pat and Brenda’s humble abode. A Log Cabin Home. Plus, three cabins (which the Sandies help build) and two RV’s. I was fortunate enough to be able to stay in one of the RV’s and it was a wonderful accommodation. Not only were we supplied with a place to rest, they also made fantastic food for all – I could not believe how they took care of us, the entire weekend. It was nice to meet them and also their family. Well, that wasn’t all they did. Friday night, they had made lots of good food. We all sat around and talked and harassed each other as we do. It was fun. Saturday morning, besides starting with Coffee (yum..yum..I luv coffee), we had breakfast in a local town. We were escorted on a great ride through Louisiana. One the visual pleasures of the ride was along Rte. 22, a two-lane roadway along a bed of water which included house boats– awesome scenery….and through tree covered roads which the sun shined through along the routes – beautiful!! After the escorted ride, we (another first for me) put our bikes on a ferry and crossed the Mississippi River. Upon our exit from the ferry, our next destination was to the location of the last scene in the movie “Easy Rider”. Ya know this would make another first for me! We Sandies stood right on the spot with our Banner raised proudly – I could feel the hair standing up on my arms!........…..no, not really…but it sounded good didn’t it ?…hahahahaha. It was very cool and that’s true! I could have sworn I saw a stain on the roadway from where the bike went down – they assured me it wasn’t. The fun did not end there. On Saturday night, we watched, “Transformers III” outside on a BIG Screen that was set up with speakers and nice toasty fire pits. Old Fashioned pop corn machine with popcorn bags, hot dogs, and Chili. Who could ask for more? What a great night! OH Yes, I almost forgot another first – are you ready??? I saw George half naked (no top on, just his pj pants). All I will say is, “I was shocked and envious”. What a GREAT weekend! I enjoyed the entire trip and the wonderful hospitality we received from Pat, Brenda and family. You all are wonderful folks!! Thanks also to George for all your hard work on our trips and in finding the spot from Easy Rider! You are a Rocking Road Captain! Honda Wanda -------------------- Another Sandollar Low Road Tour is in the history books. The 2009 Tour started on a cool Friday morning (November 6th) and wrapped up on the following Sunday (November 8th). I had a good time on the tour following our road captain all around the countryside between Ft Walton Beach, Florida and Doc Pat’s homestead in Louisiana. I rode, I ate, I slept and I had fun on this tour. I’d like to thank Pat and Brenda for opening up their home for our use and for feeding our motley crew. I couldn’t believe all the upgrades that were made to the place too. Each of the cabins are no longer just boxes with beds in them. They now have individual themes with all kinds of interior/exterior decorating. The new deck out back made an ideal place to get together and party along with a fine place to watch our yearly movies from. Brenda’s cookin’ filled the empty spot in our tummies during the evening. Thanks again for the wonderful vittles and the use of your home. Joejoe ------------------------ Pam’s Low Roading Easy Tour My first Low-Road and now I know why I heard if you only do 1 Sandie trip, it should be the Low Road. The ride started with everyone in high spirits, albeit a little chilly one and I believe it ended that way as well with nothing but laughs, delicious food and great riding in between. First Sandie moment came Friday when our apparently illiterate Road Captain blew right on by a huge sign that said ROAD CLOSED 4 miles ahead. Yep, first u-turn of the trip. Holy Cow, did we ride some kinda fun Saturday or what? Memories from Saturday’s ride are ones that will bring me smiles for a long time. Meeting Preacher Terry and all the riders who joined us for breakfast and riding was special and really kicked off the day. Didn’t meet any strangers on this trip, just friends I hadn’t previously met yet. The weather was near perfect and the roads divine. After we exited the Plaquemine ferry (a first for me), we picked up Highway 77 to Krotz Springs in search of The Spot. If that stretch of 77 is not on any roads to ride lists, it should be – it was that good. To top off the day, we found The Spot where the final scene of Easy Rider was shot and took prerequisite banner pic. That night we watched the movie just so we could point and say we were there! We enjoyed lunch in a traditional silver diner car where the waitresses were fun and Moody showed why he is ummm…. Just Moody; ya know. On our way home, we crossed the very old Huey P. Long Bridge (also a scene from Easy Rider) and our apparently illiterate and near-sighted Road Captain took us into another u-turn – right around a No U-Turn sign. Yep, the day was some special kinda fun! Saying good-bye to our hosts Sunday following breakfast was filled with love and promises of future trips. The Lees – Pat and Brenda are the epitome of Southern Hospitality. Their home took my breath away and the Sandie lodging was top notch. The cabin for Sqwirrel and Steve was so apropos – reminiscent of 70’s psychedelic trips. And with the help of BFF Mary, Brenda fed us good with hot and spicy gumbo and Chili that had bowls going back for refills. Topped off with Munchkin’s delicious cake, if anyone left hungry, it was their own dang fault. With much Thanks to Mary and Clinton, HondaWanda and I had use of their tricked out Fifth Wheel. Oh yeah, I also learned there is no time or place constraints for coin-check among this group of vagabond and ragamuffin Sandies. Yep, I owe. It’s a good thing I could stand to lose some poundage since I will be sustaining on bread and water to pay for that expensive lesson. The ride home was a fast & windy one via interstate with a short detour for a few of us to visit with Mark and Linda Engler. I tried so hard not to laugh when Linda told me that her snaggle-toothed, cranky and snarly old lady of a dog was named Honey. It was an exercise in futility. On the way back to the Interstate our apparently illiterate, near-sighted and directionally challenged Road Captain took us down the wrong road and another u-turn caps the day. This was the Low-Road. Generally in life, I try to travel the high road as much as possible. But if people like this are on the low-road, I may have to shake my mid-western sensibilities and change my path of travel. What a trip. PK -------------------------- The Captain & Easy Rider Thursday 5 Nov 0530am, on the road west bound to “Red Stick” (that’s Baton Rouge in English, the explanation of that name is available upon request). Since I saw that it would be 70-degrees that afternoon, I wasn’t dressed for the 48-degree weather and shivered until I reached “Singing River”(that’s Pascagoula, a story for that name, also) for breakfast. The rest of the ride was great to the BMW dealer in Baton Rouge where I hoped to have a malfunction taken care of. The service manager found that he knew what the problem was since this was the third time he had seen it in the last month. The bad news was that he couldn’t fix it then. So I will ride with a warning light on until the Tallahassee dealer reopens. After a short ride to our host’s home, I drove up their driveway right behind Brenda in a fully loaded, large, pickup truck packed with goodies for the arrival of the Sandies the next day. I tried to help out where I could, but it’s hard to follow two whirlwinds like them. I did perform a service that evening by checking out the chili that was prepared for the next days Sandy’s supper. Just to be sure, it took two large bowls of the chili to be absolutely sure it was perfect, it definitely was. The next day went by fast as I tried to keep up with Pat doing a bunch of chores to take care of the arriving horde. The group arrived without incident and all seemed very surprised and pleased with their quarters. Sam and George had their permanent bedroom, PK and Wanda had a large 5th wheel trailer, JoJo had his usual bunk, and I was promoted to the 2nd floor washroom. The three cabins were shared, Tina and Dave in the Hog Room, Bob and John in the Swamp room, Squirrel and Steve in the Love Shack (a step back to the 60’s, black lights and lava lamps included). Munchkin was awarded a whole building to himself, I won’t give details but Pat’s Harley was so teed off at having to sleep outside it drained it’s own battery that night. Next morning, a quick stop at Jack’s café for B’fast, then a quick curvy, bayou ride to the Cajun Village for an alligator, café-au-lait, Beignets and Souvenir stop before a ride down to cross the Mississippi River on the ferry boat at Plaquemine (I’ve no explanation of that name). At the ferry, we split into two groups, one that rode east of the river. The other rode into the Atchafalaya Swamp North of Krotz Spring to the spot that the last scene in the movie Easy Rider was shot. A quick ride across the big river on the old Huey P. Long Bridge (built in the 20’s) to the Saturday night feast awaiting us. After stuffing ourselves, we had an outdoor movie set up on a screen about 15ft by 40ft with out own popcorn machine and 3 fire pit’s going. Indoors we had a showing of the Easy Rider movie to wind down after a fun, busy, exhausting day along with the Captain’s Magic Elixir. I’m glad to see that the marvelous medicinal mixture is slowly gaining favor of some of our more sophisticated members. After a blissful night, we had a breakfast stop in Hammond where, due to a mistake in delivery, one of our crew had to eat two three-egg omelets with hash browns, toast, and order of grits. Luckily, this was given to the only one of us who won’t gain weight from this. I won the “Jeffrey” award, but someone forgot to collect the money, so I guess you can’t win them all. From Hammond to home, it seems that everyone made it safely without any problems. It just doesn’t get any better than that! Jerry “The Captain” Gilbert

