You can Fly on Wheels as well as on Wings

        Article and Pictures by Brian Gilomen, with thoughts by Barry Ward

At a time when the Midwest weather is not cooperating, it's nice to have options.  Options in the form of a seat on a Southwest Airline flight to Orlando, a friend who has both a condo in Cocoa Beach and a son who works for Ryder Truck, and 5 buddies who love to ride motorcycles almost as much as they love to fly.  So began the Second Annual Flying Hogs Daytona Bike Week trip.

This year it was a little different.  Last year we could only interest three guys in the trip:  me, Vance and Jim.  Therefore, we were able to take the LorenzanaPartyVan™, towing our three bikes in Jim's brand new ExpensiveCustomTrailer™.  But this year we had six guys (me, Vance, Jim, Barry, Kevin and Bob), six bikes, two pallets of gear and all the crap that Vance needed to bring along for his extended stay after the close of Bike Week for a trade show.  Logistical planning necessitated the Super-Sizing of our caravan.  It was thus agreed that we would rent a 26-foot Ryder Truck at a dirt-cheap rate through Jim's son's connections, carefully immobilize said bikes using Vance's ingenious lumber, lag-bolt and strap SixBikeTie-DownSystem™, and drive said Ryder truck with enclosed bikes and gear to FL with a two-man crew to meet up with the 4 guys who would fly down.

I flew down with Barry, (replete with a valise of 7 different personal audio earphones, none of which would work with his bogus PDA-based MP3 player), and that laugh riot, Bob:

Jim was already down in FL.  Vance and Kevin were manhandling the Big Rig the 1250 miles from Oswego to the Land of Sun, Bikes and Babes-in-Bikinis™.

You guys and gals are all pilots, not interior decorators, so pictures and descriptions of Jim and Janice's newly-remodeled Cocoa Beach Condo would be surely be lost on you.  Suffice it to say that it was a palace that we were not at all worthy of.  Thus, we proceeded to trash the place so as to make ourselves feel more comfortable.  And, because you guys and gals are all pilots, and couldn't care less about endless pictures of bodacious bikes and bodacious  babes.  Suffice it to say that there were adequate quantities of each as far as the eye could see.

Oh; all right.  I hear your clamoring.  Here is a sample.  (No Vance; your favorite Babe is not represented herein):

Much fun was had by all.  We rode endlessly on our motorcycles (several of us covered more than 1000 miles); we drank Scotch and Wine and Mudslides and smoked cigars; we slept very little; we devoured boxes of Raisin Bran and pots of coffee; we took long walks on the beach (Barry thought it was romantic, that old softy); we saved turtles at the side of the road from certain death; and four of us spent the day at Cape Kennedy (a shuttle was on the pad for a lift-off in barely two days!):

Alas, it all eventually came to an end.  We spent a l-o-n-g time repacking the Big Rig Ryder Truck, ending up with the bikes, gear, and stuff that Jim was moving back to IL filling the load bed to within 4 inches of the back door.  I had agreed to be one of the drivers on the return trip and Barry -- who originally was going to fly both legs -- generously volunteered to drive back with me so that our host, Jim, could stay at his own condo a little while longer.  I'll turn the keyboard over to Barry, who sent us a most excellent recap a while ago from his perspective:

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"Gentlemen:

I would echo all of Kevin’s [emailed] comments with one caveat.

Our Daytona vacation wasn’t exactly what I anticipated… it was an order of magnitude better!

Thank you for including me in this epic sojourn. I had a fantastic time. I can’t wait until I get the CD with all of the pictures.

The truck ride back with Brian was a gas. We worked very well together as a team. As each of us took a turn driving the other did his best to keep the driver alert with stimulating conversation. Although I tried to hold my own, as you might have guessed, Brian was much better than I was. Boy, can that guy talk. However, we did manage to maintain an average of 50 miles an hour including stops for meals and gas.

The drive was painless except for the small stint of nighttime though the mountains. The truck was great; it handled well and was very maneuverable in the parking lots despite its size. Brian and I were both a little concerned about the height of the truck, especially when it came to the canopies over the gas pumps. Of course the stations were designed with trucks in mind, but we had to be sure so we each had the other step outside and check as we pulled into a station for the first time. I believe Brian and I both enjoyed the rumble of the diesel engine under the load of pulling away from a stop or climbing a hill and it wasn’t long before we both started to mimic the sound of the air breaks as the pump topped off the reservoir and vented ‘tssssh’.

We spent the night in a small motel outside of Nashville after driving from 8:58 am Sunday till 12:35 AM Monday. We were on the road again by 7:51 am after gassing up at the station next door to the motel. That included unpacking, sleep, showers, packing and a complimentary breakfast of, what else, RAISIN BRAN! Oh, and a not so quick run across the street to McDonald’s to get a decent cup of coffee. (It was neither quick nor decent.)

The drive through the last of Tennessee and all of Kentucky was a delight. There was a gentle rolling landscape with a mixture of trees and some very green grass. As we made our way though Kentucky we passed though summer to winter as if someone had dragged a sick across the sand. As we were commenting on the lush green grass we suddenly crossed an invisible line, snow on the ground. This cleared up slowly as we entered the bleaker and much flatter farmlands of Illinois.

Brian and I agreed to follow 24 all the way to 57 (Brian’s idea) to avoid both Indianapolis and especially Gary around rush hour. We have both been sorry to be on 80 and 65 during any time where there is a possibility of traffic. This plan worked very well except for a bumpy stretch of road (about 20 miles of rt.102) outside of Bourbonnais.

We arrived at Vance’s warehouse at about 5:03 PM (local time). Karen was there to let us in and Bob showed up moments later to help unload. With the precision of a drill team we had the luggage unloaded and sorted, bikes removed and lined up against the wall. The bike rack was disassembled and stored on a pallet for next time and Jim’s chair and miscellaneous boxes were loaded back into the truck. Gear for Bob, Barry and Kevin was loaded into Bob’s SUV and Brian’s gear was placed in the cab of the truck. This all took less than an hour and a half. Brian was on his way to Jim’s house to drop off the truck and Bob drove me home. Bob then proceeded to Kevin’s house to drop off all of Kevin’s luggage and gear. Thanks Bob and Karen.

Thanks again Jim!"