Return To Mansfield 2008 - Day 1 - Amphibious Mountain Assault
Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty & well preserved body…but rather to skid in sideways, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, champagne & strawberries in hand, loudly proclaiming “Wow–What a ride!”
On Friday May 16th, 2008 forty die hard Harley Davidson Enthusiasts from the First State HOG chapter in Delaware embarked on an adventure that will be remembered for a lifetime. We experienced rain, sleet, fog and cold temperatures. Like Marines training for amphibious assault missions we endured everything Mother Nature threw at us and kept to our mission. The wetter we got the more we laughed. The colder we got the more we huddled together in defiance. We were determined to enjoy our two wheeled vacation!
I was surprised that everyone showed up Friday morning at the Prices Corner Boston Market. It was drizzling and everyone one was wearing their raingear. All twenty six First State HOG riders and their passengers left at 0900 hrs as scheduled. Darrel Willis decided that he was going to pass on the trip, but he was present to see us off.
Forty minutes later we pulled into the Wawa in Gap, PA soaking wet for our first pit stop. I announced that this would be a good time for anyone who wanted to abandon the mission. No one was backing out. It was clear that we were all dedicated, or just insane. So far we had been assaulted by killer rain drops that were accumulating in tree branches and waiting for us to ride by. They nailed us in the face, often times right between the eyes. Those trees have taken sniper training, I know it! We regrouped and initiated our invasion into the Amish farmlands of Lancaster, Pennsylvania.
I acted as the Road Captain leading the way. Al Donofrio took up the Wingman position. Al has a CB radio and was in charge of communications with our Tail Gunner and other CB enabled riders. Lem McMaster took up the rear as he is our ace Tail Gunner. We rolled up Route 772 which is listed as one of America’s Scenic Byways. We encountered a few Amish buggies and successfully passed them on the tight twisty farm roads despite the slippery conditions and limited vision. Just as Al and I were starting to feel comfortable our eyes simultaneously popped out of our heads. A truck hauling a load of lumber encroached upon our lane! It was coming straight at us! Our hearts pounded, eyes stared in disbelief and adrenaline pumped! I gently pulled my bike to the right and Al stayed the course. The truck must have passed whatever it was attempting to avoid and pulled back into its own lane in the nick of time. The gush of adrenaline through my body charged me up! I love this stuff! We don’t do fear! This is awesome! I’m alive and not just another cubicle rat! I may be cold and wet, but damn it I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing! That’s what it’s about to be an American!
When we arrived at the next check point in Manheim, PA we noticed we had lost some men along the way. A traffic light divided us before we made our transition from Route 772 to Route 72. It appeared that seven bikes from our squadron had kept navigating up Route 772 North. We were able to make contact by cell phone with Bill Fonda, Skip Phifield and Gary Singleton. Lem and Nic McMaster were in radio contact with us as well as Chris Mood. That left one unaccounted for member of our team. Old School Bob was MIA! Nic helped corral up the troops and brought them back to our checkpoint at the Sunoco in Manheim. Lem fired up his Screaming Eagle Ultra and prepared himself to go into heavy ground to bring back Old School. Once Lem and his Copilot Darlene located our dear friend they all returned to our temporary base at the Sunoco. All of our fighters were once again united and stood defiant against the storm. We fueled up, emptied our bladders and grabbed a snack. Once again we mounted our Harleys, fired up the V-Twins and hit the road.
We successfully navigated our way through twisty roads and finally had to jump on an expressway. We crossed the Susquehanna River on 322 and pulled into our third checkpoint, a truck stop, at 1400 hr. It was time to hit the head, tear off the raingear and sit down for a warm lunch. Some of our hard as nails soldiers ate hot dogs and were ready to hit the road immediately. Those guys must be trained to eat things that would make a billy goat sick. Paul Vinson and his reconnaissance team from New Jersey dined on Subway sandwiches. They were also ready to hit the road quickly. The other half of the regiment was still eating in the truck stop restaurant.
Paul’s team of five bikes left early and flew directly to the Cross Roads Bed & Breakfast in Mansfield, PA non-stop. Along the way Lynn Erb was hit by a gust of wind that blew her and her Fat Boy a few feet off course but she regained control and arrived in Mansfield safely. Lem & Nic lead a second team of eleven bikes. They were hit by frozen rain but it didn’t faze them and they arrived at West’s Motel in Mansfield without incident. I waited for the final group who was served last at the mess hall. I lead the dirty dozen up Route 15. While coming up Route 15 the temperature was dropping fast. Skip who was wearing inferior raingear was wet and tired. He pulled out of formation and signaled me to pull over. He notified me that this was the end of the road for him. He was going to find the closest warm hotel and call it a night. He did not want us to come with him, he instructed me to continue on with the mission as daylight was growing short. I needed to get my team to our rendezvous at West’s before dark. We made one fuel stop and headed up into the mountains. It was cold, the rain was freezing and we were exhausted. Everyone was fixated on their odometers and counting the miles. Diana was so cold she wanted to cry. We finally pulled into West’s where everyone checked in. We laid our wet clothes on the base boards in the hotel rooms to dry them off. We put on dry clothes and went to dinner.
Proud of our accomplishment and relieved to be dry we ate in triumph! While we ate the sun came out briefly and there was a rainbow over Cox’s Northern Tier Harley Davidson in Mansfield, PA. We took this as a good sign and then we took over West’s Restaurant. Ate dinner and had a great time. Ray Ginn and Harvey Strauss kept us laughing. I need to talk to their agents and try to get them on contract for all my trips. Great fun was had by all. We called it a night at 2230 hrs.