Editorial Note: This article was first published in September 2009. On the retirement trip , Bob, John, Cris and I (Mary Ann B.) all decided to also do the Grand Tour at the same time. I mean with riding 1400 miles you would think we would get all the letters, and we did get most, we had to pick up the N and D when we got back. It was a great ride. Our C was found cause we made a wrong turn, our N that we went out of the way for didn't count cause it was a park and not a city and our M was gotten by mistake, We just happen to stop on 65 to help another person on a bike right in front of the Montgomery city sign. Also at the same time we got a call from our Sandie friend Becky and Mitchell asking if we where OK, cause they just passed us on the highway. Not sure what is up with Sandies finding other Sandies up in Al. It was a lot of fun trying to find all the letters. The towns we got were: Steele, AL Ashville, AL Niceville, FL Destin, FL Odenville, AL Letohatchee, AL Luverne, AL Andalusia, AL Robbinsville, NC (finally a town not in AL) Montgomery, AL Citico, TN

The following notes, ramblings and out right lies are about the Sandollar's motorcycle trip from the Florida panhandle to Tennessee and back via Virginia and a train ride down the east coast that started on June 18th 2009. M2’s Reunion Thoughts: I would like to point out before the accusations and recriminations begin that while George did indeed run a number of red lights and stop signs, he : A) was not alone, and 2) could not help himself. He apparently had a thing for the color red, some kind of 'red-rage', If he saw red he had to run it. I swear, once we spotted a pretty red cardinal sitting on a mailbox and George blew by him so fast that the poor little guy will have to hitchhike for the next 6 or 8 weeks while his flight feathers grow back. Oh, and I'm pretty sure we set a NEW WORLD RECORD for U-turns. The people from the Guinness Book called last night and are trying to verify the exact number. More later after I recover... The Great Motorcycle Train Ride The Trans-Alabama Trek Six o’clock sharp. Side stands up and wheels rolling. Cool morning air with light wispy fog swirling like a cape around anything moving. Five miles further up the road the fog changes – gets some character. A dense, thick carpet of fog you can see the top of when you crest a hill. A blanket maybe 40 or 50 feet thick lying on the ground like a cloud come down to earth during the night and caught over-sleeping. The Sand Dollar Motorcycle Club was making a grand motorcycle trip from our home in the Panhandle of Florida, up through Alabama, Tennessee, Georgia, and North Carolina, then into northern Virginia near Washington D.C. where we were to put ourselves and our motorcycles aboard the AMTRAK Auto Train and ride that down to Orlando, Florida then one long day by motorcycle home to Ft. Walton Beach, Florida. This is my version of those events. Actual events may vary. This is the first vacation trip I’ve been on in years and I’m savoring every moment of it. I don’t have a CB radio on my bike like some of the others in our group so as we cruise at about 8 over the speed limit, I’m riding comfortably along in my Joe Rocket helmet and nobody knows what’s going on in there but me. And I ain’t telling. Not all of it, anyway. We eat up miles quick and soon we hit the first fuel stop about 100 miles in, at a little Alabama town that hasn’t changed in forty years except for the model of the cars. We start tag-teaming the gas pumps, everyone topping off tanks whether they need it or not and we all greet Dave and Tina when they wheel up on the Big Yella GoldWing to join us for the next five days. Soon we’re chewing up miles again and the soft rolling hills of central Alabama give way to the more pronounced and rocky foothills of the Smoky Mountains as we near the Tennessee state line. We passed, in the space of less than ten miles, some truly unusual sights: a 30 or 40 year-old double-wide trailer that needed a LOT of work, sitting right next to a brand new barn that was considerably bigger than the trailer. Personally, I would have put the horses in the trailer and lived in the barn. Next up was a tumble-down white frame farmhouse that must have been 60 or 70 hard years old with a late model freshly polished red Corvette convertible in the carport. Rural Alabama is a unique place. We ride in a staggered formation, strung out like ants at a picnic and obey most of the traffic laws most of the time. We will hold this same formation (and attitude toward the law) with only minor variations for the next five days. As we cross into Tennessee the hills and curves become more pronounced. The trees get bigger and there are more large hardwoods and fewer evergreens. Towering live oaks, hickory, maple, sycamore and pecan trees. Big, hardy, cold-weather tolerant trees that don’t care much for Florida climates and really don’t like the beach at all, thank you very much. Our Ride Captain, George Engler, enjoys making light of those of us who expect to eat on a more or less regular schedule, but at this point it is two o’clock in the afternoon. It has been nine hours since I had breakfast and my stomach is growling like an angry yard dog. The place we had planned to eat was closed, so El Capitan locates an emergency backup restaurant that looks like its right out of a movie. (This is not a compliment). The restaurant was an old, rough plank house that had been around for a very, very long time. Definitely dating to before treated lumber became popular. As we approach on foot after parking a dozen motorcycles in a gravel parking lot, I cast a wary eye on the five rough-hewn plank steps leading up to the front porch and recognize the tell-tale signs of serious termite infestation. These planks are not safe and all of us are hungry enough that we troop right up them as though they were made of reinforced concrete. We were seated in an outdoor lean-to room with no air-conditioning. There was one rusty old 20 inch box fan which was placed strategically by the owner’s son so that it kinda pointed in the general direction of the group, but actually blew directly only on Tina and Dave. Dave is a big guy and Tina is pretty. Didn’t take the man long to figure out where to point the fan, huh? Chris Mitchell, John Wender and I got the table farthest away from the Dave & Tina fan (we sat down before the fan was aimed) and we just sat and tried to not sweat on our food. Most agreed that while the food portions were smallish, taste was excellent. This being Tennessee backwoods, there was some debate as to the origin of the meat, but I’m sure it was beef. Pretty sure, anyway. We had been pushing hard all day and logged well over 450 miles. George kept talking about The Pool at our motel. He said it like that, with capital letters: The Pool. I’m going for a swim in the motel Pool. You know our motel has a Pool, right? I can’t wait to get in The Pool. Did I mention our motel has a Pool? We all get to the motel and George announces that he’s going to change and head for The Pool. I didn’t bring any swim trunks but since everyone seems so determined to go for a swim, I did have some gym shorts that I had intended to use as lounge/sleep wear; those would do for a swim. Clothes have to multi-task when you’re traveling on a motorcycle. So I changed and went down to the pool. The only people in sight were: Tina, of Tina & Dave ‘fan club’ fame, a young man who maybe spoke 3 words in 20 minutes and his young, thin shapely girlfriend, plus an angry, scrawny, chain-smoking mountain woman in her late thirties who was really pissed at the young, thin shapely girlfriend. Near as I could tell, it was mostly because she was young, thin and shapely. Oh, and I believe she said the girl was ‘lippy’, and was “Liable to get her ass whupped if she git’s lippy again, bosses daughter or not”. Another member of our group, Pam, arrived a few minutes later and then John came and sat down. The four of us talked about the fact that the pool water Tina and I were swimming in was not the usual clear blue associated with well-maintained swimming pools, but was a shade of green that seemed