The MGTV operates similar to the HOG rally contest in that you receive a passport and get it stamped by various businesses across the state, including several of the Harley dealers, but not all. The HOG passport has to be turned in on June 20, while the MGTV passport isn't due until November. Depending on the number of stamps you get, you're up for a variety of prizes.
My wife, Renee, and I made a ride a couple of weekends ago and I collected a few stamps for some of the places that were relatively near by. I can get a little obsessive, compulsive about these kinds of things and knew after the first weekend it wasn't likely I would stop until I have every stamp in both passports.
So, with passports secured in the pocket of my vest, I hopped on the Electra Glide and headed out for another weekend ride. I got a later start than I had hoped on Saturday morning and didn't get on the road until about 8:45. This put me about 45 minutes later than I really wanted to be and proved to be an important 45 minutes before the day was out.
I rolled out of Haymarket and cruised down a familiar route using US-15 and US-17. My first stop was at Fredericksburg Motorsports. The ride to Fredericksburg was uneventful and other than being a little cloudy, prospects looked good for a fine day of riding.
From Fredericksburg, I had to travel about 35 miles down I-95 to King's Dominion Amusement Park. I hate riding on interstates (I'm sure I've mentioned this before). But, I needed to make up my lost 45 minutes and I-95 was as good a way as any to do that. The parking fee at King's Dominion is $10, but I explained my reason for visiting and luckily one of the parking managers was nearby to confirm I didn't need to pay. I made the quick walk to Guest Services and stop number 2 was in the book.
The next stop required another 12 miles of I-95, but so far, the traffic on I-95 was behaving. In other words, no one had tried to run me over yet. I pulled into Richmond Harley-Davidson admidst their open house. The crowds were just beginning to arrive, so I was able to get in, get my stamp and get out without too much difficulty.
Another 10 miles of I-95 dumped me into the downtown Richmond area where I had 3 stops within about 3 miles of each other. Eaglerider Central Virigina was located in an interesting part of town on Boulevard (that's right, just Boulevard), known locally as "The Boulevard". There are a couple of BBQ restaurants and a smokin' tattoo parlor across the street. I made a mental note to visit again if the opportunity presented itself.
I took The Boulevard a couple more blocks and turned left onto Broad Street. I noticed a nice statue/monument just past Broad and I should have made a point to snap a picture of it, but as usual I kept riding. I believe the statue was of Robert E. Lee on Traveler, but it could have been Stonewall Jackson on horseback. A future visit will have to confirm my suspections as I didn't bother to go back by. I know, I'm a nimrod. I didn't take any pictures the entire first day. (This translates to a few pages of text, but there are pictures for day two, just hang in there or quickly scroll down, look at the pictures and get on with your life!)
A couple of miles down the road was the Jefferson Hotel. Unfortunately, I made my way down Broad Street along with the thousands of families and friends attending graduation ceremonies at Virginia Commonwealth University. It was slow going, but not too bad. After a few extra minutes of sitting in traffic, I popped out the other side and arrived at the Jefferson. Nice place. If I come back to visit the area and make up for the things I was bypassing on this trip, The Jefferson would be a nice place to stay, assuming I can afford it.
From the Jefferson it was a short half mile run to the Richmond Region Visitor Center where a sweet little old lady excused herself from some guests and came over to stamp my passport. She politely told the others to give her a minute while she took care of the biker. I don't know if that meant I rated above the other guests or if she just wanted to get me out of her Visitor Center before I scared away the others. Either way, I got my stamp and hit the door.
Next stop was the South Richmond Harley-Davidson Shop on Hull Street Road. (They seem to have a problem with giving streets normal names in Richmond). I was using my GPS on this ride since I didn't want to have to memorize directions for 17 different stops. So, of course the GPS took me on the toll road, which by the way, wasn't marked as a toll road until the sign announcing the 70 cents toll appeared. 70 cents! Who the hell comes up with a toll of 70 cents! Unless you're riding around with 2 dimes and 2 quarters, or God forbid, 7 dimes or 14 nickles or the various combinations thereof, 70 cents means not only digging around for money, but having to deal with the change too. What a pain in the ass!
I stopped, put the bike in neutral, dug my wallet out of my back pocket, managed to peel a $1 bill out of it with my gloves on, passed it to the attendant, got my 30 cents change back, stuffed that into my front vest pocket, (Oh yeah, that reminds me, I got some change in that vest pocket), put the bike back in gear and rolled on. Did I mention this was a pain in the ass?!
