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Enlightenment in Pennsylvania: An Allegheny National Forest Motorcycle Ride

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride
Getting there is half the fun, especially on this Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride. Motorcyclists can find plenty of enjoyment riding the byways that wind through and around this lush region in Pennsylvania.

My father‑in‑law had a thing for the Allegheny National Forest in northwestern Pennsylvania. George would regularly leave his home in Jeannette, an industrial town east of Pittsburgh, and make the two‑hour trek to the family’s hunting camp nestled at the edge of the state’s only national forest. 

Although he was raised a city boy, George longed for the quiet mountains. He loved to fish, canoe, and hike in the warmer months and hunt and cross‑country ski in the winter. He enjoyed meeting and talking with people year‑round.  

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride
Roads gently sweep through the forest, adding to the calming effect of the area.

George and I developed a friendship that went beyond the requisite in‑law geniality. We became close friends and confidants. As I began spending more time with George at camp, I discovered he not only loved the area but was also intimately familiar with nearly every small town, backroad, and beer garden across Clarion, Forest, Elk, and McKean counties. George seemed to know everyone, and everyone knew and loved George. As he introduced me to his old haunts and new friends, I became intrigued by what made this area so special to him. 

Although my wife’s beloved father and my dear friend is now gone, Amy and I find ourselves driving the 100 miles north from the city nearly every weekend to work on the old camp property and take in the mystique of the region he held so dear. In the beginning, it was a way to stay connected and aid the healing process. Then we developed our own growing attachment to the area.

No longer having the benefit of the informative and entertaining car rides with George, I began going solo on a motorcycle (my own happy place) to explore more of “George’s Country.” Carving out a long weekend, I straddled my GS and headed north to investigate local attractions and, as George would, invest the time to talk with people and make new friends along the way. 

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

(See RESOURCES at the end of the story for links to information about areas covered in this ride.)

George neither owned nor ever rode a motorcycle, although he did have a motorcycle endorsement. In Pennsylvania, there was a time when one could simply check boxes on the license renewal application to select endorsements. George chose car, motorcycle, commercial truck, and school bus. Fortunately, he stuck to cars. He said he thought he could make a motorcycle go but wasn’t confident he could get one to stop, which simply wouldn’t have fit his travel style since he enjoyed stopping often. 

The farther into the forest I rode, the more my stress slipped away. The gently sweeping, rising, and falling roads pleasantly transitioned me to a calmer mind. A patchwork of idyllic farms and homesteads stretched across the valleys as folks offered friendly waves. Up here, life is simpler, less frenetic, and more down to earth.  

Along the road, I saw a sign proclaiming “100 Years of Growth.” The 514,000‑acre Allegheny National Forest celebrates its centennial in 2023, but unlike cities and suburbs, this is slow growth – unhurried evolution that builds strength and deep roots. 

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride
Established Sept. 24, 1923, Allegheny National Forest celebrates its 100th anniversary this year – although the roots run much deeper.

Towns and attractions in the area have powerful stories and deep histories that are easy to miss when one rides through a town or past an attraction without stopping. And here is where I must make a confession: I have a habit of allowing the momentum of a ride to urge me to keep rolling, and I convince myself I will revisit later when I have more time (I rarely do). Taking a cue from George, this ride would be about using the time I now have at my disposal.  

See all of Rider‘s Pennsylvania touring stories here.

Citizens of Kane

Traveling north on State Route 66, I saw a sign that proclaimed I had arrived at the gateway town of Kane, “A Star in the Forest.” This is also the junction with U.S. Route 6, known locally as PA Route 6, a favorite road among motorcyclists that stretches east/west across the length of the state. 

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride Kane Pennsylvania
The town of Kane is an ideal hub for exploring the Allegheny National Forest. With abundant route options and plenty of local attractions of its own, it’s a natural destination for riders.

At the entrance to Kane is a railroad crossing and historic rail station set against the skyline of 19th century buildings. Built around 1871, the Kane Depot is now a museum dedicated to preserving the town’s heritage, which includes the role a Kane citizen (not Citizen Kane) played in saving the Mexican wolf from extinction. Who knew? A stone outcropping hosts a sculpted wolf and cubs and a plaque that toplines the story so that people do know, and the museum tells the story with vivid exhibits. 

I idled into town, and as I had committed to doing, I stopped, walked around the business district, and even picked up a tourist map of the area (available at nearly every establishment in the region and a great resource for finding “can’t miss” stops and favorite motorcycle routes; also see the Resources at the end of this article). 

See all of Rider’s Northeast U.S. touring stories here.

I love how these old towns are being revitalized with local businesses, restaurants, breweries, and shops – not the endless stretch of chains found near every city, suburb, and interstate exit. Here was Logyard Brewing, which specializes in sourcing ingredients native to the immediate Pensylvannia Wilds area. I was still on my ride so didn’t partake, but I did poke my head inside for a look. Very cool. Similarly cool is Table 105, located next door. I knew I had the right place for lunch when I spotted the ’72 Indian minibike hanging on the wall (I had one as a kid). The atmosphere was an ideal mix of vintage local architecture, modern brew pub, and northwestern PA kindness. Taking my server’s suggestion, I ordered a barbecue chicken pizza that was nothing short of amazing.  

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride
A throwback to a kinder, more social time. Connecting with the local folks and other travelers is what these small towns are (re)made for.

With a full belly and a few hours of sun left, I pointed the bike north for a loop up to Kinzua Point and back. A gentle ride along State Route 321 traced the western shore of the Allegheny River. At 321’s terminus, a left on State Route 59 took me deeper into the trees. Campsites, recreation areas, trails, and scenic overlooks abound, although one would never know if not for the signs since each is tucked away in the trees. Resisting my natural inclination to press on, I turned at the Rimrock Overlook sign. A narrow and winding well‑paved path through the trees is followed by a short, easy walk to a spot where the limited view dramatically opens to a majestic vista of forested mountains and the wide river below. I gave George a virtual high‑five.

Back on Route 59 heading west, the forest opens to spectacular views of pristine water. This is the Allegheny River where its expanse forms the roughly 10,000‑acre Allegheny Reservoir thanks to the Kinzua Dam – one of the largest dams east of the Mississippi. 

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride Allegheny Reservoir
Created by the Kinzua Dam, the immense Allegheny Reservoir is inviting for boaters, diners, and sightseers.

As the sun began its downward journey, I began my own, turning south on the Longhouse National Scenic Byway, where I was met with more of the twisting, rising, and falling terrain that makes me glad to be on a motorcycle. The path teased me with periodic peeks at the water to my left as I traced the opposite side of the river. 

I made an obligatory stop for ice cream at Bob’s Trading Post. I ordered a small cone, but the kid behind the counter kept piling on scoops until I finally asked him to stop, reminding him that I ordered a small. He informed me that a “small” at Bob’s has three giant scoops of ice cream and said what I wanted was a “baby” cone. Sheepishly, I said to make it a baby cone then. With big baby cone in hand, I proceeded past the line of regular patrons who were clearly enjoying our exchange. 

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride Kane Pennsylvania
The author enjoys a “baby” cone at Bob’s Trading Post in Kane.

With the loop complete, I wheeled into the Kane Tourist Home & Motor Inn. It’s a throwback to old‑time travel when tourists would stay in converted old mansions (a “tourist home”) or later, in one of a row of private rooms with parking spots at each front door. It would be the motor inn for me. Built in 1952, it doesn’t seem to have changed much. The rooms have wood‑paneled walls and vintage framed pictures. Pink tile adorns the bathroom. As it was back then, there’s no television, but the new owners do provide wi‑fi in case a traveler can’t go a night without streaming something. I chose to sit on a chair outside my room, sip good bourbon, and watch neighborhood kids play outside (a rare sight where I live). 

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride Kane Tourist Home & Motor Inn
The Kane Tourist Home & Motor Inn gives motorcycle travelers a taste of old-time lodging, including affordability and parking just outside your room.

The motor inn was just off the main drag, so I walked to a quaint little winery called Twisted Vine where a delightful and bright young lady was behind the bar and a youngish couple were seated to my left. Surprisingly, folks weren’t absorbed by their mobile devices; they were engaged in conversation. I was welcomed into a pleasant chat with all of them, during which I learned more about the area, about how the town of Kane has been making a comeback, about local musicians, and more. Because I stopped, I made new friends. This is one of the things I enjoy so much about traveling by motorcycle. It gives me the opportunity to escape and, at the same time, reconnect with life in a more meaningful way. Nothing fake. No agendas. Just engagement with good people in an atmosphere that is relaxed enough to invite conversation. More and more, I came to understand George’s fascination with this area.

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride Rimrock Overlook
Hidden down narrow lanes are gems like this spectacular view from the Rimrock Overlook.

One Becomes Two

My friend and fellow motorcycle safety expert Hal Deily joined me the next day for the rest of my Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride. It was fun to see how Hal, a guy who has lived within the city limits of Pittsburgh his entire life, was enjoying the vast ancient forests, the well‑preserved countryside, and the hospitality of small‑town communities. Being naturally social, Hal immediately struck up conversations with wait staff, shop owners, and patrons. He and I got into our typical back‑and‑forth banter that entertained the locals (we think), and as I did several times on this journey, I thought back to how George and his brother‑in‑law Billy would often be the center of attention anywhere they went as they shared stories and told old jokes to new audiences. They were never obnoxious, just good spirited and lighthearted people who were fun to be around.  

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride
The author plugs into the local heritage.

After breakfast on PA Route 6 at the Barrel House, we continued toward the Kinzua Sky Walk, rated “One of the Top 10 Most Beautiful Skywalks and Viewpoints in the World,” at Kinzua Bridge State Park. Once the highest and longest railroad viaduct in the world, a direct tornado strike in 2003 wiped out more than half of its span. The mangled wreckage of steel towers rests in perpetuity on the valley floor more than 200 feet below what is now a prime viewing area at the far end of the surviving structure. This is a must‑see destination for any ride in the area, evidenced by the volume of motorcycles in the parking lot.

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride Kinzua Sky Walk
A must-see, the Kinzua Sky Walk takes visitors to the edge of what was once the world’s highest railroad viaduct (before it took a direct tornado hit).

In addition to delightfully laid‑back two‑lane riding, PA Route 6 presents many rewarding sights and significant historical areas of interest. Magnificent Victorian mansions line the way through downtown Smethport, evidence of a game of architectural one‑upmanship played by the area’s lumber barons during the 19th‑century timber boom. There, Hal and I stumbled upon Old Town Smethport, the home of “America’s First Christmas Store.” It’s also an eclectic collection of historical displays that includes old‑fashioned toys, an original stagecoach, a vintage delivery truck, a rustic log cabin, and even a Civil War cannon and artillery. I can’t help but think George would have loved this place. And I’m glad Hal and I took the time to stop, even though it meant shedding all our riding gear once again. 

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride Smethport Pennsylvania
Tree-lined streets and well-preserved Victorian-era mansions of the logging-baron days guide the way through Smethport.

Just west of Port Allegany is an eye‑catching structure along the road called Lynn Hall. Built in the Modernist style (think Frank Lloyd Wright), this stunning 1930s residence is an unexpected gem in the woods. But don’t blink or you’ll miss it!  

