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.

Hi, For the last 4 weeks, I've been in south central Colorado (where the temps are in the 50's at night), building with Habitat for Humanity. The physical work is good for me, the goal is worthy, and I've met many kind people. I've attached the story of why I'm suddenly in the market for a new motorcycle. July 11, 2009 Laura: "Da Judge" They shot my horse out from under me – and why I’ll never again ride in just blue jeans I parked my RV at Vallecito Lake north Bayfield, Co. (on Hwy 160 between Pagosa Springs and Durango in south central Colorado) and worked three weeks on a build with Habitat for Humanity. The day before we were to leave, I rode my FJR and Steve rode the Yamaha XT 250, heading south to the Aztec Ruins National Monument in New Mexico. It was hot, so I took off my mesh riding pants and headed home in blue jeans (mistake #1). Around 7 pm (mistake #2), we were riding north on Hwy 501 – a rural road that gains about 2,000 feet in altitude as it heads towards Vallecito Lake and our RV Park. It was the 4th of July, and the traffic was heavy with folks going to see the fireworks over the lake. As I rounded a curve, a VERY large deer bounded down the embankment to my left in front of an on-coming pickup. I hit the brakes; the deer did a shuffle step, and then hit me. It was over so fast I don’t really know what happened. Apparently the deer got tangled in the front end of the bike, we fell, and he kicked free. The only direct “deer damage” is where he kicked above the front fender and below the headlights, making toast of a lot of expensive plastic. The bike fell, skidded on the left side, grinding the frame slider to a nub and all but erasing the saddlebag. After the left side was transformed into scoured plastic, the bike flipped over and ground down the right saddlebag and other miscellaneous plastic and metallic parts. And the deer? I don’t know. I was busy sliding down the highway. Steve stopped in the middle of the highway to keep the traffic off my downed butt ‘til I crawled to the edge of the road. He said the deer was caught in the bike, kicked free, stood up, fell down, and then skittered down the steep embankment to the right. After a brief assessment, I decided I could ride the FJR the 5+ miles back to my RV. Most of that ride was over gravel, and as I rode with my left leg as stiff as Chester’s, I swore I’d never ride again with just blue jeans. Progressive Insurance totaled my old friend – too much expensive scoured plastic and probable damage to the forks. So, the Gypsy Rocket, bruised and battered, was unceremoniously hauled off for salvage. I feel like my favorite horse was shot out from under me – one with whom I’ve shared many an adventure, one who taught me many lessons of freedom, self-confidence, reaching, risking. I’d rather have skipped this entire learning opportunity, but the Gypsy Rocket is gone and the ample check from the insurance company is in my pocket. Unlike the FJR, I didn’t get totaled. I have some nasty road rash on my left knee – thus the belated New Year’s Resolution to Never ride again in only blue jeans. If you’ve never experience road rash – it burns, and burns, and burns. A week later, it’s still burning. It’s much hotter than those riding pants could ever be. (Plus it oozes, sticks to the sheets, and hurts – the riding pants do none of that.) There’s more road rash on my left shoulder – I don’t know if the pad in my Joe Rocket jacket turned on impact, or if the impact itself caused the injury. I’m sporting miscellaneous bruises and a knot on my wrist from my bangle bracelets. So – I’m one lucky rider, now without a horse. From Bayfield, we moved over to Pagosa Springs, Co. for another two-week build with Habitat. On the 19th, I’ll head up toward Denver to test ride the BMW F650 GS. I’m also looking at the Suzuki Vstrom 650 and the Kawasaki KLR 650. I’m vertically challenged, and many of these bikes require a stepladder. But I’ll probably buy something that is more comfortable with dirt and gravel than my FJR was. Lessons – (1) when you ride your bike “where the deer and the antelope play”, don’t ride during their play time (at dusk or dawn) (2) don’t wear only blue jeans, no matter how hot it gets (3) bangle bracelets gouge and leave bone bruises; (4) given the chance, get right back on your favorite horse.

On April 12th, 2009 the Sandollar Motorcycle club attended the Military SportBike RiderCourse "The Super ERC" at Navy Pensacola. The following are some of their thoughts, comments and photos: Personally, I really enjoyed the class today, Mike's teaching approach was great, I was dog-tired and he kept it entertaining. I don't know much about the class, how it came to be, or why it's called "The military sportbike class" Although he did say its name will be changed and will be offered all around, I don't know why it hasn't been offered before. From what I saw today, with the difference in people, their skill levels, and the various types of motorcycles present, I don't know why this class hasn't been offered to the public before (unless it has?) I caught myself applying some of the techniques taught today while riding home, and honestly felt good about them, and felt it made me a little bit better of a rider. I hope we can get to do some more of these in skills (now if I can just make it to more skills). To put it one way, now that I've been through it, but if I hadn't and were just some regular Joe on the street, if I would happen to find out about this class, I definitely would pay whatever the cost to take the class. Mike and Wanda are both great instructors, and I am grateful of them for taking the time to give us this class. I hope that I didn't ramble on too much, but if you could, pass on the thanks to Michael and Wanda, I personally learned a lot today. Mike B Mike B --- George please tell Michael that I thought the course was well organized. That the course really challenged your motorcycle skills. I really had a good time and wish the rain hadn't shortened our time there. Not much more to say. Except this was not a course for beginners. Robert W Robert W --- I really appreciate and enjoyed this class that Michael and Wanda put together for us. The instruction that we received was outstanding, I thought the way it started with the “be honest about your riding” (form 2 and the Zuckerman inventory) was a great way to set the tone for the class for the rest of the day. The classroom instruction was good, it showed what you were going to learn before you got out on the pavement. The course exercises were fun and challenging. To paraphrase Michael “you know how to ride, we’re going to get you to challenge yourself to be a better rider through these skills” and that’s exactly what all of us did. Excellent course, I think it should also be open to cruisers, not just sportbikes. Fred ( Wheet ) Fred --- Mike, Wanda and George First, let me say thank you for letting me participate – Thanks! 12 people are hard to manage on a course, I cannot even think about trying to manage 19 bikes. Mike and Wanda made the classroom and riding on the range look like it was easy. Very smooth transitions between four groups of riders – I am truly amazed how you two managed that many bikes. Mike did an outstanding job of managing so many people in the classroom and keeping us focused on the task (of learning). Not only keeping us focused, but also explaining the braking, riding on the curves, and advance skill riding, “COW”. At first I was thinking, this is really going to be hard for me, as a MSF instructor, I have been telling everyone to Slow, Look, Press and Roll; and now I am being told, “there is a better way”, trail braking and COW. The card trick was also great, a picture is worth a thousand words – you made your point in less than five minutes. Because Mike took the time starting with introductions and then moving smoothly into cornering, braking, COW, and trail braking; it all came together on the range – the way it is suppose to. Taking the time to fully explain all of the above was the key step for our understanding. At the range, Mike’s and Wanda’s demo rides showed us the correct technique, which obviously helped in us practicing the correct way for braking, cornering, COW and trail braking. It is obvious to me, having “mentored” sport bike riders and seeing three bikes going down in one year, the cause were: too fast of an entry speed and the lack of experience. I have also experience that car making the left hand turn in front of me and I definitely know the importance of MAX braking and/or the option to swerve. I was happy with the current braking part of this course – I think MSF nailed it with this course. This is the first time I have truly had the opportunity to perform max braking with this HD in a safe environment. Mike’s constant coaching was terrific and kept reinforcing me to improve my MAX braking with the front brake. Also the comment on just setting your foot on that back brake; I believe this is also important especially with Harley’s, with that big old pedal and leverage arm, my foot was being forced down harder during stops (i.e., me pressing down and my body weight pressing down at the same time); I now understand a little why and how to mitigate some of that unwanted rear braking. Using the COW and trail braking was new, but the pictures and descriptions in class and then actually getting in the curves, I could feel I was leaning less but still making an aggressive move, I liked it. I really enjoyed this class and I know, it has helped me in being a better Rider. Mike and Wanda (you too George) THANKS!!!!!!!!!!!! Joe T Editor's note: COW stands for the Chin Over Wrist technique taught in the class. Joe T --- GREAT WAY TO SPEND THE DAY! Getting to spend a day learning new techniques, relearning older ones and getting rid of old habits is hard to beat. When you have the quality of instruction we did for the sport bike class, it makes it even better! The classroom full of friends and fellow riders was very interesting. At times there were puzzled looks on everyone’s face as new techniques were shown and then explained. Sometimes the visual aid is necessary for us lowly peons to understand what is being talked about. The class with video and slides went a long ways toward showing us the basic technique for some maneuvers. The "quick slide show" with quiz, demonstrated how things could flash past us if we don’t constantly update ourselves and scan effectively. All questions were answered satisfactorily in the classroom. Anyone that had a question was given the time from the instructor to fully answer it. Out on the range, maneuvers were explained, demonstrated and then performed by all students. Some were more difficult at first but the higher speed of the course compared to past courses helped demonstrate how we can handle the techniques we covered in class. I do not think anyone came away without learning something. Including the instructors. At the end of the day we all were somewhat sore from manhandling our cruisers around a sportbike course, but we all left with a smile on our faces. Spending the day like that is unbeatable. Well, not totally unbeatable, there is at least one thing that could top that. However, I won’t go into that. (Get your mind out of the gutter! I'm talking about fishing!) SpectreSteve Spectre Steve --- On 12 April 2009, I attended the MSF Military Sport Bike Rider Course at Corry Station, Pensacola, FL. This all day course proved to be the most comprehensive, helpful course that I have ever taken. This includes both BRC and ERC MSF programs. The academic instructor Michael McMillan’s presentation was concise, detailed and all encompassing. His unique demonstrations kept the full attention of the entire class for the whole time. The riding phase conducted by Michael and the other rider coach, Wanda Brocade, was also outstanding in every aspect. Their sharing of responsibility with one briefing and the other demonstrating the maneuvers desired, left no question in anybody’s mind of what was required. On a scale of 1 to 10, this entire program rates a 10+. Jerry G Jerry G --- Sand Dollars Lead the Way I wasn’t sure if Mary Ann and I would make it out to Pensacola for the Military Sports Bike course. Woke up Sunday morning with a pounding headache. Decided that I could tough it out, so we headed out to meet everyone at Joe’s. On the way out to the base, I kept telling myself that I could do this. When we got to the base and met up with Michael, I was still feeling rough. Michael is a fantastic teacher. He made the classroom portion of the class very interesting. Once the classroom instruction was over, we headed out to grab some lunch. After lunch, we headed to the range for the fun part. Learned some great techniques from Michael and Honda Wanda. Once again, they did a fantastic job. I tip my hat for a job well done. At least the rain held off and we had a great time. BH (Cris B) Mary Ann & Chris B --- Sunday April 12, Super ERC motorcycle class was fabulous! Although we have our own Skills Sunday once a month, it never hurts to have professional training updates. This Sunday I found especially useful the COW maneuver during turns and placing the foot on the rear brake and letting weight transfer during braking apply the rear brake without lock up amazing. No more rear brake lock up! Thanks M2 for the professional classroom, great teaching, I actually learned new things, see above. Amazed Munchkin (David B) David B --- Sport Bike Class-----My Thoughts Since I’m not overly confident in my ability to ride my current bike well enough for this class, I asked M2 if he thought I could handle the class before starting. I’m really glad he said yes and I believed him. The classroom was a real eye opener and I think the way it was presented really made you think about your surroundings and what you think and how to react. I really got into the C.O.W. I did not think I could make really tight corners but I kept taking out the cones on the inside. After the class, I think I might be ready for the dreaded BOX, my all time nemesis. Thanks to M2 and Wanda, I’m like the little train that said “I think I can, I think I can and now I know I can. Thanks to both M2 and Honda Wanda. You’re the best. Sam SAM --- The course.....big enough to feel safe to do maneuvers. I really enjoyed doing them! Thorough explanations on all the maneuvers from the teachers. No question was too big or too small to give an answer to an individual. Made anyone feel at ease Also..the little helpful hints really made a difference.... from the way to hold your hand on the throttle and still cover the brake to using the Chin Over Wrist. Skwirrel Skwirrel --- Had a great time attending this course! This class should be the complete replacement for the Experienced Riders Course(ERC). I believe the ERC never should have been called "Experienced" anything because it is still too basic for any rider that has any real experience riding a motorcycle. With the increased speeds and the improved breaking and swerving exercises/techniques in the new course, it is now actually tailored for a more "Experienced" rider. I've been hoping that the MSF would come up with a class of this type for years. Joejoe (29 years of daily riding experience) Joejoe --- Joe I am humbled that an experienced and knowledgeable motorcycle instructor such as your self thinks we did a good job. That's a strong compliment and I appreciate it. Wanda and I have worked together for years and I love working with her. I've learned some neat things from the Honda woman. She's a dear friend and a wonderful coach who helps me be a better coach myself. I agree with you completely that the MSF got it right with this one, especially the braking, turning and swerving. I look forward to getting it out to the general population and hopefully saving some lives there like it's doing for the military. Did you know that George scraped a peg? A Gold Wing will lean 40 degrees and George was scraping! I think that's a result of a well thought out and constructed curriculum. (Well, that and George was a Wildman out there. Reg Pridmore won't recognize him ;>) It was a real pleasure to teach a class where every single rider was above average. That made the 'job' much easier for Wanda & me. M2 Editor's note: M2 was the lead instructor this day M2 --- You definitely summed it all up for me too M2 :) George was wild wasn't he ...lol...lol......he was so enjoying himself ! I still can't git Squirrel's "Cow" girl moves outa my head Honda Wanda Editor's note: Honda Wanda was one of the instructors this day

