bajakirch
Crotch Rocket
Since the annual fall wrenching session was canceled last month, the 18th Annual Hunt for Red October was my first official event as a member of the Concours Owners Group. I'd been anxious to meet some of the other COGers, because I've heard so much about how fun and friendly the group is. After all, "Join for the bike, stay for the people", right?
Much earlier in the week, the forecast was for rain...lots of rain. But I never give long-range forecasting much heed; they're wrong most of the time. Well, wouldn't you know -- they nailed this one. I got up Saturday morning to gray skies, temps in the 40s and rain, rain, rain. Oh well, that's why I have rain gear.
I finished packing up the bike and hit the road by 9:00 a.m.
This is, as I understand it, one of the bigger rides of the year for COG's North Central District. People were converging from Chicago, Milwaukee and Minnesota to ride the roads of southwestern Wisconsin. As luck would have it, the group traveling from the south was coming right through my area, so I chose to meet up with them at the ferry crossing in Merrimac.
On the way I stopped in the community of Sauk City to gas up, get some cash and throw some Seafoam into my tank. The gas stop was just up the road from a good-sized Harley dealership that's always busy. I had a hunch, so I took a spin by the place. Sure enough:
I continued along Highway 78 to Merrimac. By this point, the rain was really coming down. I parked the bike, awaiting the north-bound group of riders. Rather than stand out in the rain, I took shelter in the only nearby spot with an overhang...the public restroom. I settled in, ignoring the stares of passers-by, realizing that lurking outside a public bathroom made me look like an A-Class creeper.
The meet-up time was 10:00 a.m. By 10:30 I was getting concerned I'd missed the group or they'd canceled the ride. But with weather conditions being what they were, I decided to wait until 11:00. If no one showed, I'd make my own way to the meeting point in Sparta for lunch.
At 10:45, a group of 3 bikes rolled off the ferry and pulled up in front of the restrooms. 'At last!' I thought...then I noticed that the group consisted of a Triumph Sprint, a Honda CBR Blackbird and a KTM supermoto. Drat. Just another group of bikers crazy enough to be out in this weather.
Then they introduced themselves. It was the COG group after all. As I learned later, many COG members haven't ridden a Concours in years.
I met Dave (Triumph), the ride organizer, as well as Jake (Blackbird) and Matt (KTM). It turns out that, in addition to the weather, they'd had some mechanical issues with Dave's bike, which caused the delay. Dave got on the phone to arrange for a replacement bike. Then we hit the road.
Dave's route to the meeting point in Sparta took me through some familiar territory. But he cut off on some roads I didn't know about, and they were great for riding. There's a particular route through Devil's Lake State Park, a park I've visited and camped at probably a dozen times over the years, that was great -- a serpentine twist up the hillside -- and I never knew it existed. I'll be back to check that out again. It'll be even more fun without a layer of wet leaves covering the road.
Dave peeled off about 20 miles south of Sparta, and the rest of us continued on to the meet-point. Just before 1:00 we arrived at the Sparta Family Restaurant. We were running late, so I was somewhat surprised to see a fair number of bikes still in the lot.
We tromped into the restaurant in our wet riding gear and found the back of the restaurant pretty much taken over by riders in various states of drying-out. Would I like coffee? Not just yes, but HELL YES!
I ordered up a quick lunch and wolfed it down, as others were already starting to get ready to take off.
With warm food and coffee in our bellies, we got geared up for an afternoon of wet riding.
Jake and Matt were going to hook back up with Dave, who had stopped by his brother's place in Coon Valley to pick up a spare bike (an NT700V). I decided to attach myself to a group of riders from Minnesota who planned to take a route that looked promising. After gearing and gassing up, we grouped up in the parking lot. We left the lot...and that's the last I saw of them.
What happened was this. I again took the tail spot. Turning out of the parking lot I got separated from the group by a couple of vehicles. This caused me to get caught at the light on Hwy 27. By the time the light changed I'd lost sight of the group. I came over a hill and had the choice of continuing straight or jumping onto the Interstate. I could see about a half-mile up the road in front of me and didn't see any tail lights. So I chose the Interstate.
I chose wrong. After about 5 minutes of doing 90+ on the I, I realized I had picked the wrong route. By that point I knew I was going to be making my own ride. I pulled off at the next exit, checked the ride route maps and planned my own course to the end-of-ride meeting point in Dodgeville.
So I literally rode my own ride. This allowed me to ride at speeds I was comfortable with and stop when I wanted to stop. That actually made it more comfortable for me and I really enjoyed it.
The rain had pretty much stopped and now it was just wet roads, occasional drizzle and lots of fog. In the midst of one of those fog banks I came into the community of Hillsboro. This is Amish country, and there must have been something going on downtown, as it was lined with Amish buggies.