as though it might be very popular with frogs. I can personally testify that the water was not unhealthy since I got some in my left ear and carried it around in that ear for the next 5 days. It was impervious to swimmer’s ear drops, possibly due to all the sudden and speedy changes in altitude, and finally dislodged the day after I got home and back to my natural habitat at sea level. No harm done, apparently. By the way, has anybody seen George? George didn’t show up at The Pool. No George. Where IS George? Did I mention that George never showed at The Pool? George missed out completely on the interesting green water. On Dancing with Dragons and Snakes. We started out bright and early the next morning, headed for the famed “Tail of the Dragon”. U.S. Highway 129 North from Tennessee through Deal’s Gap into North Carolina. One of the most famous motorcycling roads in North America. We rode it not once, but twice; south to north and north to south. To anyone who has never ridden this road, a word of caution, the road is amazingly curvy; in the short space of eleven miles there are three hundred and eighteen curves. Tortuous twisty curves crawling up mountainous slopes and down valley walls so steep and bendy that they demand your complete, absolute and undivided attention. To complicate matters, once underway you get very accustomed to the vertical rise of mountain rock on one side and the heavily wooded steep gully on the other with the trees growing together overhead - so close and tight it feels almost claustrophobic. Then the trees suddenly seem to fall away on the downhill side and you can see miles and miles of the most breath-takingly beautiful mountain scenery you can imagine. And if you spend more than a micro-second looking at that stunning view the Dragon will bite you hard. Because the next curve is sure to be a 180 degree hairpin, off-camber downhill blind turn. With a truck in the oncoming lane. And the road’s wet. With leaves scattered around. The Dragon never sleeps. On this day, though, I danced with the Dragon with abandon and enthusiasm and glee and focus - all in roughly equal amounts. It was a beautiful day. By the end of the second run I was laughing out loud inside my helmet - delighted with the sheer joy of riding a motorcycle reasonably well through a gorgeous, yet extremely unforgiving setting. Another set of roads that should be famous is U.S. Highways 421 and 133 in Shady Valley, Tennessee along with other, nearby surrounding and connecting roads known collectively as the Snake. There are three mountains that surround Shady Valley and someone has gone to the trouble to count the 489 curves within a 12 mile radius of the Crossroads Store. And if that isn’t enough to make any motorcycle rider start planning a trip, you can also ride through the World’s Shortest Tunnel. No, really. There has to be a shortest one somewhere, right? Well, now you know, it’s 8 miles from Shady Valley, TN, on U.S. Highway 133. If you ride a motorcycle, the Snake is well worth the trip. Naturally, we all rode through the tunnel - all 12 or 15 feet of it- for a photo op. It penetrates a wall of solid rock well over fifty feet high that runs out-of-sight in both directions and the tunnel is the only way through. The one alternative is that someone has thoughtfully carved handholds in the cliff face so you can climb over. Well, the sign said they were ‘steps’ but it did point out that they were very steep and if you were to climb or unclimb them it would be at your own risk. Oh, and the sign said don’t even attempt it if you’re not in pretty darn good shape. They still looked like handholds to me…. The road to the tunnel was one of the nicest motorcycle roads I’ve ever ridden. It contained just the right combination of long sweeping bends and tight little twisty bits where that tail-light disappearing around the corner ahead of you may be your own. The trees grew together overhead in a canopy so dense that parts of the road were still wet at noon on a sunny summer day because the foliage was so thick the sun didn’t penetrate to the ground. We probably got fewer pictures of this stretch of road than any of our other destinations simply because no one got off the bikes long enough to play tourist. Monticello, National D-Day Memorial and the coolest 50s era motel I’ve ever seen. The next day was supposed to be a restful day coming as it did after the first day of nearly 500 miles of hard riding and then day two on the Dragon. As mentioned previously, you do NOT relax when riding the Tail of the Dragon. We stayed at a motel that had obviously been built in the late 1950’s or early 60’s, classic Americana stuff. While it has been extensively remodeled, it was still very retro cool. I remember from vacation travels when I was a kid that all the motels ‘back in the day’ had an old fashioned wall-mounted bottle opener installed with two screws on the door jamb just inside the bathroom door. Sure enough, there it was. Every room still had one. They had been painted over so many times that trying to remove one of them from the wall would probably bring the building down around you. Chris Mitchell observed that a lot of porn movies were shot in places like this, back in the 70’s. Since I would soon be sleeping there on what may well have been a ‘vintage’ bed, I tried not to think about it too much. Previous and protracted discussion of Monticello, home of Thomas Jefferson, eventually caused us to invoke The Burt Rule. The ‘Burt Rule’ is a Sand Dollar Motorcycle Club tradition. The rule exists to help people remember what is truly important in life. If you’re ‘this close’ to some cool, grand, odd or unusual attraction, anything from The Lunch Box Museum to the Smithsonian Institute. Go see it. If you don’t, some day you’ll be sitting around the Old Folks Home and the subject of the Lunch Box Museum will come up and some wise-ass named ‘Burt’ will have been there and then proceed to regale everyone with interesting stories. This, of course will piss you off completely because you had your chance and blew it. The rule simply states that if you are within a reasonable distance of an attraction, you must go see it. Be Burt. Monticello was magnificent. Thomas Jefferson is my favorite U.S. historical figure; Progressive thinker, engineer, architect, manager, statesman, writer of the original version of the constitution, President of the United States. Although he was one of the most impressive and important figures in U.S. history, he usually stated his occupation as ‘Farmer’. He once wrote ‘Farmer’ on the Federal Census as his profession and he was Vice-President of the United States at the time, so we know he had a neat and ironic sense of humor as well. We arrived at the Visitor Center and Museum, which is well down the mountain from the main house and grounds of Monticello proper. Getting to the Museum we followed a rather circuitous route. Captain George spotted a tree covered drive with arrows painted on the ground pointing toward us to indicate that it was a one-way avenue. And the whole group proceeded to follow our intrepid leader the wrong way through several different levels of parking areas. I looked behind me at Chris Mitchell and pointed down at the arrows painted on the ground and held my hands up in the universal gesture for “What the hell are we doing?” Chris gave me a shrug that clearly said, “What can we do? We’re following George.” We spiraled up the side of the mountain until we arrived at a nice, secluded, tree-shaded parking lot that was mostly empty. It was then that I noticed that a number of people wearing security uniforms had been watching us as we progressed through the various levels of parking, all the while going the wrong way. The one who stared longest and hardest gave a shrug identical to the one that Mitchell had given me, then turned and walked away while we got our bikes situated and removed our riding gear. George then pointed out, quite rightfully when you think about it, that tourists drive in an aimless and oblivious manner around our home town in Florida on a pretty much year-round basis and we tolerate it. Some of those tourists are from Virginia. That creates a ‘tolerance imbalance’ therefore; they owed us - big time. We paid our money and signed up for the 8:50 a.m. tour which would begin with a ride up the mountain in a small shuttle bus. We were cautioned to be on time for the bus as they tended to be prompt. After wandering around an amazing interactive museum for 45 minutes or so it was almost time to go meet the bus. There would be just enough time for me to hit the restroom quickly and still make the 8:50 bus. I walked onto the platform AT 8:47 and a grumpy-looking guy standing there in a uniform said, “This bus will take you up the mountain.” And he pointed at a shuttle bus behind him that had only two people and a driver in it, none of whom were members of the Sand Dollar M/C. I told the man that I needed to find my party first and I turned to go inside the doors of the museum to look for the others. The guy said, this time more grumpy and with some