Port Allegany is surrounded by natural resources ideal for making glass. That’s what brought Pierce Glass to the town in 1917, followed later by Pittsburgh Corning, makers of architectural glass block distributed worldwide. That proud heritage is celebrated in the Serenity Glass Park, an art display in the heart of town. Murals and sculptures made of colored glass fill the garden. I wish we could have viewed it after dark when the garden is electrified by lights. It must be spectacular.  

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride Port Allegany’s Serenity Glass Park
Hal checks out the impressive glass sculptures in Port Allegany’s Serenity Glass Park.

Following a tip, Hal and I turned north onto State Route 155 and then 446 toward the town of Eldred to visit the Eldred World War II Museum. This small community nestled in quiet hills was the site of a munitions plant during the war, producing millions of bombs, shells, and fuses in support of America’s war effort. The museum features a fascinating collection of period artifacts, photos, vehicles, uniforms, weapons, and models. There is a stunning amount of history housed here (just be ready for a curator who is anxious to provide abundant historical – and editorial – commentary). 

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride World War II Museum Eldridge Pennsylvania
The extensive World War II Museum in Eldridge draws visitors from near and far.

No Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride is complete without a stop in Bradford and the Zippo/Case Museum. This world‑class museum wraps the visitor in living history as they walk through the back stories of Zippo windproof lighters and Case knives. Photos, videos, vintage advertising, promotional vehicles, and prototype products bring the stories to life, cleverly showcasing how the products have become part of the fabric of American (and world) culture. I was fascinated by a display of destroyed lighters that had been returned for repair or replacement. (Zippo’s guarantee has always been, “It works, or we fix it for free.”) 

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride Zippo Case Museum and Flagship Store
The Zippo windproof lighter and Case cutlery museum is world-class. There’s plenty to keep visitors entertained for hours. Seeing this Zippo promotional car was worth the trip!

Hal and I then took a ride through downtown past the Marilyn Horne Museum, but we were too late to catch this tribute to Bradford’s big opera star, who was once described as “probably the greatest singer in the world” by Opera News. Instead, we wound our way to Bradford Brew Station for a late, nonalcoholic lunch. The brewery has a great reputation, but we still had to ride to our hotel across town. In contrast to the prior night in Kane, we grabbed rooms in a modern Holiday Inn Express that was both affordable and perfectly comfortable. A brisk walk through town to the Papa Scoop’s ice cream stand near Zippo corporate headquarters was the perfect nightcap. 

In the morning, Hal and I opted to ride from Bradford down through Emporium and into the Elk State Forest where we picked up the fabulous State Route 555 along Sinnemahoning Creek to Benezette. A little side loop on Winslow Hill Road rewarded us with fun two‑lane riding and spectacular elk viewing areas. 

A quick sprint up to St. Marys (home of Straub Brewery) was followed by a jaunt to the quaint town of Ridgeway for lunch where Hal and I channeled George and Billy once more, telling polite jokes and laughing with the server and other guests. You just can’t help but be jovial here. And maybe, in the end, I guess that’s what makes the forest so special: It brings out the best in people. By George…I think I’ve got it!

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

Allegheny National Forest motorcycle ride
Green as far and deep as the eye can see. Roads wind through 514,000 acres of Pennsylvania’s only national forest.

Allegheny National Forest Motorcycle Ride Resources:

The post Enlightenment in Pennsylvania: An Allegheny National Forest Motorcycle Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Lessons Learned on a Wandering West Virginia Motorcycle Ride

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Kanawha Falls State Park Kawasaki Versys-X 300
My campsite at Kanawha Falls State Park on my West Virginia motorcycle ride.

We all have beliefs about what’s expected of a motorcycle camper, and sometimes it takes a certain situation to bring those expectations to the surface. For me, it took heavy rain on a mountain road during a West Virginia motorcycle ride to point out my principles on motorcycle travel and what type of person I thought I needed to be to do it. 

A Beautiful Beginning

Everything was going according to plan. I was on a solo motorcycle camping trip across central West Virginia along the Midland Trail National Scenic Byway (U.S. Route 60), and I spent my first night at the Kanawha State Forest campground. My campsite was pleasantly remote and on top of a bridge that crossed a scenic running creek. Waking up to the sound of gently flowing water was an energizing start to what would be an amazing day – or so I thought.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

I packed up my gear and headed into Charleston for an early lunch. I chose Adelphia Sports Bar & Grille in the historic downtown area and enjoyed the best dish I’ve eaten on any of my dozen or so motorcycle camping trips to date: gyro macaroni and cheese, perfectly spiced gyro meat atop pasta shells and a creamy, cheesy sauce. I was in heaven.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Adelphia Sports Bar & Grille Charleston
I had never seen a gyro mac and cheese dish offered anywhere before I ordered it at Adelphia Sports Bar & Grille in Charleston, and it turned out to be one of the most comforting dishes I’ve had.

The First Rainstorm

Having thoroughly enjoyed my meal, I took off along the curvy Route 60 on my way to Lewisburg. Along the way, it started to drizzle, but my waterproof gear was doing its job. Then the rain intensified from a drizzle to a shower and eventually a torrential downpour. The road became curvier, with switchbacks and hairpins that would have been delightful on dry pavement but were treacherous when wet. Not trusting my tires as sheets of water ran across the corners, I was stiff and tense. Having nowhere to stop for cover, I had no choice but to press on.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Kanawha Falls State Park
Kanawha Falls State Park has campsites in a serene landscape covered in soft moss, which muffled surrounding noises and created a feeling of complete solitude.

Seeking relief, I consulted the navigation app on my phone and found a shortcut. To my dismay, the shortcut turned out to be a one‑­lane road with no shoulder – my least favorite type of road – and was no less treacherous in terms of cornering. I accidentally took a wrong turn onto a deserted side road, and then the navigation rerouted me to a sharp, steep downhill left turn that would lead to another side route. I froze, uncomfortable with such a tight turn on wet ground.

Deciding that I should go back to Route 60, which at least had lane lines and a shoulder, I suddenly noticed two giant German shepherds nearby, glaring and growling at me. As they both started running toward me, I quickly accelerated and turned down that steep incline to get out of there faster than they could run. That’s one way to initiate a turn you don’t want to take. 

I continued on the narrow, curvy road. My nerves were frayed by this point, and I even had a desperate thought that I should pull over and call my husband to come get me – a ridiculous notion, given that I was nearly eight hours away from home.

I finally made it through the not‑­so‑­shortcut and back onto Route 60, bitter that I could have just stayed on it the whole time. I started seeing signs for Lewisburg and have never been so relieved as when I pulled into Hill & Holler, the pizza place I had programmed into my phone. 

Carbohydrate Therapy

After taking off my soaking wet gear and ordering a 12‑­inch pizza all for myself, I settled in and let my frazzled nerves relax. I wasn’t sure what to do next. My reserved campsite was still an hour away – also along mountain roads. This time, the roads were ones that I had never ridden before, and on the map, they looked as curvy as where I had just been.

Deep down, I wanted to get a hotel. The thought of riding another hour or two in unrelenting heavy rain and setting up a soggy campsite sounded downright miserable. I messaged my husband and some of my riding friends; he supported the hotel idea, but they encouraged me to press on. They said it would be worth it, that I could do it, that there was no giving up or turning back. I felt guilty for thinking about giving up and getting a hotel, even though I knew it was the safest thing to do.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Charleston Kawasaki Versys-X 300
Charleston, West Virginia’s capital that’s bisected by the Kanawha River, has a charming historic downtown district.

Never one to back down from a challenge, I decided to continue, leaving the pizza place after cleaning up the massive puddles my dripping gear had left on their floor. Once outside, I discovered it was raining even harder. I hopped on and rode to the nearest gas station to fill up, and as my visor fogged up completely, I decided enough was enough. I found a hotel less than half a mile down the street and checked in. After carrying my luggage up the stairs and stripping off my water‑­logged gear, I collapsed onto the bed. 

At this point, I felt terrible about myself and my decision. I had given up, taken the easy way out, let down myself and everyone who was cheering me on. I realized I had high expectations of myself as a motorcycle camper – that I should be tough and resilient, but instead I was a wuss. Other female moto campers I had seen on social media portrayed themselves as “hardcore” as they slept sitting up or spent the night under a bridge. Why couldn’t I make it through a little rain?

After a hot shower and some takeout, I started feeling better about my decision. Staying in a hotel allowed me to regroup and relax, and it was nice to drift off to sleep in a dry, comfortable bed. 

Bears and Boulders on a West Virginia Motorcycle Ride

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Seneca Rocks
Seneca Rocks is popular among visitors and rock climbers from all over. (Photo by Edward Bodnar – stock.adobe.com)

The next day, I awoke to sunny skies and headed north on U.S. Route 219, also known as the Seneca Trail and part of the Seneca Skyway loop route. The ride was thrilling. For a while, I forgot I was on my Kawasaki Versys‑­X 300 adventure bike since it was handling the curves like my Ninja 400.

After a thoroughly enjoyable half‑­hour of riding, I dropped my kickstand at Beartown State Park, a must‑­stop for an avid hiker like me. Beartown has one of the most unique hiking trails I’ve ever experienced, a half‑­mile stroll on wooden boardwalks that wind through imposing rock formations on all sides. I was one of the only people there, so walking through this “town” of large boulders was quiet, a little eerie, and the perfect reward after the trials I’d been through the previous day.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Beartown State Park
Beartown State Park was named because the pioneers thought it resembled a town for bears since the rocks are roughly the size and shape of buildings.

Route 219 took me all the way north to Elkins, a charming historic town that serves as the seat of Randolph County. Elkins was a coal and timber town in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Its revitalized downtown has restaurants, bars, shops, lodging, and museums centered around the restored Elkins Depot, where you can take a scenic train ride on the Durban & Greenbrier Valley Railroad. Scottie’s of Elkins, full of locals and serving hearty, delicious comfort food, was the perfect place for lunch.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Elkins
West Virginia certainly lives up to its nickname, The Mountain State. Tucked between the rolling Appalachian peaks are cozy burgs like Elkins, which are great places to stay, eat, and enjoy other off-bike activities.

Riding east out of Elkins, U.S. Route 33 follows a winding path up and over the Allegheny Mountains, crossing several rivers along the way to Seneca Rocks, a scenic rock formation that’s popular among climbers. I stayed on Route 33 to Judy Gap, where I continued south on State Route 28, enjoying curves and sunshine all the way to Watoga State Park. 

After setting up my campsite, I walked to the bathhouse and was stopped by a man in his 70s who was in better shape than I am. He yelled out from across the yard, “Are you the biker lady?” I laughed and responded, “Yes sir, that’s me.”

He asked where I had come from and where I was going. When I mentioned I had planned to spend the previous night here but stayed in a hotel instead because of the rain, he exclaimed, “Oh, you sissy!” I was taken aback and momentarily hurt until he laughed and followed his insult with the remark, “Yea right. I’ve never even seen a female on a solo motorcycle trip here in 17 years of being a camp host.”

Point taken: I couldn’t possibly be a sissy given what I was out here doing. This realization and the external validation were a relief. 

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Elkins Depot
Elkins Depot has a welcome center with information about the area. You can also board a train for a different sort of scenic ride through the mountains.

Return to Route 39 and Motorcycle Camaraderie

Rain started again in the evening, and while it had stopped by morning, my tent and tarp were still wet when I packed them up. My final campground of the trip was at Beech Fork State Park, but I had a few stops I wanted to make along the way. Plus, I wanted to ride State Route 39, which was the other reason I had come to this area – a man on a previous trip had given me a coin and pin commemorating this road (see “Along the Midland Trail: A West Virginia Motorcycle Trip”), but I didn’t get a chance to ride it at that time.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Seneca Trail
The landscape of the Seneca Trail (U.S. Route 219) is a remarkable mixture of rolling hills and mountains.

