Station’s Inn Ride
It was a great ride on Sunday, August 9, 2009. My riding buddy Bob Lieberman and I met the group at Open Road Cycles at 9:3oam. As we stood in the parking lot waiting for the others, many of us huddled in the shade of a giant billboard. The predicted high temp of the day was about 95° and we were already feeling the heat. At 10am we fired up the bikes and got underway. The wind in our faces delivered some relief from the heat as we drove up Hwy 16, then headed east through Catawba and on to Statesville where we headed north driving past Wilkesboro. Our final leg towards Laurel Springs was a glorious drive through scenic rolling hills, slowly climbing to higher altitudes and cooler temperatures.
We arrived at Station’s Inn around noon, parking our bikes in the lot across the street from the Inn. Looking around the parking lot it was obvious that we were not the first to arrive. Dozens of bikes were lined up one after the other. We took awhile to look around before crossing the street where we sat down to enjoy lunch outside on the porch at the Inn’s restaurant. The food was good and we were happy to be under some shade drinking something cold and meeting some of the other bikers who drove in from various locations. Every couple of minutes we would look up as another group drove around the corner and pulled into the lot. A live band was scheduled to start around 2pm, but we had to get back on the road if we wanted to get back home on time.
We left Station’s Inn around 1:30, heading west towards Boone. The road seemed like an endless series of graceful twists and turns under a welcome canopy of high trees blocking most of the afternoon sun. As we got closer towards Boone the shade slowly thinned and as we pulled into a gas station to fill our tanks we sought shelter in the shade. Sipping a cold bottle of water, I knew that the next couple hours traveling south on 321 was going to get hotter. And it did. As the elevation decreased the temperature increased and as every mile went on it seemed like the asphalt below our wheels was getting hotter and hotter.
Leaving 321 at Startown Road, we made one last pit stop before setting out for the last half hour of driving. One by one riders had broken off from the group until only four of us were left. And then there were two, and then one. As I pulled into my driveway I turned the key and dismounted my ride. My legs were wobbly, my arms, face and neck sunburnt and I needed another cool drink badly. All in all it had been a great day riding.