I continued to wend my way southwards, taking no particular route. But my path did cross all of the 3 planned routes, so I thought there might be a chance of seeing some other riders. As I swung through downtown Reedsburg I finally saw a familiar sight -- the unmistakeable Samsonite-style luggage of a Concours. It was parked and the rider was just mounting up. I gave him a toot of the horn and a wave, and continued on my nebulous route.
By about 4:00 my Ibuprofen was starting to wear off and my back, neck and knee were starting to ache. It was time to stop traipsing about and choose a more direct path to Dodgeville. I then remembered a discussion I'd had with a co-worker, who told me about a stretch of road I had somehow overlooked in my travels. Hwy 130 south of the Wisconsin River is apparently a great road with lots of twists. And it so happened that the very section he told me about was almost a direct line to Dodgeville. Fate!
I tried the road and it was indeed a good one, with a great set of twisties coming out of the river valley. Then it was onto Hwy 23 for the final 6 miles to Ride Central.
The meeting point was the Don Q Inn just outside of Dodgeville.
I understand the group's been using this as the HFRO destination for at least 10 years. It's easy to see why. It's located in the midst of what is arguably the best riding in the entire state. It's got a great quirky nature, and even has a number of 'Fantasy Suite Theme Rooms' (Cupid's Corner, anyone?). And, of course, it has the plane.
This is a Boeing C-97 Stratofreighter they landed and transported here as a tourist attraction. You can read more about the Don Q and the plane here.
So, I try to be accepting. I try not to judge people by their choice of ride. I try not to stereotype or paint with too broad a brush. And then, after seeing all the wet, muddy sport-touring bikes accumulated in the parking lot, I walk up to the Don Q entrance and find this:
Off I go into the Don Q and I'm met with what is a bizarre and wholly welcome sight to someone that's just spent the day riding in the wet.
I set up shop in a barber chair, stoked the fire a bit, and waited for people to accumulate. Eventually the chairs filled up and the time for dinner approached.
Even though the Don Q is only about 20 miles from my house, I'd never been inside it. So around each corner was a new treat. Like the tunnel that you use to get from the inn to the restaurant/lounge.
At 7:00 we made our way over to the restaurant for the COG dinner.
Chicken and ribs were the meats of choice. Having subjected myself to lots of banquet fare over the years, my hopes weren't high. But I have to say that the folks at the Don Q (Sam & Maddie's, actually) did themselves proud. The ribs were falling off the bone, the chicken was well-seasoned and moist, and the garlic potatoes were delicious.
Over the meal I got to know more about my fellow COGers.
I was suitably impressed with the experience in the group. Many had been riding for decades. Iron Butts were commonplace; I felt a little sheepish talking about the 3-day ride around Lake Michigan I'm planning for next year after hearing several had done the route in 24 hours. But they were all accepting of my relative inexperience, and welcomed me warmly into the group.
After dessert was served (excellent brownies with vanilla ice cream), it was time for door prizes. Dave was the ride organizer and took on the responsibility of awarding the prizes.
Everything from fleece jackets to maintenance items were up for grabs, and there was a lot of it. I don't think anyone left the room without something in hand.
Once dinner and the prize-giving was over it was almost 8:30. I would have liked to stay and hoist a few glasses with my new comrades. But I lived so close that I really couldn't justify spending $85 on a room when my own bed was 20 miles away. So I bid everyone farewell and geared up for the ride home.
When I walked out to the bike I had a surprise in store. While we had been eating and carrying on, the temperature outside had been steadily rising. By the time I took off the temperature was in the mid-60s. I was really starting to feel the quilted liner I'd put in my jacket. But with just a short ride ahead of me, I chose to leave it in. Morning ride temps are getting down into the 30s so I'm sure I'll need it before long.
Here I'll interject a quick gear report. This was the first ride I've done with all my 'waterproof' gear in place. This includes a Weise Dynastar jacket (picked up from a guy that bought it in Europe to ride around Ireland, then never used it again), Fieldsheer riding pants, Alpinestar Drystar gloves and Bilt Typhoon boots. I have to say that, even with the rain coming down heavily at times, I stayed very dry. Of course, the Connie has excellent wind protection, and this undoubtedly helped. I'm confident I could ride through a full day of rain in relative comfort with the gear I currently have.
I arrived home tired but happy. I sat on the couch and regaled my wife and son with my tales of daring-do...for about 20 minutes. Then I could barely keep my eyes open. I fell into bed with fond memories of a great ride (somewhat literally) swimming in my head.
Much earlier in the week, the forecast was for rain...lots of rain. But I never give long-range forecasting much heed; they're wrong most of the time. Well, wouldn't you know -- they nailed this one. I got up Saturday morning to gray skies, temps in the 40s and rain, rain, rain. Oh well, that's why I have rain gear.