impatience, exactly the same sentence, “This bus will take you up the mountain.” I got all righteously indignant and said that I had no intention of being separated from my group. That’s when he finally bothered to explain that, “This bus will take you up the mountain.” meant that the actual 8:50 bus had left at 8:45 with all my friends on it and this bus would take those of us who were late (for the bus that left early) up the mountain to catch-up with our parties. My mind reading skills obviously ain’t what they used to be. We left Monticello in a bit of a rush since we all wanted to see the National D-day Memorial (Burt Rule) and we still had to make our train that afternoon. In the gift shop on our way out one of the female employees asked George if we were the people on “all them Harleys”. Rather than point out that due to the regrettable absence of our good friend Joe-Joe who was unable to make the trip at the last minute, there wasn’t a Harley in the bunch, George just gave her a tolerant smile and said, “Yes”. That’s when we found out that not only had we gone the wrong way through several different parking lots, but we had brazenly taken up the prime tree-shaded portion of the main Employee ONLY Parking Lot closest to the stairs that lead up to the building. Yes, that’s right, that would be the lot where Supervisors and Managers parked. And we had missed the signs because the person in charge of sign placement had not anticipated a large group of motorcyclists would go the entire route up the mountain traveling the wrong way so that all we could see of the numerous ‘Employee Parking Only” signs was the backs of them. No wonder our progress was watched so closely by so many Security people. Apparently, word of the ‘Wrong Way Motorcycle Club’ had gotten around to all the employees and we were something of a curiosity. It’s nice when you can contribute to making someone’s day more interesting. The National World War II D-day Memorial is beautiful, haunting and moving. The scale of sacrifice represented there is so enormous it’s hard to grasp. I will not make light of our time there by trying to be funny. I can only say that if you ever find yourself within visiting distance, remember the Burt Rule. Go. See this magnificent monument to a whole generation of Fallen Heros. They are the reason this is still a free country. You will remember it as long as you live. The Great Train Ride Ever since I was a small child, I have dreamed of riding a train. I don’t mean a three mile tourist trip on an old steam engine, which can certainly be fun, especially if there’s a western-style gunfight re-enactment involved. No, we’re talkin’ a train that’s sleek, modern and fast. A train where you get an upper or lower bed and stick just your head out through the curtains and look up and down the center aisle, like in the old movies. I had always heard that some of the best sleep in the world is that accompanied by the gentle rocking and rhythmic ‘clickety-clack’ of a train. The hauntingly beautiful and lonesome sound of the engine’s horn a quarter of a mile ahead blowing for a crossing was something I have always wanted to hear. We watched them load our motorcycles onto the AMTRAK Auto-Train, the world’s longest passenger train. It’s more than three-quarters of a mile long and capable of carrying 650 people and 330 cars when loaded to full capacity. The Auto-Train really fit the picture I’ve had in the back of my mind since I was a kid; sleek as a rocket and shiny as a new dime. And fast; much of our 880 mile trip would be done at over 70 miles an hour. Two decks – an upper and lower floor on every car. Separate Dining and Lounge cars decorated with modern amenities and a little touch of old world flair. This train and the ensuing overnight ride from near Washington D.C. down to the Orlando, FL metro area was the real reason I had come along on this trip. This train was what set the hook when George called and said, “Hey, you want to go on a nice motorcycle trip?” After the call for “all aboard” at around three in the afternoon, we went to stow our luggage and get settled. Okay, no one called ‘all aboard’. A guy named D.J. unlocked the door on the side of our car and as he let us in one-at-a-time he made sincere eye contact and introduced himself as our ‘Attendant’ and generally implied that his services would be worth a substantial gratuity at the end of the trip. And he warned us, “Do not pull down the top bunk.” D. J. was a middle-aged guy with great hair. It was perfect, not a strand out of place, styled precisely. It may have been one of the best, if not the best hairpieces I’ve ever seen. He also never missed an opportunity to make people guess his age so he could laugh heartily and tell them how wrong they were. Each of the individuals and couples in our group had reserved a ‘Roomette’, consisting of a cute little compartment with two nice-sized and comfortable seats which were surprisingly wide and faced each other. Each seat had individual controls for reading lights, air conditioning and your choice of five different music channels, much like a big passenger airplane. Unlike a plane, there was a really large window which provided a breath-taking panoramic view of the world rushing by outside. Facing the center aisle there was a windowed wall with a sliding door, or you could just pull together the curtains instead of using the door. (Yes! I can stick just my head out the curtains and look up and down the aisle, like in the old movies). There was plenty of room to stand up or reposition oneself. Since I was traveling alone, my gear and luggage fit nicely in the opposing seat and everything was handy, comfortable and cozy. The entire group gradually gathered in the Lounge car where many of us enjoyed an adult beverage or three. There was a ‘complimentary wine tasting’, which, I gathered, meant you keep getting your tiny little plastic wine glass refilled until the lady doing the pouring starts giving you funny looks. Then you actually pay for the Corona with lime that you’d rather have anyway. Now, three in the afternoon is a little early to be starting in on the adult beverages, and would almost certainly get you the hairy eyeball from your mom or co-workers, but we’re on a TRAIN! Besides, there’s not much else to do on a train, other than hang out with your friends and talk and play cards. And drink. Not unlike a Sunday afternoon at home, now that I think about it. The toilets were a study in functional minimalism. They were just wide enough to stand (or sit) and there was zero wasted space. The sink, paper towels, trash disposal, mirror, electric socket, toilet and opposing walls were all within 25 inches of each other. Later that evening we all prepared to turn in and I returned to my ‘Roomette’ to find that D.J. and his hairpiece had converted my comfy little cubicle into a bunk bed. I discovered the reason we had been asked to not pull down the top bunk was that in its lowered position it occupied all the available space in the Roomette. The two surprisingly wide and roomy seats had been modified into a short, surprisingly narrow bed. There was barely room to enter this little bunk vault and close the door. Once you closed the door you were completely committed to going to bed because the only way to get out was to climb up on the bed and turn around. I’m not a particularly large guy and at 5 feet 11 and 170 pounds it’s not like I require a great deal of room. I found it hard to believe that larger people function in these cells, and I was alone in a cell designed for two people! D.J. and his hairpiece had pointed out that he had to move my luggage and it was all on the top bunk. I will never understand how he managed to take a set of motorcycle saddle bags, one small over-night bag and my shaving kit and turn them into a jumbled mess that took 10 minutes to straighten out. Once I extracted my shaving kit from the pile I took it and went down the stairway to the showers. I’ve seen more square footage in the broom closet of a travel-trailer. I stepped inside and closed the door and had to turn the water on and soap up so I could turn around. I didn’t spend much time in the shower. I also didn’t wash my feet. Couldn’t reach ‘em. I returned to my cell and, with a sudden burst of energy and agility, climbed onto the top bunk. My gear was spread out on the bunk below and I just wanted to try and relax and finally experience that marvelous ‘train sleep’ I had always heard about and dreamed of. I lay there sweating from the exertion of climbing up (the next morning I would discover the neat little steps in the wall that would have made this a much easier task) and at that point I realized the roof was about 14 inches above my face. The result of being within 14 inches of the top of a double-decker passenger train car is that you are a good 18 or 20 feet above the road bed and rails the train rides on. This makes for a nice view, but it also amplifies the motion of the car. The effect is like a thin antenna; the higher up you are, the more pronounced the motion. There would be periods of several minutes where