Father - Son Ride June 2012 - Sweet Tea and BBQ

Introduction

The idea had been first discussed in late summer the previous year. In fact, the genesis was really in spring when I entered a door prize drawing at the local Chapter Safety fair. As luck would have it…I WON! Nevertheless, I was not sure what I had won at the time and walked to the front of the room to claim my prize.

As I approached the presenter, I asked... “What did I win?” knowing it was the grand prize of the day I felt it would be something really nice.

Her reply surprised me... “Motorcycle lessons!”

As I was already a seasoned rider with a proper license approaching 30 years of age I felt I had not really won anything, and stated that I really didn’t need licensing classes any longer. It was then that she said…”Give them to someone who wants to learn to ride!”

I knew in that instant that my youngest son was going to be licensed.  My other children had always been regularly supported in their pursuits athletic ,social and academic, and often at some considerable financial investment on my part as we traveled around the area to attend classes and clinics; watch games and scrimmages, and offer assistance from planning pre-game meals to actually coaching and managing the teams.  These of course were investments of love and caring and I would never second-guess a moment of it, in fact, I wish I had done more on occasion, however we did what we could when we could. Nevertheless; when it came to the youngest, he had never shown any significant zeal for sports, or academics such that we would be required to travel, and support, and invest so he was rather shorted in the emotional and financial investment that comes with youth sports and social organizations.

So it was that in July he attended the MSF courses at Learning Curves Academy and was promptly and properly trained and licensed to operate a motorcycle.  A few short weeks after he had found a 1982 CX500 Custom sitting largely unused in a garage that had come up for sale on Craigslist and the negotiations began in earnest.  By the end of August, we had acquired the motorcycle and began the task of preparing it for our trip to the Tennessee Smokey Mountains.



1982 CX500 Custom - Fully Loaded



Throughout the long winter months we planned, and schemed what needed to be done to the bike to prepare it for the long journey to the south. Fortunately the bike as in remarkable shape for being 30 years old and there wasn’t a lot that had to be done mechanically to get it going…mostly we had to update everything and perform all the maintenance that had long been ignored.  New tires, and a front brake rebuild including stainless steel braided brake lines made the bike close to mechanically flawless and we set our sights on long distance riding preparations. The advantage we had was the bike purchased in fall, and we had the chance to log some miles before winter took hold and storage season began. That gave us enough knowledge of the performance characteristics of the bike that we could easily make ready for the early summer trip. Knowing several “shake down” runs were in the spring I was confident we would get eh bike ready to run side by side with a pack of Goldwings at the Traveling Picnic in Tennessee.  By adding an auxiliary fuel tank (capacity 3.5 gallons) and a handlebar mounted CB/radio system, we addressed the pressing needs of riding 500+ miles per day. That is reducing fuel stops, and combat boredom. Little did we realize that one thing we did not consider was the one thing that eventually worried me the most!  During a shake down run to the Twin Cities to meet with a group from the CX forum, we discovered that the bike had a longer range than his butt did. The 30 years old cruiser seat did not allow for long stretches in the saddle; and when one is attempting to cover long miles daily the secret is staying in the saddle. Ryan’s seat was killing him soon after crossing 125 miles and we knew that this would make for some difficult traveling conditions.  The solution was nearby however as I had a similar problem when I owned a GL1200 and I had fashioned a butt buffer seat pad from 2 layers of 1.5” memory foam covered in faux leather and fastened to the bike by a bootlace. By adding 3” of memory foam to the nether regions of his posterior, he was able to cover those long miles and we were off to the races – or at least the south.

Day 1 – Flying Pink Pigs

After our research during trial runs was concluded, it was determined the best way for Ryan to cover long miles was to stay off the Interstate highways. The high speed caused the bike to vibrate considerably (not surprising as it was turning 7500-8000 RPMs) and the combination of wind buffeting and this buzzing tires one out quickly. Our plan was to stay off the I-system and stick to secondary highways that were speed regulated to a more manageable 55ish MPH. At that speed the CX would make 56 MPG and not self destruct from the higher than usually RPM.s It was also a lot easier on Ryan although the tradeoff was a bit more TIME on the road than if we had briskly traveled the Interstate.  This was fine in my opinion as the best way to experience America is on the country highways that travel IN America rather than the I-system that travels THROUGH America. The country roads run into all the little towns and cities that make up the real America and by riding in them, one can get a sense of life in rural areas.

So it was that we were relegated to covering almost the entire length of Illinois from North to South as we followed Highway 51 to our point of eastward direction change toward Kentucky & Tennessee.  Once south of Rockford the state begins to be incredibly mono-scenic. Flat straight roads eating miles through corn fields is the bulk of the scenery  Mile after mile we rolled along, noting nothing of unique exception, and chatting haphazardly to pass the time. We were making fabulous time and I was greatly encouraged that we would be able to keep to schedule and cover the 500+ miles that day I had hoped we might.  The non-descript nature and vastness of the farming landscape took on a comfortable feeling in it’s repetition as we counted miles and compared them to hours.

Rolling along the highway, I noticed we were approaching an area of some small development. The cornfields were pushed back from the road a bit and there were a few houses, and a couple of business’ that had managed to take residence in this endless farmland. A few buildings on the left and a few more on the right and we would quickly breeze through this not-quite-a-town; however it was just large enough to require a slower speed as we entered the district.  It was there we noticed them on the left side of the road….standing between the road and the corn was 2 very large Pink Pig statues and they each had a set of wings! I radioed through the cb system that we just HAD to stop and take a picture and Ryan wholeheartedly agreed. So after making a u-turn we returned to the Flying Pink Pigs for pictures of American Roadside kitsch.  This was just the thing we needed to re-energize our traveling spirit after so many miles of straight flat riding.  Once we mounted our bikes, again the riding was somehow easier and more enjoyable in spite of the oppressive heat and humidity.  Now keenly aware we preceded towards our destination for the night – Paducah Kentucky – some 500 plus miles from home.