31 Oct – 2 Nov, 2008 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 Da Skwirrel Low Roads It I now know why folks come back with a glow of happiness on their faces when they return from the infamous Low Road trip. Absolutely wonderful folks hosting the herd of cats known as the Sandies. The warm welcome and homey feeling is second nature to them since they themselves are the Leweezeeanna Sandies...Doc Pat and Brenda and their brood of Sandilings. The weather a bit nippy but clear.(Cold is not an excuse for not riding.)And what better an excuse to ride than to travel from Fl to LA The house is set in the woodsy land with comfortable privacy.The main house..oh my gawd ..is so beautiful. Made of hewn logs that fits right in with the nature that surrounds it.To the right is the newly built accommodations that these fine folks had constructed for multiple guests.Of course I must mention that bodacious staircase inside the main house..made of the split logs for steps and logs for the railing. And then they fed us! Oh my gawd the food!!!! So much..so good!!!! The atmosphere is so relaxing it was as if I was a part of the family. . Next day we all take a nice ride exploring the roads of LA. We all eat breakfast (finally had a beignet).Then as we are at a Village full of shops (oh yeah baybee), Chris and Maryann discover they have a flat tire.Our hosts acquire a means for their bike to be trailered to a bike shop. Guardian angels were looking after them...considering the flat could have happened while riding on the roads and plus the good fortune of having bike shop opened. While waiting on the repair, we have lunch at a Mediterranean like restaurant.Was fun and very informative as we discover how much Brenda really likes chicken. Later the rest of the Sandies meet us at the shop and we continue riding .Got to ride the longest bridge..Ponchatrain that was so cool!!!!! Never realized just how big the lake is. Gonna go see the 9th ward in Nawlins. The road down there was full of holes and lumps. One hole so deep that Dave and Tina, riding infront of Chris and Maryann, just about disappeared in one of the holes. Bam! goes their bike with such force that their cooler pops open and a beer bottle smashes on the ground. Our driving skills lets us all avoid hitting the broken glass. However.... Poor Chris got his cheek dinged with a small flying shard. Well I still consider him having a lucky day..considering it could have hit his eye etc. All in all I had a wonderful time meeting great folks and enjoying company of old and new friends. This is a trip definitely not to be missed. I will be back. Da Skwirrel Last month some Sandies headed off to La. (no, not Lower Alabama) to DocPats to help build some cabins. The whole bunch of us together hadn’t swung a hammer in anger in years. Well, all but one of us. Robbie seemed to know which nail to hit and when. But the rest of us just had fun using the nail gun. Up until one bounced off the wood in front of me and poked a hole in my T-Shirt. No blood drawn so it was all good. At the end of that trip there were comments on how well put together the fine homesteads were. This last trip was to prove that right. Staying in the fine homes in the air was enjoyable. Cool weather and no bugs contributed greatly to the enjoyment I’m sure. Last trip we had indoor movies. Not so this time, outdoor theater time for us! We just have to pick our movies a bit better. 30 year old movies and stinko new movies just aint gonna cut it. If this was a commercial theater there would have been popcorn thrown at the screen. But I digress. The movie atmosphere was very nice with a fire, roasting marshmallows and the smell of the occasional burning marshmallow filling the air. As the evening wore on, we chatted and talked about the coming day. Finally we hit the sack and were very thankful our gracious hosts provided warm covers and a heater for each cabin. Well, two out of three cabins anyway. The center cabin, the Bachelor Pad, didn’t have heat the first night. There was rampant speculation on how the guys in that cabin stayed warm. Draw your own conclusion on this one. I aint saying nuttin! Riding around the back roads of LA was fun and entertaining. I was riding super six and Skwirrel was directly ahead of me. As the day went on Skwirrel was carving the curves pretty good. I had to scrape pegs to keep up with her Magna several times. She has certainly come a ways from when she entered the Sandies. They grow up so fast nowadays you know. Everyone was really enjoying the ride when we stopped for breakfast. Cris and Mary Ann B found a flat tire on their bike. Sure glad DocPat had a trailer handy. Skwirrel and I stayed with them as they headed to the dealer to get it fixed. Several hours later, after a repast at some furrin eatin stablishment, (editors note: A Lebanese Restaurant ) we were back on the road. A short trip to the cabins, via very nice roads didn’t take long. No sooner were we all fed, (mighty fine food too! Thanks Brenda!) And put to bed, it was time to head for the house. The next day we headed out and traveled across Lake Ponchartrain via the causeway. That is one very long bridge. I hadn’t been on it since the 70’s. Coming through New Orleans, we encountered plenty of nasty traffic. Several close calls convinced me to never take a group through there again. But the route along the coast was entertaining. Damage from the recent hurricanes was evident still as the 9th ward passed by us. Some new bridges have been built and new pavement laid. But still the sheer amount of damage was staggering. I’ve seen N.O. under water and this is an improvement but it is far from fixed. Personally if I lived under water it would be in a submarine. But that’s just me. As we headed to Biloxi, we gassed up and parted ways with some of the Sandies. Several of us headed down highway 90 and found some more damaged areas. The highway through Biloxi and the area is still under renovation. Most of the homes along the beach are still gone but some are new and some are being rebuilt. This area will survive but it will take time. Passing through Mobile and then on to Pensacola via I 10 was uneventful. The rest of the trip was just one of those “lets get home, the heck with everything else” things. Once again Skwirrel and I arrived home and the pets were still alive! The dog greeted us with licks and hugs and the birds squawked. All happy to see us! The cat ignored us and went back to sleep. SpectreSteve Flats and Glass and Curling Irons…Oh My! It all started of innocent enough. Nice cool morning, plenty of sunshine and surrounded by best folks in the world. The perfect beginning to what was going to be a fantastic weekend. Or so I thought. As we left Joe and Eddie’s, I couldn’t help to really look forward to what would be mine and Mary Ann’s longest ride to date. Headed out on 98, we only hit a little bit of traffic. We made a brief stop in Pensacola and took off again. The first thing that told me that things were set to go awry, was, we made a left, but there was a perfectly good Krispy Kreme Doughnuts on the right…and we didn’t stop. I had to hold back the tears for the next 15-20 miles. Once out of Florida and into Alabama, things were looking up again. It was a great ride and I was enjoying every moment. Mary Ann was having fun counting all of the McCain/Palin signs. I guess I should mention the one Obama sign (think someone left it in that person’s yard as a joke). We were on some really nice roads with beautiful scenery. We finally stopped to eat at the Rocky Creek Catfish Cottage. I love seafood, but not a fan of catfish. So I just left that to other folks to eat. Overall, it was a great lunch and a nice break from the bike seat. It was getting warmer, so removed a layer of clothing for the rest of the ride. Once again, we were on some nice roads. Only one slight delay for some road construction, which came up at the worst time. Someone had to use the bathroom. ME! I was really considering running off into the woods. But we finally got going again, just had to ride past where they were laying fresh asphalt. We got through that and stopped a little further down the road. Once I took care of business and gassed up the bike, I noticed George showing off his athleticism. Doing a handstand over a trashcan. Bravo, received a perfect 10 from the judges. It was then I realized that he had enjoyed his lunch so much; he wanted the other store patrons to see what he had. Hmmm Hmmm, catfish puree`. Actually I felt bad, he looked really green around the gills. Once our fearless leader was feeling better, we were back on the road with Steve in the lead. Getting closer to Pat and Brenda’s, felt this stiff breeze and out of the corner of my eye, George is doing a flyby. It came as a bit of a scare because it was the world’s quietest flyby ever. We got to our destination and had a very warm welcome from Pat and Brenda. They are two of the nicest people you would ever want to meet. Special thanks to them for their fantastic hospitality. We got the cabins set up and beds put together. And then proceeded to watch one of the corniest movies ever…thanks JoeJoe. The next morning we set out for breakfast. Got to ride some more great roads and see some great sights. We stopped for breakfast and I made the mistake that I was about to pay for in a big way. The poor waitress slipped (fortunately she didn’t hit the ground), and what do I do, I laugh. Needless to say, I waited for my breakfast. As everyone was done and walking out, I was still waiting. Then Pat comes in and tells me that I have a flat tire. Word to the wise, never laugh at a waitress when she slips. Being in Louisiana, she must have had a Voodoo Princess in her family and put a hex on me. While everyone else got to go on a nice ride, Pat, Brenda, Steve and Sharon stayed with Mary Ann and I. I think Sharon just stayed to do some shopping. We finally got the bike towed to the shop, but would have to wait awhile to get it fixed. We ended up at a Lebanese restaurant (Which I got there by way of a nice Corvette). By now, I’m sure that everyone knows that Brenda likes chicken. The food was good, and Pat ended up with a good ol’ American hamburger off the kid’s menu. We got back and they said my bike would be ready in about 45 minutes. They gave us a tiny piece of metal about ¼” long and the width of a bread tie (I thought for sure it was caused by a hot curling iron). Just my luck, a darn bread tie does me in. Everyone showed up at the shop as they finished the bike. We got back to Pat and Brenda’s and showered and relaxed for a bit. Again we ate like kings. Pat makes an excellent Frozen Screwdriver. After everyone was done eating, we kicked back around a couple of fire pits and watched the new Indiana Jones movie. Just a great evening. Sunday morning, we get up and head out to breakfast. Nice little place to eat, it was an old drive in. And once again, my luck continued…last one served and I had the runniest fried eggs ever. After breakfast, we thanked Pat and Brenda again and hit the road. It was a nice ride down to the Causeway into New Orleans. Mary Ann likened riding across the Causeway to riding a horse, and I would have to agree. Once into New Orleans, we were coming up on the exit for I-10. I thought we were going to go right by the exit, but in the smallest of openings, we turn right across another lane of traffic and onto the ramp. I never knew Mary Ann didn’t like Mack trucks sharing her seat with her. But we made it. What could go wrong now? As we were riding through the Ninth Ward, Dave and Tina hit a bump and the lid of their cooler flies open. Now Dave knows that I don’t drink and drive, so I’m pretty sure he was just trying to pass me a beer for later. But the damn thing flies up in the air and hits the ground, so all I get is a little wet and a piece of glass hitting me in the face. Now I know what else could go wrong. By the way, thanks to everyone for making sure that I was ok. Once we get back on the road, we rode through Gulf Port, nice ride along the Gulf. We split up in Biloxi. Some folks stayed on the interstate and some of us jumped on 90. It was an enjoyable ride home, ‘cept it got a little cold as the sun set. With everything that happened, it was still a great weekend and I look forward to doing it again. I just hope for a little better luck. Cris Low Road Tour First, I’d like to dedicate this ride to a good friend, MSgt Mike Tindall, USAF retired. Mike passed away from cancer in Feb 08. He was a skilled motorcyclist who loved the outdoors – miss you Mike! George, being the gracious road captain he was decided to push the start time back from 0600hrs to 0700hrs because of the forecasted cool weather (especially for those of us who don’t ride loungers with heated grips/seats) – good call indeed. We meet-up and ride out promptly heading west on 98 towards Louisiana. The weather was absolutely perfect – a little cool but almost no wind and not a cloud in the sky – it couldn’t be a better weekend to ride. We press on around Mobile and head into beautiful two lanes with almost no traffic, some curves, some hills, when it hits me that I need to take a pit stop…soon (could be all the water/juice I drank on an empty stomach). I keep thinking that George will stop and I wasn’t close enough to motion the need…I was almost to the point that a tree was looking real good, when we rode up to a gas station that I wasn’t sure was even open. A quick signal left, while pointing with my left arm, hoping that Chris & MaryAnn behind me wouldn’t ride up my tailpipe, I whip in and make the dash. With some dignity left intact, Steve, Chris & MaryAnn (thanks for stopping to make sure all was well) and myself play catch-up to the rest of the group. In Ms, we stop for lunch at an all-u-can-eat catfish house…some of the cutest waitresses I’ve ever seen, anyway, some give me grief because I order a grilled chicken salad. Regardless of what some may think, I too love to eat but I do need to maintain the ability to fit into my uniform, at least for another 5 months or so. We press on and almost arriving at our destination, we’re stopped by road construction – all take the opportunity to stretch our legs and talk about the ride so far. As we’re finally cleared to proceed, we pass through a toxic cloud of asphalt and tar from the road crew. I guess that smell, combined with the catfish our leader had for lunch nearly did him in. Poor George was hurling in a gas station…we were worried about you George, but like the boss he is, recovered and we arrived at Docs and Ms Brenda’s. As before, they are both absolute perfect hosts and did I mention their beautiful log cabin home? Very nice. That night, The Comb and I shared a cabin and I later learned we were the only cabin without a heater…it got COLD! No, not cold enough for that but damn cold. Needless to say, the next night, I found us a heater. Saturday’s ride was perfect as well – rode through scenic, curvy Louisiana back roads, passed historic mansions along the river front and back to Docs. Chris somehow rolled over a twisty tie and got a flat on his rear tire (that still amazes me!) so they missed the Sat ride, but were good sports about it. We settle in for the evening with an outdoor, fireside movie – a perfect way to end the day. Next morning, Sunday, we head home via the Causeway over Ponchatrain – was my first time ever crossing the world’s longest bridge on a moto – nice! Hit I-10 in New Orleans and somehow avoid being run over before we can exit on 90 and press through hurricane ravaged real estate. I leave the group in Gulfport and take 90 on to Mobile, where I pick-up I-10 and ride it to Pensacola, then 98 again on home. Lessons learned: The more I ride with this group, the more I respect them. Beer and a busted bottle does not ruin your ride, just ask Chris. Scenic roads beat super slab any day of the week. Doc Pat and Ms Brenda are the perfect hosts. For our road captain, whatever we pay you isn’t enough because the route was absolutely perfect. Great ride…if I’m still in the area next year, I’ll be on it again. Deuce The trip was great. Who cares if it took 10 hours to make a 5 hour drive. We started out at 7 a.m. I was so worried I was going to freeze my Butt off even with all the layers of clothes I had on. Instead I was just fine. There was so much to see. There were many McCain signs I counted along the way. Not too many Obama, But yet he won. I just loved looking and watching. It is amazing how much more you can take in riding on the back of a bike that you would of not seen, smelt or felt in a car. We stopped and had lunch at a Catfish house. I myself had a hamburger. I’m not sure if it was the catfish George ate or the smells in the air, but he was sicker then a dog. He was sick enough to not finish leading. When we got to Pat and Brenda's, I was in love with their house. Who could not love their house. I do have to say I thought it would be odd at first staying at someone’s house that you have never met. Pat and Brenda made us feel right at home. The next morning we where going to go out and have a good LA breakfast with Beignet’s and Café-au-lait, they where yummy. For some reason Cris was last to get his meal. I wonder if it had anything to do with him laughing at the server that slipped. The group had this great ride all planned out. I couldn’t wait. Well I thought I couldn’t wait, but the flat on our bike told us we where going to miss it. Pat had a friend’s daughter come pick up the bike. She was a sweet girl. Steve, Sharon, Pat and Brenda were so nice to stay with us while we got it fixed. I wanted to make sure we didn’t miss out on a lunch so I asked what there was to eat, while the bike got fixed. We ended up at a Lebanese place to eat. We found out there JUST HOW MUCH BRENDA loves chicken. By the time the bike was fixed the whole group was done with their ride and met us back at the shop. Even though we missed the main ride for Saturday. The trip home was great. I loved seeing the houses one the water. It was just like watching “The Waterboy” movie. Sunday we were going to leave out at 8, but then SOMEONE got a hair up their butt and decided to leave 30 mins early. Oh well I was ready. We stopped for Breakfast, and Yep Cris was last to get his food again. This time the eggs more then just runny. YUCK. The ride home took us over the causeway which ran over Lake Ponchatrain. It was kind of felt like riding a horse..The faster you went the more you bounced. We made it to New Orleans. That was another adventure, but we made it . Back on the road..I thought things where going to run smooth again, when all of a sudden Dave and Tina start to throw beer bottles at us. HAHA ok they didn’t throw them at us. They just hit a bump in the road, which made their cooler pop open and out bounced a beer bottle, water bottle and ice. See we used are skills and didn’t over react and just got through it. Even with a piece of glass popping up and hitting Cris in the face. I had not known it till over a week later that when we stopped to make sure everything was ok, we where in the 9th Ward. That is when Sharon was trying to get gas and it would not work so she was