you experienced the eerily wonderful sensation of floating 18 feet above the earth at 70 miles an hour, then, suddenly and without warning the train would go through a crossing and whip you back and forth almost violently for 2 to 4 seconds then instantly revert to that almost unnatural smoothness again. This was VERY disconcerting. Somewhere around 2 in the morning as I was slammed awake for what I believe was the sixty-third crossing, I got up to go to the toilet. What had been a marvel of functional minimalism earlier today was now a serious impediment to being able to pee. Most middle-aged men will back me up on this; the secret to getting up and going to the bathroom during the night is that you try to never wake up completely. It’s done kind of on auto-pilot. Just as I had begun to take care of business, the train hit a series of crossings that had me bobbing and weaving like a drunken boxer. It was not pretty. After flushing the toilet, which I swear was louder than a rock concert, I turned to open the door and the door was so unexpectedly close to my face it startled me and I recoiled to keep from breaking my nose, almost falling back against the wall above the toilet. My flailing elbows hit three of the four walls and somehow, I still don’t know how, my right shoulder got damp. Just as I turned the knob desperate to get out, the train did another of those sudden maximum swerves that throw even wide awake people around and it tossed me out across the aisle and face-first up against the wall on the other side. Down the aisle a woman in an upper bunk stuck just her head out of the curtains and looked up and down the aisle. I glared at her until she decided to mind her own business, then I went and crawled into the lower bunk and curled up with my saddlebags and shaving kit to wait out the night. Next morning I got up and dressed early, squared away my gear and went to the dining car for breakfast. All my companions soon showed up and almost all of us agreed; Train Sleep is way-the-hell overrated. Two late-arriving members of our group said that they had slept like babies – claimed it was The Best Sleep of their Entire Lives. I knew then that these two people, a small minority of our party, would soon be going forth and poisoning impressionable young minds with this falsehood. I looked forward to getting off the train. By that time Wanda, Gerry and I had decided to head for home rather than spend the night in Orlando. We had boarded in Northern Virginia on a pretty, sunny summer afternoon with a temperature around 80 degrees, comfortable humidity and a nice cooling breeze. We stepped off the train into a sauna. Orlando, Florida at 9 in the morning was already well over 90 degrees and suffocatingly humid. Central Florida was in the middle of a record breaking heat-wave. Forecasts called for temps over a hundred for each of the next three days. After waiting for the motorcycle carriers to be rolled off the train and the bikes unloaded, we mounted up and went directly to a gas station, then Wanda, Gerry and I waved goodbye to the others who were staying overnight in Orlando with mutual friends, and we headed for home. The three of us got separated due to a mix-up in directions. When Wanda and I pulled over to consult a map, Gerry went flying by in the opposite direction, looking for us. We never saw him again on this trip, which was a shame. He and I had been sharing motel rooms on this trip; he’s a great roomie, a good motorcycle rider and seasoned traveler. I had been looking forward to riding home with him and my friend of many years, Honda Wanda. So Wanda and I wandered around by ourselves just long enough to establish that we were indeed, completely, um, ‘Temporarily Misplaced’. (Men are never lost. If it’s on a road and we drive long enough, sooner or later we’ll drive by it.) Wanda, on the other hand, firmly suggested I dig my GPS out of the tank bag, turn it on and begin the process of getting us back to a main artery road that pointed more or less in the direction of Northwest Florida. For the next forty-five minutes, the GPS guided us through some of the prettiest curves and around the most beautiful small lakes I have ever seen, right in the heart of Central Florida horse country. During the entire time the view in every direction was strikingly attractive and memorable. I’ve never been so pleased to be temporarily misplaced. Plus I had discovered George’s Ride Captain Secret; go get los…uh, temporarily misplaced on purpose, then let the GPS find the way back to wherever you need to be. Seriously cool, scenic, low-traffic secondary back roads on demand. All this time, I had always thought he was bending forward to get a closer look in his rear-view mirrors to make sure all his ducklings were lined up behind him where we were supposed to be. He’s actually been secretly looking at the GPS screen all along! Almost too soon, Wanda and I found Interstate 75 and turned north at 80 miles an hour. Wanda is a good traveler and an excellent rider and bike buddy. We stopped for fuel, snacks and to drink another liter of fluids at roughly 100 mile intervals for the next six hours. When we went through Tallahassee, Florida on Interstate 10 it was one hundred and seven degrees. In the shade. Heat index was 115. I sometimes wish I had never heard of a ‘heat index’, I really don’t even want to know when it’s that hot. I got home, threw my gear in a corner to be sorted later, had a long, cool shower and a Corona or three and was reclining in the air-conditioning thinking back on what an amazing and wonderful trip it had been. Ten interesting and entertaining friends, four very full days traveling over 1750 miles by motorcycle, plus 880 more miles by train, and lots of excellent ‘Burt Stories’. How on earth will we ever top that? All I know is that I really look forward to the next time George calls and says, “Hey, you want to go on a nice motorcycle trip?” M2 The Wizerd of OD The Ride that didn't happen, and the one that did As everyone knows, Mary Ann and I weren't able to go on the Reunion Tour. We were both very disappointed but we decided to make the most of it. We found out that Animal had a couple days off, so we asked him if he wanted to get out of town for the night. Which, he was more that willing to do. So on Thursday, as everyone else was heading to TN, we decide we would head out to Apalachicola. None of us had ever been, so we set out with temperatures in the upper 90's, damn near pushing 100. Doing things the Sandie way, we headed out on Hwy 20, taking the long way, avoiding Destin and Panama City Beach. We finally dropped down onto Hwy 98 just before Tyndall AFB. For it being so hot, it was a great ride. Riding along 98 from Tyndall down through Mexico Beach and Port St Joe was really nice. There was hardly any traffic. Once past Port St Joe, the temperature started to cool off some. When we got into Apalachicola, we past our hotel, so we did the obligatory u-turn (didn't want to disappoint George). Once we checked into our hotel room, and cooled off for a bit, we went out in search of food. We discovered that there aren't too many places to eat there. We ended up at the Marina and had dinner at a nice restaurant called Papa Joe's. Had to wait a bit for a table, but was well worth it. The food was fantastic. After dinner, we headed back to the hotel and relaxed for a bit then hit the sack. The next morning, woke up refreshed and ready for breakfast. They actually had a hot breakfast bar, so that was the perfect start. After we ate, we rode out to St George’s (completely different George) Island. We decided to check out the lighthouse that had just been restored. When we got there, they were filming a short segment that was being sent to PBS. They are trying to get PBS to do a show on the history of the lighthouse. The climb to the top of the lighthouse isn't bad, until you have to climb a ladder through a small opening to get to the light. Talk about your tight squeezes. After the lighthouse, enjoyed a ride to both ends of the island. Then we started heading back home, with a stop at Cape San Blas to see the lighthouse there. Did I mention that the temperature didn't waste any time getting to 100? When we got to the lighthouse, after a u-turn, we decided against going to the top. I don't know, something about climbing a narrow spiral staircase in a metal tube on a hot summer day. Back on the road again, we stopped at Toucan's in Mexico Beach for lunch. After a very nice lunch, we were back on the road home. We may not have gotten to go on the trip that Mary Ann and I have been looking forward to for months, but we made the most of the situation and had a great time, and we managed to log 364 miles. Backhoe Adventures of Smoky Bob Read Bob's story by clicking here [It requires Adobe Acrobat reader] John W. made up a newsletter style story of his trip Read John's stuff by clicking here [It requires Adobe Acrobat reader] David’s Journey, Readers Digest Version It was a misty morning on the 18th. Cool in some spots, warmer in others. Ride to Luverne was long but pleasant. Waited for the