DAY 2
05/02/96
Fancy Gap, VA to Blowing Rock, NC...
to Asheville, NC to Hiawassee, GA

I awoke to the sound of a knocking on the door and immediately had terrible thoughts of "your bike has been stolen/hit/blown up..." Turns out the proprieter was concerned that I might sleep through the alarm  (I did) so he wandered over and knocked on the door to make sure I was up. I thanked him and caught a glimpse of him obviously shuffling back to bed in his bathrobe and slippers. My kind of motel, I'll make it a point to stay here again if I am in the area.

After another wonderfully hot shower I suited up and drove the 50 yards to the "Hilltop Diner," which wasn't really a diner but the food was good, cheap and plentiful, and all of the waitresses looked like Flo so I let it slide ;-) After three or four more cups of coffee and the "Truck Driver's Special" I paid up and wandered outside to check with the 1-800 service for Mike's message. On the way over to the phone I saw what looked like a chalkmark on the rear tire of the bike...I thought it quite odd that they would be chalking tires way out here. (For those who are wondering, revenue gatherers often put a chalk stripe on the tread of a tire so when they come back in two hours they will know you haven't moved and are worthy of contributing to the public coffers.) I finally saw the lake on the way out...it was a pond about the size of a tennis court with a 5' high hurrican fence around it, but it was there.

"Meet me in Blowing Rock somewhere on the main road at a breakfast place." That was enough information for me so I mounted up, gassed up and tried to go over in my head how I was going to make the 90 miles in 120 minutes? I decided that Mike would probably be late too so I settled in at 45 to 50 mph and really enjoyed the crisp, cool morning and the incredibly clear views.

I made blowing rock in good time and immediately sought out the "Main Road." I was looking for someone to ask whan Mercedes 300 Gullwing pulled up next to me at the light. Working around the involuntary watering of my mouth I managed to get "Main Street?" out - the Driver shot a thumb to the right and he was off, followed by a Jaguar SSK, a Jaguar type "E", an Aston Martin, an Austin Healy, a Porsche 365, and two MG's. I was really starting to like Blowing Rock. Turns out there was a classic car rally, and we'd see these cars and several others like them all the way down the BRP.

I parked in front of the Blowing Rock visitors center (which wasn't open) and used the payphone out front to leave Mike a 1-800 message telling him I had arrived and was lounging on the steps.  Midway through spelling S-C-H-E-N for the third time Mike rolls up and parks next to an ancient and perfectly kept green MG with no windshield and antique tags. After we caught up on the last day's worth of adventure I related the tire chalking peculiarity and Mike wandered over to take a look.

"You Idiot!" he fairly yelled pointing to the tire.  "Not only is the damn tire bald it has cord showing in a bunch of places!" After inspecting the carcas of the Mez ME-99 we both decided that I need to get it replaced ASAP so I pulled out the Handy MOA Anonymous Book and looked under "Dealers - North Carolina" for nearby help. Turns out there was a dealer less than 30 miles away. A quick phone call later and I was back looking in the Anonymous book as I was informed by the dealer that "We don't sell them German bikes no more, just Harley's." The closest dealer was at least an hour away, in the opposite direction, and all looked dark until the Charlotte dealer told me about an independent shop in Asheville (right along the way) that serviced Bimmers and may have a tire in stock for me. I called and (after they searched every nook and cranny of the parts room) they found a Continental H rated touring tire in my size for "only" $130 , mounting and balancing extra of course - not exactly a fire sale, but when in need....well, you know how that goes.

Mike and I pushed on to Asheville, slowly so I could nurse the ailing tire that was now suddenly acting up quite a bit, like it was going flat. The landscape was actually getting quite similiar - mountain vista, slow sweeper through a forested glen, pop out to a farm and on to another grand panorama, when suddenly I noticed a car pulled far off of the road and in front of it, on the grass, next to the road, was a Pamela Anderson look-alike in a gold string bikini reclining on a big white towel. I did one of the greatest double-takes that motrin had ever been enlisted to later soothe and figured that it was fate's way of taking my mind off the tire (and fate was completely successful.) I wanted to go back and take a picture but Mike called me a voyeur so we pushed on.

As we left the BRP for Asheville I called the independent store and they gave us directions. I then noticed a "Mr. Honda" ad next to the independent's ad and, as it was just down the street, I took Mike's suggestion and called, let them know I was riding through, and asked if they had a Metzler ME-99 130-90-V17 for me.
"Why of course, and it is only $159.99 plus $25.00 to mount and balance."
"What about the Dunlop 491?"
"We can get that too, only $149.99 plus......"
Well I was really starting to feel like I was asking for water from the only well owner in the Sahara! But what the heck, both were better than the H rated Conti that had been on a shelf for who knows how long. During the 20 minute ride over to Mr Honda I got pretty angry with myself for not checking my tires before I left - This was my first real moto trip so I guess I had a lot to learn.