I continued on down this fine toll road only to discover another toll plaza about 5 miles further. And guess what!? The toll was another 70 cents. You have got to be kidding me! To save paper, please refer to the paragraph above explaining the next few minutes of my life. (For all the blonds that might read this be sure to skip this paragraph when you re-read the paragraph above. I don't want you stuck in an infinite loop.)
Done, good, glad to have you back. So, off I go again on this wonderful toll road finally reaching my exit. Of course, there's another toll booth only this time it's 50 cents. Cool, I have 2 quarters in my vest pocket from the previous change. No problem, except that no matter how hard I try, I cannot retrieve those 2 quarters with my gloves on...dammit!
So, put the bike in neutral (actually it was already in neutral), pull off my left glove, dig into my front vest pocket, pull out (no, not the 2 quarters, but 1 quarter and 1 dime, along with some paper I didn't even know was in there), dig some more, finally retrieve the second quarter, hand over my 2 quarters to the nice lady, put my glove back on (see I didn't have to get any change this time), put the bike in gear and roll on. Ay yi yi!
I got my stamp at South Richmond H-D and (avoiding anymore toll roads) headed for Prince George, Virginia and Colonial H-D. The day was becoming more overcast as I traveled south and east. The temperature was pretty comfortable, but it was beginning to look like it could rain at any time. I decided to do a little shopping at Colonial and found a t-shirt to add to the collection along with a nice heavy denim long-sleeved shirt that could double as a light jacket later tonight and tomorrow morning when it would be a little cooler. Burcham Cycles (the next stop) was within eyesight of Colonial, so a quick run there ensured a couple more stamps in the passports.
By the time I left Burcham's it was a little past 2 in the afternoon and the day was beginning to slip away. I had 3 more Harley dealers I needed to hit before 5 and they were all in the Virginia Beach area about 80 miles away. I had 2 stops scheduled before reaching the first of the dealers, so I needed to get going.
I made the 35 mile run to Wakefield and stopped at the Virginia Diner, a local favorite and popular tourist stop for people headed to Virginia Beach. It was also featured on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives with Guy Fieri on the Food Channel. Even though I knew time was short, I decided to have a grilled ham and cheese sandwich at the Diner before getting my passport stamped and continuing.
By this time it was 3PM and I still had a good hour to go before hitting the first of the 3 Harley shops. That only left me with an hour to get to the other 2. I decided to bypass my next stop based on the decision to work it into the equation on Sunday. I called Hampton Roads H-D to see if they were open on Sunday. If they were, I could easily move them to Sunday's ride and head straight for Bayside and Southside H-D. Of course, as luck would have it, Hampton Roads H-D was closed on Sunday.
So, I made a command level decision. I would go from Virginia Diner to Bayside H-D and then, depending on the time available, see if I could get Hampton Roads and Southside in before they closed. This turned out to be one of a couple of mistakes I would make over the course of the next 24 hours.
I arrived at Bayside H-D about 5 minutes before 4. I got my passport stamped and asked about the possibility of making it to Hampton Roads and Southside H-D within an hour. "No chance", was the reply. Then came a piece of news that made me kick myself for the next couple of hours. Bayside is open on Sundays. I could have bee-lined for Hampton Roads and probably made it to Southside in time if I had only known I could move Bayside to the Sunday stops. What a dumbass!
Now I had to decide which dealer to hit next. I decided on Hampton Roads using the following screwed up logic. If I had to come back to Virginia Beach next week Renee was going to be furious with me. So, to eliminate the pain that was going to cause me, I would invite Renee to come with me. Since Renee loves the beach, I would offer her a ride to the beach and she could enjoy the day at the beach while I took care of a visit to the H-D dealer to get my precious stamp. Since that was the plan, I decided to head for Hampton Roads now and return to Southside (closer to the beach) next week. Good plan, huh?
I jumped on the bike and hauled ass to Hampton Roads H-D, about 37 miles away. I made it there in time and got my stamps, plus a pair of H-D jeans that were on sale. Cheaper than normal, but not cheap. They tried to sell me a t-shirt, but I have so many H-D tees that I only buy them now if I really like the name of the store. Hampton Roads H-D didn't trip my trigger, so I begged off on the t-shirt.
I decided to go ahead and make a run for Southside. I had a hotel room booked near there anyway, so I figured, what the heck, I might be able to get there before everyone left the building and might get lucky. It was another 40 miles or so to Southside and I didn't get there until 5:30. As I past the front of the store, I saw people were still inside.
