This year, having been stood up by my usual Canadian contingent (sniff), I was free to depart a day earlier than usual, on Tuesday. In order to minimize the tremendous mileage I’ve been piling onto our car (commuting to my job in Youngstown, Ohio), I was making the trip on my recently-purchased 2001 Triumph Sprint ST. Packing a bike is kind of like watching a reversed video of the circus gag with 50 clowns getting out of a tiny car — you see an amazing amount of stuff going into an impossibly small space. I filled both of the panniers and a tank bag with computer gear, cameras, lenses and clothing, then stuffed the tent and other camping supplies into my hiking pack, which I then bungeed onto the pillion seat of the bike. Ready to roll!
I got rained on a little in West Virginia but the Triumph’s fairing did a fine job of keeping most of it off me. My main problem was staying warm — I was getting cold enough to make hypothermia a real concern because my ventilated summer riding jacket was working too well and I’d left the waterproof/windproof liner home to save space. I stopped for lunch to dry out and came up with the idea of putting on a Gore-Tex shell, which I’d brought for hiking, under my jacket. It worked brilliantly, keeping me reasonably warm and dry through the intermittent showers and demonstrating one of the keys to packing well for motorcycle travel: Pack items that can perform multiple jobs.
Upon crossing the state line into North Carolina, the gray skies turned blue and clear. I hoped this would be a good omen for the week. The roads here have the potential to be fabulously fun on a sporty motorcycle, but my relative unfamiliarity with the new (to me) bike, the extra weight of all the gear I had loaded on it and my growing fatigue conspired to make me set a relatively conservative pace. Curse you, evil spectres of maturity and responsibility! I went to my usual stopover point in Ashe County, NC, where my friends have a vacation cabin. This year as a bonus they were there in person so we had a nice time chatting, drinking wine, etc on Tuesday evening.
All the rain arrived on Wednesday for my ride to the mountain. The Gore-Tex shell and my hiking rain gear kept me mostly dry, but the rain soaked through my gloves and boots (which are racing gear, made for crash protection, not weather protection). I arrived at the Grandfather Mountain offices where everyone was welcoming and friendly, despite my dripping black water all over their nice clean floor. The water was black, you see, because the black dye in my gloves was running, with the added benefit of making my hands look as if I was suffering from some bizarre tropical skin disease.
None the less, I had arrived at Grandfather Mountain, ready to begin the adventure of another Nature Photography Weekend.