When we arrived to Mr. Honda, Mike, perhapse knowing more than I did at the time, took off to get lunch. I wandered in, let them know I was a thru-rider, and asked for the tire.
"Well we don't keep those in stock, we have to send someone to the warehouse to get it and that takes about two hours."
"Why didn't you have someone leave to pick it up 30 minutes ago when I called?!?"
"We didn't know if you would show up."
And that was the right answer because my K would be wearing a conti right now had I known that I would be waiting that long and paying that much. Someone wandered in and asked about one of the $600 Shoei helmets (colormatched to the new Honda CBRXYZ) so I shifted over to look at the "Tires On Sale" rack. All ATV tires, ZX-11 looking tires, and a few that looked like they belong on my old SR-250 weenie bike, when there it was. Up top, over the wall of lime green t-shirts and flourescent pink Krypto locks was a Dunlop 591 that looked, as the littlest bear said, "juuuuust right." We pulled it down and lo and behold it was an 80 instead of a 90... Hey, no problemo I announced, now I can get both heels on the ground with my shock all the way up! The tire was on sale for $89.99, roughly half price! I slapped down the plastic and in less than five minutes the runner was called off from the warehouse trip and I was wheeling the wheel, Huck Finn style, back to the shop to have it mounted and balanced.

Paul is the shop manager and was delighted to see a not-superbike. Turns out he rides a Harley full dress and just gets sick and tired of 18 year-olds on superbikes that want everything done right now for half the price and you-better-not-smudge-the-plastic-or-else. I held my breath until he smiled and said "I like to get thru-riders out of here as quickly as possible, relax and have a seat." As a wrench wheeled in the K75S he looked at the rear tire and asked if I was, "stupid or something." I noticed that the ring of fabric now extended entirely around the tire. "Come here, I got something to show you while they put on your new tire." He led me into a big room off of the shop that was filled with every variety of superbike, all broken, scraped or generally destroyed in some way or another.
"This is our Deal's Gap room, most of these (about 40) are from the last two weeks. You stay away from there with that new tire now ya'hear?"
I didn't have the heart to tell him it was one of the reasons I was on this trip, but I did leave the room with a certain trepidation after helping to unload a brand-new ZX-9 that had been utterly destroyed - it only had 775 miles on it. The gas tank literally fell off as we slid it off of the truck. I watched as they finished putting on my new tire, promised Paul a DC license plate for the Shop's collection and roared out front to find Mike swapping stories with several superbikers that had stopped to admire his K75 avec Rifle fairing.

Mike, my new tire and I fled from Asheville for the BRP. After the Ashville area the BRP sort of takes a life of its own - the views are better, the curves are tighter and more steeply banked, even the plants seem to be greener. We took a slight detour for a v-e-r-y twisty road one of the superbikers had told Mike about - he didn't lie as I fairly coasted down and nursed the new tire back up in mostly first and sometimes second gear. I was going so slow I could actually identify the twin GSXR's that roared past at light speed with riders in matching leathers, boots, gloves and helmets. Those guys were really, really good, or knew that road really well. Maybe both. This was one of the last times I saw superbike riders dressed in full leathers (save for a few that were with our group already.)

We stopped at the highest point of the BRP for pictures, and decided to bag the last 15 miles of the BRP for a road that looked like it was Deal's Gap's younger sibling, Route 80. I felt the tire was broken in (I had broken off all of the tire spikes) so Mike and I generally had a very delightful time following this road down from about 5000 feet to the valley, running along a trout stream that I could only dream about (and damn myself for not bringing the 4-piece) for most of the way. Route 80 suddenly ran into the super-slab and we took off for the short (and quick) hop to Hiawassee. For some strange reason we made it to the Rally without having to turn around once..;-) Following Pat Roddy's excellent directions we found the glen of trees he had reconned and Mike began to set up as I set out on a search for other Presidents. I was led up to the upper camp and immediately ran into a friend from home and fellow President Richard Bernecker, who rapidly introduced me to Greg Pink, Rick Landi and the man himself, Pat Roddy. We all decided to grab a bite to eat after finishing setting up and two IBMWR camps were born as Pat, Mike and I set up in the lower, less crowded (at first) area.

The Upper Presidents rolled down shortly after we had put up our tents and ala Richard set our roll up chairs in front of our tents as though we had been there for weeks. We grouped up and roared through Hiawassee in search of food and beer, and as anyone coming straight at us could tell, lots of it. We quickly found "the restaurant." The $4.00 for a main course, 3 sides, iced tea and desert restaurant. The "if you leave here hungry you need serious help" restaurant. After an hour or two of laughing and eating we headed back to the campsite where half went to sleep and the other half found out that Rick Landi is one man who knows how to pack for a rally.

After boring Adam Walkoff to tears I rumbled to the payphone to leave Dave Keuch another 1-800-MOA message that he would never get (they were due late afternoon), then back to my tent and fell into a deep, delicious sleep only to wake up at 4:00 am to someone repeatedly zipping and unzipping his sleeping bag. I fell back asleep after around 30 zip cycles. This one I couldn't figure out so I didn't bother.

On to Day 3...

Day  1   -  2  -  3  -  4  -  5 - Intro

All Photos and Text Copyright©1996-9, Ted Verrill
(Except noted photos, Copyright©1996 Dave & Carol Keuch)
Any use without explicit written permission is expressly forbidden