fussing at the pump. We rode for a while longer, while different people at different times went in different directions. All in all it was a wonderful ride. So if asked if I would do it all over the same way, I would say Yes. You can’t beat great people, great food (well besides Cris’ runny eggs and Georges catfish) And mostly a great ride. I guess I will just have to go back next year and do the ride I missed out on. PS…My curling iron didn’t have anything to do with the flat. Mary Ann It had been a couple of years since I last made the low road tour. Probably took me that long to recover from the last, or I had to wait for the statute of limitations to expire in Louisiana before returning. I'm not sure which. In typical Sandollar, style the trip over was great despite the chilly temperatures on departure. George had a nice route laid out keeping us off the super-slabs as much as possible. Despite his great road captaining, I was ready to stage a coupe when he passed a Krispy Kreme Donut shop with the "Hot Now" sign blazing. Some things just aren't right and missing that artery clogging delicacy is one of those. Luckily he recovered some credibility with a stop for lunch at a great catfish restaurant. The food was great. Some of us felt a little out of place. I estimate the average age of the lunch crowd at somewhere North of 75. We arrived and you would have thought it was opening shopping day on black Friday. People were racing to stake claim on the newly completed sleeping quarters on stilts. I took one look and decided that I would hate to try and crawl up or down those steps in the middle of the night. Anyway, I had brought other arrangements. So while the screaming herds were staking claim to a chunk of floor somewhere and making sure there was electricity to plug in their various night time gadgets, I was pitching my tent. Within 10 minutes I had the tent up, air mattress inflated, bag unrolled and gear stowed. Everyone took bets as to how many times Scooter would pee on my tent. He was a perfect host choosing to leave my tent alone in favor of marking the front wheel of Jerry's BMW. Brenda and Pat are the finest folks and hosts on the planet. I think their attitudes are exemplified by the sign hanging in Brenda's kitchen, "Friends are Everything". If you have great friends like Pat and Brenda you have a great life. As always the food was to die for. I keep dropping hints that I'm available for adoption. Even Munchkin out did himself with his upside down creations. Most of us were ready for an early crash on Friday evening. JoeJoe brought out the A-list films that none of us would ever admit to watching at home. Friday's award winning feature - Hot Rod. Staring nobody anyone had ever heard of before or after it's release. I can safely say this was the worst movie I have ever seen, and I've seen some bad one's. It was so bad it probably qualifies for cult status. Another round of beer please. After the feature film, I retired to the tent and became part of Wild Kingdom. I kept expecting to see Marlin Perkins. I'm a city boy, what the hell do I know about the country. There are all kinds of strange noises out there when the sun goes down. Overall very relaxing except for the retarded rooster that lives nearby. I thought roosters were supposed to crow at sunrise or something close. This dumb assed bird was crowing all night. As he got warmed up he initiated a chain reaction of dogs joining the night serenades. The coolest sound was the owl Saturday night. He was a hoot. So while others were struggling with the snoring of their room mates, I was enjoying natures music. Wild Kingdom indeed. I shall remember to bring a tent again for my next travel experience. Saturday morning we discovered that I stayed warmer in my tent than most stayed in the bunk house. Something about heaters in some rooms, drafts in others. Sorry, it's a one man tent. It really was very pleasant. Saturday riding was great as expected. Those roads along the bayou are awesome. The old steel bridges bring back great childhood memories. I think we met the most miserable person in Louisiana at lunch, our waitress. If she were to smile or even acknowledge a customer I think she would have dropped dead on the spot. At least the food was good. Glad she wasn't with us, we would have had to leave her somewhere, anywhere. Saturday evening the food was again great. Beer was flowing in some corners. Lies were being told and everyone was in a jovial mood. The choice of films improved with Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull. Another great relaxing evening around the fire. I don't remember when I headed for the tent, but I obviously made it because that's where I woke up. Sunday morning I had the tent and everything packed up before most were moving. Coffee to jolt the heart into action and ready for another ride. Unfortunately it had to be toward home. We took a very long scenic route that was excellent except for the near disasters near New Orleans. I think I finally got the Ford F-250 grill imprints removed from the back of my saddlebags. Last minute lane changes in bumper to bumper traffic is one experience I think I'll skip next time thank you. We finally made it home sometime in the late afternoon. Another great trip in the books. I don't remember the total mileage, somewhere over 950 I think I heard someone say. They were all great, and only 2 1/2 tanks of gas! Until next trip, ride safe. Tim aka: "Prince of Darkness" The Low Road Trip. And this year was just another fun filled ride with great friends, good roads and lot's of wonderful food. If you can only make one road trip a year make sure you make it the Low Road, I promise you will not be disappointed. Thanks Pat & Brenda for being the perfect host & hostess as always. I really enjoyed it. Sam Okay George says I have to pay the Piper yet again because I went on the ride or I don’t get to go on another Sandie ride. Well I have taken time outta my precious day off to sit down and do this so I hope this Piper guy (or gal) is happy. All I know is one day I’m going to find this Piper and we’re going to have a serious discussion on the social ramifications and the continuance of his/her good health to leave me outta this kinda stuff. Nuff said. Well since George decided to shorten the trip to three days instead of the usual four (I guess he was going to miss his favorite soaps and didn’t want to fall too far behind in the story line) I decided to leave on Thursday and the Munchkin decided to join me. We met up in Navarre and headed North. The temperature was a balmy 42 degrees and we were headed North, into the cold, so lets just say we ain’t the smartest Sandies but if we headed South we’d be wet, soooooo (and we already did the East and West thing so we didn’t want to cover ground we’ve seen a hundred times. And yes I have ridden East to go West, it’s a Sandie thing don’t ask) where was I????? Oh yeah, the time you ask 7:30 AM AFTER the Sun came up, not the BUTCRACK of dawn like before (yeah I bet you thought I wouldn’t mention that, well you were wrong. And yes I’m still bitchin about it to George (I just like to annoy him, and I do it oh so well just ask him!!)). The trip I laid out looked nice, some roads that I haven’t been on and places I’ve never seen. I showed George my route and he changed his, and I only used a 2D GPS (a.k.a. a map). No I don’t own a GPS, nor did I use Google Earth like some people (yes George I’m talking about you, and yes I always pick on George this way. Don’t worry he’ll pay me back later on down the line). The trip there was relatively uneventful. We saw a lot of woods, a house that was built like a castle using cinderblock construction, the oldest building in some Podunk town, and did the obligatory Sandie U-turn. Munchkin headed South just outside of Wiggins Ms. and I continued on to Doc Pat’s place. When I arrived everybody was still working on the cabins trying to get them ready for the migration of my fellow Sandies the next day, so I took off my jacket and pitched in. We hung the doors and worked on bed frames until we noticed that we needed more stuff, so that would have to wait until Friday when we could get to the hardware store. Okay time to eat! And then the unthinkable happened, Doc Pat and Brenda asked me to sleep in the Big House and not the servants quarters, my status had been raised from a lowly Sandie to new heights. I could sleep where Sandie presidents, vice presidents, road captains, Joe Joe, and numerous other Sandies (except me) have slept (I guess I stink or something, they won’t tell me). But I declined, I decided I liked it where I was on the food chain (I got friends down here, and I like it). Friday was filled with running around getting things ready for the arrival (yes George likes to make a grand entrance). We fixed the things that needed fixin, and then the dodo hit the oscillating rotating device (shit hit the fan). Doc Pat’s Harley wouldn’t start (wait haven’t I been here before???). Yes this has happened before, but Doc Pat just got his bike outta the shop and the work that was done was right where the problem was. Soooo, in order not to void his warrantee with the shop we loaded it on the trailer and took it back. But before we left Brenda tells Pat “why don’t you just go and buy a new Harley?” Decisions decisions, I could tell Pat was tempted, but he wasn’t given up on his bike. At least not yet. So off to the shop we went. You know it never seems to fail that when you really need something it breaks, or gives you grief. Well to make a long story a little shorter they could not fix the problem and we left empty handed. We got back in time to see the Sandie swarm over the cabins putting the things together that we were going to but got side tracked. Later I heard that Sam told everyone that if they didn’t put the bed frames and stuff together they were going to be sleeping on the floor. Ahhh, ain’t motivation a wonderful thing. One of Pat’s friends lent him their Harley so he would not have to rent one. Now that is a good friend, but I would trust Pat with my bike too, so. Brenda laid out a nice spread for dinner, so we all dug in until we could not walk. Then we just sat around telling lies and catching up with good friends. Saturday morning came early and everyone eventually got moving, drank some coffee, and made preparations to get underway to head to breakfast (for those of you that read this stuff, you noticing a theme? Something to do with food, maybe?). We stopped for gas and Pat left the gas key on his loner Harley at the house, so I waited with him and Brenda until the Brenda’s daughter brought the key. We finally got to the Cajun Village and met up with everyone. While we were eating someone noticed that Chris’s bike had a flat rear tire. Now you know your in good company when the whole group isn’t going to leave the stranded guy until we know he is taken care of, you can’t buy that kind of friendship (you may be able to rent it for a while though). Arrangements were made to get the bike to a shop that was open, and most of the group left for the ride. The day got warmer and it was a beautiful one, one that makes you glad you ride. I have been on these roads before with Pat and Brenda, and I would ride them again and again because they are some really nice roads. We ate lunch at a nice little seafood place, and then we hit the road again. We met up with Chris and his entourage at the bike shop, and they were just finishing up. Talk about good timing. From there we headed back to Pat and Brenda’s place for more food and telling lies. Sunday came, and we had to pack up for the long journey home. We geared up and headed to breakfast (there is that food thing again). We usually stop at Paul’s in Ponchatoula, but Pat lead us to a different place. The food was good and so was the service. We said our goodbyes to Pat and Brenda and headed home. Some of the group headed down the super slab, and the rest followed George. I decided to follow George across the Causeway into New Orleans. The Causeway is a nice trip, but dealing with the I-10 traffic is another story. Needless to say no one got run over but we had some close calls. Finally George exits the super slab into, well lets just say not a very nice part of the city. As we were riding down the road I felt like a piece of meat at a buffet, thinking must go faster, must go faster, and then the inevitable happens……it seems that a beer bottle that was in Dave’s cooler on the back of his Wing fell out after hitting a big bump and shattered right in front of Chris and Mary Ann. And Chris got some glass in his eye, so we had to pull over. Chris and Mary Ann were not having a very good Low Road Tour to say the least. Well Chris got the glass outta his eye and we were on the road again. Luckily there wasn’t any real damage to his eye. So we headed home down some beachfront roads to Mississippi, there we split up and some took the super slab, and some continued on down the beachfront roads. Things I learned: 1. Chris and Mary Ann had some bad luck but kept smiling, I’d ride with them anywhere. 2. If it takes you 463 miles to go 250 you must be a Sandie. 3. Sandie’s are eaters with a riding habbit. 4. 4 day trips are better than 3 day trips. 5. Pat and Brenda are still awesome hosts, thanks for everything. Animal Tina and I started at 5:22 in the evening. Hit the interstate ( high side) set the cruise at 75 on gps 80 speed odometer and 4 house later arrived at pat and brenda's house. After falling over a stump I couldn't see and after the laughter died down we went inside. Great roads, great host and near perfect weather. You have already heard about the adventures. Flat tire, glass , and a turn you could died for. I mean really died for. We were invited back for spring ride. When do we leave? Duk and Tina A good ride! The food was good The ride was good The people were good The couch was good JoeJoe

Reunion Tour 2008 page From 19 June, 2008 to 23 June 2008 the Sandollars rode from Fort Walton Beach, FL to Northeast Tennessee to attend the Martin family reunion and to ride the roads around the area. The following are the Sandollar members accounts in their own words. The Reunion Tour 2008 in Our Own Words In the Early Morning Dawn, Sandies Ride; 5:55 in the morning traveling down hwy 47. The sun slowing picking thru the clouds, as a fog hovers just over the fresh-planted corn. Cool morning, bike humming, what a great morning to ride. Smokehouse is just an hour away. About 55 minutes into the ride guess what, a phone call. My brother is at the wrong place. Yea he was late. Just back from a foreign country heading to another foreign country. That's right Alabama. I mean bless his heart, he don't know what a hen aig is. He doesn’t know what a hen aig is but it didn’t stop him from eating them. Eyes swollen, barely any sleep, but plenty of hunger. Brothers to the end, I mean I couldn't let him eat alone. Ordering another breakfast just seemed liked the right thing to do. Off we go to Tennessee. Interstate the worst way to travel unless you’re in a hurry, and we were. Alot of road to travel. Finally hit the back roads in north Alabama. Friday morning we headed to the Dragon. 318 turns in 11 miles what a ride. After some souvenirs, we hit the hellbender. Joejoe and the Mitchell headed off from the rest of the group. Not wanting to be left behind after I adjusted my camera, I took off after them. That's right I had a video camera. I passed George, Sam, and Jerry, I know George set aside so I could pass, I appreciate it and I headed for the leaders. Not long before Tina and I caught them. Joe on his Hyabusa, Mitchell on his BMW and me and Tina on the 1800. We flew right on by about 500 hundred feet did a front wheel stand and tape them coming head on. I have the tape to prove it. If the tape didn’t run out honest, that's the way it happened. I’ll send u the tape soon as I can. Until then just imagine it in your head and that's the way it happens. The next day we went to the Reunion. Most of us dressed in motorcycle gear. All but George, no George dressed in FISHING PANTS. I know they were fishing pants because a youngster said, "hey George I like those fishing pants". It was great to see all the family and talk about old times. I know I was part of the family because I voted and donated. And the fact that Janet Moody was there. Long lost double third cousin on mother's side, maybe. David Moody Editors Note: David is presently under a Doctors care for Mental Issues; please take his imaginary Journey accordingly. George does exist and is a very good rider, wearing real gear. Editor The 2008 Sandie Reunion Tour The 2008 Reunion Tour started just like most Sandie Road Tours, early ( O dark 30 o’clock) and right on time. The night was clear and cool, almost chilly for this time of year. We rapidly progressed up Hwy 85, P .J. Adams Rd, US 90, up Rte 189 through Andalusia to a new road for me, RT 107. Reaching Greenville for breakfast with an outstanding average of right near 60 mph. Dave and Tina were waiting there and Chris M. caught up with us before we departed. Someone needs to talk to that boy; he should know that a BMW never arrives late. He must have thought he was still on a V-Rod and made a few gas stops. One word about the café, they make the best “hub cap” sized biscuits you’ve ever seen, but don’t order a grilled ham & cheese sandwich. A grilled cheese runs $3.75, add the ham to it and it costs $8.50. Musta’ been a prize winning pig. Another gas stop at Gadsden then on to Chattanooga, Tenn. After a total of 427 miles for the day... We stayed at the Main Stay Suites, very nice rooms with a completely equipped kitchen. Had a super supper at the Texas Roadhouse. They gave me two delicious pork chops so big that I had to bring one home for a midnight snack and still couldn’t finish it. Almost forgot, Skwirrel and Steve G were just missed by an idiot driver who proceeded to wipe out another bike right in front of them. They stopped to help and luckily, the rider didn’t seem badly hurt. The car’s driver biggest concern was that he wouldn’t make it to a store before they closed. Left the next morning after a hotel breakfast for a bunch of “twisties”, ending at Deals Gap. It was as curvy as ever and crowded with all the GW’s from the annual Honda Hoot at Knoxville. There were quite a few State Police there also and they weren’t shy about chasing down anyone they felt were unsafe. After we stopped at the “Crossroads of Time” café on Deals Gat, we continued down Rte 28 known as the “Hellbender”. This is a great ride with wider, smoother roads with many “sweeper” type curves without all the traffic, cops, and crowds—highly recommended. Leaving there, we went through many, many small villages connected by interesting roads until reaching Maggie Valley. There we had the most confusing part of the ride with 3 or 4 people trying to decide where to eat with everyone else in the middle not on cob’s making 5 or 6 u-turns and a few stops before settling down at a great home-style cooking buffet. After lunch, we went to a museum with motorcycles of all ages and types. Our Road Boss did manage to get a 50% discount for all of us (after his shirt got him a 100% discount!). Even at full price it still would have been a good deal, the owner even did a burn out and high speed run on an antique bike down the aisles of the museum (although part of the bikes chain guard fell off). Leaving there, we proceeded to Elizabethton, Tenn(our destination) with a total of 720 miles in two days. Arriving there was the most pleasant surprise of the trip. On a slight rise about 40 yards from the Watauga River was our home. They were called Bee Cliff Cabins and some were cabins, but our place was a fully equipped house with 3 bedrooms on the top floor, 2 bedrooms on the lower with 2 living rooms. 