Labor Day Twist

The roads entering and departing Frankfort, KY offer some of the most sensational curves in the central area of the state - not to mention the opportunity to explore a bit of history in the process.  Rt. 421 remains a favorite of mine, whether I'm visiting the capital for the day or following that ribbon of asphalt southeast all the way to that wondrous Mecca of the two-wheeled life at the convergence of Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, and North Carolina.  Unfortunately, on Labor Day 2017, I only had enough time for a ride through the local environs.  

Corydon Pike

As I purchased a new camera a few days ago - a GoPro Hero Session 5 - I thought a short run on the local roads to test the unit's capabilities was in order.  The footage depicts a short run up Corydon Pike, a connector road bridging Rt. 111 out of New Albany, Indiana to Rt. 62 in Georgetown, Indiana.  Although a brief ride, my primary interest pertained to assessing the effectiveness of the small camera's image stabilization functions.  As I gain familiarity with the device and polish my skills with the camera's use, I'll review a few more features of the Session 5.  This video was shot in 1080p at 60 fps with the image stabilization option in effect.  

Gateway to the Gorge

Over the weekend, I took the Beemer on a short excursion to the Red River Gorge Geological Area located to the southeast of Lexington, KY. I was hoping to catch the last of the fall foliage. Traffic through the area was minimal. The temperature may have had something to do with it. In the sunshine, the temps rarely crossed out of the upper 40's. At night, they dipped into the high 30's. While the leaves have passed their peak, enough of the fire of Autumn still clings to the branches to make the ride worthwhile.

The Nada Tunnel runs an east/west route into the heart of the Gorge. Originally cut through the rock with steam-powered drills, dynamite, and hand tools, the tunnel was completed in 1911 and was the only through way to the Gorge's interior. The tunnel was designed to accommodate 25 and 35 ton locomotives used to haul timber from the interior to the saw mill at Clay City. The Clay City mill, at one time, was the largest in the eastern United States.

According to local lore, only one man was killed during the construction of the railway tunnel. Apparently, he attempted to thaw several sticks of frozen dynamite by the heat of his campfire and well. . .

The tunnel is 900' long, around 20' in height, and 15' wide. The excavation crews began the project in 1910 and completed it in a little over a year in 1911. Given the tools of the times, the tunnel is a marvel of early 20th century engineering.

As a gateway into the Red River Gorge, the Nada Tunnel prepares the eye for the stunning vistas of the rock formations and blaze of Autumn color that lies beyond. The valley in which the Red River flows has been home to human beings for over 14,000 years; the earliest evidence of people living in the region can be found in the artifacts they left behind in cliff shelters. As I threaded my way along the narrow road under fading trees, listening to the river shush it's way through the valley, I wondered what I would leave behind for others to find. Perhaps only an echo of my passing, lone horse and it's rider.

New Tools: Google Maps

As a way of peaking my interest in roads a bit closer to the city, I've been tooling around with the Terrain function on Google Maps. It's been a useful way of locating the twisty roads within a stone's throw of the homestead. Prime examples are Route 1526, Route 1020, and Route 44 snaking through the hill country just south of Louisville and the Jefferson Memorial Forest.

View Larger Map

Fall Fever

I finally managed to squeeze a little cash out of the monthly budget to replace the dead battery in the Ninja. After a bit of coaxing, the bike fired over and settled into a smooth idle. Since the bike's been sitting for a while, I worked my way through the preflight checklist. The oil level seemed fine, and I had filled the tank prior to parking the bike one month ago. Brake fluid and light checked out. Turn signals were operational. Time to ride.

Manslick Rd. skirts the southern edge Iroquois Park in South Louisville before topping a ridge into the St. Andrews area. For a brief four or five miles, this road twists through some marvelous fall foliage inside the Louisville city limits. And while the curves tempt a rider to push the envelope, the sheer number of mailboxes decorating the roadside provides a warning as to the possibility of vehicles entering the traffic around blind corners.

I'd forgotten about how much fun the Ninja can be on a piece of blacktop threaded through the woods. The 650, particularly following a few months on the much heavier BMW, makes me feel like a fighter pilot. The Ninja dives into the corners. The bike encourages me to hang a knee off the side. After sliding through a corner, the Ninja seems to say, "Now let's turn around and take it again like we're supposed to."

I used to believe that I didn't have room in my life for more than one machine. Today, dodging through the dappled shadows under the fading leaves, I realize that I have enough room in my life for whatever awakens that desire to see what's around the next bend in the road.

Ride safe.

Twist and Shout

The Kentucky Highlands, as they're known in these parts, contain roads that appeal to many appetites. Along any given stretch, one can find complex curves, rolling hills, and long, smooth expanse of unblemished asphalt. Referred to as the golden triangle by those who live within it, my favorite stretches of road run through country bordered by three interstate systems bridging the cities of Louisville, Lexington, and Cincinnati. It's easy for me to disappear for a day into the hills and loose track of time.

