HOME ROCKIES KEY WEST         The back roads west of 81 were a beautiful way to go south!     In 1985, after my first year of college, Dad and I rode to Key West for an adventure. Once or twice things went the way we planned. Other than that, we encountered a lot of unplanned and unplannable experiences. Dad and I have always loved the Shenandoah Valley. We took the long way to Florida; the mountainous back roads west of US I-81. Looking back at some pictures, I am reminded that it rained on that part of the trip. All I really remember is being on some back roads...waaayyy back roads in some cases; some of them poorly paved. Somewhere along the line, we came across a cattle farm that took up to mountain sides that faced each other separated by a little mountain stream. It was so beautiful that, despite the light rain, we pulled over to take a picture. With the cows on the opposite mountain side, we were sure to get a great picture from our vantage point. When we turned off the bikes and started to dig out the cameras, a few of the cows started to moo. A few more joined in, and the moo's turned into bellows. It was kind of funny as a few cows started to walk down their mountain side meadow toward the stream. "They must be thirsty," we thought. The bellows increased and soon all of the cows were headed toward the stream. "They must social drinkers," we nervously reasoned. When the cows crossed the stream and came up the other side, we realized that water was not what they were after. Being from Montgomery County, PA, I never seen cows gallop before, especially not up a mountain side toward innocent motorcyclists, bellowing their war-cry at the top of their lungs. We revised our assessment of the situation and surmised that the farmer that feeds them probably wears a yellow suit similar to our yellow Dry Rider rain suits. They sure looked angry, and for all we knew they could have had a nasty falling out with their farmer. I don't know if we ever got the picture. If we did, I don't have it. Do you, Dad? Anyway, we gave our tires a work out on the wet roads as we made our get-away. On slightly more public roads we made our way to Hawk Mountain for a short hike. It was beautiful there. I bought a really cool long sleeved T-shirt with a hawk on the front and hawk feathers on the forearms. I really miss that shirt. More on that later.     Not exactly the Croc Hunter.     When we got down to Florida, we were able to shake off the Dry Riders and put them away, for a while. We rode straight down through Florida's Alligator Alley. It was there that I saw my first "Panther Crossing" sign. I expected to see one for alligators. Maybe I just missed that one. We stopped for a brief walk into the swamps and then got back on the road to Miami and then Key Largo. We had reservations to camp at John Pennycamp State Park on Key Largo. When we got to the campground, we were met with a road block and a man in a yellow suit just like the farmer back in the mountains of Virginia. He kindly informed us that the Florida governor had ordered an evacuation of all state parks in the region because of impending Tropical Storm Elena. "Imagine that!" we thought. So we found a "cheap" motel not to far away and spent the night. The following day, we decided to take our chances and make the trip out to Key West. We had come so far, we didn't relish the thought of not making our ultimate destination. What an eventful day that was! Two amazing things happened that day as well as a milestone for my father.     On a key, seeing Rt 1, and wondering how to get there.     One amazing accomplishment was that we actually made to Key West and back without seeing a drop of rain! The second amazing thing will only be amazing to those of you remotely familiar with the Florida Keys. Led by my fearless father, we got lost on the way from Key Largo to Key West. You may know that there is only one road that connects the keys together. It is Rt 1, and is the only way to get from Key Largo to Key West. We had turned off the road to take a quick tour through a community of homes laced with inlets from the surrounding ocean. Lots and lots of houses on stilts with boats parked next to them, and lots of little bridges going over the inlets. Despite the fact that we never lost sight of Rt 1, we could not figure out how to get back to it. Eventually we found it.     Dad and me catching the sea breeze on our way out west     Once we got to Key West, we went to their little aquarium there. We had not counted on spending the money for staying in a motel, so the admission price at the aquarium seemed all the more steep. The very understanding gate keeper offered Dad his first senior citizen discount. To save the money, he accepted, but he wasn't happy about it! During the trip back up through Florida, we stopped in the Everglades again. We thought it would be fun to take an airboat ride through the swamp and maybe see some alligators. We parked the bikes at the air boat place, paid the man, and he took us way out of sight from the shore line. We got off the boat on a little island, walked around a bit and headed back.     This is the air boat dock where we got taken for a ride, in more ways than one.     As I walked toward my motorcycle, my heart sank. My clothes were gone! So much for my cool Hawk Mountain long sleeve T-shirt. It was a long ride back home and my current clothes were already getting gamey. We aimed our bikes at the Tampa Bay area where my grandparents lived. I could launder my clothes there. Grandpa let me wear a pair of his swimming trunks while my clothes were in the laundry. I wrapped them around my waist a few times and watched the news. "What was on the news?" you ask. Tropical Storm Elena intensified while it followed Dad and I up the west coast of Florida. When we stopped in Tampa, so did Elena. She took a sharp, short turn east toward Tampa and then spun in place for 36 hours and absolutely battered the Clearwater/Indian Rocks Beach area about 2 miles from where we were staying. Remember when I referred to my dad as "fearless?" I wasn't kidding about that part. He decided we had waited long enough. We loaded up the bikes, donned our Dry Riders and got out of Dodge. One of the hardest parts of leaving was finding roads that weren’t closed. We managed, even though the roads we used probably should have been closed. The only trouble we had was when my ignition sires got to wet to keep the bike running. I parked it under an abandoned fruit stand. Once the wires had dripped dry, I got back on the road. Somewhere along the way Dad and I got back together. By the time we got to northern Georgia we were out from under Elena's thumb and we could see stars.     From the paper in Tampa. This house was only a few miles from Grandpa's.     The next day was the last day of the trip, and we never made it home. We managed to make it to Richmond, VA just in time for the afternoon rush hour on I-95. It was there in the left most lane and the height of traffic, my rear tire blew out. The Lord cleared a safe passage for me to get off I-95 and to a very near-by gas station. I had a tubeless tire repair kit that I used to plug the large hole in the tire. I pumped it back up and headed back onto I-95. Just as I got back on the highway, I was met by a single headlight. Riding the wrong way on the shoulder of the highway was the only way Dad could be confident that he would be able to track me down. To this day, I have no idea how far he had to back-track like that until he found me. He's a good dad, and a good riding buddy. The anti-climactic end to our saga occurred just before midnight in Hickory, MD. My rear tire blew out again. Nothing in Hickory, MD is open after 6:00 PM. We found a phone booth and called home. Accompanied by my sister, Barb, Mom (a hardy soul herself) hooked up the bike trailer and drove 90 miles to our little phone booth in Hickory where Dad and I had caught a few Z's on someone's front lawn. That trip was one for the books, or at least the Web site.
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