3 baths and 2 kitchens. We were met by Sam’s Mom, Dad and brother with his wife. There were 2 BBG’s stoked up for a great cookout. The next day we rode the Snake/421. I believe this is more fun than the Dragon. In Shady Valley, there is a biker store/café/gathering place. Within 12 miles of the store, there are 489 curves. They have a sticker that says it all “Dragon Smagon, in the playground there be twisties”. Highlite of the day was a reunion that included 4 or 5 generations of relatives and 9 traveling freeloaders with a table that must have been 50 feet long crammed full of some of the best home cooking and desserts you’ve ever seen. JoJo and I were in heaven. All the folks were the most open, friendly people I’ve ever met... When I was asked who I was by an attractive elder lady, I answered that “I was an out of state freeloader” she said “Freeloader or not, you still have to give me a hug.” A real sweetheart, she turned out to be Sam’s aunt. We left he next morning (Sunday) traveling south mostly on twisties down through North Carolina almost to Georgia before heading west to Chattanooga. Other than an hour or two of on again/off again rain, it was a great run. Sam & George left us there as they had an appointment the next day. The rest of us ran south to Gadsden for fuel then everyone except Chris M. and I stopped nearby for the night. He and I pressed on getting to Prattville, Al about ½ hour before sunset. I was surprised to find even with the gas stops, two lane twisties and rain, we traveled 521 miles that day. After sleeping in and having a hotel breakfast, I left for home. After a small mishap in Georgiana, I made it into Niceville just before noon for a well-deserved foot long chili cheese dog and strawberry shake at DQ. All told, 41/2 days and 1623 miles of great riding, it doesn’t get much better than that. Jerry G (The Comb) A Skwirrel’s Journey How to write about an absolutely fantastic trip to TN the Sandie way I can only hope to do it justice through my description. We gather in the o'dark thirty hours of the morn. Ride up toward the freeway via the backroads hooray! So much better! We stop at a nice place to eat called the Smokehouse. Meet up with the rest of the Sandies. Take a bit of freeway then we all head off to the backroads up Lookout Mint AL through Lookout Mint GA to Lookout Mint TN. How cool is that! Descend the mountain and onto the freeway where 24 and 75 sort of smish together...at 5 PM ewww. Since we all knew where the hotel was, we didn't have to keep together as usual. Plus, the cars wouldn't let you in the lane when you need to merge anyway. Im sure y’all know how it is.. blinker on until you think the battery would die.. as you use you eyes like a chameleon to look forward backward and sideways... get a slight opening to merge the bike into the lane some yahoo fills it in as your bike is almost half in the lane. Traffic comes to a sudden halt, but the yahoo who is cutting in line across the 3 lanes cuts right in front of a bike that happens to be coming up in the fast lane...on Steve's left. The idiot clips the biker's front tire and causes him to "lay her down". Here the miracles abound. 1..the car in back of the biker stopped on a dime and didn't run over him 2..no pieces of bike went into Steve's lane the would have compromised his riding 3..the rider was able to friggin' stand up afterwards! Welcome to friggin' Chattanooga! Later on Steve and I make it to the hotel and were able to resume the fun with the Sandies. Next day we all head out to the Gap....Oh my gawd!!!!!! After living in FL for decades, the definition of "hills" is so much different than mine. Like a roller coaster ride, there's up and up then UUUUUPPPPPPPP!!!!! I swear I could hear the ominous sounds the coaster makes as it slowly rolls upward before it drops like a rock down the track. Here we go! Can't scream ..too busy holding on! Heeding the advice I was given earlier..."don't daydream ,don't sightsee pay only attention to the road".. oh yeah and pay no mind to the tire marks and blood stains on that sharp curve. Go granny Go! Make it all the way down and see the Sandies waiting.. smiling, congratulating. Woohoo! Into the shop to buy my red badges of courage! I swear I felt so full of...testosterone!!!! A few things I learned afterwards...engine braking is a good thing and just because the picture of the Gap on a map is flat does not mean that it is! Was like doing Uturns on a hill. We did it and no one left anything for the Tree of Shame. A great ride! We all go to the cabins.. so nicely set in a serene country setting. I loved it. Sam's kinfolk come in and we are treated to grilled supper and great company. Was so nice watching Sam and her brothers and parents having a good time visiting. They are some really great folks!! The next day we all get led through another animal's body part. The Snake. Nice rolling curves. Everything is so pretty. We all go to the re union greeted by some really nice kinfolks. One cool dude there was attired in star shaped Elton John glasses and court jesters hat! That night we are treated to George's culinary arts and some of Jerry's Capt Morgan. Next morning it's time to say goodbye and head home. Wonderful place to be. Had a wonderful time with wonderful people. The route home was not a straight line.. and that's what makes it so much fun. I have to say this...if it weren't for being in the Sandies club, I know I would have not seen or experienced as many things that we have seen. It's a blast and I’m so glad to be a member Sharron (Skwirrel, Da Queen, et .al.) The NOT ride This is a biggest NOT ride I've ever been on. First of all, I wanted to take my big touring bike, a Harley Electraglide Ultra Classic on this 1600-mile trip but noooooooooo, some person who will remain nameless says I just gotta take the Hayabusa Sportbike. So the first NOT is NOT riding the Harley Touring bike on the Reunion Tour. Then comes the next NOT. This is Summer, this is June, this is the hottest time of the year....NOT! We leave Fort Walton at NOT light out time and only about 63 degrees. Guess what? It drops to the 50's by the time we get to the Alabama line. So when we stop (for my second breakfast of the day) at the Smoke House it is NOT dark anymore. Then we proceed to hit the road again it is NOT cold anymore. Somehow, it magically warms up to acceptable temperatures, the 80's NOT the 60's or 50's. When we get to the motel that evening, it is NOT very far from the Steak House. So what's a hungry Sandie to do? NOT give up a chance to eat a steak dinner is what! That is when that nameless person drops the Sandie Coin at dinner and I did NOT have my coin on my person, it was NOT very far away in my jacket pocket in my hotel room! The following morning we leave again almost before NOT light again. Next, stop Deal Gap! So there I am on a 160HP super-Sportbike ready to slay the Dragon, NOT. Seems the Tennessee Highway patrol had other ideas. The fourth curve into the DRAGON there are 4 police cars ready to escort anyone that needs it. So I end up massaging the Dragon instead of slaying it. Can you say "30MPH"? Stopping at the Gap store, we do some shopping for t-shirts and stuff. I took some photos of the Tree of Shame. Glad we did NOT leave any mementos on it! We also took a bunch of pictures with the Sandollar Banner. Guess what? I did NOT forget to leave room in the photos so I could Photoshop us all in the same picture, including the photographer. So after NOT eating any food at the GAP we head down the mountain. When we get down to the bottom, we did NOT see two of our group following us so we pulled over and waited for them. It was NOT a long wait and we had time to take more photos. Our next stop is the Wheels Through Time museum. That is one place you do NOT want to miss. If you wear your Sandollar Club patches and stuff, you may even get in free and NOT pay any entrance fee like George did. Seems the Museum is planning to move to Arizona in the NOT too distant future so don't wait too long to visit them. After the museum, we headed through the hills to get to the cabin. Seems that when we got there the keys to the front door were NOT available. So jumping for joy our intrepid group danced on the front porch, NOT! We did have a nice BBQ style cookout that evening and an empty belly was NOT found anywhere in the neighborhood. The following morning under a bright sunny sky, (NOT) we headed to the SNAKE, highway 421. Had a good time following the Martin brothers (our intrepid guides) along parts of the Snake under an overcast and sometimes drizzly sky. I only had one problem. We were headed to a feast at the Martin reunion but riding the Snake was just too much fun, so I could NOT figure out which one I wanted to do more. We ended up fashionably late to the food but it seems that the meal was held up and we did NOT miss a thing! NOT a bad way to end a morning's ride. Again, NOT and empty belly was found in the neighborhood. I was NOT feeling very chipper after the feast (seems it was naptime) so I and a few others headed back to the cabin via the local Harley shop. When we got to the shop, we hung out for about an hour and then used Steve's wonderful GPS machine to get back to the cabin real quick, NOT! Seems his little GPS toy likes to take the scenic routes through some lovely trailer parks and such. So ends another great day, NOT! Seems we have to eat some more food before we call it a day. Can you say "NOT and empty belly was found in the neighborhood" again? The following morning we start the day off by visiting the Watauga Dam just up the hill from the cabin. I'm glad we did NOT run into the two deer standing in the middle of the road on the way up to the dam. We NOT only took more pictures, we talked to some hikers and observed the beautiful scenery. While riding down from the dam we did NOT forget to visit the little Church In The Wildwood and take some more pictures. Then it was another short downward ride to the Martin estate to say our goodbyes to our hosts and of course, we did NOT forget to take more pictures. We also did NOT forget to stop at the Huddle House for breakfast. Again, "NOT and empty belly was found in the neighborhood". Heading back to the south was NOT a bad ride either. We found some NOT so traveled and NOT so well known roads with all kinds of nice twists and turns to enjoy. All in all this was NOT a bad ride and I would NOT have missed this ride for anything. Joejoe UP AROUND THE BEND (AND AROUND THE NEXT BEND AND THE NEXT AND THE NEXT--) Why does George always make these trips sound so fun and simple? “Come on”, he says, ‘join us on the reunion tour. It will be loads of fun, lots of twisties, the Dragon’s Tail, the Snake, the Chameleons Tail, the Dogs Leg, the Chickens Beak” and a few more I think he just made up names for. “A nice days ride, a good hotel to rest in, good company and then a short run to the Dragon’s Tail.” Sure, it sounded so simple and fun. And mostly it was. He also mentioned in passing “oh-it’s going to be hot so dress cool”. That last as an after thought I think. Or maybe more of a disclaimer. And then of course “did I mention we will be leaving really early? Like 5AM early?” Sure, now the truth starts to leak out. But being a Sandie, I’m up with Skwirrel at the appointed time at the appointed place with a big bunch of Sandies headed north to the first stop. It was deliciously cool outside. A wonderful temperature to ride in. High 60’s to low 70’s for several hours. However, as we stopped for breakfast at the Smokehouse restaurant near I-65 (yes, fellow Sandies, this trip would include a lot of the dreaded and much avoided Interstate Highway System, a necessary evil for Sand Dollars when time is of the essence), it started to get a bit warm. Mitchell joined up at the Restaurant after an errant stop by him at the wrong Smokehouse. Filled up, rested and eager to ride, we went outside and found the temperatures had climbed to the low 80’s and was going higher. Nevertheless, we headed out through Montgomery, through Birmingham, and up past Gadsden. Off the super slab into the hills, some simply nice rides to start out. As the Sandies got closer to Chattanooga, the roads got twistier. Is twistier a real word? Who cares, they got more twistier the closer we got because we were riding the spine of Lookout Mountain up through Georgia, Alabama, into Tennessee. Great roads. And only one Sandie really knew where we were. Can you guess which one? Sam? Nope, George? Not a clue, Me? Totally clueless as well. The answer will soon be revealed. Climbing the rest of the way to the top of Lookout Mountain, we circled Point Park, the site of a Civil War battle known as the “battle above the clouds”. Up and down and around and around we went. The reason we were going in circles is because Skwirrel, the Queen herself, was leading us. Now you may ask just why she is in the lead instead of our intrepid director of directions, George. Because she was giving us the grand tour of her childhood home, that’s why. It seems she grew up on the mountain, looking down on her soon to be royal subjects in the unsuspecting town below. She was the only one who knew where she was for sure and what was around the next corner. Of course she ditched us soon and we had to send out a search party. Mitchell cornered her and we all got behind George again as we started to slide down the mountain. Just a note here folks. If you are not up on your hills skills, don’t even attempt this feat. Switchbacks, tight right and left hand turns, steep, and I mean STEEP, downhill all the way to the bottom. Lots of brake smells on the way down from our crowd and the other vehicles headed down too. Arriving at the foot of the mountain, we gassed up and off onto the Super Slab we went on the way to the motel. As Skwirrel and I were held up by a bit of traffic, we got on late. The others were about a half mile ahead and traffic was horrendous on this road. If you don’t have to go through this town (Chattanooga) during rush hour, then please go around it. A silver Toyota pickup comes off the On-ramp, barely misses Skwirrels rear tire, I brake hard to miss him and he continues on to the next lane. Thirty seconds later another biker on a 02 VStar passes me. Just in time to get taken out by the pickup changing lanes. The VStar tumbles, the rider tumbles, Skwirrel goes to the right shoulder and stops, I hit the brakes, cut into the left shoulder and prepare to pickup the pieces. Surprisingly, the guy on the bike sits up and then stands before I get to him. He’s mad and takes off his beanie style helmet. There’s a chunk out of the top of the helmet by the way. He has a t-shirt, jeans and leather vest on. No gloves or heavy boots. He has a couple of minor abrasions on his elbows and otherwise seems ok. He had also bounced off a small red import car that, fortunately, stopped just before it ran over him. Traffic is blocked; Skwirrel is chasing down the pickup, which incidentally, had also stopped on her side of the road. The guy in the pickup tells her “well, the store closes in 15 minutes” and “I guess this means points on my license”. No Sh#@#6t Sherlock. He sits and waits for the cops at least. Once the cops and ambulance, etc get there, the statements are all taken the bike is awaiting a trailer and off we go to join the others at the motel. Traffic is still horrendous and now we are especially vigilant. The hotel is a refreshing break for the evening as we relax. George was right, good company was there. All the Sandies who headed up that way and Dr Cycle Therapist, Terry C his own self, with his wife, were there also. Off to dinner, a nice steak, and a few libations for those desiring such and lots of fun. Returning to the hotel, Skwirrel meets some old friends (did I mention she grew up there?) and off to the steakhouse they go again for some further libations. More fun to be had by all. I went to bed exhausted. And that was just the first of the five day trip. The second