Sunday Ride in the Valley

It was Thursday night when the phone rang. It was Andrew on the line inviting me to a ride that he was organizing for Sunday. Was I interested? After a moment’s hesitation while I flipped through my mental list of obligations and confirmed that I apparently had no must do items for that day, I happily replied “most definitely”.

I was up before daybreak to a chilly 10 degrees Celsius. It was the last weekend of August and the number of good riding days in Eastern Ontario was rapidly diminishing. Today, however, the weatherman was calling for balmy temperatures under sunny skies making it perfect riding weather. Also coming with me on the ride would be my wife, Caroline, and she would be on her 883 Sporty. Although I’m glad she rides her own bike (which leaves me with a lot more room on mine), I was a bit concerned about her ability to keep up in a group. After all, she was still a relatively new rider having only returned to the sport not much more than a year earlier. But I needn’t have worried. By the end of the day she will have proved herself quite capable (despite a minor mishap I’ll get to a little later on).

Before I hustled Caroline out of bed, I had taken care of breakfast, assembled all our gear by the door, and had both bikes out of the garage and parked on the driveway ready to go. Once I had her up and moving, I parked myself at the kitchen table and sat impatiently in my leathers to watch her get ready, something she for some reason found annoying. By nine o’clock we were motoring. I figured we would need no more than an hour to make our appointed rendezvous with Andrew at the Antrim Truck Stop on highway 417.

The Rendezvous

Gathered outside the Antrim Truck Stop and getting ready to ride.

Whenever we ride together, I tend to let Caroline lead. I do this for two reasons. One, it permits me to keep an eye on her and her bike. And two, it keeps me from riding at a pace she might find less than comfortable. This is not to say that I speed excessively, but more that I tend to use the ponies at my disposal more vigorously than someone who has not yet acquired full confidence. Put more bluntly, I had a tendency to leave her in the dust. So I was surprised when she motioned for me to take the point when we entered on to the four-lane highway.

While up front, I spent most of my time watching the needle on my speedo, trying very hard to maintain a steady pace slightly above the posted limit of 100 km/hr and a speed that I felt she should be able to easily manage. So when we passed the huge billboard sign announcing that we had arrived at our destination, I never saw it and almost missed turning off into the truck stop’s parking lot. Later on, I was chastised for braking too suddenly, almost causing her to rear end me, and so was returned to my usual humble position behind her.

We filled up our tanks, and parked the bikes beside others already there. Entering the restaurant, we were surprised to find two other couples sitting with Andrew and his wife, Lynn. We were first introduced to Keith and Sue, and then said our hellos to Ilse and Axel, whom we knew from our past involvement with the Eastern Ontario HOG chapter. Forty-five minutes of eggs, coffee and chatter later, we paid our bills and headed out the door to our Harleys.