For this trip, I had taken a laissez‑­faire approach to planning: Pick a few destinations and the routes in between them and see what happens. This was different from my usual meticulous planning, and I ended up missing out on a few opportunities. I assumed that Route 39 would be a curvy road through towns and countryside like Route 60, but it runs through a national forest, isn’t particularly curvy, and has plenty of tourist stops along the way. Trying to beat the oncoming rain and knowing I had limited time to get to my next campsite, I didn’t stop at any of them, which I regret. 

I continued south on U.S. Route 19 back to Route 60 when I got stuck in yet another rainstorm, this time on a four‑­lane highway. Given the recent relinquishing of my harsh, self‑­imposed rules about pressing on in misery, it was an easy decision to stop in Fayetteville at Water Stone Outdoors – a befitting name for my situation.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Kawasaki Versys-X 300
My Kawasaki Versys-X 300 handled well in the rain, but I still felt tense and nervous on steep, winding roads.

The store had a cafe inside, and my weather app said the rain would pass in about an hour, so I settled in with a warm and comforting chai latte while perusing their clothing options, again dripping puddles all over the floor. 

A local woman approached me and said they didn’t see many motorcycle travelers around there. She asked if I was alone. When I replied that I was, she gave me a fist bump and said, “Wow, so you’re a badass!”

This woman didn’t know that I had stayed in a hotel to escape the rain nor did she care that I had ducked into a cafe to do it again. She just knew I was out here traveling on a bike, and that was enough in her book. It should be enough in my book as well. 

As the sun peeked out of the clouds and the rain stopped, I headed to Beech Fork State Park. On previous trips, I had gone to one homebase campground and then branched out on day trips from there. This time, I had planned an actual tour where I stopped at a new place each night and packed up camp in the morning.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Kawasaki Versys-X 300 Beech Fork Lake
My campsite at Beech Fork Lake was a beautiful retreat.

I found this to be exhausting, even with my hotel stay in the middle of it. After packing up my kit at Watoga, I had thought briefly about pushing through and riding the eight hours home just so I wouldn’t have to set up camp again. But I reminded myself that camping was half the reason I was on the trip and I would enjoy it once I was there, feeling the weight of my beloved camp equipment in my hands as I unpacked it. And for once, the weather looked clear for the next two days. 

Related: Motorcycle Camping Tips…From the Backyard?

I arrived at Beech Fork State Park and found a perfect campsite with a stunning view of a lake. I set up camp and enjoyed the quiet solitude until I heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle exhaust. A large BMW adventure bike loaded up with gear and piloted by a man in matching textile apparel pulled around the circle in front of my campsite.

“I heard there was another motorcyclist in the campground,” he said through his helmet. “I thought I might stop by and say hello.”

We chatted briefly about where we were from and where we were headed. “You’re the only other traveling motorcyclist I’ve talked to on one of my trips,” he told me, and I indicated that he was the same. I was reminded of my recent realizations thanks to the camp host at Watoga and the woman at Water Stone Outdoors. They had both taught me that being out on a bike was enough, regardless of whether you’re traveling across the world or just across a state, roughing it every night in the backcountry or sleeping in a campground with amenities, braving the elements or enjoying warm and safe shelter indoors.

Looking at this fellow adventurer, knowing we were both rare individuals among travelers, sealed the deal that my expectations of myself as a moto camper were unfair and unrealistic. I shrugged off the unnecessary emotional weight right there on the shore of Beech Fork Lake.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Beech Fork Lake
The sun rising above the mist on Beech Fork Lake was the perfect send-off on my final day in West Virginia.

If you need permission to ditch staunch expectations about what type of person you should be to travel on your motorcycle, take it from me: You are enough, just as you are.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

West Virginia Motorcycle Ride Resources

The post Lessons Learned on a Wandering West Virginia Motorcycle Ride appeared first on Rider Magazine.

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride on Crowley’s Ridge | Favorite Ride

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride Crowley's Ridge
On top of Crowley’s Ridge you will find a variety of roads running past farms and through wooded landscapes. It’s a different kind of Arkansas motorcycle ride.

Pancake flat. That’s an accurate description for most of Arkansas’ Mississippi River Delta. The delta contains historically interesting and culturally significant places to visit, but it’s also home to a unique geological feature that offers a great Arkansas motorcycle ride through beautiful, heavily forested landscapes. This geological feature is called Crowley’s Ridge, and it rises as much as 550 feet above the fertile delta farmland.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride Crowley's Ridge

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

Toward the end of the last ice age, the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio rivers shifted 190 miles north into Illinois. This change left a 150-mile-long, 15-mile-wide motorcycle playground in the middle of an otherwise flat delta, 110 miles of which is in Arkansas.

To most travelers on Interstate 40 between Little Rock and Memphis, Crowley’s Ridge is an easy-to-miss rise in elevation. But for those looking for an enjoyable Arkansas motorcycle ride, you can find serpentine pavement by traveling the length of the ridge. Mix in the delta’s historic and cultural sites, and a tour of Crowley’s Ridge becomes an attractive proposition.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride Crowley's Ridge
Roads with broad sweepers wind their way along the top of Crowley’s Ridge.

A riding buddy visiting from Florida, Matt Terry, and I began our tour of Crowley’s Ridge on its southern end, in Helena. Here, the ridge begins in dramatic fashion, overlooking the city’s riverfront on the Mississippi.

Helena was an important site during the Civil War. Fort Curtis is located halfway up the ridge above Helena’s downtown. It was coveted – and occupied at different times – by both Confederate troops and Union soldiers. The fort could effectively control boat traffic up and down the river for whomever held this important high ground.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride Crowley's Ridge
Crowley’s Ridge goes through the Arkansas Delta, and cotton is one of the main crops farmed there.

On Cherry Street in downtown Helena is the Delta Cultural Center, which celebrates the rich history of the delta and is home to the KFFA King Biscuit Time studio, where the daily 12:15 p.m. broadcast is made. King Biscuit Time began in 1941 and became an important venue in the development of the delta’s many African American blues musicians. It also happens to be the longest-running broadcast program in the nation, and blues fans from around the world travel to Helena to attend live broadcasts of this historic show.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride Crowley's Ridge Bill Dragoo Delta Cultural Center KFFA 1360
ADV rider Bill Dragoo traded his BMW’s saddle for a seat at the KFAA studio at the Delta Cultural Center in Helena.

From Helena, we rode north along the eastern edge of the ridge on Arkansas Highway 44. If you’re a fan of Food Network, then you probably know that winning the culinary world’s prestigious James Beard Award is akin to winning an Oscar or a Grammy. Arkansas’ first James Beard Award winner was Harold Jones, and his family restaurant is in Marianna.

The Jones family started the Hole-in-the-Wall around 1910. The name was changed to Jones Bar-B-Q Diner in 1964, when it moved from downtown to its current location on West Louisiana Street. The small dining room has only one large table and one small table, so takeout is popular.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride Crowley's Ridge Jones B-B-Q Diner Marianna
Riders relaxing after chowing down on pulled pork in the tiny dining room at Jones Bar-B-Q Diner in Marianna. Below

“Mr. Harold,” as locals call him, serves any kind of barbecue you want – as long as it’s pulled pork, either in a sandwich or by the pound. His great-grandmother’s sauce recipe, which dates to Civil War times, is a thin, sweet vinegar-based sauce that’s delicious on their sandwiches, which are served on white bread with or without coleslaw.

We continued north on AR 1 and 1B. Just south of Forrest City, we enjoyed a twisty out-and-back spur on AR 334. North of Forrest City on AR 1 is Colt, birthplace of the “Silver Fox,” Grammy Award-winning singer Charlie Rich. We bypassed Colt, curving and cornering our way northeast on AR 284. The road runs through a landscape reminiscent of my home in the Ozarks, with nice sweepers and scenic, heavily wooded terrain.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride Crowley's Ridge
Matt enjoys one of the ridge’s sweeping curves.

After riding along the western edge of Village Creek State Park, we jogged east on County Road 720 and then went north again on AR 163, a mostly winding and always scenic highway. We made our way northwest to Vanndale so we could enjoy the curves of AR 364 on our way back to AR 163.

From Birdeye, we rode west on AR 42 to Cherry Valley, bending around curves nearly the entire way. For another musical connection, you can take AR 42 east from Birdeye to the tiny delta community of Twist, where blues legend B.B. King first named his Gibson guitar “Lucille.”

King was playing a gig at a juke joint in Twist when two men began fighting and overturned a kerosene heater, setting the building ablaze. Two patrons were killed. King rushed back into the inferno to retrieve his Gibson and realized he, too, could have died.

From that point on, King named all his guitars Lucille to remind himself of two things: First, never go back into a burning building to save a guitar. Second, no woman is worth fighting over. (The two men were fighting over a woman named Lucille.) A commemorative plaque marks the spot.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride Crowley's Ridge
A Honda PC800 tested the sport part of its sport-touring designation on a tight curve on top of the ridge.

We stayed on AR 163 for quite a while, eventually reconnecting with AR 1B just south of Jonesboro. We rode north out of Jonesboro on AR 141, which runs along the western side of the ridge. Though it’s not on the top of the ridge, it is a scenic ride along the seam between the delta and Crowley’s Ridge.

At Walcott, we turned northeast to Crowley’s Ridge State Park, the former homestead of Benjamin Crowley, an early settler in the area and namesake for the ridge. His property became an Arkansas state park in the 1930s, and it offers cabins, camping, hiking trails, picnic facilities, a swimming lake, and a native stone CCC-era pavilion.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride Crowley's Ridge State Park Wishing Well Flume
The Wishing Well Flume runs into Lake Ponder at Crowley’s Ridge State Park.

Arkansas is one of those states where more famous riding areas in the Ozarks overshadow hidden gems like Crowley’s Ridge. The roads may not be as steep and the curves not as sharp, but they provide plenty of enjoyment. There are also numerous secondary roads, both paved and unpaved, which make the area great for adventure touring. Add in the rich cultural and musical history of the area and you’ve got a winning destination.

Arkansas Motorcycle Ride: Crowley’s Ridge Resources

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Source: RiderMagazine.com

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride: Exploring Mammoth Cave and Bowling Green

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride Mammoth Cave National Park Kawasaki Versys-X 300
My fully loaded Kawasaki Versys-X 300 was a trooper on this Kentucky motorcycle ride.

It’s funny how sometimes the best parts of a motorcycle trip have nothing to do with the destination or even the motorcycle. One such moment on a recent Kentucky motorcycle ride involved me relaxing in a hammock under the shade of a tarp, a little sunburnt and a lot exhausted, dozing off for a much-needed nap.

Why was I so exhausted? Hours of walking – first through the woods amidst sinkholes and springs, then deep underground at Mammoth Cave National Park. 

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

The Ride Down

From my home in northern Kentucky, I rode south to Frankfort, the state capital, which has a historic downtown reminiscent of many of the small Kentucky cities that punctuate the farmland and curvy roads in this area.

See all of Rider‘s Kentucky touring stories here.