I finished packing up the bike and hit the road by 9:00 a.m.
This is, as I understand it, one of the bigger rides of the year for COG's North Central District. People were converging from Chicago, Milwaukee and Minnesota to ride the roads of southwestern Wisconsin. As luck would have it, the group traveling from the south was coming right through my area, so I chose to meet up with them at the ferry crossing in Merrimac.
On the way I stopped in the community of Sauk City to gas up, get some cash and throw some Seafoam into my tank. The gas stop was just up the road from a good-sized Harley dealership that's always busy. I had a hunch, so I took a spin by the place. Sure enough:
NOTE TO SELF: 1. Invent waterproof bandanna and black t-shirt. 2. Retire to sunny tropical beach.
I continued along Highway 78 to Merrimac. By this point, the rain was really coming down. I parked the bike, awaiting the north-bound group of riders. Rather than stand out in the rain, I took shelter in the only nearby spot with an overhang...the public restroom. I settled in, ignoring the stares of passers-by, realizing that lurking outside a public bathroom made me look like an A-Class creeper.
The meet-up time was 10:00 a.m. By 10:30 I was getting concerned I'd missed the group or they'd canceled the ride. But with weather conditions being what they were, I decided to wait until 11:00. If no one showed, I'd make my own way to the meeting point in Sparta for lunch.
At 10:45, a group of 3 bikes rolled off the ferry and pulled up in front of the restrooms. 'At last!' I thought...then I noticed that the group consisted of a Triumph Sprint, a Honda CBR Blackbird and a KTM supermoto. Drat. Just another group of bikers crazy enough to be out in this weather.
Then they introduced themselves. It was the COG group after all. As I learned later, many COG members haven't ridden a Concours in years.
Uh, this is the COG ride, right?
I met Dave (Triumph), the ride organizer, as well as Jake (Blackbird) and Matt (KTM). It turns out that, in addition to the weather, they'd had some mechanical issues with Dave's bike, which caused the delay. Dave got on the phone to arrange for a replacement bike. Then we hit the road.
Dave's route to the meeting point in Sparta took me through some familiar territory. But he cut off on some roads I didn't know about, and they were great for riding. There's a particular route through Devil's Lake State Park, a park I've visited and camped at probably a dozen times over the years, that was great -- a serpentine twist up the hillside -- and I never knew it existed. I'll be back to check that out again. It'll be even more fun without a layer of wet leaves covering the road.
Dave peeled off about 20 miles south of Sparta, and the rest of us continued on to the meet-point. Just before 1:00 we arrived at the Sparta Family Restaurant. We were running late, so I was somewhat surprised to see a fair number of bikes still in the lot.
Feejer, Feejer, Feejer, Beemer, Feezer...Hey boys! Where all the Connies at?
We tromped into the restaurant in our wet riding gear and found the back of the restaurant pretty much taken over by riders in various states of drying-out. Would I like coffee? Not just yes, but HELL YES!
I ordered up a quick lunch and wolfed it down, as others were already starting to get ready to take off.
My definition of a quick lunch. No wonder my riding pants are getting tighter.
With warm food and coffee in our bellies, we got geared up for an afternoon of wet riding.
Layers. It's all about layers.
Jake and Matt were going to hook back up with Dave, who had stopped by his brother's place in Coon Valley to pick up a spare bike (an NT700V). I decided to attach myself to a group of riders from Minnesota who planned to take a route that looked promising. After gearing and gassing up, we grouped up in the parking lot. We left the lot...and that's the last I saw of them.
What happened was this. I again took the tail spot. Turning out of the parking lot I got separated from the group by a couple of vehicles. This caused me to get caught at the light on Hwy 27. By the time the light changed I'd lost sight of the group. I came over a hill and had the choice of continuing straight or jumping onto the Interstate. I could see about a half-mile up the road in front of me and didn't see any tail lights. So I chose the Interstate.
I chose wrong. After about 5 minutes of doing 90+ on the I, I realized I had picked the wrong route. By that point I knew I was going to be making my own ride. I pulled off at the next exit, checked the ride route maps and planned my own course to the end-of-ride meeting point in Dodgeville.
So I literally rode my own ride. This allowed me to ride at speeds I was comfortable with and stop when I wanted to stop. That actually made it more comfortable for me and I really enjoyed it.
The rain had pretty much stopped and now it was just wet roads, occasional drizzle and lots of fog. In the midst of one of those fog banks I came into the community of Hillsboro. This is Amish country, and there must have been something going on downtown, as it was lined with Amish buggies.
Anyone seen Harrison Ford or Kelly McGillis?