group to arrive and off we went. To Mentone to eat at a favorite spot. Well the economy hits little businesses first. Yes, it was closed, but found another one. I'm not going to write a long letter. I'll just say this. If you missed this trip, you missed one of the best. Best people to ride with, best roads (my favorite was moonlight road*), and more fun than I've had in long time. 1800 miles of pure pleasure. D&T David (DeMille) & Tina *Editors Note Its Moon Light Lake Road Jerry’s Re-Journey Thursday, 18 June 2009 started off like most Reunion Rides, O’Dark-thirty at Joe and Eddies with everybody eager despite a number of last minute problems. Thankfully, all but two were solved. Backhoe and Mary Ann as well as JoeJoe had to cancel, to the disappointment of everyone present. The weather was great--cool and dry most of the day with nice curvies to Luverne where we met Dave and Tina and fueled up. All the rest of the day went smoothly with only one anxious minute when Sam's steed had a "hiccup" which was quickly corrected. We had an excellent meal at a small authentic log cabin restaurant that start out as a trading post in the early 1800's. I goofed up, ordered the wrong menu item, and ended up with a bologna sandwich, 1/2 inch thick and 1/2 inch hanging outside of the large sourdough bread and tasting better than I could believe bologna would ever be. I guess it's true that even "a blind hog finds an acorn once in a while". We made a meandering tour all over the top of Lookout Mt. and fought our way through Chattanooga up to Cleveland, TN to a nice motel about 436 miles form Joe and Eddies. Next morning, on the road at 0700 for a real nice ride along the TN/NC border for a jaunt over to Deals Gap for the Dragon Tail" in both directions (636 curves in 22 miles) with a small rest and "photo op" in the middle. You would think that a rider that could do that, could handle a 120-degree turn in a parking lot wouldn't you? As you know: "What happens on the road, stays on the road', so I won't give any name, but if you happen to have a right hand mirror for a Honda 1300ST, I know who's in the market for one. After that, a very interesting ride on the "Foothills Parkway" (a prototype of the Blue Ridge Parkway) we proceeded over to Shady Valley for a short ride on part of the "Snake" to the world’s shortest tunnel. After getting rooms and showers, it was a short walk to a very enjoyable supper at the Lone Star Steak House. For dessert, we were invited for a sunset cruise on Sam's brother’s houseboat. The cruise was not as exciting as the trip to the lake (11 riders in a 6 seat van), but was a perfect ending to a hot day on the road for 326 miles. Next day, my plan was to run up I-81 to I-66 to visit a buddy that had enjoyed a year long vacation flying with me in beautiful (really!), exotic (and how) Laos. As I was cruising along I-81 serenely, I noticed a savage horde rapidly approaching from the rear. Was it Mongols? Tatars? No! Eight Sand Dollars in full flight north bound. Since they seemed intent on making time to Roanoke. I said to myself "what could be better than an octet of heavyweight fuzz-busters running my from door"? After my protection left, at a fuel stop I ran into 3 bikers about my age and figured to maybe impress them with my distance riding until I found out that they were enroute to Canada from Atlanta. My next contact was a young couple with 2 Hondas rigged out for camping. When they said that they were heading to Nova Scotia, I didn't ask where they started from; I simply excused myself and stayed in the rest room until they were long gone. Having been humbled, I finished off my 403-mile day in Vienna, VA with friends. Next morning, I rode 22 miles in D.C. traffic to the train station to await loading. Saw the Washington Monument on the way, and frankly don't think it looks anything like George. If it does look like George, I have a great amount of respect for Martha. The loading of the train, in fact the entire operation of the auto train was nothing short of amazing in their planning and coordination. Great service, great food, great extras (wine, cheeses, fruit, coffee, newspapers, movies, etc.), reasonable price---what more can you ask for? Arriving in Sanford, FL, we were greeted by brilliant sunshine and temperature in the 90's. After the bikes were unloaded and bags tied on, three of us(M2, Peebles and myself) opted to press on for home that day instead of accepting the generous offer of quarters from John (Sam's Brother). We followed the group about 20 miles until we caught a real long red light on US 441. After this, we lost our guide and ended up losing each other. As I blundered along Northbound looking for Hwy 44 West, I reached a place called Eustis. Big mistake! That place should be called Useless. In 96 degree heat, I followed signs saying "US 441 to West US 44" 3 or 4 miles east, then 3 or 4 miles north and 3 or 4 miles west and finally 3 or 4 miles south to where I pulled over a local Cop who didn't know where it was either. He said, "If you turn here, it curves right and when you see a red light, turn left and follow that road and you'll get to Crystal River. I did that and finally reached Perry with 2 miles of fuel in my tank. Here's where the worst part of the entire trip started. After Eustis and 130 miles of US 98 in the sun and 95 degree heat I had a quart of lemonade and 1 liter of water. By Hosford, 98 degrees and 1 qt of OJ and 1 liter water, by Blountstown, 1/2 liter of water and 101-degree heat. By Bruce, it's up to 103 degrees when I stopped for another liter of water. I was so dried out; I didn't get the kickstand down all the way and had to pick the bike up. Ended up with a 418 mile day, but the last 200 miles was the hardest part of the trip. Still, overall, the trip was a 10 plus. Would I do it again? In a New York minute! Jerry Reunion Road Trip or How learned To Love listening to The Mitchell Whine Every Sign pointed to a Road trip from Hell and all experienced Roadies should never buck the signs. We learn that rule from hard experience. First I get home 5 pm Wednesday, still need to finish packing. Take the Cover off my Ride and happen to look down on the floor under Sams Ride, what! Oil seeping onto the floor from Sam's bike. To use a phrase from Ralphie in the Christmas Story, "Oh Fudge", wipe it off, another drop, now what? Called Terry at "Racetrack Powersports", maybe it would just leak a little. He said bring it over. At this point I had pretty much decided, Fudge, I'm canceling, it had been one obstacle to climb over after another. Normally Road Trips require some work, but this one was turning into the Mother of all Road Trips. Such as, we had Reservations cancelled at the last minute when things got overbooked. That led to a scramble for another Hotel, thanks to Mary Ann we climbed over that one. The route was proving to be a pain in the Butt, couldn't get routes to play nice. Thanks to technology it all worked out but it took hours and hours sometimes getting up at 2 am with a new idea, let me tell you Sam liked those mornings. Then again on that same leaking oil Wednesday, Mary Ann called to inform me that Cris had been ordered to keep himself on stand-by for the weekend. I won't do the details I'll leave it up to Cris to handle that, he did the stand-up thing and now was paying the price. That had already put a damper on stuff. You see a pattern, warning from the Road Gods? Or just stuff. I've been riding long enough to lean way over on the Gods side. Back to Sams ride, got it to Terry, oil now really coming out; no way would it have made the trip. Terry and Jason had cleared a lift, put the Bike straight on. Called Sam and told her about the latest complications, she left the final Go, No Go, to me. Terry had discovered an oil filter gasket failure, but it's a pain to fix on a V-Star Classic 05 model. Credit to both Terry and Jason, it was fixed quickly, but I was really behind the power curve now. Stayed up late to finish packing, 4:30 am comes really early when you go to bed at 11 pm. getting ready in the AM, the phone rings, Now what? it's JoeJoe, Harley won't start, dead, battery fully charged; JoeJoe was getting ready to pull the plug. I told him to try some other stuff, but my doubts were really at the surface now. JoeJoe called back, no go, he was out. Now my alarm bells were really ringing now. In all my 25+ years of leading Road Trips nothing like this had ever happened before. It was if their had been a cosmic convergence of signs telling me not do this stupid. But I figured I owed it to everyone that I should at least tell everyone in person that I'm backing out of the Trip. Got down to Joe's and Wanda a.k.a. Pebbles, (another story), was ready and rar'n to go. I told her that I was backing out; she was up-set, understood, but still up-set. she said that with all that happened, all the bad Ju-Ju was sucked off the Trip, weird but still...... I knew Sam wanted to go, PK, M2, Jerry G, Dave & Tina, John W and Bob L all were really counting on going. I decided to go provisionally, if anything else happened I was really going