To fortify myself for the ride to Mammoth Cave, I stopped at Main Street Diner, a ’50s-themed restaurant with checkered floors, colorful decor, and vinyl records in the jukebox. It serves a tasty and satisfying plate of biscuits and gravy, one of my favorite road foods. With historic buildings, colorful murals, and interesting shops and restaurants, Frankfort’s well-preserved downtown area is attractive and vibrant.

An hour and a half of riding through rolling hills landed me in Campbellsville. The day was quickly warming up, so I stopped at Harden Coffee to cool off with an iced chai latte and relax in the calm, quiet cafe.

After another hour of riding, I arrived at Mammoth Cave National Park’s visitor center – always my first stop on trips like this. I can’t count how many interesting trails, roads, and sightseeing opportunities I’ve discovered by speaking to the knowledgeable rangers at visitor centers in state and national parks. They know more than the internet and the brochures combined, and they’re more than happy to share their insights with curious travelers.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride Mammoth Cave National Park
My campsite at Mammoth Cave National Park was surrounded by trees and felt pleasantly secluded.

With a marked-up map of treasures in hand, I arrived at my campsite and set up camp. My neighbor and his young daughter expressed their awe of how much gear I had fit in the 170-plus liters of storage space on my Kawasaki Versys-X 300. In campgrounds, people may stare, but they rarely talk to the odd solo woman on her motorcycle, so the conversation was welcome.

After the ride and setting up camp, I was too tired to venture far to find actual firewood. I purchased some compressed sawdust “logs” at the cute and convenient camp store nearby, allowing me to enjoy a campfire before bedtime.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride
Rok Straps are indispensable for securing cargo, such as when I needed to transport compressed sawdust “logs” from the store to my campsite.

Hiking Through the Forest and Touring Underground

First on my agenda was to hike some of the trails in Mammoth Cave National Park. While the park is best known for its extensive underground cave system, I had to give the trails aboveground a chance too.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride Mammoth Cave National Park
Descending to the entrance of Mammoth Cave takes visitors to another world that’s as massive as its name implies.

With names like Sinkhole, Green River Bluffs, and Echo Springs, I was looking forward to seeing what unique features would exist on the trails in this area. Most of them were paved or gravel, which aren’t my favorite surfaces to hike on, but they’re accessible to most walkers – a benefit to anyone looking for an easy hike. I was able to view rock formations, sinkholes, and a spring that arises from within the cave system itself. I saw wildflowers exploding in bloom and several different vantage points of the Green River, which runs into the cave system (and whose eroding properties ultimately created the cave itself). 

Soon after, I had the opportunity to take one of the many options for cave tours offered by the park. I chose the Extended Historic tour, a 2.25-hour hike through 2 miles of the main parts of Mammoth Cave. I’m glad I booked in advance because when I arrived, almost every tour for the day was sold out. 

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride Mammoth Cave National Park
The inside of the cave greets you with both wide and tall passageways.

A blissful 54 degrees underground felt great after my sweaty, sunny hike to the visitor center, where the cave tours begin. Learning about the cave was fascinating. Mammoth Cave is the longest cave system in the world, with over 400 miles mapped and possibly more than 600 miles yet to be explored. Scientists and researchers uncover new passages nearly every day. Over thousands of years, the cave has been used by Native Americans, soldiers in the War of 1812, slaves, and even a failed tuberculosis clinic. Now its main purpose is to entertain and educate tourists who travel through its dark recesses.

After the tour, I rode into nearby Cave City, past dozens of billboards for other caves and attractions in the area. There were many options to choose from, but I was hungry, so I stopped at a restaurant called 5 Broke Girls. I am not exaggerating that they make the best onion rings I’ve ever tasted – and a mean patty melt too. I’ll stop there again when I’m in the area.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride 5 Broke Girls
The patty melt and onion rings at 5 Broke Girls were amazing.

My next stop was Market KY, a bright and colorful shop with a fun assortment of candies and treats, as well as a wall of stickers and a myriad of T-shirt options. A few boutique sweets might have found their way into my saddlebag.

Overburdened on My Kentucky Motorcycle Ride

Back at camp, I was struggling. I was once told that every item you bring on a motorcycle camping trip is a burden. I never really understood this. If the item is useful and offers you shelter or sleep or sustenance, how could it be a burden?

I learned my lesson on this trip. With my new Givi luggage, it was easy to pack my bike to the gills. This exhausted me in two ways. For one, my kit was heavy, and this meant all my low-speed maneuvers felt sluggish and I was easily thrown off-balance. I hate dreading the process of parking or making a U-turn, preferring to be as nimble and light as possible. 

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride
In hindsight, while many of my camping items were nice to have, some of them weren’t necessary.

Secondly, unpacking and sorting through a pile of gadgets and trinkets to find that one spatula I brought or that collapsible bowl that I ended up forgetting to use when I simply ate out of the dehydrated food package was frustrating and time-consuming.

Finally, I was tired of zippers! Moving my wallet or keys from a zippered pocket of a jacket to a different zippered pocket of my tankbag and back again was tiresome, and I had to repeatedly double check where things were. I hate that panicked moment when you reach into a pocket and the item isn’t there, only to find it in a different pocket moments later.

I ended up going through the trusty things I always use and setting them out front and center, while putting superfluous items aside. This helped ease my frustration, and now that I understand the idea of items burdening us more than I did before, I will be packing much lighter next time.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride
This underground river has a small but beautiful dripping waterfall.

Back on the Road

It had been a minute since I had ridden more than just to a restaurant and back, and this was a Kentucky motorcycle ride after all. At the visitor center the day before, the ranger had shown me various roads on the map, so I set off to ride one of them: Mammoth Cave Parkway. The speed limit was only 35 mph, so there wasn’t a lot of opportunity to enthusiastically traverse the many curves. One thing I did enjoy, however, was the lovely drop in temperature in this area. It was a welcome reprieve from the hotter conditions elsewhere.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride Mammoth Cave Parkway
The curves of Mammoth Cave Parkway are fun to ride, but the 35-mph speed limit reduces the thrill.

The next day, I rode to Bowling Green, a bustling small city about 30 miles from Mammoth Cave National Park. I stopped in the historic downtown and enjoyed views of Fountain Square Park, which was surrounded by boutiques, a theater, and the Meltdown ice cream shop. Resistance to frozen treats is futile.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride Bowling Green
Fountain Square Park is in the heart of Bowling Green.

Meltdown offers house-made ice cream in unique flavors like brown sugar chocolate chip and dump cake (a Southern amalgamation of pineapple, cherries, yellow cake mix, and butter). I’ve had dump cake many times, and putting it in ice cream elevated it to new heights. I savored a sweet scoop on a bench near buzzing bumblebees that were enjoying their own treat of some purple flowers.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride Bowling Green
The Capitol, a historic theater in downtown Bowling Green, is across the street from Fountain Square Park.

Bowling Green is where Chevrolet Corvettes are produced, and it’s home to the National Corvette Museum. Although I had been to the NCM Motorsports Park racetrack, which is located across Interstate 65 from the museum, for motorcycle track days, I had never been inside the museum. I spent over an hour looking at exhibits, such as a cross-section of the third Corvette ever created, powerful racecars, the iconic Batmobile, and even the remnants of a sinkhole that happened at the museum in 2014.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride National Corvette Museum Bowling Green
The exterior of the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green features a sculpture of a classic ’Vette.

This natural disaster damaged eight Corvettes, one of which was estimated to be worth $750,000. While the damage had been cleaned up, markings on the floor showed the vast size of the sinkhole – over 40 feet wide – and a plexiglass panel on the floor showed the bottom of the sinkhole, 30 feet below my feet. Standing there was both eerie and exhilarating.

Before leaving, I ate at the museum’s restaurant, the Stingray Grill. It wasn’t your usual cafeteria-style grill but rather a swanky eatery with nice decor and even better food. I can add “blackberry bacon grilled cheese” to the list of delicious foods I’ve tried. 

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride National Corvette Museum Bowling Green
Corvette fans will love the depth and breadth of the museum’s exhibits.

Finding a Lost River

The final thing on my list for Bowling Green was what initially drew me to this area in the first place: the Lost River Cave. Although much smaller than Mammoth Cave, as its name implies, Lost River Cave has a river leading into it, and the owners run an underground boat tour.

A lost river is a waterway that flows into a cave or underground passageway. I was fascinated by the idea of floating into a cave, so I hopped into the small pontoon boat and listened to my charming tour guide tell the history of this cave.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride
The Lost Cave boat tour was a unique way to experience an underground river.

Having changed hands many times over the years, the cave’s worst fate was when it was filled with trash, and perhaps its best was when it was a secret nightclub during Prohibition. I was content with its current life as a touristy but fun and engaging tour. It was thrilling to duck under the low ceiling at the entrance to the cave and float along the dam inside that was built to keep the water in. 

The next day, it was that bittersweet time to pack up and leave, thus ending this particular Kentucky motorcycle ride. I had a great experience at the national park and exploring Cave City and Bowling Green. I also enjoyed the downtime, especially that nap in my hammock on the day I ventured into Mammoth Cave. Over the short span of just a few days, I had hiked at ground level in forests and museums, walked underground in cool and dark caves, floated along a lost river, and even hovered 30 feet above a sinkhole. This trip had a little bit of everything, and I look forward to coming back.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride Bowling Green
Downtown Bowling Green is a charming blend of old and new.

Kentucky Motorcycle Ride Resources

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Source: RiderMagazine.com

How the West was Won: Finishing the TransAmerica Trail

We published Dave Scott’s story about riding the TransAmerica Trail from North Carolina to Colorado in our November 2022 Adventure Issue and on our website here, and it ended with an emergency evacuation at 13,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains. This is Part 2. –Ed.


TransAmerica Trail part 2
Before resuming the TAT, we did a shakedown run on Last Dollar Road near Telluride, Colorado.

Breaking my leg near 13,114-foot Imogene Pass was probably the best thing that happened to me on the TransAmerica Trail. Had I made it over the summit, I probably would have died falling down the other side. That was my thinking as I cruised into Telluride, Colorado, a year later to resume the TAT where I had left off.

TransAmerica Trail part 2

Back in the Saddle on the TransAmerica Trail

After my crash on the TAT, it took six months before I could walk without crutches or a cane. Even a year later, I still had a limp and took stairs slowly. During my convalescence, I had plenty of time to reflect on my TAT experience. Instead of a solo effort like before, I would have my buddy Nathen shadow me in my Jeep and pop-up trailer. We would stay in touch via satellite communicators, and he would be setting up camp and carrying spares, gas, gear, and beer. This would allow me to ride my KTM 500 EXC unencumbered by heavy, hard-to-balance gear.

Since I was laid up in the hospital after my crash with my leg put back together with metal screws and plates, I paid a local guy to recover my KTM from Imogene Pass.

TransAmerica Trail part 2 Imogene Pass
Imogene Pass – the highest point on the trail and the alpha and omega of my journey.

Nearly a year after my fateful tumble, I drove my Jeep and trailer to Grand Junction, where the bike had remained untouched in a friend’s garage. Nathen flew in from Philadelphia, and we loaded the bike into the trailer and drove down to Montrose, where the KTM got an overhaul. Near Telluride, Nathen and I did a shakedown run on Last Dollar Road, an unpaved scenic byway.