I continued to wend my way southwards, taking no particular route. But my path did cross all of the 3 planned routes, so I thought there might be a chance of seeing some other riders. As I swung through downtown Reedsburg I finally saw a familiar sight -- the unmistakeable Samsonite-style luggage of a Concours. It was parked and the rider was just mounting up. I gave him a toot of the horn and a wave, and continued on my nebulous route.
By about 4:00 my Ibuprofen was starting to wear off and my back, neck and knee were starting to ache. It was time to stop traipsing about and choose a more direct path to Dodgeville. I then remembered a discussion I'd had with a co-worker, who told me about a stretch of road I had somehow overlooked in my travels. Hwy 130 south of the Wisconsin River is apparently a great road with lots of twists. And it so happened that the very section he told me about was almost a direct line to Dodgeville. Fate!
I tried the road and it was indeed a good one, with a great set of twisties coming out of the river valley. Then it was onto Hwy 23 for the final 6 miles to Ride Central.
The meeting point was the Don Q Inn just outside of Dodgeville.
Sport touring at its finest.
I understand the group's been using this as the HFRO destination for at least 10 years. It's easy to see why. It's located in the midst of what is arguably the best riding in the entire state. It's got a great quirky nature, and even has a number of 'Fantasy Suite Theme Rooms' (Cupid's Corner, anyone?). And, of course, it has the plane.
Connies, cleared for landing.
Slightly less complicated than a BMW's dashboard.
This is a Boeing C-97 Stratofreighter they landed and transported here as a tourist attraction. You can read more about the Don Q and the plane here.
So, I try to be accepting. I try not to judge people by their choice of ride. I try not to stereotype or paint with too broad a brush. And then, after seeing all the wet, muddy sport-touring bikes accumulated in the parking lot, I walk up to the Don Q entrance and find this:
Seriously...the punch line writes itself.
Off I go into the Don Q and I'm met with what is a bizarre and wholly welcome sight to someone that's just spent the day riding in the wet.
I mentioned the place was quirky, right?
I set up shop in a barber chair, stoked the fire a bit, and waited for people to accumulate. Eventually the chairs filled up and the time for dinner approached.
Even though the Don Q is only about 20 miles from my house, I'd never been inside it. So around each corner was a new treat. Like the tunnel that you use to get from the inn to the restaurant/lounge.
Take a wrong turn and you find the Batcave.
At 7:00 we made our way over to the restaurant for the COG dinner.
Welcome chow after a long day of riding.
Chicken and ribs were the meats of choice. Having subjected myself to lots of banquet fare over the years, my hopes weren't high. But I have to say that the folks at the Don Q (Sam & Maddie's, actually) did themselves proud. The ribs were falling off the bone, the chicken was well-seasoned and moist, and the garlic potatoes were delicious.
Today we will ride places...and we will eat things. Lots of things.
Over the meal I got to know more about my fellow COGers.
The motley crew.
I was suitably impressed with the experience in the group. Many had been riding for decades. Iron Butts were commonplace; I felt a little sheepish talking about the 3-day ride around Lake Michigan I'm planning for next year after hearing several had done the route in 24 hours. But they were all accepting of my relative inexperience, and welcomed me warmly into the group.
After dessert was served (excellent brownies with vanilla ice cream), it was time for door prizes. Dave was the ride organizer and took on the responsibility of awarding the prizes.
Our fearless leader.
Everything from fleece jackets to maintenance items were up for grabs, and there was a lot of it. I don't think anyone left the room without something in hand.
My swag.
Once dinner and the prize-giving was over it was almost 8:30. I would have liked to stay and hoist a few glasses with my new comrades. But I lived so close that I really couldn't justify spending $85 on a room when my own bed was 20 miles away. So I bid everyone farewell and geared up for the ride home.
When I walked out to the bike I had a surprise in store. While we had been eating and carrying on, the temperature outside had been steadily rising. By the time I took off the temperature was in the mid-60s. I was really starting to feel the quilted liner I'd put in my jacket. But with just a short ride ahead of me, I chose to leave it in. Morning ride temps are getting down into the 30s so I'm sure I'll need it before long.
Here I'll interject a quick gear report. This was the first ride I've done with all my 'waterproof' gear in place. This includes a Weise Dynastar jacket (picked up from a guy that bought it in Europe to ride around Ireland, then never used it again), Fieldsheer riding pants, Alpinestar Drystar gloves and Bilt Typhoon boots. I have to say that, even with the rain coming down heavily at times, I stayed very dry. Of course, the Connie has excellent wind protection, and this undoubtedly helped. I'm confident I could ride through a full day of rain in relative comfort with the gear I currently have.
I arrived home tired but happy. I sat on the couch and regaled my wife and son with my tales of daring-do...for about 20 minutes. Then I could barely keep my eyes open. I fell into bed with fond memories of a great ride (somewhat literally) swimming in my head.