day we got underway and up the Super Slab we went again. Soon we were off the big concrete ribbon and onto the smaller, twistier, more fun, asphalt sections in the state. Suddenly we were upon it. The Dragon. Skwirrel took her time, handled the curves very well, albeit slower than most. Head turns, braking and entering curves all went well. Being way behind, we stopped for a breather near the top, talked to a few folks and took a few pics. Soon we were passing the area where they stand and take pictures of everyone passing by. We also noted several police type vehicles standing around. Seems that every time a group of bikes came by that looked like they could go fast, the LEO’s took off and followed them. Did I mention the speed limit on the Dragon is now 30mph? Did I mention they have already had more fatalities on this road so far this year than all of last year together? Seems they are doing their best to limit the squids from committing suicide. Not to mention the cruiser riders who think they can keep up with the Busa’s and ZX14’s. Safety was the word of the day for Sandies. Only one Sandie had anything close to a close shave. But I won’t mention Dave M’s name here. At the bottom of the hill shopping was the order of the day as the lady Sandies hit the store for appropriate souvenirs. And trust me on this folks, there were plenty of things to buy to remember ones trip. Decision’s Decisions decisions. Skwirrel and the others, some of the guys too, got the loot and off we went. More awesome roads as we headed to the Wheels Through Time Museum. You just know you are in a classy place when you see a 12 foot high chopper (that runs) sitting outside. Inside, George bribes the owner with a Sandie coin. It works; we all get in half price. Once inside the owner walks over to a Crocker, fires it up in three kicks, rides it around the inside of the museum and then does a burnout half the length of the building. Like George said. “I guess if you own the place you can do that.” Indeed, several times throughout the time there, bikes were started up. Bikes older than even me. Or George. And even a couple older than Jerry. Outstanding exhibits everywhere. Not enough time to really appreciate it but perhaps some other day when we are not in a hurry to get where we are going. Speaking of where we were going, we arrived at the lodge soon after. Beautiful place, on a hill overlooking a river with trout fisherman wading, a nice twisty road going further up the hill overlooking Lake Wautauga and a beautiful view! It just doesn’t get any better than that folks. A big delicious cookout and to bed we all go. No, not to just one bed. Quit thinking like that! Shame on you! Rested and ready we head out the next day for a ride through the hills guided by Sam’s brothers. They are really good guides and we hit the road named the “Snake”. It was a fun road, not as challenging as the Dragon and not as tight in the turns. No problem, Skwirrel had lots more fun on this road. Not because of any lack on her part but it just wasn’t as intense as the road the day before. All of us enjoyed the ride and mid day we attended Sam’s family reunion, hence the name of the ride being the “Reunion Tour”. Some fine folks and fine fried chicken was there. We enjoyed the day and the food and the folks. I’ve got to say, Sam’s family was very friendly to a bunch of bikers in off the road. Thank them all for us Sam. Back to the motel for some of us while some others went to see the “Blue Hole”. I have no idea what it looks like because even though pictures were shown, none of them resembled a blue hole in anything. Maybe someone has an actual picture of it they are hoarding? Sunday we all packed up and headed towards Chattanooga again. Once again we encountered some very enjoyable roads on the way. Even the mountain road with gravel on every turn was fun. But the fun was cut a bit short as rain moved in. After a rest at a truck stop we headed out on the super slab again for awhile. Soon though, we were hitting the more local roads. Not twisties per se, but fun and scenic nonetheless. As we neared Chattanooga, Skwirrel, myself, JoeJoe, Mitchell and Jerry decided we did not want to face the heavy Monday morning rush hour of Chattanooga. We continued on another hour past there and found a Holiday Inn Express to hole up in. Jerry and Mitchell kept on the road and I hear they made it to Prattville that evening. The rest of us had a nice supper and headed out the next morning. We averaged 75mph headed down the Interstate towards home, stopping for gas and once to eat at the same Smokehouse restaurant we stopped at on the way up. Refreshed and refilled we hit the road to the house. Only two hours away, we took our time and arrived back home around 4pm. The pets were all still alive, some minor indiscretions by the kids while we were gone and most of all, we rested in our own beds. There’s no place like home, no matter how enjoyable the trip. Can’t wait till the next one! SPCTRESTEVE My Journey Of Re-Discovery I will let Jerry G and Steven G gives you the day to day, I was there stuff. For me this trip was all about a renewal, a back to why I love Motorcycling. In this time of change, it was nice to rediscover the joy of riding with friends on sweeping roads, topping a hill and the next valley is spread out in front of you and the road you’re following flows downhill and disappears into the trees. Riding with Sandies that had never been to East Tennessee helped make this renewal happen, the excitement was infectious. No matter how bad the traffic in Cherokee, no matter how many U-turns in Maggie Valley (9), everyone just had fun. Even the people you ride with add to the whole timber of the Road. Well, the Mitchell and the Duck added to the level of fun. The people you meet along the way if they ride a Motorcycle, you have an instant bond. It was all about watching Sam with her family and watching them interact with the Sandies. Like The Duck voting on Martin family business since he did contribute money to next years family reunion. The time one of the more eccentric Aunts wanted to know what side of the family he was from and he remarked to the effect “he was here from Florida to eat the free Lunch and she remarked that she hoped he had enough to eat. It was watching The Sandies roaming around The Wheels in Time Museum and they really understood the significance of the exhibits. It was listening to the conversations around a meal table and how everything revolved around those motorcycles outside and the journey still to come . It was watching the expression on JoeJoe’s face when he realized that he had left his Sandie coin at the Hotel. It was Skwirrel’s smile when she pulled into the Store at Deals Gap after running the Dragon. This was a Journey for me, it helped me rediscover what I had come to love about Motorcycling: The Roads, The Friends, The adventure and how that adventure is as close as 5 miles or 350 miles away. George The reunion tour 2008. I rode, I saw, I liked Good bike, good friends (ok riding acquaintances), and good roads Sore butt, sore legs, sore brain and one Alabama ticket for "not doing a good enough stop" The End The Mitchell

The Capital City Challenge ride for 2008 is in the history books and for those who were unable to attend, you missed a great ride. The morning we left started off dreary, overhead clouds threatened to rain on us. The merry group of riders who again follow our fearless Road Captain George into unknown adventures were ready, willing and able to ride. Ok, maybe not all were able to ride; some of us make attempts at it. Anyway we hit the trail going down onto Hwy 98; we headed for Panama City where we then ran up 331 to Hwy 20. The Rain still ever looming, we trudged on. Arriving in Tallahassee around 11 am, we located the mall and the Motorcycle Cop Competition. Folks if you have never seen this done before, you are missed something extraordinary. The way those guys handle those bikes is awe inspiring. After watching the competition, we headed to the hotel. After some problems with mine and Jerry’s reservations, (booked at the wrong hotel by accident and trying to deal with a real jerk to get it canceled so could stay with everyone else) we got into our rooms and unloaded our bags. We then went for a ride on a beautiful street shaded with moss hanging trees. There were lots of wonderful curves to lean the bikes into. We then stopped at this little country store where they make homemade sausage. The Sandies being the food whores we are, decided it was time for a little snack. I ordered a 6” sausage with mustard and a tea to wash it down. That sausage was the best tasting sausage I have ever had. After a little while there, we got back on our trusty steeds and headed back to the hotel and dinner. Dinner was at a steak house next to the hotel. The place was quite elegant, the atmosphere, cozy, the food…….AWESOME! We shared many appetizers amongst the group and Lee (Rocketman) was gracious enough to share his Spicy Thai Shrimp. It was fantastic. After dinner some of us retired to our rooms for the night, others seemed to have a wild brew ha-ha in the parking lot. I’m sure George will write about that in his article. Sunday morning arrived with a slight chill in the air. We loaded up our gear ate breakfast at the hotel and headed out for another day of misadventures. Our first stop of the morning was in the town of Cairo. No not Egypt, Cairo Georgia or Florida, not sure what state we were in then. Cairo is the birthplace of baseball legend Jackie Robinson. Nice town to visit. Our next stop was then in a place that is near and dear to many a heart, CLIMAX! Yes, you read it right, we had a visit to Climax on the trip. Now before your perverted little minds start to wonder, it was Climax Georgia, not some seedy hotel room or dirty little book store. We only lasted a minute in Climax then we were off again to Lake Seminole and a country buffet at Wingate’s restaurant. The food there was awesome and the wait staff was full of humor as it seems they like to give my tea order to someone else each time I would order. The waitress kept saying something about not staying in my seat after I ordered it is why she kept giving it away. We had a good laugh over this and when I was getting some desert, she came up and gave me a hug and thanked me for making her day. With our bellies full, we headed for home. We had more location to visit on our adventure, Fallen Water State Park to see the tallest waterfall in the state! If you ask my opinion, it is the only waterfall in the state. We hit the road hard and put down some miles. When we got into Chipley, we easily made our way to the park, paid our $2 dollars to get in and went to see the waterfall. George has been going to this place for 50 years and has never seen water flowing over the falls. We hiked down to the falls and with all the rain that we have received lately, it was spectacular! The falls are73 feet high and there were a beautiful rainbow in the mist. We took pictures, Becky and Cool hand Luke (Not Luck) acted like a couple of young kids smooching under the falls. We had to remind Becky that this wasn’t Niagara Falls. After all the hoop-law settled down, we made our way back to the bikes loaded up and rode back to hwy 90 and the final leg home. Once in Defuniak Springs, some of us stopped for gas and the others pressed onwards to the final destinations. The trip was one I will remember for a long time, the laughing, the roads, and yes the food were all incredible. We are lucky that we have such a talented and adventuress club to ride with! I can’t wait for next year!!!!!!!!!!!! Keith D (RL) ---------------- I survived my first overnight trip with the Sandies. WOW. I have to say I had some stressful times. Where do I start? I guess it would be Saturday Morning. I thought The Mitchell told me that the group stops about every hour to get gas and to use the bathroom. So about 45 mins into the trip it was time for me to use the bathroom. I’m thinking I have about another 15 mins and then we will stop. I had to unbutton and unzip my pants to relieve the pressure on my bladder. I sure thought I was going to have to pull over. Only problem is I would have gotten lost since I didn’t know the route that we were taking. Some where around 45 mins later we stop and I thought I was going to not make it to the restroom. Thank god I was the first girl to get to the bathroom. One of the guys said I came out of the bathroom with a big smile on my face. From then on I was pretty good on the restroom. Ok now to Red lights. I’m not sure how many red lights I had to run to stay with the group. I know I know. Your saying well if you would of rode on Mitchell’s BMW rather than driving your own four wheeled BMW you wouldn’t have had to worry about that. RIGHT? I know you are. LOL Ok now to the anxiety I had two cars get between me and Steve, he was the last bike in the group. And I just knew that the light would turn yellow and Steve would go and the car in front of me wouldn’t go and I would be stuck. Ok now to the Police. I found out that the Sandies don’t know how to drive the speed limit. The speed limit was like 45 mph and we were going anywhere from 60 to 80 miles an hour. And then my radar detector started going off. I knew I was going to get busted. I could only imagine what that ticket would cost, 80 in a 45. I think I would have been taken to jail. Thank god that that was a blue day and I didn’t have on all my pink Harley stuff because I can only imagine what the girls in jail would of done to me. LOL. Thank goodness at the end at 331 in Defuniak we stopped at the gas station because a Highway Patrol was so ready to pull us over. Then on the way home we broke off from the group and The Mitchell wanted to see how fast he could drive his bike he left me in the dust. What a nice guy.. HUH Ok now to the good stuff. It was interesting watching the Police do the challenge and watching them drop their bikes. I had no clue how they picked the bikes up after they dropped them. I learned from the event. Thank you to The Mitchell for buying a new helmet so I could ride with the group to Bradley’s Country Store. That was a great ride. It was beautiful seeing the Canopy roads. Thank goodness we got to the store when we did. They weren’t too happy to see us there they keeps saying we are closing. I’m sure they like the money we spent. They have awesome smoked sausage. Dinner was nice. It was great having everyone at dinner. Jerry didn’t make it to dinner I understand he was in his room with his Captain Morgan. Waiting on his bed for Sharron and Steve. He missed a great dinner. My Prime Rib was yummy. Thanks to Steve for the Coin Challenge. When he threw his coin down. I played it off like I didn’t have one. But you have to remember who my boyfriend is *The Mitchell* do you really think he would let me go without a coin. So thank you Steve for my Key Lime Martini it was so yummy I wish I had a picture of The Mitchell’s face when he took a drink of it. I only needed one and I was buzzed. After that The Mitchell and I went back to the room and tried out the Jacuzzi.. NICE.. I’m kind of bummed that we weren’t apart of the drama the rest of the Sandies had at their hotel. From what George said the police got called because the girls were getting wild singing outside. The girls would be (Miss Tina, Mrs. Lisa, Sharron, and Sam.) And what I understand is that George was also a part of it. I’m sorry we missed out on your guy’s fun. On Sunday we missed breakfast because we had to get on the road but we had a good lunch at the Fish Camp. And I learned to use the bathroom every chance I could after the Saturday morning event. Just when I thought the trip was over and we were on our way home. We stopped at the Falling Waters State Park. We got to see a Beautiful water fall with a rainbow. That was really nice. It was interesting seeing the sink holes. George said that he has been to see the waterfall for over 50 years and that was the first time there was actually a waterfall. Since we had a lot of rain the water was really flowing. I can’t wait for the next trip. This one took us 4 ½ hours to get to Tallahassee and 7 hours to get home. It was fun. I want to thank everyone that went. The Mitchell, Steve, Sharron, David M., Will, Lee, Keith, Joe, Jerry, Sam, George, David Moody, and Tina for making me feel welcomed to the group. Since I was a Virgin on this trip. Becky ---------------------- One More O-Dark-30 get up for an overnight trip to the Capital City Challenge to watch the real Bike Pros show their stuff. This was the fourth one I’ve been lucky enough to see and still can’t believe how they herd those Hogs. The course was one of the best, with four separate layouts run consecutively with the clock running the whole time. Even practicing 8 hours a day, unlimited funds to cover Clutch and Brake repairs, I still couldn’t make it. We left there, took one of Tallahassee famous “Canopy Roads” to Bradley’s Country Store and one of the best smoked sausage sammiches ever. Next day, it was a perfect day to ride. In typical Sandie fashion we went to Ga, back to Fla. Then back to Ga, again. Had lunch, a super Buffet, at the Lunker Lodge on Lake Seminole. Great ride home from there, perfect weather and a full belly. Thanks to 2 No-Doz, I didn’t even need a nap. My personal high point was Skwirrell’s reaction when I told her I really felt sorry for the Tallahassee Female Motor Officer. When Skwirrell asked “why?’ I said that if she had killed 2 more cones she would have made “Ace”. Jerry --------------- Ok let's skip the getting there part, let's move right on over to the police competition. Now to watch these officers handle these big bikes was pretty awesome. I mean foot pegs scrapping, motor mounts protecting the motor. I thought when we left it would be the last we would see of the officers...I thought wrong. We left the mall; I don't know how many bikes. But there was this one, reddish looking lots of seats, tires, Four Doors or maybe two, had a name very similar to a German Marque. But it wasn't a trike, but still more than a trike. This more than a trike followed Mitchell. Maybe someone took a picture you decide what it is. Checked in at the hotel freshen up and off riding. You know the drill. Beautiful roads great people, wonderful time. Back to the hotel and then to eat. Thought party time was over, we watch Squirrel drink fifteen long island teas ( Well maybe only a couple, but that wouldn’t make for a great story), but noooooo. Get to the hotel and Hippie John and his sibling (a former Top Officer of The Sandies) no more names mentioned, are playing loud music. Squirrel not her real name, was there and two someone’s who ride on the back (names begin with Tina and Lisa). Again no real names mentioned to protect the innocent...it ain't them. George and myself was there trying to keep some order. No such luck. Remember the officers...you decide. Dave M --------------------- My first overnighter as a Sandie, must admit I was a bit nervous since my first day ride, the Ed’s Red from Hell Ride (ERfHR) was, well, let’s just say memorable, and with the two prior days of nothing but rain, surely it couldn’t be worse but I figured what the heck and packed for the short overnighter. Saturday morning, leave time 0700hrs – I’m not a morning person and never will be – plus the weather was damp, cloudy and cool. Everyone mounts up and we head off east on 98 towards Panama City. For whatever reason, un-luck of the draw, I’m leading the second group. Mitchell would later comment that he’s figured out my new nickname – RL 2 ‘cause I’ve caught EVERY red light through Destin, San Destin and beyond (Sorry Keith). Anyway, as we press on through the misty rain and slick roads, the sky looks like it could open up anytime (thoughts of the ERfHR keep popping up). Thankfully, it never does and we keep riding East. I’m doing my best to set a modest pace when Rocket blasts by, as Skwirrel put it, the “fly by”. At the next light – yep, caught another one – I ask skwirrel if the pace is ok and she said you’re doing fine. We make Tallahassee and find the Mall to watch the Motorcycle competition. Enough police officers to make even an honest man nervous, but the competition was impressive and everyone enjoyed it. The highlight for me was watching them pickup the heavy HDs after the drop, and one officer tossing the cone that he was dragging over his shoulder in disgust. About 2:45, Sam tells us we’re heading out to check into the hotel and go for a short ride – which was fine with us. We arrive at the hotel and everyone gets checked in ok except Jerry and RL – read their story for more on this. Anyway, we settle into our rooms, then, meet outside for the afternoon ride. George takes us down a nice, shaded winding road, a perfect end of day ride, arrive at this little country store that’s famous for it’s smoked sausages. After confirming that we are having dinner at a steak house, I settle for a honey bun instead to satisfy my sweet tooth. That night for dinner, after everyone is seated, we notice that MacRocket is missing. I go back to his room only to find that he’s already at the restaurant but somehow missed us being seated. All I can say is the food was terrific – prime rib outstanding. Was entertaining to watch Skwirrel and her 3 long island teas (she kept insisting she wasn’t driving), and every one else enjoying the perfect atmosphere. Steve did a coin check only to have it backfire on him, he didn’t mind and everyone gave him a break – oh well, good times indeed. We get back to the hotel and I later hear a party broke out…heard someone almost got tossed out of the hotel…you’ll have to ask George the details. Next day, Sunday was absolutely beautiful for the ride home. George cut us a break by making our first and only u-turn early in the ride. We rode through scenic back roads but I knew we were in trouble when we all rode into Climax, Ga, the stories started, (wonder if I can mount a cb on my Sabre), had an early lunch at Lake Seminole, saw some impressive sink holes and the highest (an only?) waterfall in Florida, then on home. Oh, while still leading the second group, seems we get separated again due to me catching EVERY stop light through some town on 90 W. Definitely a great ride with some of the best people I’d ever hope to ride with. Already looking forward to the next, but you may want to think twice before letting me lead another group. Joe R (aka RL 2) ------------------- The Four State Tour: Capital City Challenge 2008 Well we left at 0700 hours (that is 7 am for you non-military people.) We started down highway 98 enroute to Tallahassee. Now there are three ways to measure direction in Sandollar terms. There is the most direct route by road, the path the crow’s fly, and then the George Engler route. The Engler route is unpredictable and never, never, never direct and straight forward and that is what we got on the roads to Tallahassee and back to Fort Walton Beach. We had a good group and if I remember this was the most on a trip to Tallahassee we have ever had. The main focus of the trip was to watch the Capital City Challenge. But first we had to get there. We picked up Rocketman further down 98 and then proceeded on to a road not fit for a tank let alone a motorcycle. It reminded me of some pot-holed road from Western Pennsylvania or West Virginia. I got hit by road debris at least two times. After this short (20 miles out of 450 plus) the rest of the roads were pure riding roads. For anyone wanting to experience the best roads in Florida for motorcycle riding, then the canopy roads just north of Tallahassee must be rated as some of the Florida’s best in terms of scenic beauty. The rolling tree curtained roads bordered by farms and horse ranches make this trip to the Capital City worth it every time. The Capital City Challenge is worth the experience just in seeing what can be accomplished by good riders on good motorcycles (what? did they ride both Harley-Davidson and BMW machines.) Now who in their right mind would own both brands of bikes? We as Sandollars do skills…but these riders DO SKILLS ten times up. Even seeing motorcycles being dropped does not diminish the accomplishments of these riders, male and female alike. Well worth watching. We then went on a short ride to one of the Sandollar landmarks. Like the old store in Burnt Corn, Bradley’s Country Store is an icon in our trip books. Bradley’s is a quaint little store that specializes in the homemade smoked and fresh sausages. Along the way to the store is one of the most unusual yards I have ever seen and most of the riders probably miss it on every trip to Bradley’s. It is partially hidden by a small tree line off to the left as we travel through the outskirts of North Tallahassee. It has a huge American Flag flying but even more unusual are the statutes of whales and dolphins in the yard. One whale has a water fountain shooting out of its blow hole. I told Becky before hand to get her camera ready for the picture. She got a great picture of this. Dinner as usual at Marie Livingston’s was fantastic. They serve some of the best prime rib in the state. I had the grouper, which was also very good. I also had a pork chop from George’s plate and that might get my vote on our next trip to Tallahassee. Wingate Landing is another of those food icon places in Sandollar lore. A simple country buffet that is just over the Georgia line at the base of Lake Seminole. The trip home was another Engler route that of course varied from the planned excursion, but again well worth any diversions that we did. Falling Waters State park is another one of those unique experiences that needs to be seen in the state of Florida. The state of Florida and the state of Georgia are two of the four states alluded to in the title of this writing. The remaining two states: since we traveled through Climax, Georgia that makes the state of ecstasy, and then the standard Sandollar state of confusion. Chris “Cool Hand” the Mitchell --------------------------- Thoughts From the Road 1. George’s GPS always leads us to water (a.k.a. rain) Note to Sandies: we need to reprogram that sucker to find sunshine 2. Just when you think all the gremlins are worked out of your bike they attack 3. RL in the number six position on the first group is bad news for the second group 4. Dodging potholes is a good skills lesson 5. George knows where to find sausage, even in Tallahassee 6. When the president does a coin challenge he loses (thanks for the beer Steve) 7. Sandies eat at the best places 8. No pole dance this year but the police were very polite (so I’m told, I was in my room) 9. Sunday is just a great day to ride when the Sun is out 10. Becky takes a LOT of pictures 11. Mitchell can tell what is wrong with you just by eating your food 12. After 40 years George finally got to see the waterfall 13. Georgia has weird town names 14. A bunch of Sandies entering Climax (Ga, get you mind outta the gutter) one right after the other is a weird sight. 15. Signs in Climax (yeah I can’t stop writing it) Enter: Ya’ll come, Leaving: Ya’ll come again. Not to mention the Climax Community Group (I’ll bet they have fun) 16. There is no place like home 17. If you are going to ride, ride with people you like (or that you can make fun of) 18. If your bike ain’t dirty, you don’t ride enough Animal ------------------------------- The dove flew to the Ark and presented Noah the twig.Noah turned to the Sandies and said "It is now time to go forth and ride". Hastily we mounted our awaiting metal steeds and took off toward east..where the sun was rising and the land was drying from the non stop rains of the previous week. George rounded the herd of us riding cats and aimed us toward Tallahassee. A direct route in Sandie speak to the motorcop competition starting at 11 AM. Be there! And there we made it...on time! Watched in amazement to the skills of the cops weaving in and out the Maze of ConeLand...tight,tight turns. Sounds of scraping metal as they drag their floor boards in the maze. Men in tight pants and boots..oh yeah baybee...hunka hunka...but I digress... Very talented men and women showed their prowess in mastering the fine art of maneuvering the huge Harleys and BMWs in the tightest mazes of cones. Enjoyed watching them thoroughly. Time for us to check in at the hotel. Later we gather together to go on a short ride to Bradley's Store..home of the delicious homemade sausage.We travel very beautiful canopied roads... a great route away from the hustle and bustle and red lights of the city (caught so many red lights that actually wore off my nail polish on my big toe from shifting so many times). Thanks to George's skillful herding, we all made it there ..right before closing. Good timing! I love that store..set in such a serene country setting consisting of huge old oak trees draped in Spanish moss and maintained pastures. Riding to there is a treat. We all make it back to the city of red lights and to the final destination of the day...the hotel. Which I might add is waddling distance to a fine restaurant..with a full bar heh heh. We all gather for fun,food and libations. So much fun hanging with the ridingest group of nuts..that's what it's all about. Always have a blast. After stuffing ourselves, we all meander back toward our rooms. The fun can't be over yet..it's too early! My son Shelby and Steve head back to the room..I..on the other hand...gravitate to where the wild and crazy Central Sandies are congregating..with his sister Miss Aiding and Abeting Sam of FWB Sandies....that's right..I'm squealing on ya. I will say this..Hippie John does have a bodacious sound system on his bike and I'm glad he shared it with us (and the other hotel guests). Those wild folks were told to keep it down. I, on the other hand ..was busy adjusting my halo (cough). Next morning it's time to head west. George manages to squeeze in a goodbye Uturn before we are on our way leaving Tally the pretty way (back roads) . Explore the water fall of Florida caused by a sink hole.Who knew Florida had one? Was in full flow due to the previous rains. And of course eating at a buffet at Wingate's in Seminole. Yummy. This is what it's all about..getting together with great friends, exploring the world and having a blast doing so. Getting off the proverbial porch. da Skwirrel

March 2008 This is Paco's story of his unplanned trip to the Big Bend area near the end of March 2008: Robert arrived late Friday evening. After greetings and salutations, we pop the cork and start discussing THE PLAN. Inebriated we decide to wing it. Richard, that other piece of scooter trash, was supposed to hook up with us but the siren song of Hollywood beckoned. He got a gig as a co-director to some trashy movie. His fame will spread. Next will be the fleshpots of Bollywood, cavorting with dark skinned nubile nymphs. His loss. Saturday morning, bikes loaded, we head west towards Big Bend National Park - the biggest one in the Federal system and the least visited. Lion Warning We arrive in Del Rio, Texas at 1:30 AM, tired and looking for a place to rest. They had a biker rally, fishing tournament, and rodeo all on the same weekend. Only two rooms available: one, smelling of curry and stale cigarette smoke, on the bad side of town for $130 + tax; the other with a single bed, no hot water, heat or air conditioning for $88 + tax. We move on. At 4 AM, we find a dusty patch next to some 18-wheelers. After our farting and snoring intruded on the rumble of the big rigs' engines, they cranked up and left... Breakfast in Marathon, Texas at sunrise, in a cold outdoor café - chilled eggs and coffee. Then on to Big Bend. More pics and tall tales to follow. Cool morning and day. High 60's and sunny. Perfect. Breakfast again at the Kosmic Kafe. Then on to Glenn Springs, Pine Canyon, parts of the River Road again, Black Gap and the Old Ore Road. More of the same. Class 1 and 2. Off River Road, we stop at the Mariscal mine. Quicksilver, discovered in 1900 is the reason for the existence of Terlinqua. In 1943, the price collapsed, taking along the economy of Terlinqua. Robert pinched one off into one of the chimneys thinking that it was the latrine. I have pictures to prove it. What a face of agony! Must have been a Mexican Corn Log. Black Gap road was absolutely the best. Parts are probably class 3. Very technical in spots. Only four-wheel drive vehicles with high clearance can attempt it. This was the site of my first drop. I stopped for pics of Robert coming down a rocky portion. When I mounted my bike, I fell off the other side. Cactus hurt. Later on, on an uphill right-hander, there was a slick rock 3 feet high, 6 feet long +/- I tried to use it as a berm, like you see the MX’ers do at the track. The bike lost traction and we slid down its face. Still in the saddle but in an awkward position. I had to get off to position the bike for a run up the boulders as that was now the only line available to me. I hate to backtrack, even though it would afford better traction, so I just muscle it up. After much dabbing off this or that foot I made it to the top, breathing hard. On to the Ore Road. Maybe a class 2 in parts. Very loose stuff here and there. Jimmy Lewis taught me that the perfect Zen moment comes when you are flowing and thinking of other things. Well I was going down a slight incline when my parched lips were tasting the ardent kisses of my lady. In front was a rut or wash out. No worries. Lean the bike, easily clear the obstacle, then nothing but smooth sailing. Well I commit the cardinal sin of all motorcyclists - I look down! Softball size loose rock catches my eye, thereby my rear wheel, front tire skids right into the obstacle I was trying to avoid. Rut catches wheel, forward progress is abruptly interrupted, human becomes projectile. Simple physics, dumb rider. ATGATT (ALL THE GEAR, ALL THE TIME) is my creed, but due to heat and seeking more comfort, I had attached my elbow guards loosely by the Velcro strips instead of slipping them on like a sock, then cinching them down securely. Well, the rest of the gear protected me in this run of the mill face plant. The elbow guard, though, rode up, and my forearm mated with a small rock. Ripped a chunk of MY precious flesh open to about the size of a dime. One eight to one quarter inch deep. You could see the globs of white fatty tissue in the jagged rip. Do you call this Washboard Rash? The Hill Country Rub? Always carrying an emergency first aid kit, we applied anti-bacterial cream, gauze and tape. Then headed in. At the Study Butte grocery/liquor store sought assistance, as I needed stitches. The local PA (17 miles away in Lajitas) could not be reached as the phone lines were down - a common occurrence. The hospital was 90 miles away in Alpine. What to do? Well, bought the finest American made whiskey, then as an after thought, more gauze, anti bacterial cream, hydrogen peroxide, and rubbing alcohol - almost $16. Put my hands up at the banditos. The whiskey was cheap at any price. Back at camp, went to the showers to remove the trail dust and field dressing. Had to Cowboy Up and clean/ scrub the wound with soap. Then pour peroxide, then the rubbing alcohol. It had me screaming like a thirteen-year-old girl. Gobs of ant bacterial cream and gauze along with the bourbon would get me through the night. Day’s mileage: 140. Next morning broke camp and headed home. Had to dance the Texas Two Step with my arm again. Second, go round hurts just as bad as the first. Stopped just outside of San Antonio and ate at Rudy’s Country Store and Bar-B-Q "Worst Bar-B-Q in Texas". They don’t lie. Arrived home at 5AM unloaded. Cleaned bike, started chores, and went dancing again. This time those ardent kisses are the better balm than bourbon.