Just this past Tuesday, adding an extra day off to the holiday weekend, I decided I'd make a run to two out to a particular spot of roadway that I appreciate for the view and the turns. Rt. 22 pierces west into the very heart of Louisville, but the section that particularly concerned me lies just about a mile to the east of the hamlet of Gratz, positioned on the banks of the Kentucky River. 22 can be scenic once the city and suburbs are left behind, winding through farm country on it's way toward Owenton. While the road holds few surprises other than the scenery and can be ridden at a brisk pace, one particular section deserves closer inspection and a higher level of skill.

One or two miles after exiting Gratz, Rt. 22 makes a scenic but hard left out of the valley and begins twisting it's way up the hillside in a series of tight coils. It's as if a crew of road engineers were transplanted for a few days from the Appalachians and then whisked away once road construction crested the hill. This short section, perhaps only a half-mile long, nevertheless is worth a few passes. Due to the incline, descending the hill offers challenges not encountered in the ascent. The corners along the upward side will sharpen a sport bike's foot pegs during a spirited run. Guardrails and cattle fences line both sides of the road and missing a corner will result in fast descent down the gravel roadbed into barbed wire. I encourage keeping an eye peeled for rambunctious cagers crossing the center line in the turns, gravel trucks speeding to the nearby quarry, and patient clopping of Amish horse and buggy.

Do I Have Bugs in My Teeth?

Out here in the country, its hard to miss the coming of Spring. The air sweetens, and the green fades into the grass along my favorite twisting tarmac. The ice releases the chatter of the Little Kentucky River. The farmers turn earth and prepare for the first planting of the season, the smell of grave and good harvest.

Motorcyclists are emerging from their winter hibernation. One minute, I'm alone in frigid temperatures and the next, I'm surrounded by my own kind. Its as if they bloomed along with the first flowers and trees. The boar grunt of the Harley bounces off cars parked along the gentile boulevards of small town Kentucky as bands of roaming bankers and lawyers take to the streets. The farting bee-can of the elusive high speed squid filters down to me out of the hills as I settle the bike onto the side stand in my driveway.

Yes, we're all out again. And so are the bugs. If ever there's a surer sign that the deep freeze of winter is coming to an end, I have yet to experience one as disgusting. Due to the fact that I have a brain, I'm fortunate to own a cranial protection device. Inside, I take in the gentle pitter-patter of countless little lives being snuffed out against the protective shield. Its kind of like rain, only gooier.

To all my brethren only now emerging into the light, to all of those purchasing their first horses this season, and to those once lonely sentinels of the frozen asphalt, ride safe, ride hard, and ride free.

Chillin'

Seems like in the winter months I go into a state of suspended animation. Oftentimes, I'm leaving for work in the dark and returning home at night. Here in northern Kentucky, we've experienced above average snowfall this year, and the temperatures over the previous two weeks have been below average for this time of year. Not a good combination, if you ask me. While I don't find the cold daunting, the Ninja definitely wasn't built with ice in mind.

Fortunately, the county and state highway crew performed admirably following last week's snow. The sun slid out from behind the gray dome of an overcast sky and the mercury hovered at just above freezing. Good enough for me. I'll take time where I can find it in the cold months. An old rider once told me that any day I could throw my leg over the saddle was a good day. After tilting the horizon along icy byways in the eastern portion of Henry County, even the hope of distant Spring is enough to sustain my spirit.

Baked with Love

Was out for a quick ride the other day and came across the Bimbo Bakeries truck. The website states that their products are "always baked with love." I couldn't stop giggling in my helmet. Hmmmm....I wonder if they take custom orders?

Tilting the Horizon

I almost forgot how exhilerating a new tire can be, just how far a bike can lean on fresh rubber. I spent a few hours yesterday on the local roads, tilting the horizon through Amish country.

Old House and Truck


Delapidated Barn on the Edge of Amish Country


Tobacco in the Barn

Overlook Along the Little Kentucky River Valley--Rt. 1036

Little Kentucky River Valley from Rt. 202

Long Way...In?

Normally, I take Interstate 71 south into Louisville to work. The weather's been so fantastic this week that I decided to see just how long the commute would take if I stuck to back roads. The humidity in the nothern Kentucky region has been stable around 39%, which is absolutely unheard of for this time of year. On I-71, the commute takes just over 35 minutes, but it's a mere exercise in survival. The commute via my favorite country roads took nearly an hour and a half. Though it consumed more time, the rural route payed in highter dividends for the spirit. Part of my route included a brief stop on Wolf Pen Branch Road in western Henry County to add the liner to my jacket.