I have no idea what time we woke up, nor do I have a clue as to what time we left... I think it was late morning. Who cares...
Drewpy dropped off most of his shit with Psycho and we hit the road. The plan was to meander our way towards Knoxville, meet up with Trip, and hit some good roads on the way to The Gap...
Well, we meandered and Drewpy showed me some pretty sweet roads on the way out to meet Trip... Roads so good in fact, that we hit one twice... Centerhill or some shit. Either way, we ran late.
We stopped along the way to gas up and got in touch with Trip to change meeting destinations... or more like, figure out where the hell both parties were...
Eventually we found our way to meet up...
While Drewpy had done a pretty good job of perpetuating the forum rumor that him and I were riding two up on the RC, Trip did not seem especially surprised by me rolling up on a new rig. We exchanged courtesies and they poked fun at my red carbon fiber.
Getting back on the road and heading to The Gap was not especially eventful... in fact, I really don't even remember much about the ride at that point... We ate at some BBQ place that was pretty good... I do however, remember when we finally hit US129...
It started out benign enough, some sweepers, nothing too impressive... still fun. Then all of a sudden the road starts getting tighter and the scenery starts engulfing the road... then... HOLY SHIT THIS ROAD IS RETARDED!
Someone once told me that NOTHING would prepare me for this 11 mile stretch of tarmac... I blew them off, 'whatever, I've ridden twisties'... Well... Nothing prepared me for this road.
No video, no picture, no description has ever done this road justice. The grade is much steeper than I had pictured... the turns were tighter and seemingly never-ending. The road appeared as if it were having a seizure down the side of the mountain. Wow.
I'll be quite honest... I was scared. Not OMG, I'm gonna die sorta scared... more like WTF is NEXT scared! It probably didn't help that I was on a bike I wasn't used to (yeah 2k miles of highway riding doesn't do shit to prepare you for a road this gnarley)... the fact that I had probably 100lbs of gear on the back couldn't have helped either...
At any rate, I went slow... damn slow. Trip and Drewpy got ahead and kept going... the advantage of having ridden the road before... especially one that is comprised of blind corner after blind corner after blind corner...
So I took my time and enjoyed the ride... I came to a clearing and saw the store with Trip and Drewpy, but fuck 'em... I kept going... Let's see where this thing goes...
Turns out it gets a little more timid past the store and turns back into big sweepers kinda like on the way in... Next thing you know, I see Trip in my mirror... "you missed the turn"... 'nope, I meant to that.'
We go back to the store and there's Gramps and Nighthawk... I dismount and my legs were like jello... Jeebus, I felt like a noob!
I take a minute to regroup, unload all my shit into Ben's (the stores owner) office, and we make a couple more runs. Recognize that by this time Drewpy has already gone back out and is about a run and a half ahead of me...
My pass back through was much better... I had a pretty good feel for the flow of the road and got a lot more comfortable with my machine. About halfway through, Drewpy passes me and I notice his top bag is hanging off the side of the bike... dumbass. I pick up the pace a little to catch up with him, but I take a second to recognize through one particular decreasing radius turn, that I'm probably pushing myself beyond where I should at this stage of the game so I ease up.
We meet up at the overlook and take a quick second to attach Drewpy's bag. Maybe it happened earlier, maybe it happened then... I don't know, but I think this may have been where I gave Drewpy my kneepucks. I wasn't draggin' knees, but he was... the sun was setting and he wanted to make sparks... coolio.
The my third Dragon run, continued my progress. I was running faster, but still had a couple 'Oh Shit!' moments as I came in hot on a few turns and/or misjudged the apex... Nothing real hairy, but enough to make me recognize my limits. Drewpy was running at a slower place to ensure I could see him throw sparks with my pucks... He did, like once. He said after that run that he was going too slow to get the knee down well... I didn't bother to tell him it was probably because he cranks on the brakes right before leaning in...
Back at the store I take note of the fact that I have completely removed all of the chicken strips from my tires... It's not that I was really going all that fast, but rather more like my tire profile blows ass and my suspension settings were fucked. It still felt good.
By this time the store was closing and people were leaving... We were going to stick around to watch the mini-motard races and worry about setting up camp later...
The mini races were pretty entertaining... some of those guys really railed on those little bikes... I am not sure if anyone really won, but everyone had a good time. Drewpy tried his hand at crashing... err... riding Trip's 50... I would have, but I was exhausted... Just after 10pm, the fun was put on hold until another day...
After a fair bit of BS'ing, we decide to head to camp... It happened to be 11 miles down the road... not the 318 turns in 11 miles, 11 miles, but twisty either way. Is this a bad time to mention that the optometrist once told me that I shouldn't drive at night?
Major pucker factor on the way out... Nighthawk led (with a tinted visor), I was in the middle (with terrible nightvision), and Drewpy - the one best equipped to lead - took up the rear. The air was cold and there were snakes and frogs and shit in the road... It's amazing I didn't crash.
At one point Nighthawk got out ahead of me a little and I lost him on a couple blind turns... Terrible. I literally couldn't see the road AT ALL. It was pure instinct and stupidity that kept me from falling off the side of the mountain, but we made it.
We get to camp, set up shop, split a little Rum and Dr. Pepper (Nighthawk bought the rum outside of Kansas City!), were mildly annoyed by some crazy loud Mexicans who were camping not too far away, and then hit the sack.