The next day, I resumed my TAT journey by riding up to Imogene Pass and a little beyond to the exact spot where I had fallen and ended my first attempt. I had been told that the hardest part of the route to the pass was the 20-mile eastern approach from Ouray. The western approach from Telluride was only about 6 miles; a guy told me his friend did it in a Subaru. I naively figured I’d head up and be back in time for lunch. However, about halfway up, near to the abandoned mining town of Tomboy, the route turned treacherous, and once more, I was pushed to ride beyond my capabilities.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
One of Colorado’s high-elevation off-road routes.

At the time of my crash a year earlier, I was in top TAT shape. I had been on the bike almost two months at that point, having traversed half the continent and crossed over the Great Divide. This time, I was carrying enough hardware in my legs that a hard fall would have it all poking through my skin like a porcupine. Moreover, last time, after surviving one trail atrocity or another, I could say to myself, “Well, I’ll never do that again.” This time I was burdened with the knowledge that I would have to go back down the same way I was going up. If I fell down and broke my leg again – and I almost did! – absolutely no one, not even my mother, would feel sorry for me. I took it all slowly and managed to make it back down to Telluride in one piece. 

All Downhill from Here

From Imogene Pass back down, I was on the TransAmerica Trail again. I followed GPSKevin’s route from Telluride to Utah, where I rejoined Sam Correro’s route. (See “TAT? Which TAT?” sidebar in the first installment of the TransAmerica Trail story.) The weather was great and the scenery was awesome.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
Utah is the most awesome – and most challenging – part of the TAT.

In Utah, just south of Monticello, wishing to avoid the long desert bits that would push the limits of my gas tank’s capacity, I switched over to the Backcountry Discovery Route (BDR), following it all the way through Moab and up the eastern edge of Utah into Wyoming. We set up a series of checkpoints where I would communicate to Nathen whenever I crossed a major road. That way, if I ran into trouble, he’d know where to start looking for me.

Our first night of camping was at Warner Lake State Campground, which sits at 9,400 feet in the La Sal Mountains near Moab. I was getting reacquainted with my KTM, enjoying its unladen lightness, and having Nathen waiting for me at a prepared campsite with steaks and beer was even better than I imagined it would be.

I had naively thought that once I left Colorado’s San Juan range, the rest of the TAT would be easier. Of course, I was wrong. Many of the BDR sections in Utah require serious enduro skills to get over and through sand, rocks, and steep ledges. Since hitting Moab, I was having three or four near-death experiences a day, and I was starting to get a little PTSD because of it.

TransAmerica Trail part 2 Bear Lake
Bear Lake, straddling Utah and Idaho, was a welcome place to catch our breath after days in the high country.

I don’t know what guys with those big ol’ Winnebago adventure bikes do when the trail gets so steep that you mostly see just sky out of your peripheral vision while you careen downhill, your gear riding on the small of your back, your feet pressing on the pegs to keep your crotch from shoving the tankbag into the handlebar, feeling that handlebar flex, moving faster than your engine can brake you, when even a glance at the front brake might tuck the front end and the only thing between you and oblivion is a little tap-tap-tap-tap on the rear brake, none of which slows you much when you hit one of those 14-foot switchback drops where you have to do a 180-degree slide turn right at the exact spot where water and gravel collect on that part of the bobsled run. 

And if the trail is not solid rock with smaller rocks piled on, it’s sandy shale with 10-inch water ruts running parallel and diagonally down the slope, overlooking a canyon with broken trees and whitewater rapids roaring hundreds of feet below. It’s not if but when you will fall. When you do, Mr. Adventure Bike, if you don’t die or wreck your bike, can you pick it all up and get back on? I’m not talking about lifting the 500-lb beast in your driveway first thing in the morning but rather picking it up on a steep slope of shale, nose-down, in the late afternoon, far from home, when darkness looms and every delay means further loss of light, when your arms feel like wet spaghetti and your knee or ankle is sprained and your ribs hurt when you breathe, which comes out as a gasping wheeze anyway because of the altitude. 

Then it’s another trick to get back on that tall-ass bike – and harder still to start it and get going again. Unlike that time in Colorado when I somehow entered a mystical fugue state and glided over some rough patches, in Utah I wasn’t picked up by Charon and ferried across the River Styx.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
Heavy traffic in the summer adds to the difficulty of Colorado’s high-elevation off-road routes.

Out of My Hands

After being so tense for so long, I finally numbed out, held on, and let the bike figure out how to get down the mountain on its own. I accepted that I was probably going to fall every day no matter what. Thankfully, I had good quality body armor, gloves, boots, and helmet, all of which had been tested and held up, even to the point when the bones beneath them gave way.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
Much of Utah and the Great Basin required careful navigation.

My denouement arrived when I came face-to-face with a downhill flume that appeared to be made entirely of bowling balls. Partway down the slope, my front tire got stuck between two boulders, leaving me holding everything upright on tippy toes on a third boulder, with the clutch pulled in and about 75 more yards of steep bowling balls to go.

Well, I did my part, was my last thought as I kicked the front tire loose. Gravity and the KTM took me up over a boulder and down into the bowling alley. I hit a big rock head-on, bounced backward, and rolled over it. Then another and another, like bumper cars on a slope, bouncing and hitting and banging my way downhill.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
It was a clear night when we free-camped on the prairie, and we saw millions of stars.

After a long day of nothing but rocks, it was dusk before I made it to camp. When I got there, the tent was set up but nothing else: no food on the barbecue, no cold beer, no smiling face to greet me. Nathen was curled up in his sleeping bag, unconscious. I was frustrated but figured he must have altitude sickness, so it was an MRE for dinner and an early campfire alone.

The next morning was freezing cold, and for the first time, I was not excited to greet the TAT. We were in the Uinta Mountains, in Utah’s panhandle east of Salt Lake City, among 10,000-feet-plus Bald Mountain and Hayden Peak, surrounded by alpine lakes. It was some of the most spectacular scenery I’ve seen anywhere in the world, the air perfumed by pine. I mostly remember that part of the trip like a dream.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
During the summer, some campgrounds – like this one in the La Sal Mountains near Moab, Utah – need to be booked well in advance.

The trail moved past towering ridges and undulating high prairie as I crisscrossed between the borders of Utah and Wyoming, ultimately popping down to Bear Lake, where Nathen had already prepared camp. We stayed there for two days to recharge, sleeping most of the second day. 

TransAmerica Trail part 2
Having a chase vehicle to haul gear and a companion to help out – and greet me with a frosty beer and grilled steak at the end of each day – was a game changer.
TransAmerica Trail part 2
Having a buddy along was a game changer, but it was a challenge to maintain communication and keep the Jeep – and Nathen – functioning.

Cousins to the Rescue

As luck would have it, the BDR folks blazed a connecting trail from Utah to its Idaho route that perfectly synched me back up with Correro’s TransAmerica Trail. At Balancing Rock, I left the TAT to follow the original Oregon Trail. One of the highlights of my cross-country journey was tracing the wagon-wheel ruts of America’s pioneers. I navigated my own dirt route to Three Island State Park – a major obstacle for covered wagons in those times – where I picked up Idaho’s state-run Main Oregon Trail Backcountry Byway, a 100-mile dirt route that ends at Bonneville Point.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
This 102-mile byway follows the wagon ruts of the pioneers on the Oregon Trail.

Nathen and I headed southwest to Melba, Idaho, where my cousins Calvin and Corrina live. We faced double jeopardy: Nathen, who had been listless for days, couldn’t get out of bed, and we had mechanical issues with the Jeep. We took Nathen to urgent care, where he was diagnosed with Lyme disease, usually contracted through a tick bite. I felt bad that I had pushed and prodded him to keep moving; I thought he was just malingering. Nathen flew home to Philly, and I left the Jeep with a mechanic and my trailer with Calvin and Corrina and reconfigured the KTM so I could finish the TAT how I started a year ago: solo and unassisted.

Through Fire and Brimstone to the Sea

The Pacific Ocean Spur of Correro’s TAT skirts the desolate Great Basin, which worried me because of my limited gas range. A full day’s riding took me the farthest I had gone without refueling since leaving Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. When my engine started to sputter dry, I discovered that my fuel bladder was empty after part of it melted on the KTM’s exhaust pipe – fortunately it hadn’t ignited! Luckily, I was already on blacktop coming down from the mountains, so I pulled in the clutch and coasted into a gas station in the little frontier town of Canyon City, Oregon.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
Some of the more remote areas were dead quiet.

With the desert behind me and milder mountains ahead, I faced an obstacle that almost ended my ride. The Devil’s Knob Complex Fire was raging uncontrolled and spreading, and the TAT ran right through the middle of it. I spent the night in a motel near the fire zone and plotted a route farther south toward Crater Lake. However, the fire shifted overnight, and I ended up needing a park ranger escort through a recently burned area. It was sobering to see the melted roadway and burned-up husks of what used to be a forest. The air smelled like charcoal.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
Forest fires have the potential to ruin a TAT journey. Stay connected to track forest fires.

The rest of the day was one frustration after another as I navigated my way around the fire. When I got back on pavement, it was dark, and I was almost out of gas. I hit a few miles of Interstate 5, the first freeway I had been on since I started the trip. The experience was surreal. I saw more people than I had in days, sharing three lanes with all sorts of vehicles, the wind from passing semis buffeting my laden dirtbike.

I spent my last night of the TAT at the Wolf Creek Inn. Built in 1883, it’s the oldest continuously operated hotel in the Pacific Northwest – and reputedly one of the most haunted places in Oregon. Arising early the next morning, I was full of energy, ready to embark on the final leg of my trip-of-a-lifetime, the culmination of a two-year journey that started on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
Be careful when camping in bear-prone areas, especially if this guy is around.
TransAmerica Trail part 2
Many parts of the TAT pass through grazing areas and have gates to open and close.

A Great Last Day on the TransAmerica Trail

It was a beautiful day amidst magnificent scenery, and I wanted to savor every minute of every mile. I took a little country road excursion to Golden, a well-preserved ghost town, and farther along, after the road turned to dirt, I hoped to blaze a trail down to the TAT. What seemed like a good idea turned out to be a self-inflicted ordeal, and I ended up bushwhacking and nearly succumbing to a hostile blackberry bush.

It was almost noon when I got my last tank of gas. Throughout the entire trip, I had gotten only one flat tire, back in Tennessee. The experience had cost me an entire day, so when I had new tires mounted in Colorado, I had the shop install a bib mousse in the front tire instead of a tube. That puncture-proof doughnut of foam probably prevented multiple flats when I was bouncing from rock to rock like a pinball in Utah. However, at the end of the trail, it went from being merely squishy to downright flat with about 60 more miles to go.

TransAmerica Trail part 2 Three Island Crossing
Three Island Crossing was the make-or-break obstacle for many pioneers on the Oregon Trail. From there it’s due west to the Pacific.

I still needed to traverse the coastal Siskiyou Range, and the trail zigzagged from the treeline down to the Rogue River, then back up and down again, repeatedly. Because of the flat front tire, I kept my speed around 20 mph and took hundreds of turns as square as possible.

Still, it was a great day. The countryside was like a greatest hits album of the whole TAT. Along the Rogue River, the thick deciduous trees reminded me of Appalachia. Climbing into the mountains, the pines, chapparal, and vistas were emblematic of the West. In between were dank, moss-covered redwoods that heralded the Pacific. And I saw more wildlife than on any other stretch of the whole trip: elk, deer, a bear cub, a beaver, and an eagle.

TransAmerica Trail part 2 Shoshone Falls
Shoshone Falls on the Snake River near Twin Falls, Idaho, is not directly on the TAT, but it is a worthy detour.