I parked the bike and walked to the front door. I met a lady on her way out of the store. I explained my situation to her and while she listened patiently, she sent me packing; politely, but packing nonetheless. She told me the Motorclothes girls were gone and the stamp was locked up. However, she graciously (tongue in cheek) offered their assistance on Monday.
As things stood right now, I was going to have a stamp from every H-D dealer in the Commonwealth of Virginia in my HOG passport except Southside. Southside H-D just lept to the top of my Shit List. But, it was my fault not theirs, so what're you gonna do? I'll figure out something between now and next week. (I actually came up with a great solution to the problem and assuming Southside comes through, they'll be officially removed from the Shit List. I can't tell you what it is until I'm sure it works.)
Bummed out and rejected, mumbling under my breath, I made my way to the hotel to relax a little and take a shower before going to grab some dinner. As luck would have it (or good planning on my part) the local Hooters was only a mile up the road. After the shower, I headed for a cold beer at Hooters. I stopped for gas on the way and received an interesting call from Renee.
Renee and Pata in happier timesShe was still in the backyard of our house when she called to tell me our Husky/Malamute mix, named Pata, (Hey he had it when we got him from the shelter. No, I don't know what it means and I'm not even entirely sure how to pronounce it.) had made the great escape and was out terrorizing the neighborhood. The other two times this has happened he had his collar on and within an hour we received a call letting us know where we could go pick him up. This time though he had backpedaled on Renee and slipped his head out of his collar. You have to understand that since shedding his undercoat for the summer, his head is about 4 inches thinner now. Anyway, he was loose and running without id. This could only be trouble.
Once Pata gets loose it's balls to the wall. He runs in a straight line as fast as he can go. No stopping to sniff, no peeing, just run like hell. So, knowing there wasn't a thing she could do, I told her not to worry about him and he'd turn up eventually. We rescued him from a shelter and as part of the deal they implanted him with a chip for identification. It was only a matter of time before he'd reappear assuming he didn't get his ass shot while foraging through the neighborhood.
This put a bit of a damper on the evening, so I visited Hooters for a beer (That's right, a single beer) and headed back to the hotel. There was a Lone Star Steakhouse next door to the hotel, so I decided to have dinner there. A couple of beers and a nice steak put an end to a pretty good day of riding, although, I have to admit, I was a little worried about the dog.
Early morning, but could have been sunrise, (if I had been there a couple of hours earlier) on the Chesapeake BayI awoke Sunday morning to clear skies and after wiping the dew off the bike from the 90% humidity, I got day two underway. First stop this morning was the Sea Gull Pier Restaurant on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Tunnel (CBBT). Of course, there's a toll to cross the CBBT and it ain't cheap. I stopped at the booth and was instructed to hand over 12 hard-earned dollars. Holy cow! I told the kind lady I was only going to the restaurant and would be returning. "Oh, I see, then it's only $12", she said. "Do I have to pay another $12 when I return", I asked. "No, not if you're only going to the restaurant", she replied. Damn, these toll booths are beginning to get on my last nerve. $12 lighter, I was off to breakfast at the Sea Gull Pier Restaurant.
My only reason for going to CBBT was to get a stamp from this damned restaurant. But, I have to admit, even the short 3 mile ride to the restaurant was pretty pleasurable riding over the water with the sun rising on my right. CBBT is almost 23 miles of bridges and tunnels crossing the Chesapeake Bay and was built without any local, state or federal tax dollars. Hell, in today's stimulus package mentality, that's pretty impressive.
The sign at the restaurant on CBBT, note the Sea Gull Pier Restaurant at the northbound entrance to the first tunnel (lower left) - It's like you're there with meAfter razzing the waitresses a bit, I had a simple breakfast of 1 egg sunnyside up, ham and wheat toast. I scarfed down breakfast, snapped a few pictures, and headed for the bike to return to Virginia Beach and the other 12 or so stops planned for the day.
The Electra Glide ready to roll, looking back toward Virginia Beach from the CBBTI jumped on the bike and headed for Frank's Truck Stop in Chesapeake, Virginia, just south of Hampton Roads. I didn't realize until Monday evening that...
I FAILED TO GET MY PASSPORT STAMPED AT THE SEA GULL PIER RESTAURANT!!! SHIIIITTTTT!!!
You have got to be kidding me. A $12 toll and no damn stamp. I am an ass! Oh well, I have an excuse to make another ride to the CBBT again sometime before November. It just means my Sea Gull Pier Restaurant stamp will cost me $24 assuming they don't raise the toll between now and then. Thank God I didn't realize I had screwed up until Monday or I would probably still be trying to beg my way back on the CBBT without having to pay another $12.
