Our recent track record regarding motorcycle trips is not so good. We tried to head south twice and the weather was about as miserable as we could experience. Every day was close to 100 degrees (Farenheit) with humidity numbers approaching 100%. It was bad enough that we made a sharp U-turn and headed home. Mrs. Henry was adamant that she was getting a motorcycle trip this year. The weather forecast didn’t look very promising. Rain, rain, rain along with temperatures at / or near 90 degrees.

Ever the diplomat, I offered to load our luggage into our perfectly comfortable pick-up truck. That sounded like a good compromise to me. The deciding vote on the issue was not mine to make. I know it’s disappointing enough trying to live with me so my wife didn’t need an additional reason to be frustrated. I reluctantly agreed and loaded the accumulated luggage onto the motorcycles. Yep my wife will be riding her own steed on this adventure.

We just passed the 35th anniversary of our introduction. Shortly after meeting her, I asked her to accompany me on an upcoming motorcycle adventure to Virginia Beach. Much to my surprise, she agreed. She had not spent much time on the back of a bike so I’m not sure she knew what she had just agreed to. We were a lot different in those days. One of us was a smoker and lived on a liquid diet. That means frequent pit stops. One of our stops was at the New River Gorge Bridge in West “By God” Virginia (it actually says that on their license plates). That site is not a tremendous distance from the Rambling Ranch so I thought it might be time to see it again. The planning started.

On our original trip, the planning was done with the always faithful Rand-McNally Road Atlas and a hotel printed directory. The map pages were pretty worn and sometimes the lines that represent the roads were hard to decipher. We made it in spite of those challenges. One difference was at that time, we could pretty much walk into a hotel lobby and get a room without a reservation. Now, I don’t feel comfortable heading out to the night’s destination without a hotel confirmation number in my little hand. That means using some route planning software and hotel websites. I still miss Rand-McNally.

The GPS was loaded with the routes and the rainsuits were packed. I believe we are carrying the kitchen sink with us somewhere. Over the years, I got accustomed to having an enormous motorcycle with more luggage carrying capacity than two people should be filling up. We have downsized the rides but not always the amount of stuff we are carrying. You never know when you’re going to need a kids wading pool when you’re on the road.

We made it to our planned destination, Washington Courthouse, Ohio. We made 1 stop for lunch and 1 stop for gas. We got rained on 3 and a half times. Mrs. Henry handled her motorcycle like the veteran rider that she is. The rainsuits remained packed away the entire day. My jeans were pretty wet from the knees down to my ankles. The roads were wet almost the entire day. We’re still speaking to each other. After my reluctance to start this adventure and tryng to suggest the easy way out, we’re on our way to “Almost Heaven”.