At the rate I was going, it was going to be a stretch to make it to the coast before dark. But somewhere up in the mountains when the road forked, there was a sign in the direction I was going that said “COAST.” That recharged me, but it was hours later before I finally rounded a tree-lined corner and came upon U.S. Route 101. I was met with a cold blast of wind and the open ocean. Just like that the GPS route ended, and the TransAmerica Trail was over.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
It was heartening to see this sign on my last day of the TAT.

It was a few miles south on 101 to Port Orford, the most westerly town in the lower 48 states. I hugged the shoulder to ride slow enough to keep my tire together and not get run over. Orford is a fishing entrepot exposed to the rough sea. I found access down to the beach for the ritual dunking of my front wheel in the Pacific, as I had done in the Atlantic when I started my trip more than a year ago.

The wind was strong, the sand was soft, and the tide was coming in quickly. It was all I could do to take off my gloves for a selfie and keep my bike upright. About a foot and a half of water rushed over me, soaking my boots and burying my rims. It was tricky to get out of there, and with that flat front tire, I barely made it back up the eroded slippery cliff to the main road.

TransAmerica Trail part 2
It damn sure wasn’t easy, but I finally made it to the Pacific.

I rode back to a dock where there was a little shack that looked like a bar. The cranes were hauling up the last boats of the day as I pulled up to the fisherman’s tavern, leaned my bike against a post, and shut off the engine. That’s when the enormity of the whole thing washed over me.

Stuffing my gloves in my helmet, I pushed open the door, and yelled out the coolest thing ever emitted from my lips: “Hey everybody! I just rode across America on a dirtbike!”

TransAmerica Trail part 2 Port Orford
One of the best days of my life included celebratory beers and oysters at this fisherman’s bar in Port Orford.

I ordered a mug of beer, a dozen oysters, and a flounder sandwich. After a second beer, when I asked for the check, I was told that one of the other patrons had covered my tab. Later, I was the only guest in a little redwoods lodge, where I watched the sunset from a hot tub, with a bottle of champagne at my side.

Listen to Dave Scott’s unfiltered tale of his entire TAT adventure in Episodes 46, 48, and 50 of the Rider Magazine Insider Podcast.

The post How the West was Won: Finishing the TransAmerica Trail appeared first on Rider Magazine.

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Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail | Favorite Ride

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail Honda Africa Twin
Parts of the TWAT wind through farmland.

As I reached for the pump handle to fill up at the start of this trip, I suddenly realized my hydration pack wasn’t on my back. Doubt flooded in, and I wondered if this trip on the Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail was a bad idea. After returning home to retrieve my pack, I scolded myself for failing right out of the gate.

The Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail is also known as the TWAT, a term I use for “one who tweets” and the British use for an obnoxious person. Though not a term one hears in polite company, this TWAT is a 635-mile dual-sport and adventure motorcycle route that runs from the Illinois/Wisconsin border in the south to the shore of Lake Superior in the north. There are no maps of the route, but you can download a free GPX track at the Trans Wisconsin Trail website.

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

The TWAT was to be my first time riding off-road. What was I thinking?

To prepare myself, I binged hours of off-road riding instruction on YouTube by Bret Tkacs, Dusty Wessels, and Eric Lange. Their tips and techniques came back to me when I needed them most. YouTube was also my tutor for what to pack. I’d watch a video, hit pause, and click over to Amazon to load up my cart. I felt like a kid on Christmas opening boxes and setting up fake camp in my backyard to try out everything.

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail Honda Africa Twin
My Honda Africa Twin was the perfect bike for the 635-mile trek across Wisconsin.

The Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail starts just south of Hazel Green, Wisconsin. I rode past the gravel road near “The Point of Beginning” historical marker on State Route 80 twice before realizing it was my starting point. There was no sign for the TWAT, but the route I had uploaded to the REVER app indicated I was in the right place. My adventure had begun!

See all of Rider‘s Wisconsin touring stories here.

Day 1: Dirt Legs

The standard advice is to run knobbies on an adventure route, but after all the money I’d spent on gear, I figured replacing the perfectly good 90/10 tires on my Honda Africa Twin would tip Mrs. Trimble over the edge. Rather than make camping a permanent situation, I opted to use my existing rubber.

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail Honda Africa Twin
The trail is lush in spring and summer.

The first day had the most pavement of the three. Intermittent road stretches were a welcome break for a novice like me. The limited traction off-road was unnerving, so the grippy bits helped relieve the tension. Hour by hour, my confidence and skills improved.

The Midwest is renowned for its flat landscape and laser-straight roads, which results from most of the region being scraped clean by glaciers during the last ice age. But there’s a small territory where Wisconsin, Minnesota, Iowa, and Illinois meet that was not covered by ice and thus lacks glacial deposits known as drift. Known as the Driftless Area, this playground of hills, ridges, valleys, and rock formations was a highlight of Day 1.

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail Honda Africa Twin
Arriving at a campground like this makes a long day on the trail worthwhile.

The first day also took me over the Mississippi River for some riding in Iowa, which is a little odd for a route across Wisconsin, but the ride through the Yellow River State Forest made it worthwhile. After crossing back into Wisconsin, I rode through the Rush Creek State Natural Area.

I spent my first night camping in Soldiers Grove, right in town at Beauford T. Anderson Park. Stomach issues had me in and out of my tent all night, and dew made everything inside unpleasantly damp. As the sun rose, I hung my things up to dry. Drinking instant coffee from my Jet-Boil, I questioned my decision to camp, which led to more second-guessing about the entire adventure. I rolled out of town disgusted by how soft I had become.

See all of Rider‘s Northeast U.S. touring stories here.

Day 2: Attitude of Gratitude

The next day, I felt more comfortable riding off-road, and gratitude soon replaced despair. The trail meandered through hills covered in baby-head-sized rocks and water-filled bottoms that hid all sorts of bar-yanking surprises. Wrestling my Africa Twin along trails in the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest left me drenched with sweat.

When I poked out onto a paved road, the sun was getting low, and I worried about finding a hotel. A half-mile down the road, I passed a sign for Chippewa Campground, which was on my must-visit list. Rather than suffer self-flagellation in a hotel room, I opted to camp. Two days of riding had me so beat that I dropped my bike while trying to lower the kickstand.

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail Honda Africa Twin Chippewa Campground
Late afternoon sunlight shines on the lake and filters through the trees at Chippewa Campground.

The campground’s coin-operated shower revived me. For $2 in change, the sweat and dirt disappeared down the drain while the satisfaction of completing two days of off-road exploration lingered. I strolled to a gas station for a six-pack and a cup of ice that I filled with Jameson. That night by the campfire, I felt like a new man. A sense of accomplishment and a nice Irish whiskey buzz made for a more enjoyable night in the woods.

Day 3: Enter Sandman

The third day on the Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail called for sand, which had seemed treacherous on the YouTube training videos. So far, I’d only taken a few dabs and no falls, so I expected this to be my day to eat humble pie. Not far in, I experienced my first tank slapper after putting too much weight on the front wheel. Rather than panic, I drew upon the wisdom of my YouTube tutors – Don’t cut the power abruptly; Lean back and give it gas; Ride it out until the bike stabilizes – and I recovered. Soon I was sitting back against my dry bag and flying through the sugary stuff without a care in the world. 

At a stop for gas, I asked the attendant how far it was to the Delta Diner. He said it was about an hour away, so I bought some beef jerky to hold me over. Because I was on the TWAT and not driving by car, it took three hours before I finlly pulled off the trail at the diner, a chrome-and-neon oasis in the middle of nowhere.

The parking lot was empty except for an older couple gearing up to climb back on their BMWs. After removing my sweaty gear and helmet, I nodded to them as I headed for the door. As I reached the top step, the lady said, “They’re closed.” What a gut punch. I was tired and hungry, and for hours I had been fantasizing about a juicy burger with a side of fries and an ice-cold Coke. Dry jerky and warm, plastic-tasting water from my hydration pack was a poor substitute.

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail Honda Africa Twin Delta Diner
As a big fan of classic diners, it broke my heart (and pained my stomach) to find the Delta Diner closed. I’ll be back.

North of Delta, I crossed U.S. Route 2 and entered the final stretch. After riding through the Moquah Barrens State Natural Area, I rolled through the town of Cornucopia. A few more county roads later, I arrived at a dirt cul-de-sac by the Point Detour Campground near Apostle Islands National Lakeshore. A faint trail led into the woods and came out at a dilapidated set of stairs down to Lake Superior, and I worked my way to the rocky shore.

As I sat smoking the cigar I saved for the occasion, I felt humbled by the setting and the moment. I had overcome self-doubt, completed my journey, and even learned to love sand.

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail
At the end of the trail on Lake Superior, with views of the Apostle Islands.

Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail Resources:

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

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National Parks, Alpine Passes, and The Bard: A Southern Utah Motorcycle Ride

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Zion National Park
The subtle, pastel hues of southern Utah’s sedimentary rock formations meld seamlessly with the complementary shades of the asphalt in Zion National Park.

While I waited for my steaming calzone to cool in the pizza restaurant in the tiny town of Orderville, Utah, and contemplated my impending southern Utah motorcycle ride, I studied the giant world map on the wall. A sign encouraged visitors to place a stickpin in the map to indicate their home. The colorful plastic balls that served as pinheads reflected an impressive worldwide span, with a truly remarkable density in most of the United States.

Southern Utah’s Dixie National Forest and the area’s national parks have a magnetic appeal for hundreds of thousands of visitors each year. For me, the promise of incredible scenery and winding roads drew me to the region on my trusty BMW. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

Day 1: Zion, a Massacre, and Shakespeare

After a good night’s sleep in a comfortable and unique forest-themed room at the historic Parkway Motel in Orderville, I geared up and headed toward Zion National Park. I had no plans for dirt forays on this tour, but my big R 1200 GS was the perfect mount for the area just in case. I rolled south through lush farmland until I made the westward turn at Mt. Carmel Junction onto State Route 9.

The midweek traffic was moderately light on what is also known as the Zion-Mt. Carmel Highway. The muted hues and sweeping corners on the first stretch were a nice warm-up and ultimately led to the east entrance of Zion. After stopping to pay the park’s $30 entrance fee (good for one week), I soon rolled into the shadows of striking crimson cliffs and stratified sedimentary rock formations. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Zion National Park
Tunnels carved through the sandstone are a unique and entertaining element of a ride through Zion National Park.

The scenery morphed into the striking beauty for which Zion is famous, and the road coiled to follow the natural contours of the park’s stone majesty. After a stop to admire the massive geometrical etchings on Checkerboard Mesa, the curves became increasingly tight and entertaining.

To my delight, I spotted two mountain goats posing atop two rock outcroppings. Thankfully, they held their pose long enough for me to dismount and snap some photos. Just a few miles later, I rolled through a short but impressive tunnel carved into the red sedimentary mountain. This ride was off to a scintillating start. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Zion National Park
A mountain goat stands sentinel over stratified rock formations high above State Route 9 in the eastern part of Zion.

See all of Rider‘s ‘Great Roads West’ touring stories here.

Deeper into the national park, the traffic and tourist presence became denser but not so heavy as to spoil the stunning ambiance. I motored beneath sculpturesque rock formations dotted with vibrant evergreen trees. The colors were eye-popping. In stretches, the winding asphalt was crimson-hued like the cliffs, and at other times, it was the more traditional gray. After miles of riding, stopping, and photographing, I came to the Zion-Mt. Carmel Tunnel. After waiting for an oversized RV to be escorted through the tight passageway, it was my turn. 

