Ride Diary, Daytona Bike Week 2003

Saturday, March 1 [520 miles]

I had planned to leave by 7, but it was cold and crappy outside. I know--big surprise. So I dawdled around getting the bike loaded, shoveled a clear path to the travel lane, suited up and left around 10. Frigid drizzle in DC gave way to fog in VA. I kept thinking about seeing the snow disappear as a I went south. The last traces vanished north of Richmond and it started to warm up a bit, just in time for a long traffic backup between Richmond and Petersburg. VDOT had two lanes of three closed with a pothole-filling exercise. That and another lane closure south of Petersburg cost me at least an hour. I decided not to emulate a group of Harley riders who passed me on the shoulder. I ran down I-95 to US 701 just south of Wilson, NC. I had planned to visit Moore's Creek Battlefield near Wilmington for a national parks stamp, but due to the lateness of the hour and dark clouds on the horizon, I elected to ride straight down 701 to Charleston. Heavy rain and darkness are not a happy combination to me.

It rained heavily for the next 250 miles NC and SC and got even more interesting after dark. How many Bambis are off in those swamps, unseen, on each side of the road? While riding through Georgetown, South Carolina, I put the face shield up and let the warm humid air flow. Ah. Even in the rain, it feels good to be free of winter. I finally rolled into Charleston, glad to be there; hell, it had been a tough couple hundred miles, I was glad to be anywhere

Sunday, March 2 [450 miles]

Since the folks at the motel allowed me to park under cover in the breezeway next to the room, loading up was a snap and dry to boot. It had rained all night and was still drizzling in the morning. I went out in search of Ft. Moultrie and breakfast, but I ended up finding the USS Yorktown first. Then on to Ft. Moultrie, a stamp in the passport, and a 5,000-calorie down home breakfast. After crossing the harbor bridges again (I crossed just as a container ship slid under the span -- I thought about the fly speck of a motorcycle crossing paths with that behemoth) I headed south on US 17. On the two-lane portions live oaks arched over the road, dripping with Spanish moss and the sun is finally out. This looks like the south all right.

After reaching I-95 and putting in about an hour, it was time for another side trip, Fort Frederica National Monument on St. Simon's Island. I had been there twenty years ago and the island is unrecognizable now, as it is quite built up. After walking around a bit, getting my stamp and chatting with the friendly volunteers, it was time to get some rest in the saddle, so I made my way back into Brunswick and another harbor bridge. This is turning into a harbor bridge tour.

Back on the highway, the trusty VFR and I crossed into the Sunshine State. Signs warned of I-95 closed ahead in Jacksonville, so I swung to the east on 9A instead of 295, the more interesting of the two routes since it crosses a harbor bridge. South of Jacksonville was less pleasant, twenty miles of bumper to bumper traffic through a construction zone. Misery on a bike.

I'd had enough of that, so I got off the highway and headed east to A1A, the coastal road. A few miles down the coast lay Fort Matanzas, the Spanish colonial outpost south of St. Augustine, and my last national parks stamp location of the day. I'd missed the last boat to the fort for the day, but it was still great to sit on the pier and soak up the sun and take the jacket linings out. Then it was back to the bike for the short trip down to Daytona Beach and to rendezvous with my friends. Ah, this is what I came for. The scene: 80-degree temperatures, a beautiful sunset to my right, the ocean surf to my left, Harleys straight ahead. Yup, there are lots of bikes here all right, but overall a pretty sedate crowd. I only saw one wheelie and a couple of smoky burnouts.

Monday, March 3

The day I spent in Daytona itself was a little underwhelming. For one thing, I'd been battling this cold/flu bug for the past week, and it finally caught up with me and I feel like crap. Alternating chills and fever, the whole nine yards. Still I drag myself into the shower, get dressed and then head for town. We stop at the OEM displays at the Speedway. Kick the tires, sit on lotsa bikes, swap likes and dislikes. I must say the FJR is impressive, but the test rides were fully subscribed. Honda wasn't offering test rides on the VFR. Bummer. Unfortunately, I'd left the camera in the motel room, so no pictures. Then it started to rain, so we ate lunch and killed time at Barnes and Noble. My friends had had enough of sitting around, and went back to the room, but I decided, hell, I've come all this way, might as well hit Main St. and not just settle for Starbucks and watching TV. Did it; got the T-shirt. Still, even in the rain 70 degrees felt pretty good after the winter we've had. John Watson of the VFR list and I traded a few phone calls, but we didn't manage to link up. Sorry John.

Tuesday, March 4 [820 miles]