Gaspésie Gambol, Day 0

A Day for Fathers
Sunday June 21, 2009
Copyright(c) 2009, Jim Beachy

It’s Sunday afternoon, and the family is at Outback Steakhouse. Somehow steak and Father’s Day seem to be made for each other. If I’m choosing, as today I have been asked to do, then steak it will be.

We enjoy the time with Kevin and Kristal, and grandkids Danica and Carter. Our son Kevin has turned out to be quite a great father in his own right and I should be buying his lunch today! We talk about many things including our upcoming trip. If the mood strikes, we might even head out this afternoon or evening.

Last year, Kitty and I traveled on our Honda Gold Wing to Key West, farther south than we had ever been. This year we are heading farther north than we have ever been, to the tip of the Gaspe Peninsula, which at its extreme is about 150 miles north of the northernmost tip of Maine as well as Nova Scotia. Two weeks ago the high temperature there was 48F but this week it’s near 70F. I’ve wired the bike with a special connecting harness contributed by my friend Ray Smith, with whom I did a farewell ride several weeks ago; on that ride, I also picked up his Gerbing electric clothing to see if Kitty could wear it. It’s too tight for me, a little big for her, but passable, so we are ready for some cold weather if it happens!

Last weekend as I was getting the bike ready for departure, I carefully inspected the tires. I am fastidious with my tires (well, not just my tires, but particularly my tires) because on a motorcycle, they are, you might say, the only contact you have with the rest of the planet. This makes them an extremely important commodity. When I’m on a remote mountain road with Kitty somewhere in Canada or Carolina or Colorado, or on the Interstate crossing the Mississippi near Memphis in a blinding microburst while surrounded by two dozen big trucks, there are several thoughts that I pray will never cross my mind. Very high on that list is this one: “I kinda wish I would have changed those tires before we left!”

I changed the tires. Well, Mike at the Honda shop changed the tires. I’ve used up many sets of Dunlop Elite II tires over the years but Dunlop no longer produces them, so I’d tried a set of Dunlop Elite III. I never warmed up to them from the first mile to the last. They were noisy, loose on tar snakes and expansion joints, with limited longevity, and to me they always felt vague in a hard corner. Ray had mounted a set of Michelin Pilot GT tires on his Wing and liked them, so I decided I’d try a set. In the few miles I’ve ridden, I think I’m impressed. They seem quiet, road-savvy, and very accurate. I haven’t really tested them because as every biker knows, the cosmoline they put on rifles and rubber tires to protect them in storage is deathly slick on the road and you just don’t test your new tires for the first fifty or a hundred miles. I’m sure I’ll get a chance or two to test them in the next couple weeks.


I fly two flags on my Gold Wing: a US flag on the right antenna pole and a WOTI flag on the left. My Canadian friends tell me it is proper to proudly fly my US flag while traveling in Canada, eh? But both my flags were looking pretty bedraggled after accompanying us to Nova Scotia and then to Key West on separate trips. So last Monday I’d called The Flag People (http://www.theflagpeople.com) with a rush order. The new flags arrived Friday and I installed them on each pole. I can now fly a crisp new US flag as I travel through Canada! I looked for a minute at the old flag I’d just removed. It was in bad shape, dirty from hundreds of miles in the rain and frayed from many thousands of miles of wind-whipped travel. I have a collection of faded, dirty, and tattered US flags just like it; I carefully marked this one “Nova Scotia 2007”, “Key West or Bust 2008”, and “Once More with Feeling June 2009”, and gently laid it to rest with the others in the collection. On a winter’s day, I will pull them out and fondly remember.

On Friday, we discovered that mysteriously we had only one key to our Escapade trailer. Such a small thing but what an impact it would have if we lost it! We are not sure what happened to the spare key that normally travels in Kitty’s possession. So Saturday, Kitty set off to Artie’s Lock and Key, the only place in northern Virginia where I entertained any hope of finding this very specialized key. They did have that blank and soon I got her text message “4 trailr keys my zippered pocket!” The rest of the day I spent detailing the bike and trailer, wondering about where I picked up each of the splattered bugs that I carefully polished from the front of the bike.

In my stories, I hope people of different interests find something of interest, but I make no apologies for the technical biker content because this is first and foremost a biker’s tale. I think our motorcycle and trailer are as ready as I can make them. To my knowledge, every light, accessory, and function on the rig is doing what it should. Our routes and waypoints are loaded to my Garmin StreetPilot 2720 GPS unit. Our waterproof Cruiserworks riding boots are shined; even our black Shoei RF1000 helmets are newly waxed. My Wing’s name is Black Satin. Black Satin is a supremely competent long-range machine made for two-up touring, made for this trip.

We pack the last of the trip bags and I load the trailer, being mindful to keep a good load balance and proper tongue weight. It’s about 5:00 PM and we could leave now but after toying with the idea we decide to hang out at home this evening and leave tomorrow as planned. I believe we are ready. But the thing is, tomorrow’s story is still unwritten because it hasn’t been lived.

We’ll see you as it unfolds.