Tennessee on the GoldWing
We were lucky with our years of riding. There was never an accident. Though we did "lay it down" at least twice that I remember. The worst was while we were on vacation in Tennessee and wanted to stop to shop. The entrance to the store was on a steep incline with a sharp right turn at the bottom. The bike slid over on it's right side. I don't know just what happened to cause it. I do know your instinct is to put your leg out to catch yourself and I had enough sense to resist. Even though it was my first experience, and it happened unexpectedly, I realized I'd probably break my leg if I didn't just sit tight and count on the foot rest and my arm rest to keep me protected. I just tucked myself in tight and rode it out. It wasn't what you could really call a crash, just a slow motion over on it's side. All the way down. We were both fine. Even the GoldWing survived without a scratch. But, it was a struggle to get that vacation loaded GoldWing back upright.
The only other time I remember it going over, I was all alone on the bike. Bear had backed out of the shed and got back off to shut the door. He set the kickstand, but it sank into the ground, and over I went. After that, I never got on till he was ready to leave.
On that trip to Tennessee, I got the worst soaking I ever rode in. We'd been at Opryland all day, and it was getting dark when we left. Our motel room was in another town, and we were on a four lane highway when it started to rain. We were stuck in stop and go road construction with one lane and concrete barriers restricting anyway to pull over for our wetsuits, which were in the saddlebags. It was bumper to bumper traffic and we had no choice but to ride in a night time, cold soaking rain that never let up. I've never been so miserable. I remember wondering if the vehicle behind us was laughing or felt sympathy. They followed us for almost an hour through that construction area. That storm must have been going the same way we were.
When we finally reached our motel, I discovered it had even soaked through our water proof bags and we didn't even have any dry clothes to change into. We spread out our wet packed clothes in the room, turned up the heat and went back out in the rain to find something to eat.
The nearest restaurant was just down the street. When we walked in, they stopped us. Suddenly we were the center of attention. Standing in our puddles of water and dripping like saturated sponges, they didn't want to give us a table. But, they didn't want to send us back out in the weather either. They made us wait in the entrance till they brought towells and patted us down. It took a whole lot of towells and a lot of laughter on the part of the waitresses, but they finally decided we were fit to be allowed to sit in one of their booths. Still wrapped up with a towell around my shoulders for warmth, they gave me hot tea and Bear hot coffee right away. And, they served us with a lot of attention and laughter at the steam still rising from our drowned bodies.
Then they sent us back out into a storm that was still raging. That was also my last long trip on the GoldWing.
The only other time I remember it going over, I was all alone on the bike. Bear had backed out of the shed and got back off to shut the door. He set the kickstand, but it sank into the ground, and over I went. After that, I never got on till he was ready to leave.
On that trip to Tennessee, I got the worst soaking I ever rode in. We'd been at Opryland all day, and it was getting dark when we left. Our motel room was in another town, and we were on a four lane highway when it started to rain. We were stuck in stop and go road construction with one lane and concrete barriers restricting anyway to pull over for our wetsuits, which were in the saddlebags. It was bumper to bumper traffic and we had no choice but to ride in a night time, cold soaking rain that never let up. I've never been so miserable. I remember wondering if the vehicle behind us was laughing or felt sympathy. They followed us for almost an hour through that construction area. That storm must have been going the same way we were.
When we finally reached our motel, I discovered it had even soaked through our water proof bags and we didn't even have any dry clothes to change into. We spread out our wet packed clothes in the room, turned up the heat and went back out in the rain to find something to eat.
The nearest restaurant was just down the street. When we walked in, they stopped us. Suddenly we were the center of attention. Standing in our puddles of water and dripping like saturated sponges, they didn't want to give us a table. But, they didn't want to send us back out in the weather either. They made us wait in the entrance till they brought towells and patted us down. It took a whole lot of towells and a lot of laughter on the part of the waitresses, but they finally decided we were fit to be allowed to sit in one of their booths. Still wrapped up with a towell around my shoulders for warmth, they gave me hot tea and Bear hot coffee right away. And, they served us with a lot of attention and laughter at the steam still rising from our drowned bodies.
Then they sent us back out into a storm that was still raging. That was also my last long trip on the GoldWing.
posted by LeeAnn | 2:46 PM
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