On Saturday April 21, 2007 some not-so-sane Sandollar Club members decided to try their hand at riding 1000 miles in under 24hours. The following are some of their stories: IRON BUTT? (I don’t think so…) What on earth have I gotten myself into? A couple of months ago I had come home from work tired and desperately in need of rest and some ‘do nothing’ time. After two beers and an hour of relaxing, I got a phone call from George Engler. “What are you doing later this spring?” asked George. My two beers responded with far more enthusiasm than I actually felt and said that I was “up for pretty much anything’. I was later to discover that was mistake number one. George preyed on the fact that I had once told him that I had always wanted to do an Iron Butt ride (probably had a couple of beers that night too). For those not familiar, the Iron Butt Association (IBA) is a national group who sanctions long distance motorcycle rides, usually timed. The rides vary in length and time with the most popular one being the ‘Iron Butt SaddleSore 1000’ (riding a minimum of 1000 miles in less than 24 hours). These rides are subject to levels of proof and documentation usually reserved for border crossings into former Soviet Bloc countries: witnesses (and their phone numbers), receipts with address/date/time stamps, fuel and odometer tracking, an official person to certify start/finish place & time, etc. Still, it’s an elite group of motorcycle riders and the reward for completing a sanctioned ride is IBA membership and a license plate frame that says, “IRON BUTT Association – World’s Toughest Riders.” It takes a very special kind of person to be inordinately proud of a small piece of metal which contains the words “IRON BUTT” in all capital letters then put it on the back of your bike so thousands of strangers can see it each day in traffic. And, yes, Sand Dollar motorcycle club members are exactly those kinds of people. Imagine my (sober) surprise when George called and said “Let’s do the Iron Butt this weekend!” Um, ok. If I have to… I guess… Let me paint a mental image for you, just to set the stage… My dad has been going through radiation and chemo-therapy and I have spent most of what passes for ‘spare’ time the last few weeks at his house. My only full-time employee has been on maternity leave for 6 weeks and the two part-time employees are both college students with approximately zero schedule flexibility, both of our retail stores have just shifted into longer summer hours and my wife and I are task-saturated and exhausted. So how am I going to spend my only day off in a month-and-a-half? That’s right, I’m gonna ride a motorcycle 1000 miles in less than 24 hours. Apparently that which I lack in intelligence, I more than make up for with sheer mind-boggling bad judgment. There was a small devil on my left shoulder (who bore a striking resemblance to George, now that I think about it) who kept saying, “Go ahead! You can do it. It’s a motorcycle ride! There’s not much in this world you enjoy more than riding a motorcycle“. Listening to the little devil was mistake number two. The agreed upon meeting place and time was a convenience store on MLK Blvd. at two. That’s Oh two hundred A. M. o’clock in the morning, by the way, in case you were thinking that the Sand Dollar M/C might do something sane and reasonable like leave in the daytime. Nope. We leave in the middle of the night when nobody is awake except criminals and the police officers who chase them. While we did have a couple of current and past peace officers in our group, most of us are just a little shady and are a not qualified for actual criminal-hood. I rode up to the meeting place and immediately noticed that there was exactly one motorcycle in the parking lot when there were supposed to be 10 or 12. That one motorcycle did not belong to George. I couldn’t believe that after talking this thing up and arranging it through dozens of phone calls and hundreds of e-mails, George was going to blow it off. While I was adding “Take out a contract on George” to the top of my mental ‘To-Do’ list, George and about nine other Sand Dollar members rode up over the space of just a couple of minutes. Say whatever you will about the Sandies, we may not have the tough street cred of some other Motorcycle Clubs, but we are a damned punctual bunch and we still strike terror into the hearts of restaurant cooks and wait-staff all over the southeast. The poor woman who was working the grave-yard shift at the store really didn’t know what to make of the dozen or so motorcycle riders in full road-warrior gear. We’re all walking around talking and cross-talking to each other and all she can hear is, “mumble, mumble, murmur, IRON BUTT, mumble, mumble”. After a dozen requests for her signature and the store’s address and phone number, she got so that she wouldn’t even look at us any more. You’ve got to present a truly strange appearance for third –shift convenience store staff to think you’re weird. They’ve seen everything. If you can weird one of them out, you’re world-class. After completing forms and receipts, filling gas tanks and emptying bladders, thereby establishing a pattern which was to continue unmodified for the next 19 and a half hours, we were off. (OK, it could be said that we were all a ‘little off’ or we wouldn’t have been there at oh two hundred A.M o’clock in the morning, anxious to go to Texas.) Professional hurricane magnet and weather channel guru, Jim Cantore had promised beautiful weather for our ride. Lows in the upper fifties and a high in the upper seventies - Perfect motorcycle riding weather. As we pulled out on the open road the temp was actually in the mid-50’s and was a little “brisk”. The temperature continued to grow ever more brisk until we merged from I-110 onto I-10 West just out of Pensacola. At that point, it changed from “pretty damn brisk” to cold. No euphemisms. Not ‘cool’, ‘nippy’, or ‘chilly’. Not ‘airish’ or ‘invigorating’. Not ‘spring-like’. It was COLD. Bone-chilling, demoralizing, frost in your nostrils, icicles-hanging-off-your-(Iron)Butt COLD. I seriously considered turning around while still within an hour of my house. I’ve ridden in some pretty cold weather but that’s when I was dressed for it. All I had on was jeans, a tee-shirt, a denim shirt and a riding jacket designed for ‘brisk’ weather, not COLD. When it’s genuinely cold, wind-chill at interstate highway speeds on a motorcycle can be fierce. You become aware of every single place where air is entering your clothing, no mater how small the amount. You hunch your shoulders forward to cut down on the air rushing down your collar. Scoot your feet back on the pegs and raise them up on tip-toe to prevent the air from going up your pants leg (this particular blast of artic air is VERY noticeable). You squeeze your knees in tight against the tank and tuck your elbows in, too, while leaning forward to minimize surface area exposed to the wind. In spite of your discomfort, you suddenly realize that a term from high school having to do with chimpanzees and football fornication is a very accurate description of your posture at this moment. You don’t care. It was COLD all the way to Mobile, Alabama. There, presumably because of all the concrete and asphalt, the temperature climbed up a good 10 degrees to “pretty damn brisk” again and we didn’t encounter anymore artic weather for the rest of the trip. Sunrise over your shoulder on a motorcycle trip is a magically peaceful time. You can feel the warmth grow around you with the light. The sun begins to make good on Jim Cantore’s promise of beautiful weather and suddenly, instead of wanting to turn around and go home, I couldn’t think of anywhere on earth I’d rather be. Even the smells change with daybreak. Riding through towns, large and small, where people are starting their day by having breakfast at Waffle house or Mom & Pop’s cafe. We ride by, inconsequential as ghosts, and smell the bacon and eggs, the waffle on the side with maple syrup, and always the coffee aroma, floating in the background like a bass-note. We ride on, chasing the sunrise line at over a hundred feet per second and the nameless people get on with their day, never knowing they shared a little bit of it with us. After the gorgeous sunrise, the miles just rolled by. Coastal Mississippi and eastern Louisiana a mix of beautiful natural estuaries and cedar flats, occasionally jarringly punctuated by astonishing devastation and row after row after row of white FEMA trailers, very visible reminders of the equally natural incredible power and fury of Hurricane Katrina. We crossed into Texas and eventually arrived at our destination, Winnie, Texas, the turn-around point. We were now officially halfway. It was also lunch time. Only the Sand Dollar Motorcycle Club would leave at two in the morning and ride over five hundred miles for lunch. In Winnie, Texas. At a Subway sandwich shop. Inside a truck stop. With food, fuel and restroom breaks out of the way, we started toward home. You start to count the miles individually, every mile putting us exactly one mile closer, looking for towns and landmarks you recognize as visual proof that you’re actually getting closer. In the back of my head is a small annoying child-like voice that keeps saying, “Are we there yet?” It’s mid-afternoon and the warm sunshine and lunch have combined with fatigue to make me drowsy. I’ve ridden motorcycles for forty of my forty-nine years. I’ve ridden when temperatures were in the teens, and in temps over a hundred degrees. I have ridden in fog thick enough to drink it out of a cup and rain so intense that visibility was probably better in the tea-cup fog. At night with a burned-out headlight, or with a broken clutch cable, brake failure, you name it. Once, when I was much younger, with the help of a willing and adventurous girlfriend I was able to do things on a motorcycle that you don’t ordinarily associate with a moving motorcycle. One thing I had never done before on a motorcycle, though, was sleep. Not on a moving one, anyway. I woke up when I ran over a couple of ‘Bott’s Dots’ (the little reflectors in the middle of the road) at around 85 miles an hour. Waking up at 85 (alone) on a motorcycle is the kind of thing that gets your absolute and undivided attention. Right Now. In this case, it also cured my drowsiness. I got a shot of adrenaline that left a taste in my mouth like I had licked a battery and it was a good 15 minutes before my heart rate dropped below 100. I was awake like I have rarely been awake in my life. Except for some extra time in the bathroom at the next rest stop, I didn’t experience anymore difficulties with drowsiness. The last 25 % of any marathon undertaking is ‘grit your teeth and get through it” time. All of us were really looking forward to finishing. Mentally and physically worn out, we were all using up the last of our ‘second wind’. Unlike most group activities, our group all get along well, even under adverse circumstances. And when you talk now to all of us who made this trip, everyone is all smiles and tells you about how much fun we had and how cool it was. But on the last 200 mile leg of the trip home, each and every one of us had gritted teeth and not much to say. We just wanted to be done. Home, safe, asleep. When we arrived at the convenience store at the finish, the same woman was working the grave-yard shift. Even she seemed impressed that we had traveled over a thousand miles since she had last seen us in the wee morning hours of this same day, 19 and-a-half hours earlier. The smiles came back. We talked and cross-talked for a few minutes, all of us proud and happy to have done it – even happier to be done with it. Everyone is actually eager, for the first time in almost 20 hours, to get on a motorcycle. Because this time, the next stop is home. There was for me, however, one feeling that stood out above all others, a single focal point that summed up the entire ordeal: My ass hurt. IRON BUTT? I don’t think so….. Oh, and mistake number three? I didn’t take nearly enough pictures, because now that my butt feels better, I realize I had a helluva good time and spent 19 ½ very memorable hours with some incredible friends. A little time to relax – a couple of beers – I might do it again, sometime… Motorcycle Michael Editors Note: What Michael accomplished was a feat beyond measure, his Personnel and Ride circumstances were all very large Obstacles. But he persevered and accomplished a major Milestone in Motorcycling. I don’t quite know how to explain this ride. It was probably the most boring and exciting ride I’ve been on. While the scenery did not change much the thrill of the ride was tense and fast paced (see email George sent out). We rode so hard that some of us could not ride any further. Literally, leaving our bike on the road Until Steve went and got some gas. I’m telling you there was one bike that had so many jackets, chaps and etc. that ten pounds could have made the difference in leaving it on interstate or making the next fuel stop. There is so much to mention on this ride. If not for the CB radio the ride would have been even more boring for me. The radio helped to keep me alert. It was exciting to hear how fast we average, the time we spent on the road, the total time, and of course the banter that was happening from all that had radio’s (is it lunch time yet, are we there yet,). For those of us who were off and would not go (Tina) the crocodile farm and the air boat rides were really wonderful. Steve our local traffic advisor kept us appraised of on coming cars, and trucks. When you have been on the road for ten plus hours your concentration or at least mine was not as sharp as it was the first hour. So thanks a lot Steve. The different bikes that were on the ride, were probably not for that distance. I'm impressed with Sam, Chris, and Michael. George sent out article about fatigue before the ride. I got home and left the key in my motorcycle. Thank goodness it was in the garage, with the door closed. Sunday my iron butt, had rust on it. David ( RUST ) Moody IRON BUTTING My how things change. When George first told me about the leaving time for the Iron Butt Saddle Sore 1000, it seemed reasonable. After all, 11pm isnt that late at night, but it would get us out of town and through the countryside during darkness and (more importantly) less traffic on the interstate. The interstate you say? What in the world are Sandies doing driving on an interstate? Planning for the SS1000 quickly became an exercise in deciding which interstate highway to take, not whether or not to take one. No time for backroad tours on this Sand Dollar outting. I-10 to I-12 to I-10 and we are there. Now then, just where would we be? Winnie Texas. According to my planning it's 517 miles one way. With a total of 1034 miles round trip, it was the perfect destination for a 1000 mile ride. Out and back in less than 24 hours. Easy. Just hit the throttle and go, right? Almost. We had a total of ten Sand Dollars show for the event. That made it perfect for us to get the group discount from the IBA (Iron Butt Association). It makes it a bit cheaper and the club President can certify the final paperwork. Sam was more than happy to do that for us. Thank you to her for her part in all of this. If nothing else she kept George in line, and that, in itself, can sometimes be quite an accomplishment. Not that George needs reigning in now and then but he does come up with some "unique" ideas from time to time. George calls a couple of days before we left and told me it was a no-go for an 11PM leave time. 3AM would be much better he says. Like a dumbie, I say "gee ok" and sign off on the change. Not that George needs me to sign off on anything but I think he needs the positive reinforcement now and then. Just my opinion of course. At 3AM on Saturday the 21st 9 Sandies showed at Tom Thumb number 10 on MLK blvd in Fort Walton Beach. The staff at the Tom Thumb certified the leave time and off we went. The adventure begins. At this time of the morning there is very little traffic, the weather is cool (more on that later) and everyone is fairly fresh, most having had a good sleep before the start. Rolling into Pensacola and up I-110, things became a bit startling as a construction truck was BACKING UP ON THE INTERSTATE either placing cones out or picking them up, didn't matter, the guy was backing up. Some Sandies went left around him, the others went right. I don't know what the heck happened to the cage behind me, I was just happy he stopped when I did. That was one of the rare incidents.to happen on this trip. Onto I-10 we roar, hit high speed and heading west. Life is good, no traffic, good riders and good bikes. Two Tom and Jerry G hit it hard and off they go, leaving the rest of us in the dust. Soon they disappear and we are now seven. Things go well and we pick up Dave (he rode in from Monroeville to join up) at the Mississippi rest area just inside the state. We didn't even stop, he joined in just as if he had practiced the move before. Again we are on the highway and heading west. By this time we are all noticing that it's not just a little chilly out. It's COLD! We start donning our cold weather gear when we make the next stop. At the first gas stop Chris M shows George and the rest of us his "auxilliary gas tank" (it's a plastic one-gallon container), saying he's prepared to go the distance. Our Intrepid Road Captain tells him, " nah, you wont be needing that, we will stop every 132 miles." Putting he can away empty (key word here folks is "empty"), off we go. Somewhere in Louisiana, 110 miles from that stop, Chris's VRod sputters to a stop. Being Tail Gunner I stop with him and tell the rest of the group we will catch up. I hear Tommy N tell George that Sam is now on reserve and they need gas. We are about 20 miles from a group stop. It seems the V Rod just wont go 85 mph for hours on end and make it much past 110 mile on one tank. Loading up