home. The Mitch had the route, all accommodations were set-up etc; it could be done without me. So it’s off on a new Sandie adventure, meet Dave and Tina in Luverne. Temperatures are right, pretty early summer morning in the Deep South. The air had an indolent feel to it, you know, lazy but still perky a little. Left Luverne heading up 331, when over the radio, "Sams bike just stopped" then nothing, Oh Fudge now what, u-turn on a busy 2 lane and head back. by the time I got there Sam's bike was running. Seems it just died, I got ready to pull the pin on this Adventure, when my wonderful wife revealed that her rear-view mirror had come loose. In trying to push it back, her jacket sleeve hit the kill switch. M2 quietly pointed it out to her as the rest of the Sandies got ready to disassemble the Bike on the side of the highway. Okay, its onward on this really messed up so far Road Trip. But one more and, well you know. Made it to Mentone Al, terrific ride getting there from Gadsden Al. It really picked my spirits up, maybe, just maybe. Then we found out the super bakery and sandwich shop was now a Real Estate, a closed Real Estate office, but. Went back up the street saw an old log cabin set-up as an Restaurant, what the heck, give it a try. Good folks who were running it really tried to make us comfortable, food was pretty good. Not alot of whining, well maybe The Mitch, but he is a professional; it's a job requirement for him. Back on the Road, had our typical Chattanooga highway frazzle, oh yea it was hot; God was it hot on that highway. All I wanted was a hotel room with a working A/C a really well working A/C. Got to the hotel and yes our room had one cold pumping A/C unit. Maybe this trip will work out. Other folks can tell you about, The Dragon, Snake etc. The next day while looking for a lunch spot, I had been having to listen to the plaintive "I'm hungry" from The Duk, the Big Mitch, and some M2. You know around any food time, lunch etc, Sandies begin to resemble little birds in a nest all yelling for food. You would think they were starving to death, having ridden for days without food. Do you really wonder why I have gray hair? I spotted a sign "Baked Ziti" I turned into a gas station /convenience store with a little Italian Restaurant on one end and a Queznos on the other. I could already hear the Mitch muttering, for someone that wants to eat a lot, he can sure be picky. Oh well being Road Captain means having the kids up-set at you sometimes, comes with the job. The Italian Restaurant turned out to be this incredible little Mom & Pop restaurant. The owner met us, explained the choices. I spotted Osseo Boca or pork shanks in sauce on the menu, at a very reasonable price. Now I asked myself, why in gods name is a restaurant attached to a gas station, in middle Tennessee on a 2-lane road serving Osseo Boca? This is not a difficult dish to make, but you usually see it in up-scale Italian restaurants, not in a gas station attached Pizza joint. What the heck I'll try it, God it was good, hell, and fellow Sandies it was incredible. Some of the best I ever had. It came with homemade garlic bread; salad was made fresh to order. Everyone said the same things about their food, "fantastic, awesome, God this is to die for". Again the luck of The Road Captain had held. You know being Road Captain is a lot of fun as long as everyone understands that you can't hit a home run every time and goes with the flow. The Big Mitch found out later what it's like to try and find a restaurant in a place you've never been to and hope it appeals to most Roadies traveling with you. We did 2 u-turns in the same spot, a Sandie first, looking for a restaurant in Bedford Va. Found an okay BBQ joint in Bedford, kinda strange place, but it was all homemade food, pretty good. All I'm saying is that the attitude of the people on the Road Trip make or break a Trip. My other real Road Captain moment was when the Burt Rule was invoked, because of the flexibility of this Crew; we changed plans and went somewhere else on this Trip, The D-Day Memorial and Monticello, Thomas Jefferson's home all because of the Burt Rule. Admittedly I added Monticello at the last minute. We got into Charlottesville VA hot and tired. Our motel was a 70's Motel with some up-grades; it was pure retro down to the bottle opener in the bathroom. Pam and Wanda had to do the room shuffle, did they complain, not that I could hear. Besides the sheets were clean, the TV worked and best of all the A/C pumped very cold air. Besides The Big Mitch's contention that 70's porn movies had to have been made there, set me to wondering what was someone as young as Mitch watching hokey 70's porn anyway? That night at dinner I asked if anyone wanted to sleep late and we would pick them up as we came back through Charlottesville. Everyone voted to get up early again and head for Monticello. The Museum there was incredible; it had the most thought provoking Multimedia display I have ever seen. I am glad I was privileged enough to share this Road Experience with these great Sandies My frame of mind Thursday morning was one of I need to stay home. But the attitude of everyone on this most incredible Road trip certainly changed my own attitude. When things were a little miserable, not going quite right, these folks came through, yes, even Big Mitch pulled through when it counted. We laughed until our sides hurt, we shared riding in heavy traffic in the heat, restaurants that were well, different, not bad just different. Older Motels that were again well different clean, cold but still older Motels. Everyone crammed into a van so tight that the van bottomed out on every small bump and Wanda's well, gas issue, we still had a ball. On the train it was the fun of watching good friends sharing the experience, playing cards, watching Big Mitch make up the rules and PK still smoking him. Sitting on a porch with my fellow Sandies, on a hot lazy June afternoon and being transported back to June 20th 1865 in Appomattox Courthouse Village Virginia, by the tales of a young Confederate soldier. I'm glad now that I listened to my heart and not my head and pulled out onto Eglin Parkway that early warm June morning, turning the handle bars North and riding into one of the best adventures of my life. My thanks to all of you, to Johnny and Becky Martin for their great hospitality on a brutally hot June afternoon in central Florida. To Mike and Linda Martin for an incredible sunset boat ride on the worlds 2nd cleanest lake( no one knows were number 1 is). A very heartfelt Thank You to the Hooligans at Racetrack Powersports ( Terry, Chris S and yes even Jason) for all the last minute repair work on Sams Bike. To all you great Sandies, M2, Wanda, PK, Jerry, Big Mitch, Dave ( The Duk), Tina, Terry C, Sandie John W, Bob L, even The Beckmiester and especially my wife and best friend Sam. All of you helped make this such a great adventure with your positive attitude, your incredible sense of fun and your willingness to try new things and enjoy doing it. These are the attributes that make a good Road Trip great and this one certainly was the Greatest, thank you. George REUNION TOUR 2009 My first trip as a Sandie and I pick a 5 day trip with these people, what the heck was I thinkin’? Thursday: The mood around the breakfast table was rather somber; the 24 hours leading up to the trip hadn’t been so good for fellow Sandies ready to take the trip. Seems Backhoe showed his character and mettle by standing up for someone at work and the powers that be decided he needed to be available over the weekend “just in case” someone needed to speak to him. Bummer. Then the morning of the trip, JoeJoe’s bike wouldn’t start so his trip was cancelled at the last minute. ‘Nother Bummer! When early into the trip, Sam’s bike shut off, I thought for sure “that’s 3. George is turning this train around.” Fortunately, not a mechanical issue with bike and we rolled on. First reunion of this reunion trip happened in Luverne, AL where Dave and Tina joined us. There I learned that Tina has da powah. Five minutes of them arriving and she has the Mitchell on his knees. Not sure what was in that white paper bag she handed over because he was clutching it close to his chest and was he going to share with his friends? I fear that any Sandie hand that came close to inspecting said contents was going to get lopped off. Up until we hit the concrete perdition otherwise known as the Chattanooga highway infrastructure, we rode some beautiful and fun roads. The view and the run along the road on Lookout Mountain were spectacular. Unfortunately, we did have to navigate the Chattanooga highway system and it is a good thing our stop for the night was not long after because I was mentally done. Oh, but Mr. Make My Own Turn Lane George was not done with adventures for the day. The exit ramp had only one left hand turn lane and no traffic light and George decided we were going to sit too long. So under the guise of taking us right with a uweee to go left, he leads us to the RH turn lane and like good sheople, most of us follow. But when the traffic