Up until last weekend, my longest trip on the bike this summer was about 200 miles to York, PA and back. The temperature that day was a hair below 100 and the route to York was far from exciting. All in all I would say that trip was like sitting in a boring sauna with a 200 degree 500lb chunk of metal between your legs.

I get an email from my sadistic kickass brother last Friday suggesting that since we’re both in town, we should meet up half way from each other (he lives in Greencastle, PA) and go for a ride. Knowing what his “rides” are like…I took a deep breath and agreed. Actually there was no second thought, I was itching SO badly to get out on my bike and I knew that with Brent it would be a blast…so I left work with a smile and got ready for the next day.

I left Ashburn at about 10:45 with a 63 mile trip to Shockeysville, VA ahead of me with a planned meeting time of 12:00. A bit optimistic considering my normal elderly pace and being unsure of what some of the roads were like, but I knew with Rt. 7 being the largest part of my trip that I could get there in plenty of time…or so I thought. You see, I have loved Google Maps unconditionally since day one. Even though it refuses to take me on 66E into DC, I still had its back. Until Saturday. Granted, I’m not even sure if Shockeysville is real or not (I asked someone in Winchester which is 6 miles away and they looked at me like I had 3 heads)…but what Google maps forgot to tell me was that the second to last road changed names about 4 times before ultimately ending up as Greenspring Rd. Of course I veered off course and ended up back in Winchester, VA and about an hour behind schedule when I finally met Brent and his new super light Suomy helmet at “the intersect on Greenspring where it becomes dirt” [or something like that]

After the pleasantries were exchanged and I describe where the hell I was…my brother, on his dirt bike (dual sport, KTM 640 Adventure) took me down this awful road:

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granted, it was AWESOME…but I just haven’t ridden in a while and the twisties were few and far between this summer, so needless to say I was very refreshed, a little scared and about 10 minutes behind him when we got to the end.

Have to say though by the time it was all over I was craving more. Brent didn’t fail to deliver. I wish I could convey the scribbly air motion he made with his finger, but he told me about a road on the map of WV that went like “this” [imagine a smiling kid scribbling something their finger]. But that’s for later….

After the Siler Rd/Ln run, we moved on to the finer parts of WV. The first thing I noticed about WV is that there is a church every 3/4 mile. I swear…for every boarded up house, beat up gas station and random inhabited trailer alongside the road there is at least ONE church. Just an observation I suppose, just not sure why they need so many. All of that aside, one thing I can say is that the roads and scenery out there is amazing…once you get away from the Albino kids playing the banjo…OK OK I’m done.

We hit Rt 9 in WV…I don’t have the map of our route on 9, but we ended up at a panoramic overlook of a valley.

Out of the entire day, Rt 9 was my favorite. It had its share of < 20mph curves, but for the most part it was nicely paved and had a lot of nice long sweeping curves and some decent "S" curves. I did get stuck behind a lady in a Subaru wagon that Brent passed and I missed my opportunity. Once I did smoke the old cow, I was pushing it to get caught up to Brent. As I approached a pretty nice uphill curve I looked ahead and saw someone in riding gear standing by the road with a camera:

Gotta say I’m a little disheartened that I was so slow he had time to set up and take a picture, but I’m glad that he did…and besides, it was all the Subaru lady’s fault.

We stopped for a few minutes at the top of the hill (see the pic above) to go to the bathroom and check out the scenery. We ended up talking to a group of guys from Philadelphia that do a ride every year and have been doing it for 34 (or 43?) years. They were Ducati fans as well and one of them and their brother both had Ducatis (touching, right?). Not to totally gay up the ride report, but I felt inspired and walked away hoping that in 34 (or 43) years I’ll be able to say something similar to some riders I cross paths with.

We rolled out, finished the not as exciting part of Route 9 and then the torture began.

Imagine…a road, in the woods, mostly uphill…curvy as all get out…with uneven tarmac, bumps, some big drop offs, some gravel splattered about…think WRC course:

OK OK that was a little dramatic…but it was a challenge. Decreasing radius curves, hairpins, steep downhill curves…it was tough..and I’ll admit that I did go off the road one time and thought I was laying the Multistrada down. My MSF coursework came in handy though and I straightened her out and got her stopped.

Here’s the route:

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We then took a break at 522 and parted ways.

I’m not going to get into the bad directions that Jones gave me, or being an hour late to pick up my baby at school…

All in all the day ended up putting the Multistrada over 5000 miles and so very close to the hell of its 6000 mile service, I logged a little under 260 miles, mostly on the fun roads (Rt 7 has it’s moments as well), and I learned a lot. Even Brent said that he noticed an increase in confidence and overall better riding coming from me by the end of the day. I can’t wait for the next trip. Had a blast…best time on my bike since I got the thing. Thanks buddy.

Here are Brent’s pics