The tunnel, which was carved during the Jazz Age of the 1920s, is over a mile long. However, it’s not the length that was so striking to me. There were intermittent arched “windows” along the span that framed glimpses of the majesty of the mountains though which I was passing. While stopping in the tunnel is prohibited, I moved at a snail’s pace to take in the living art. It was truly impressive. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Zion National Park
White Navajo sandstone looks like snow atop the red rocks.

I emerged from the tunnel, flipped down my faceshield, and rolled farther into Zion. In the distance, white-capped mountains rose on the horizon. What I assumed was snow was actually the top layer of white Navajo sandstone on towers like the Great White Throne. I resisted the temptation of wide-eyed sightseeing while navigating the narrow, winding road. Frequent stops gave my kickstand a workout.

The western stretch of the park is much more developed and thus more visited. I motored over the cool waters of the Virgin River and into the community of Springdale, which rests just outside the western entrance of the park. This bustling community sits in stark contrast to the more natural and undeveloped eastern entrance. I have to say, I preferred the latter. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Zion National Park
Checkerboard Mesa in Zion National Park.

With Zion National Park in the rearview mirror, I set my sights on a remote stretch of my tour. After a northern turn at St. George, I rolled onto State Route 18. This is a road that often parallels the route of the Old Spanish National Historic Trail through Dixie National Forest. The ride started with more of the red and white Navajo sandstone that graced Zion as I passed by Snow Canyon.

After several miles of the nicely sweeping road, I came upon a somber historical site. The Mountain Meadows Memorial commemorates a massacre that took place in 1857. The four-day series of attacks were carried out by members of the Utah Territorial Militia and targeted the Baker-Fancher emigrant wagon train. About 120 men, women, and children were killed in the tragic territorial dispute. 

I rode farther north through the high chaparral terrain until making a westward turn onto State Route 56. This stretch afforded me the space to use the higher gears on the GS and take in the expansive southern Utah views. Finally, signage welcomed me to
Cedar City. The “Festival City” would be my highly anticipated stop for the night. After unloading my bags in the El Rey Inn, I had a few slices of margherita pizza and a microbrew at the bustling Centro Woodfired Pizzeria near the campus of Southern Utah University. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Cedar City
Cedar City is a compact and charming Utah town.

The university is home to a world-class theatrical experience, the annual Utah Shakespeare Festival, which runs from June to October. Anytime I can infuse a bit of the Bard into my tours, I do so with enthusiasm. In this case, I had secured a ticket to a preview performance of Macbeth. I settled into my seat at the beautiful outdoor theater and thoroughly enjoyed the spirited performance of “The Scottish Play” in the warm Utah evening air. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Cedar City Utah Shakespeare Festival
From June through October, Cedar City hosts the Utah Shakespeare Festival, which has established itself as one of the premiere Elizabethan experiences in the nation.

See all of Rider‘s Utah motorcycle rides here.

Day 2: Cedar Breaks and Ski Slopes

The second day of my southern Utah tour would include a serious gain in elevation, so I layered riding shirts under my mesh jacket in preparation for the crisp morning ride. The climb out of Cedar City into the mountains of the Dixie National Forest was rapid and enjoyable. The vibrant mix of conifers beside the winding path of State Route 14 was more reminiscent of a forest in the Pacific Northwest than what one would normally find in the Southwest. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Cedar City State Route 14
Diversity is the rule of the day in southern Utah. State Route 14 carves a sinuous line through Cedar Canyon east of Cedar City.

I was glad I had put on extra layers. Even in late June, this mountainous area often reveals some lingering snow. I clicked on the heated grips for a spell in the early morning shade of the mountains as the temperatures dropped into the low 40s. Deep in the mountains, I made the northern turn onto State Route 148 and continued my curvaceous climb. (Due to winter closures on this part of the route, this ride is best done in late spring to early fall.)

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Brian Head
Located just north of Cedar Breaks National Monument and surrounded by national forest land, the ski area of Brian Head is an alpine region with incredible riding through evergreens and alongside high-country creeks and wetlands.

Just a handful of miles into this stretch, I arrived at the impressive Cedar Breaks National Monument ($10 entrance fee). The Paiutes called the area “Circle of Painted Cliffs,” and the Native name is a perfect description. It is known as a smaller, less touristy version of Bryce Canyon, which is exactly why I opted for it on this tour.

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Cedar Breaks National Monument
Cedar Breaks National Monument is a geologic amphitheater filled with multicolored hoodoos, spires, and steep cliffs that spans 3 miles across and a half-mile deep.

It is a natural shale, limestone, and sandstone amphitheater with a rim elevation of 10,000 feet. The road follows that rim closely, offering several breathtaking views. After taking in those vistas, my ride out of the monument was flanked by mountains still laced with snow and flowing runoff streams. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Cedar Breaks National Monument
Taking in the view at Cedar Breaks National Monument. The vast expanses of southern Utah are best imbibed slowly and completely. This is not an area to rush through.

Just out of the boundary of the national monument, I continued north on State Route 143 and rolled into the ski resort town of Brian Head, which sits at an elevation of nearly 10,000 feet. Some of the forests near the town were ravaged by wildfires in 2017, but the unaffected ski slopes are lush and dense. The entire ride along Route 143 was amazing. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Brian Head

I dropped out of the mountains, and after a short leg on the interstate, I headed southeast on State Route 20. I was fully engulfed in the sweeping corners when I noticed a series of metal sculptures that looked like a mule train in the tall Utah grass. The adjacent historical marker indicated that I was at an intersection of the Old Spanish National Historic Trail. At the end of this stretch, I headed south on U.S. Route 89. I rode through the small town of Panguitch, and then I turned west on Route 143 and rode through the Dixie National Forest for the last leg of my trip. 

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Old Spanish Trail
Human history, as evidenced in a portion of the Old Spanish Trail used by traders in the early 1800s, adds texture to an exploration of the area.

I was back in the serious twisties as I passed Panguitch Lake. The expansive reservoir sits at more than 8,000 feet. Tall trees, meandering creeks, and crisp mountain air were the earmarks of the rest of the ride through the national forest. I detoured south on Mammoth Creek Road, and at Duck Creek Village, I headed east on SR 14, descending out of the mountains to U.S. 89 and back to Orderville.

My southern Utah motorcycle ride did not disappoint. My exploration proved to be an area rich in both natural and human history. The diversity of the ride kept it fresh and entertaining, and the roads were a motorcyclist’s dream.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

Southern Utah motorcycle ride Brian Head
From sandstone canyons to alpine mountains like Brian Head Peak, this is a ride of stunning views. Slow down, stop, and enjoy it.

Southern Utah Motorcycle Ride Resources:

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Backcountry Discovery Routes Releases Steens Mountain and Alvord Desert, OR BDR-X

Backcountry Discovery Routes Steens Mountains and Alvord Desert Oregon BDR-X
Backcountry Discovery Routes Steens Mountains and Alvord Desert, Oregon, BDR-X (Photo by Ely Woody)

Earlier this year, Backcountry Discovery Routes (BDR) released the Oregon BDR, its 12th full route, and each one can be completed in about a week. BDR has also released shorter BDR-X routes that are loops that can be done in two to three days. Read the press release below to learn more about the latest BDR-X route.

Related: Listen to Our Podcast Interview with BDR’s Inna Thorn and Tim James


Backcountry Discovery Routes Steens Mountains and Alvord Desert Oregon BDR-X
Backcountry Discovery Routes Steens Mountains and Alvord Desert, Oregon, BDR-X (Photo by Ely Woody)

The adventure motorcycling nonprofit Backcountry Discovery Routes (BDR) will release its next route, the Steens Mountain and Alvord Desert, Oregon BDR-X, during a live YouTube broadcast on June 7th from Mosko Moto headquarters in White Salmon, Washington. 

Hosts BDR Executive Director Inna Thorn, route co-architect Nathan Fant, and Mosko Moto CEO Pete Day will premiere the short expedition documentary film and offer viewers a behind-the-scenes look at the creation of the route.

  • Wednesday, June 7, 2023
  • Steens Mountain & Alvord Desert BDR-X Live Route Release
  • 5 p.m. PST / 8 p.m. EST
  • YouTube.com/RideBDR
Backcountry Discovery Routes Steens Mountains and Alvord Desert Oregon BDR-X
Backcountry Discovery Routes Steens Mountains and Alvord Desert, Oregon, BDR-X (Photo by Ely Woody)

The Steens Mountain and Alvord Desert BDR-X is the organization’s fifteenth route and fourth in the BDR-X series of shorter BDR-style loops. Free GPS tracks, travel resources, and a downloadable/printable map will be available at RideBDR.com/AlvordDesert.

“We created this BDR-X because Steens Mountain has to been seen to be believed. Far different than the Cascades or Rockies, this remote mountain has deep glacier-carved gorges and views down to the vast Alvord Desert that riders get to experience on the second day. It’s an awe-inspiring loop that riders will never forget.” — Bryce Stevens, BDR co-founder and route architect

Mosko Moto is the presenting sponsor of this route. The luggage and apparel manufacturer is headquartered in White Salmon, WA, and is perfectly situated between the end of the ORBDR and the start of the WABDR. For BDR riders, Mosko offers free camping at the Bates Mototel – about 5 miles from downtown White Salmon (reserve a site by email). Mosko’s Co-Founder and CEO joined the filming expedition.

“The Alvord is one of my favorite places in the world. The wide open spaces, the absence of noise, clutter, and people. Dark skies and vivid stars. It’s a very special place, and it’s far from everything, which is kind of the point.” — Pete Day, Mosko Moto Co-Founder & CEO

About The Backcountry Discovery Routes OR BDR-X 

Designed to showcase the striking 5,000-foot elevation transition from the Steens Mountain to the Alvord Desert, this remote BDR-X starts and ends in Fields, Oregon (near section 1 of the Oregon BDR). The 246-mile loop can be accomplished in two days and offers a diverse mix of surface terrain, including gravel roads, rocky double-track, overgrown dirt roads, and open desert playa making this BDR-X truly unique. This 2-day loop is accessible after the snow melts and the roads open in June.

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Florida Motorcycle Ride on Scenic State Road 13 | Favorite Ride

Florida Motorcycle Ride State Road 13
Florida SR 13 runs alongside the St. Johns River, which flows lazily from south to north for more than 300 miles and enters the Atlantic Ocean near Jacksonville. For this ride, my relaxed pace matched that of the river.

I should warn you: This Florida motorcycle ride doesn’t include challenging hairpin curves or drastic changes in elevation. The Sunshine State has a well-earned reputation for flat, straight roads, but there are little nuggets here and there that offer riding entertainment of a different sort.

Jacksonville is the second largest city by area in the contiguous U.S., so it’s spread out in clusters of population density. To get away from the hustle and bustle, I headed to a local favorite for motorcyclists, State Road 13, which runs for nearly 50 miles along the east bank of the north-flowing St. Johns River from Jacksonville south to Spuds, a rural community that grows exactly what its name would suggest.

Florida Motorcycle Ride State Road 13

Scan QR code above or click here to view the route on REVER

On the day of my ride, I hit the lottery in terms of traffic. I had the day off for Presidents’ Day. Schools were out, less fortunate souls were working, and my family was visiting the zoo, so I had a cool, sunny day all to myself.