opens, we turn left anyway much to the consternation of the lady waiting to turn left in the legitimate lane. Thank goodness her window was rolled up because I think she may have taught me some new words. Dinner that night was at a joint called N’awlins. Except right up front we were told there were no gumbo, no ettoufette, and no oysters. Excuse me, but what was the name again? And nothing chicken was available. It took one of us longer than norm to grasp that no chicken also means no chicken strips, no chicken tenders, no chicken wings… you get the picture. But alas Tina found something to eat that wasn’t chicken although many decided the alligator tasted like chicken but was alligator priced. While they did not have anything chicken, they did have margarita pitchers with a price that tickled Moody and Michael and they partook of the pitchers. Friday starts out heading to Deal’s Gap and the Dragon after meeting up with Terry Cooper in his Miata.Seems his bike was having issues as well; those darn bike gremlins. I like Terry, according to him there is nothing mentally disturbing about a biker carrying a sippy cup, David. This was my third & fourth trip through those 11 miles in 5 weeks and I still don’t understand the allure of it. One day. Maybe. All 4 trips were uneventful, no “oh sh poop!” moments so I must be a dragon slayer, right? Yeah, right! With my driving Miss Daisy pace, I’m pretty sure I just tickled the crap outa her. I am convinced that the Dragon is actually related to one of the Oz Witches, no not Glenda, and she just is wringing her hands, thinking “c’mon my pretty, one screw up is all I need to get you.” Not this time, it’s just a road. Sad moment of the day is saying good-bye to John and Bob at this time and leaving them at Deal’s Gap resort following prerequisite pics. They were sticking around the area to enjoy the great roads around there. We’re off to other roads and adventures. Lunch was a little Italian joint attached to a gas station. I’ll be honest, it did cross my mind that this had fast food indigestion written all over it. I was wrong. The food was really good and that was probably one of the most perfectly baked strombolies I have had. George claimed his Osso Buco was to die for. We all got checked into our hotel fairly early, unloaded and then went to try to charm a snake and take a run through Shady Valley. At the end of one of those beautiful rides on Hwy 133 was a stop at Backbone Tunnel, World’s shortest Tunnel; very cool indeed. This trip included a stop at the Country Store and a few souvenirs of the Snake were purchased. But someone had to be a buzzkill and point out that technically we didn’t actually ride the Snake which is Hwy 421. But we did cross 421 while on 133 so Sam and I ruled it and called it good and headed back to hotel and dinner. Just finishing up dinner, Sam’s sister Linda showed up as a surprise with a surprise. An invitation for a sunset cruise around Watauga Lake on her and Michael’s boat. The next surprise for Sam was that her parents Mr. John and Miss Ruth were going to join us. This is the reunion part of the Reunion Tour. And this is where we get to play the Sandie version of how many pollo... Sandies can we get in a van. Let’s see front seat is Linda (driver), Miss Ruth; second seat is Mr. John, Tina and Dave, back seat is George, Sam, and Jerry. Folded up in the tiny little cargo area like yesterdays dirty laundry is Wanda and yours truly. Michael takes one look at the van, decides he didn’t want to get that cozy with his fellow Sandies and passes on being folded up somehow. That Michael is a smart man. After we get to moving is when Wanda decides to share with everyone that she is trying really hard not to toot (pass gas for those not raised in the Kaby household). Whew, now I can blame Wanda rather than the dog since there was no dog available. Cool thing about the van ride was we actually passed a Drive-In Theatre which was still in existence and showing a movie that night. Back row at the drive-in: now THAT’s some stories for another publication. Sunset cruise was relaxing; Mike and Linda were wonderful hosts and Sam, daddy’s girl, got to spend some time with her family. That’s what it’s all about. The Mitchell wasn’t with us because he too took some time to spend with his family. Saturday included a quick stop at Bristol Motor Speedway for a banner pic moment. That was thrilling to see for this NASCAR fan; I could almost hear the excitement of the crowd and roar of the cars. Almost. One day. Then on to the super slab heading toward Virginia. We may have had to travel the Interstate system but still saw some beautiful country. Overall, I think Virginia has to be one of the most beautiful states to be seen from the roadway. A last minute addition to our trip, I think someone may have Burt ruled it, was a visit to the National D-Day Memorial in Bedford, VA. May be one of the highlights of the trip. This memorial is beautifully done and is a wonderful and moving tribute to that day 65 years ago 6 June. The bronze and water sculptures that capture that day on the beach will absolutely take your breath away. If it does not, you weren’t breathing to begin with. While in the Bedford area, even with my limited historical knowledge of the Sandollar M/C, I think there may have been a first. Two u-turns – in the exact same place, same day. Add a few red lights that weren’t quite legally navigated and it has the Sandie Ride stamp on it. The afternoon includes a stop at Appomattox and what a treat that was. Listening to Tibbs, the Confederate Soldier talk about his battles and his side of the events, you could almost believe you were there. The only thing that would have made that complete was being able to listen to the accounts of the Union soldier but time did not allow and we were soon off again. Destination: hotel; via some crooked roads of course – one that included a marvelous old wood bridge. Now this hotel is where the stories will differ. To accurately date the hotel, imagine this: we were given room keys. Real keys, not key cards. First room (yes, first – as in more than one) Wanda and I check in to has an AC problem in that it doesn’t cool. While waiting to give it time to start percolating correctly, Wanda picks up the remote to turn on the TV, it doesn’t work. After a short time elapses we decide the AC is not going to decide to work and she picks up the phone to call front desk, no dial tone. We decide not to look behind the bathroom shower curtain and I am quickly on the cell phone to the front desk: new room please. I will have to give them credit for expedient customer service, within 10 minutes of that phone call; we had everything moved into another room that had everything in working order. I can’t quite fathom why George is so excited about this very retro, but clean, hotel/motel; it must be an age thang. Next morning starts out early with our first real breakfast as we congregated at the Waffle House and then onto another Burt Ruled stop. Monticello, home of Thomas Jefferson. This was another cool trip back in time. The multi-media interactive center is very impressive and much more time than we had could be spent in that one room alone. The trip is full of great memories but one of the priceless ones that I regretted as not being timelessly captured is the look on Sam’s face when the alarm went off when she moved away from an exhibit. Those blue eyes were as big around as our breakfast plates had been. But this trip does not include any tales of being asked to leave an exhibit. After George herded us around the parking lot, we were on the road again. Next destination: train station. At the train station we met up with Jerry. He had left us early Saturday morning to drive on to outside the DC area to visit with an old friend whom he had served with. This friend owns sailplanes (gliders) and we all knew that Jerry was excited about seeing his friend and the planes. This is after all, the Reunion Tour. Watching the bikes being loaded was cool to watch. Those guys were pretty careful about it. Then again, wouldn’t you be if you knew that a group of bikers were watching your every move with their babies? We were probably more watchful than a momma with a newborn. Then our turn. All Aboard! The train trip was a fun trip; I had never been on a train ride and was excited about experiencing it on such a trip. The laughs and games among friends were timeless. The best part is that we did not write the Sandie version of Throw Momma from the Train. The same number of Sandies that got on, got off…the train, people, the train. This is where my part of the group ride ends. I am a worker bee slave to Corporate Hierarchy and the hierarchs called me home a day early. I was not able to enjoy Johnny and Becky’s hospitality much to my regret. So there you have it: the Sandie version of Planes, Trains, & Automobiles. Of course we had to be different and included Bikes and Boats as well. My first trip as a Sandie and I pick a 5 day trip with these people, what the heck was I thinkin’? I’m thinking that I must one smart, or very lucky PK.