A little story about this DRU

DRU, 2016, Corydon, Indiana

I'm number 4674 in the VRCC. I no longer ride but I'm still accepted in this ,the club for Valkyries owners or admirers.

This year, for the first time in about five years I decided to get off my geezer arse and attend the DRU.
I'm glad that I did.

I originally decided to follow Mark and Twila through Indy but then changed my mind to bypass Indy by taking Highway 9 through Shelbyville.

The Miata was willing but I had misgivings. I wondered if I could dislodge myself from the tight cabin after 250 miles. I needn't have worried. The Miata looks cramped but once I get my 225 pounds, 5 foot, 11/12 inches into the pilot's seat ,all was well.

What I found out though, was that all isn't well with I65 south of Indy. Interstates are called 'concrete slabs' for obvious reasons and I found the beginning and end of every one of them. The Miata does not soak up the misaligned joints but willingly and maliciously passes them on to a somewhat tired old butt (mine). Highway 9 was ok and fairly smooth but once I got on I65 at Edingburg ,look out.

Katie, Bar the Door! The Miata was in danger of getting run over by all of the clowns traveling at 85 plus. A few times I released the reins and was running just shy of the ton. I realize that the Miata doesn't always carry its weight at only 142 horses but its willingness to giddyap all of them at 7 grand is enough for me.

Finally after 50 miles or so of teeth jarring bumps, it's time to shed I65 for road 56 west to Salem, and then on to 135 south. No problem, nice road but as I got closer to Salem, my GPS showed me driving on grass or something. Salem had stuck in a bypass, my GPS wasn't aware off. Still, no problem, I had a map which works and doesn't use power. I also found my way around with the help of a high wheel pickup driver. Believe me, it's not easy carrying on a conversation with a driver who's about five feet above me but I managed. He showed me the way.

Now 135 is a smooth nicely finished blacktop and I was enjoying the ride but as I drove south, I started having the same type of problem that DDT writes about......poopabilty. I was starting to think that I was going to 'go' approximately 15 minutes before I arrived at the Comfort Inn. Putting the pedal to the floor was not an option. “going' in the Miata was not an option. I was seriously thinking of knocking on doors, ANY door, and then, it was over the railroad crossing and the Comfort Inn was on the left.

I made it. My first words to the Indian desk clerk was “I'm here for the DRU,” my second immediate words were. “Where is the rest room?” I ambled (running was not an option)to the rest room and realized a fact............................No matter what the rooms looked like, no matter the bed, no matter the AC or desk service, this was truly a COMFORT INN.

Intermission

Faulty memory for true names and faces, that's what I DO remember. I could not believe the number of riders who came to me and, for the most part, I couldn't put a name and face to many of them. A few I easily remembered from the CBR's. I f I were to mention them, I wouldn't be doing justice to the others. Suffice to say, I was overwhelmed by all of my friends and that was the very reason why I came, to gab with all of you. I hope that I didn't seem anti social because of not driving with the group and not eating with the group. The @#$% hearings aids are useless in noisy situations and my hearing is useless without them. Ah, the joys of older age!

Friday night and Saturday was very enjoyable. Talking, watching, listening, walking around and looking at all the Valks , trikes, and two rigs, were great. My son and daughter-in-law made it even more enjoyable. Twila is a perfect match for Mark. .

Saturday night, I excused myself from an interesting roundtable (actually folding chairs) early as I have a big problem with age related sleeping. I wanted to slow down after all the interesting gabbing. I figured that sleep would be easy.

It wasn't. I finally caught some sleep on and off after midnight. I gave up at 4:30 AM, took a shower and was wide awake, Amazingly, Priscilla, the desk clerk, had set up the breakfast counter and the food was ready by 5:30. The sausages, rolls, eggs?, orange juice, and yogurt were good, not bad for the decent price that Steve got us for the rooms at the Comfort Inn.

I waited for sunrise. I figured that there might be fog and I was right. Outside, I talked to Jimmy D for a short time, he was the only one in sight. Time to go.

The Miata was waiting. It was already loaded and with a full tank. It felt good to go and point it home.
By the time that I crossed the railroad track heading north on 135, I was already through all six gears and the cruise was set. Now I can enjoy the road, no poopability problem. By gosh, I'm motoring!

Not for long. Fog, heavy layered fog. Like my aches and pains, it comes and goes. Sometimes 65 mph with slowdowns to 35. The Gps is helpful, warning me of curves in the unfamiliar road.

So it went, until the sun burned off the fog. Salem with its huge court house, the many curves, the almost empty road, heading north on 135. Aggravating was the fact that towns had no fog but speed limits and the open road had fog but decent speed limits!

I finally made it to Brownstown. I thought briefly about turning right and going to Seymour and the I65 collection of concrete slabs. NAH! Enough of that. I turned left to catch 135 again going north. The fog had lifted and it was good!

After a short straight shoot north on 135, the road became crinkled like I knew it would and I commenced to uncrinkle it like I knew I would. It was an absolute joy to snip up and down through the gear box. I took every advantage of the easy shifting, easy revving of that Hiroshima born engine and chassis!

Before I knew it, I was at Freetown and route 58. Route 58 also has some neat curves which were in badly need of straightening. I am blessed that at 88 years of age, I can straighten a few.

Evidently, the person driving a Buick SUV riding my tail wasn't impressed.................at first. He wasn't doing all that good following me and when I came upon a 15mph sharp curve, I hung it all out. I knew that I was on the edge as the Miata's UHP summer tires protested slightly.

However, slightly wasn't how far he fell back after that. In fact, he gave up and followed me rather far back as I approached Ogilville and, unfortunately I65 . A short distance on I65 then 9 then I69, and I was back home.

No need to talk about that part.

A great gathering, a great time, and a great drive (for me)

wayne, Solo1