Chris and his empty can, we hit the next exit, gas up and go back to his bike. Within minutes we are on the way and join up with the group at the next stop. At this point, let me say that it was not a break down of the bike, it was not the riders fault and it certainly wasn't the Road Captains fault that this happened. Who knew Harley would design a fast bike with no legs? Ah well, a minor incident after all and now we plan 100 mile gas stops. All is well as we roar on into the west. Winnie Texas, other than being just a tad over 500 miles from Fort Walton Beach, really is not a vacation spot. I'm sure the proud Texans who live there will tell you it's a heck of a nice place to live, but I'm pretty sure I wont need reservations to stay at a hotel there anytime soon. Tommy N tells everyone that we are going to Winne to get some pie. Pecan Pie. We never do get any of that pie, but we did eat at the Subway before heading east. Only 517 miles to home! As we leave George behind, ( that's right we left Winnie while the Road Captain was performing an important task, he was loading his CD player for the trip home) the traffic is picking up as it's now mid day. Through the construction zone near Beaumont M2 has to make a slight detour as a highway construction pick up truck makes it into his lane despite the fact M2 was already there. No harm done as M2 deftly swerved into the shoulder space, the guy went on as if nothing happened and we were once more all safe. At the next gas stop we hear George and Tommy on the CB and let them know where we are. Joining up we head Eastbound and homeward. Farther on we meet up with Dave M and Chis M, who had been the first to abandon all semblance of following George. Nothing remarkable about the trip to this point, other than a couple of very minor incidents. Just as we near the area where Chris M ran out of gas, M2 now pulls over. George and the group keep going as two of us check to see the problem with M2. Low oil light. Seems that his FZ1 turns 6000 rpm at the speed we had been traveling and burned some oil. Perfectly normal, but kind of unexpected. We hit the next exit and M2 buys a quart of oil, pours in THREE OUNCES and off we go. Catching up with the others we have a quick bite to eat. MacDonalds works just fine for fast food at this point. Only a few hours from home now, eight tired and sore Sandies head out. One more fuel stop for some and we will be home in plenty of time. Going through the tunnel in Mobile, I was sorely pressed to honk my air horn. But being a good guy and all, I didn't. George thanked me. By this time we all are pretty tired but, surprisingly, alert and aware. Normally at this point of a long day you get easily distracted and find your mind wandering. OK I know some of us have wandering minds anyway, but this is diff--Hey did you see that Ghost Rider is out on DVD? Gulf Breeze was the last pit stop for those with short legs on their bikes. The rest of us continued to Fort Walton Beach and filled up at the Tom Thumb number 10, right where we started from. Once again, the staff was happy to see us back and signed off on our paperwork. The staff also told us that Two Tom and Jerry G had been back at 9:30. An hour and a half before us. Unfortunately, they also told us that Two Tom had lost his wallet and all of it's contents somewhere in Louisiana. Jerry G graciously paid for the two of them for the rest of the trip. See? Sandies take care of each other, on the road this is an important thing. Stuck 500 miles from home, no credit cards, no cash and no drivers license can be quite stressful. 19 and one half hours from starting we had completed the IBA SS1000. Was it fun? Yes indeed. Was it stressful? Yes indeed. Was it challenging? Yes indeed. Would I do it again? Nope, but there is the Bun Burner 1500 to consider. If you have a choice doing the SS1000 then I recommend a small group of travelers. We had eight at most of the time. That many slows things down considerably. It takes longer to gas up, longer to eat and with more people, the more likely incidents will happen. Even with the expert group we had assembled, the gas pumps and waitress' were slowed down by the number of people wanting the same thing at the same time. Perhaps three or even two in a group with a common start/stop place would work much better. As I reflect on that trip, I marvel at the fact that ten bikes, ten riders went a thousand miles each, that's a total of 10,000 miles with no major incidents, no injuries and everyone on every ride made it back safe and sound. A testament to good preparation, excellent bike designs and excellent rider skills. A job well done by the Sand Dollars. George, Sam, Jerry G, Two Tom, Steve G, Chris M, M2, Dennis H, Dave M, Tommy N. Well done by all! Did we have fun? Yes indeed. Did you miss a good time? Yes indeed. SpectreSteve It was a great journey. Some apprehension as we gathered for the departure, but the group was the best as they talked about how we would stay together to help in the event something happened. That is just how Sandies are. The whole trip was a basic ride for us, with a couple of u-turns (a Sandie tradition) and only a couple of minor incidents leaving no one behind. This event shows that all we do in practice helps in the daily riding and improves our ability to deal with minor issues on the road. The small traffic issues that included a car running off the inside shoulder and crossing our path to the outside shoulder to stop and recover, to the merging traffic trying to push Michael to the inside edge of the road, we were able to handle these with no panic and continue our ride without incident. I would like to compliment all of our members, even those who didn't do this ride, for their dedication to improving their skills and making riding safer for all of us. We definitely ride with the best. Just a few thoughts about why I consider riding with the Sandies the best part of riding a motorcycle. It really makes it a better ride. Dennis (Iceman) Hamby The Thousand Two O’clock in the morning the alarm went off. Normally that would be OK as I could go back to sleep for a few hours more, but not tonight and anyway I have been up since twelve. I initially went to bed at ten, with the bike packed and ready to go on the Sanddollar Saddle Sore, 1000 miles in 24 hours trip. So with two hours of sleep I trudged to the shower and then scarfed down a banana and breakfast drink. Got on the bike and proceeded to navigate my way down to the Tom Thumb on Freedom Way. Got there around 0245 to get my first gas receipt and see what fools actually got up to do this ride. As George often says that Sanddollars are not the sharpest spoons in the drawer what I seen at the Tom Thumb were eight people, me being number nine, (number ten will come in the picture later) who had trouble even seeing what was in the drawer let alone sharpen any spoons. Knowing that I had the smallest gas tank I pulled out my “reserve” one gallon tank that I had stored in my saddlebag. George being the great road captain he is looked at me and laughed saying he would ensure that I would not need that as he had scheduled stops with some room to spare. Of course he said this after he shouted, “Damn Mitchell, you just made me lose a bet,” alluding that I was not showing up. Strike one for old Engler. Well we get the paperwork for the start completed and off we go. Now for I am beginning to feel tired and I think to myself, “There is no real shame if I just say I can’t do this right now and go home.” I kept thinking this all the way down 98 to Pensacola and on to 110, which is like driving the Gauntlet in some auto video game with hazards all over the road. I convince myself to try to make it to at least daylight and then see how I feel. Getting onto I10 caused another shock which woke me up pretty fast…cold. It was very cold to say the least. Here is where Jerry “Possum” and Tom took off and left the rest of the group. We stopped for gas at about 130 miles and then started off again. George must have had that video game in his mind as we now sped down I10 through the rest of Alabama and into Mississippi at over 85 miles an hour for 110 miles, picking up our tenth rider as we drove through the first Mississippi rest stop in the form of David from Monroeville on what another Haverty Couch, I looked down the row of bikes and it looked like a couch sale from Haverty’s traveling down I10. Of all ten riders only myself, Sam on her VStar, and Mike M on his sport bike was not on a moving lounge chair. I almost thought that I saw one of them pour coffee from a coffee maker on the dash of his two wheel automobile. Well we kept proceeding down I10 at break neck pace at wayyyyyyyyy above the posted speed limit, not that that would normally be an issue. But then I heard, ok rather felt a sputter in the VRod (not a couch, heck not even a lounge chair, more like an outdoor bench on wheels). Yes you that already know I ran out of gas on I10. Now with Steve being behind me he stopped and yes I had to ride b………….backseat on his Valkyrie. No wonder he wears earplugs, that bike is too loud, and that is saying something as I ride a Harley. Me with my one gallon gas can riding as a passenger probably was not a pretty site. Well we got the VRod back in operation and finally met up with the rest of the Sandies at the next programmed stop. Here I found out that Sam had had to switch to her reserve tank. Now I don’t feel so bad. Well we finally came through Louisiana and into Texas. In Texas the wind picked up so bad that it felt like I was wrestling a Texas Longhorn with the solid wheels on my bike. We finally made it to Winnie Texas and ate lunch and then started back. When we got into the Eastern end of Louisiana I was hit by the sleep monster once again. With about 250 miles to go I started really dragging. It was starting to get dark and now I really questioned myself if this ride was really what I wanted to do. I debated my options and decided to try to keep going on being so close (a close 250 miles being relative when talking 1000 miles). After putting on a jacket and reflective vest and eating a Snickers Energy bar and a Starbucks double shot espresso I left with the group heading east. Another double shot at the next stop and I was actually wired for sound at this point. Mike M had a bit of trouble with his bike and now we have the second bike stopped on I10. He had to get some oil and then he was back on the road. Probably the worst part of this ride (OK actually the whole ride was some of the worst times on a bike I have ever had) was going from Biloxi to Pensacola on I10 at 8:30 at night at 85 miles an hour weaving in and out of traffic. We finally pulled into the initial starting point and I was never so glad to be through with a ride than I felt then. The things that helped me on this torture was the back belt I wore, the bicycle riding shorts with gel pads, and the earplugs I got from Steve G. I will never, repeat never, do something as stupid as volunteer for another Saddle Sore 1000 miler on a VRod again. Now when is that Sanddollar Iron Butt 1500 scheduled for? Chris (The Mitchell) Mitchell Editors Note: What Chris did was well beyond the Norm, his Ride was not equipped for such an epic journey. It is a testament to Chris, the person, that he made it.

Editorial Note: this article was first published in January 2006. By Tim W. Over a year ago I sat down with a wild idea and an Alabama map to lay out an all Alabama grand tour. Sounded like a great idea to me at the time. I was able to map out the grand tour letters and put together a pretty nice loop through lower Alabama. Unfortunately the best laid plans are always derailed by other higher commitments, so the route and map got filed under a ton of useless paperwork like mortgages, bills, life insurance policies, etc. Last month the family and I were looking at a calendar and discovered that the planets were in some sort of cosmic alignment resulting in the convergence of elementary school days off, civil service holiday and scheduled days off, and suddenly we had the opportunity for a four day weekend September 2 through 5. Of course Sean, my eight year old, put his bid in for Wild Adventures Amusement park in Valdosta Georgia. Maricetta, the wife, put in her vote for Tampa and Busch Gardens. I put my vote in for four days of relaxing on the couch with the rest of the family gone to either Wild Adventures or Busch Gardens. Like I would ever get a vote. As the long weekend grew closer the bidding became more intense. Finally it appeared the eight year old with all the energy had worn down the queen and the bus driver, me. Wild Adventures was the destination. Unfortunately we forget to include that bitch named Katrina in the voting. Like an unwelcome relative, Katrina visited the gulf coast and made a mess of everyone’s best-laid plans. Suddenly there were no hotel rooms in a 300-mile radius. Stories of gas shortages threatened any road trip to Georgia. We decided to stay close to home rather than risk problems on the road. So Friday morning 2 September we went ahead and dropped Sean off at school. (Don’t tell anyone we were going to keep him out to make the four day weekend) Suddenly it’s 8:30 and we are without plans for the day. Then I remembered the long ago mapped out grand tour – Carpe Diem! I said to Maricetta, “How about a nice motorcycle ride.” I grabbed the map and we headed out. Our first stop, Joe and Eddies of course. No self respecting Sandie is going to start a trip without breakfast at Joe and Eddies. The breakfast was great as usual, and bittersweet. They closed to begin their remodel just three days later. Once fueled with food, we headed North into Alabama about 9:00. I did not exactly give Maricetta the details or projected distance of the “nice” motorcycle ride. Which ultimately broke a 350 mile day. S-A-N-D-O-L-L-A-R M-C, eleven letters, no problem – got them all mapped out. Make a note, just because it’s on a map doesn’t necessarily mean there’s a town there, or a sign, or a city hall, or a fire department……….. you get the picture. Stop number 1 Dixie, East of Brewton at the junction of Hwy 11 and 15. Note smile on pillion warmers face, it’s still early in the day. Stop number 2 Carolina, South of Andalusia at the junction of Hwy 29, 15 & 31. Stop 3 Andalusia, hwy 29. What a neat town. We are going to buzz up there some Friday evening and hit the old picture show and a restaurant. Stop 4 Libertyville, South of Andalusia on hwy 55. Blink and you will miss it, like many of the small towns in Alabama. Yes, they really do have a City Hall. Stop 5 Red Oak, North of Lockhart on Hwy 55. Stop number 6 Onycha, South of Opp on Hwy 331. I’m not making up these names. They have both a City Hall and a fire Dept. Stop 7 New Brockton, North of Enterprise on Hwy 84. Is that a great picture or what!! Stop 8 Avon, East of Dothan on Hwy 84. We are far, far from the hood. Stop 9 Was to be Lytle on Hwy 52. When you lay out this route Mapquest shows you three little towns in a row, within 20 miles of each other that work beautifully for the grand tour. Lytle – Marl – Samson. Unfortunately we could not find a single sign, building, church, outhouse or anything in Lytle. It does not exist in reality. Stop 9 was to be Lytle on September 2, but we had to go back to Lockhart, on the 4th to get a photo. Lesson for anyone else planning a grand tour – don’t pass up a letter, even if it’s not in your originally planned route. Stop 10 Marl, just a mile from the nonexistent Lytle on Hwy 52. You can’t miss it. And yes, that sign IS the only thing there. Stop 11 Sampson, Junction of Hwy 52 and 87. As you can tell by the Sampson picture, the sun was setting and we had to head home. It had been a fabulous day of back roads and very little traffic, except passing through Enterprise and Dothan. Made it back home without a hitch. A great 350 mile day, only used a tank and a quarter of gas. Another Sandollar trip in the history books. What’s next? Where’s that Georgia map? Ride safe, ride often. Tim & Maricetta W.

Editorial Note: This article was first published in July 2005. By Doug M. We, my best friend and wife of 35 years and I, decided after a couple of recent incidents including a blowout at 60 miles an hour, a loss of power to the headlight at night and the failure of the final drive coupling on our 23 year old V45 Magna, that it might be in our best interest not to stray too far from our home territory, thus the Grand Tour (A short version). Waking up to a beautiful Saturday morning, having survived Friday the 13th, we agreed this was the day to go. We headed out of Niceville about 8:30 AM and headed North on Hwy 285 for our first letter in Mossy Head, then proceeded East on Hwy 90 to pick up D,A,and C in Defuniak Springs, Argyle and Caryville. After back tracking to Westville we found 181 North and Headed for Leonia and a quick stop at the local gas station (yep, they’re still as friendly as ever) we picked up our first L. Leaving Leonia we headed for Samson (S) on our way to the Piney Grove Superstore, about five miles north of Sampson, for a much needed lunch and butt break. An iron butt we ain't. After an enjoyable deli lunch with good company we proceeded north on Hwy 87 toward New Brockton to collect a much need N. Successful in our quest, we headed west on Hwy 84 to the city of opportunity, Opp , and our O. Continuing west on Hwy 84, we snatched up our second A then made a quick right turn onto Hwy 29 followed by a quick left turn onto CR 82 (ok, there were a few miles between turns) on our way to Red Level. After catching a few curious looks from passing citizens we decided to depart the grassy knoll at the Red Level welcome sign in quest of our second L, and our final letter . Lockhart Alabama gave us just what we needed and we headed for home. The weather was great, the people were friendly, the country side looked and smelled fresh, creating an all around excellent experience covering 257 miles.