There isn't much to say about Frank's Truck Stop except that I got my stamp. From there it was on to Smithfield Station (one of the stops I skipped, along with Frank's, on Saturday when I was trying to get to the Harley dealers.) Smithfield Station is a nice restaurant and inn right on a tributary to the James River. It was a really pretty place that I'll have to visit again with Renee. Another stamp and I was on my way, still oblivious to my failed CBBT stamp.
Smithfield Station - I wanted my friends in LA (Lower Alabama) to see we have spectacular river fronts and views here in Virginia too
Another view of the river in SmithfieldFrom Smithfield Station it was back up to the Hampton Roads and Newport News area to collect a series of stamps. First stop was the Newport News Visitor Center where I was pleasantly greeted by the two ladies working the desk. I think they were just bored out of their minds on a Sunday morning, but we chatted for few minutes, I got my stamp and off I went none the worse for wear.
It was the next three stops that led me to the Virginia promised land. I can understand why the area around Yorktown, Jamestown and Williamsburg was settled 400-plus years ago. Yorktown was terrific. Small, quaint, and it had a nice little beach on the York River that was pretty nice. And, the best part, right across the street from the beach was the Yorktown Pub. This is the perfect spot for Renee and me. She can lay on the beach and I can sit in the barstool across the street.
The beach at Yorktown
And equally impressive, the Yorktown Pub across the street from the beachI parked the bike in the, get this, FREE, parking garage and wandered off to find my three stops in Yorktown, all within easy walking distance. First stop, Historic Yorktown, which I expected to find in an ancient old building, but instead turned out to be the local Baskin-Robbins ice cream parlor. Still, I got my stamp and headed to the next stop, the Riverwalk Restaurant and Rivah Cafe.
The schooner Alliance pulling away from the dock in YorktownIt was only about 11 AM at this time and the restaurant wasn't open yet, but the gift shop next door was. So, the lady in the gift shop peaked into the restaurant and saw people inside. She unlocked the door separating the two and sent me in to collect my stamp. Now that's service. Take note Southside H-D.
The Riverwalk area in YorktownAnd, like all good plans, this series of stops saved the best for last. You guessed it. The third stop in Yorktown was the Yorktown Pub. They had just opened and still there were already 8 or 10 customers who beat me into the place. I had a cold cream ale and talked with the waitresses who were gearing up for a busy day. From there it was on to a few more stops as I started making my way back to Northern Virginia and the bustling city of Haymarket.
I had three stops left. Two of them were good for stamps and one was just 'cause. The "just 'cause" stop was first on the list, Revolutionary Harley-Davidson. Remember my comment about only buying t-shirts if the named sounded good. This name sounded good. Too bad their t-shirts and decals sucked. It was a strike out.
Next stop was Berret's Seafood Restaurant and Taphouse Grill in Williamsburg. Since it was lunch time, I considered grabbing a seat at the bar in Berret's and having some lunch. But, when I walked up to the Hostess stand the guy there was so snobby about stamping my passport, I decided to say, "Screw it" and rode out. I guess he didn't want "my kind" in his restaurant. Not sure and don't care! Well, apparently I do care, but I'm over it, maybe.
I did ride around Williamsburg a bit and snapped a couple of pictures from the bike.
The fort area in Williamsburg from the seat of the bike on a slow rollFrom Old Williamsburg it was off to New Williamsburg and the Prime Outlet Mall for the last stamp of the trip. I rode into the mall and found the food court and guest services so I could collect that last stamp of the day. Mission accomplished it was on the bike and I-64 west back to Richmond. I circled Richmond to the north on I-295 and jumped off at US-33 to take the path less traveled back home.
I chose this route because I couldn't resist passing through Bumpass, Virginia. What a great name! I'm going to have to find out how that place got its name. Anyway, Buckner Road to Pottiesville Road (I swear I'm not making these names up) and then Kentucky Springs Road, along Lake Anna, dumped me onto US-522 where I turned north. I made a quick stop for a bag of Doritos and a Gatorade and then made a beeline for home. I still had a missing dog to deal with.
That story ends on a positive note, unless you're Renee and can't stand the dog. We got a call Sunday afternoon letting us know he was at the county animal shelter. I was able to pick him up on Monday and he's back home tormenting Renee all over again.
Long story made just a little bit longer: Great weekend ride of slightly more than 600 miles. Lots of fun and very refreshing to get out and ride even though Pata's excursion added a little stress into it. But, all's well that ends well.
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