After filling my body’s tank with high-octane coffee, I fired up my air-cooled Ducati Scrambler 1100, and its Italian rumble brought a smile to my face. I started off midmorning in no particular rush, enjoying the Duc’s torquey Twin while my fellow travelers sat locked in their steel cages.

Related: Ducati Scrambler 1100 First Ride Review

Florida Motorcycle Ride State Road 13 Riverdale Park
Riverdale Park, where I took an opportunity to enjoy the view and fantasize about setting sail on an abandoned sailboat.

See all of Rider‘s Florida touring stories here.

As I approached Greenbriar Road, my thoughts went to the history of this unremarkable stretch. Artist Amy Stump, who is a native to the area, once told me about the road’s history and its nickname, Ghost Light Road, which was summed up in Bill Delaney’s Jaxlore column in The Jaxson:

“[T]he ghost is a young motorcyclist from the area whose father had warned him about speeding on the dirt road. One fateful day, the young man’s brother strung a rope across Greenbriar. This prank merely would have unseated the cocky rider had he heeded his father’s admonition, but, unfortunately, he gunned the engine and lost his head. Thereafter, his ghost shined his headlamp down Greenbriar in a nightly vigil, either searching for his lost head or warning others against being so reckless.”

Florida Motorcycle Ride State Road 13
Trees draped in Spanish moss are a common sight in this part of Florida.

Like The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, the tale is apocryphal, but why let the truth get in the way of a good story?

Greenbriar Road ends at SR 13 near Switzerland (which is nothing like the country), and I headed south toward the town of Orangedale, passing under a large canopy of oak trees casting shadows over the road. The 17-mile stretch of SR 13 between Julington Creek and Wades Creek is designated as the William Bartram Scenic and Historic Highway, named after the naturalist and botanist who documented plants, animals, and native peoples in the area during the late 1700s.

Florida Motorcycle Ride State Road 13 Bartram Scenic and Historic Highway
Part of SR 13 honors 18th-century botanist and naturalist William Bartram.

As I rolled along the well-kept two-lane road, I caught peeks of the St. Johns River through the trees, and a few curves and roundabouts provided an opportunity to lean the Ducati over. There are small parks aplenty for scenic stops, many with benches to take in the river views and get a taste of “Old Florida.” 

As I approached Orangedale, I was enveloped by the smokey smell wafting from Woodpeckers Backyard BBQ, a local favorite. Amy Stump’s mural of angel wings encircling regional landmarks greeted me as I placed an order for brisket and datil corn. Luckily, I got there before the brisket sold out, a gutting experience for those who arrive late in the day. I took my platter across the street to the Shands Pier and ate while watching boats gliding on the glint of the St. Johns.

Florida Motorcycle Ride State Road 13 Amy Stump Woodpeckers Backyard BBQ
A mural by Amy Stump at Woodpeckers Backyard BBQ, which is across from Shands Pier on SR 13.

Continuing south on SR 13, I took a brief detour on State Road 16 and crossed the Shands Bridge, passing fishermen, food trucks, and farm vendors. After riding by boatyards full of masts jutting into the sky, I stopped at The Military Museum of North Florida, located at the former site of Naval Air Station Lee Field. With its bunker-like main building, heavy machinery, and even a couple of military motorcycles from past theaters of war, it serves as a vivid reminder of the area’s deep military history.

Florida Motorcycle Ride State Road 13 St. Johns River Shands Pier
View of the St. Johns River at Shands Pier. Between Palatka and Jacksonville, the river ranges from 1 to 3 miles wide.

Back on SR 13, I stopped at Trout Creek Memorial Park and Marina, highlights of which include the Major Gen. William W. Loring Monument and swamp-boat rentals for sightseeing or fishing. While enjoying an inspiring view of the creek, I imagined William Bartram recording observations and gathering samples in the same location hundreds of years ago.

Florida Motorcycle Ride State Road 13 Military Museum of North Florida
The Military Museum of North Florida is on the west side of the river in Green Cove Springs.

Just down the road, I stopped at Buddy Boy’s Country Store, the best gas station on this route to fill up or enjoy the camaraderie of fellow riders. With its Adirondack chairs, general store provisions, and tasty country barbecue, it’s a must-stop if you’re in the area.

See all of Rider‘s Southeast U.S. touring stories here.

On the road again, the beauty of my ride really unfolded with curvy roads winding through tree canopies with peekaboo views of the river, piers, boat docks, and parks. Between the well-to-do town of Picolata (once the home of a Spanish fort) and Tocoi, SR 13 opened up, giving the Ducati a chance to stretch its legs.

Once past Tocoi, I recommend stopping at Riverdale Park. With picnic tables, benches, and a well-kept public restroom, it’s a nice place to relax and reflect. As the glassy calm waters of the St. Johns lapped gently against the shore, I closed my eyes and soaked in the ambience.

Florida Motorcycle Ride State Road 13 Trout Creek Memorial Park and Marina
A taste of Florida’s primitive beauty at Trout Creek Memorial Park and Marina.

SR 13 ends at the junction with State Road 207 near Spuds. I had a decision to make: head east toward the coast to towns like St. Augustine, Palm Coast, and Daytona Beach, or cross the river and ride up the west bank of the St. Johns. Eager to get home in time to enjoy dinner with my family and listen to the adventures my 6-year-old and his friends had at the zoo, I returned home the way I came, enjoying the open road and the scenery in the opposite direction. The beauty of this route is that it’s enjoyable on its own, or it can be combined with other scenic roads nearby. One thing’s for sure: It was the change of pace I was looking for.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

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An Appalachians Motorcycle Ride Through Scenery and History | Favorite Ride

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride

In late October, an Appalachians motorcycle ride is a gamble. Weather is the house, and over time, the house usually wins. But once in a while, lady luck is on your side, as she was when a college friend and I gambled on one last ride before the riding season ended, taking a 460-mile loop through the Allegheny Mountains of West Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, including a section of the historic Lincoln Highway and a visit to Gettysburg.

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride

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From my home in Manassas, Virginia, we headed west on Interstate 66 toward Front Royal under clear blue skies with temperatures in the mid-60s. My leather jacket was perfect for these conditions because my Triumph Sprint GT’s sporty fairing offers only modest wind protection.

After a brief jaunt on Interstate 81, we continued west on U.S. Route 48 into West Virginia, where we enjoyed highway cruising speeds through mountains blanketed with foliage in various hues of yellow, orange, red, and brown.

See all of Rider‘s Southeast U.S. touring stories here.

We made quick time to Baker, where Route 48’s four lanes become two. At Thomas, we turned north on U.S. Route 219, dialed up some throttle, and weaved through the highlands briefly before stopping at the remote Fairfax Stone. The Fairfax Stone, originally placed in 1746, once marked the boundary of land granted to Lord Fairfax. The weather can be unpredictable in the mountains, but our luck held. The wind and the rustle of falling leaves brought a sense of solitude and calm to the area.

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride Fairfax Stone
The Fairfax Stone is tucked away in the highlands near the West Virginia-Maryland border. (Photo by Antony-22 via Wikimedia Commons)

Continuing north on Route 219, we entered Maryland and enjoyed more mountain views, including a ridge lined with big wind turbines. Just outside of Oakland, we turned east on State Route 135 towards Westernport. This part of western Maryland, just south of the Savage River State Forest, in and out of valleys and up and over mountains, felt more remote than any other area we rode through. Occasionally, where the trees had shed their leaves, we caught glimpses of the valley below as we ascended a mountain.

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride
Somewhere outside of Gettysburg, we made a brief stop to enjoy the sights and sounds of one last ride before Old Man Winter arrived.

From Westernport, we took State Route 36 north toward Frostburg, where we hopped on Interstate 68 east for about 12 miles to the exit for U.S. Route 220. We continued north and soon crossed into Pennsylvania, and after about 25 mostly straight miles, we arrived in Bedford, where we picked up U.S. Route 30 and saw the first red, white, and blue sign with a large “L” designating the Lincoln Highway.

Dedicated in 1913, the Lincoln Highway was America’s first transcontinental road for automobiles – and motorcycles! It spanned 3,000 miles and connected New York to San Francisco by way of Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Chicago, Omaha, Cheyenne, and Salt Lake City.

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride Lincoln Highway
One of the historic markers for the Lincoln Highway. (Photo by MichaelVi – stock.adobe.com)

One of the many historic sites along the Lincoln Highway is The Coffee Pot, an 18-foot-tall building shaped like a coffee pot that was built in 1927 in Bedford, Pennsylvania, and once housed a small restaurant. A few miles west of Bedford, at the crest of one of the rolling hills that ebb and flow through bucolic pastures, the neon sign of the Lincoln Motor Court beckoned us to step back in time.

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride Lincoln Motor Court
My cottage at the Lincoln Motor Court, located just east of Schellsburg on Route 30, was a time machine back to the 1940s.

Built in the 1940s and laid out in the shape of a U, the motor court’s 12 single-room cottages offer more than just a place to rest for the night. The wood paneling, kerosene wall heaters, and period decor transported us back to the days before interstate highways.

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride Coffee Pot Bedford Pennsylvania Lincoln Highway
The Coffee Pot in Bedford, Pennsylvania, once served as a lunch stand along the Lincoln Highway but now rests in the nearby fairgrounds. (Photo by Jeff Kubina via Wikimedia Commons)

With autumn daylight burning away, we hopped back on the bikes and cruised over to Schellsburg for dinner at Judy’s Place (a recommendation from the motel owner), where our bet on wings and a plate of crabby fries paid off. When we returned to the motor court, there was a fire crackling in the fire pit. It doesn’t get much better than sitting in the glow of a fire and trading riding stories over beers.

A crisp autumn day with clear skies welcomed us the next morning. As we cruised east on the Lincoln Highway toward Gettysburg, we tried to imagine what the road was like in its early days. It was once promoted as a way to get from New York City to San Francisco by automobile for the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exhibition. Completing the full route took weeks back then.

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride Gettysburg
View of the Gettysburg battlefield facing west.

We were less concerned about getting to a destination than getting away, as the Lincoln Highway offers a nice reprieve from the nearby Pennsylvania Turnpike (Interstate 76). There’s less traffic and noise and more scenery – a ribbon of highway that rolls through beautiful Pennsylvania farm country and crests at numerous ridgelines.

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride Gettysburg National Military Park
The Gettysburg National Military Park is surrounded by memorials and markers. In our limited time, we were only able to visit a few. (Photo by Refocus Photography – stock.adobe.com)

In Gettysburg, we had a bite to eat at the Lincoln Diner and browsed at The Union Drummer Boy, a shop that sells Civil War artifacts. Then we cruised through the historic downtown and over to the Gettysburg National Military Park. We climbed to the upper level of the Pennsylvania State Memorial, which offers sweeping views of the hallowed ground where the Battle of Gettysburg was fought in 1863. For anyone who appreciates American history, a visit to Gettysburg is highly recommended.

Appalachians Motorcycle Ride Pennsylvania State Memorial Gettysburg
The Pennsylvania State Memorial is the largest monument on the Gettysburg battlefield, and it offers panoramic views from the upper level. (Photo by imagoDens – stock.adobe.com

Late in the day, my friend and I parted ways. He headed back to Philadelphia, and I turned south toward Virginia. With one last ride in the books before the onset of winter, we walked away from the table as winners.

See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.

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