Introduction

I don’t remember when my passion for the battle of Gettysburg began, but it was likely about the time I was introduced through C-span, to the premier writer of Civil War history, Shelby Foote.  His southern drawl and relaxed manner captivated me as I sat for hours listening to him weave the story of those three horrific days in July of 1863 thread by thread.
From that time until now my passion to learn more about the Gettysburg campaign has increased and my most recent motorcycle trip to Gettysburg, was a natural outgrowth of that passion.

Trip Planning

Throughout the cold and dark winter evenings of January 2010, I formulated my motorcycle touring plans for the upcoming riding season and the first ride I put on the calendar was an early summer tour to the small borough of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
Tour dates: June 4-6, 2010
Route: I-70/76 east to highway 30 south
Distance: 407 miles one way
Lodging: Tent camp at Artillery Ridge in Gettysburg.

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June 4th, Day 1

Volatile storms had moved across the Buckeye State the night before my departure.  I awakened Friday morning to the waning rumbles of thunder and a slight mist of precipitation, the forecast for the next three days was calling for more of the same.   I had not planned this trip as thoroughly as I do most of my adventures, it’s not that I usually plan every small detail, but on this tour I didn’t plan any detail!  My only goals for this day were to visit the Flight 93 Memorial, which is located about two hours west of Gettysburg, near the small town of Shanksville, population 245, and secondly, to have my tent set up in Gettysburg before dusk.  I had purposed to feel the natural rhythm of the day and flow with it.  I threw a few clothes in my saddle bag, strapped on my camping gear, and headed out.  As I rolled out of my driveway the motorcycle’s clock read 9:30 a.m. Day 1, was underway.
At the time of my departure the skies had cleared and traffic on Interstate 70 was light.   As I settled in to the saddle, I went through my mental checklist;

• Turned off lights
• Locked the door
• Camping gear
• Wallet
• Sunscreen
• Tied down bag securely
• Cell phone
• Check tire pressure
• Spare key

Assured that all was well, I rolled on the throttle, leaned back against my backrest and purposed to chew up some asphalt.
I followed I-70 through Ohio, West Virginia, and soon entered the great state of Pennsylvania.  I continued about 70 miles east of Pittsburgh, where I stopped to pay my respects to those passengers who lost their lives on Flight 93 on September 11, 2001.
After visiting the Flight 93 memorial, which I will write about in a separate article, I leisurely rode highway 30, for another twenty five miles, along that brief ribbon of road I made several stops;

• Mt Ararat, a peak in the Allegheny Mountains some 2500 feet high with scenic views of the countryside.
• A field of giant windmills near Shawnee State Park.   I was stunned by their size.
• The Colvin Covered Bridge, a multiple king-post bridge built in 1894 that is still drivable.

I had spent more time than anticipated enjoying my little side excursions and now it was time to make my way to Gettysburg.  I backtracked to Interstate 70/76 now called the Pennsylvania Turnpike, and continued east.  Off in the distance, but directly ahead of me, I could see the skies were ominous and the smell of rain filled the air, I knew from experience this wasn’t going to be good.
It was nearing 6:45 p.m. as I approached the toll booths at the famed Breezewood exit on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.   As I paid my toll I noticed the wet pavement and debris blowing at my feet,  it was obvious that a major storm had just passed through here, and I became well aware it was just a matter of time before I caught up with this bad boy.

Gettysburg, is approximately one hour southeast of Breezewood on highway 30, which by the way, is a wonderful motorcycling road; complete with twists, turns, smooth pavement, and breathtaking scenery of the Allegheny mountain ranges.  Following my southward trek, bold flashes of lightning brightly shined against an ever blackening sky, this was no passing spring shower, this was going to get nasty.

When you tour long distances on a motorcycle you are going to get wet!  That is a reality, but there is a difference between riding in the rain, and riding in a dangerous storm.  I am no meteorologist, but from many personal experiences I knew this was a dangerous storm and there was no way I was going to avoid it.  Realizing my initial plan of camping in Gettysburg was not going to be feasible, I began recalculating my lodging options.

• Do I try to make it to Gettysburg?
• Do I hole up in a town before Gettysburg?

The only problem with option two is most of the towns and boroughs that line this lonely two lane stretch of highway don’t even have a stop light, let alone a hotel.  I decided to make a run for Chambersburg, a medium sized town about 20 miles down the road.  I was certain they would have a hotel and more importantly a good a bar!

With that decision made, I rode with purpose toward my new destination.   All the while the storm increased on both sides of me, the lightning and thunder intensified, rain was coming down in the fields on both sides of the highway, I was amazed that I wasn’t getting drenched yet.  The sky was ebony and the wind was swirling, I was continuously being pummeled with powerful downdrafts which shook the motorcycle violently, I felt like I was in the fifteenth round of a prize fight.

After what seemed like an eternity of battling the wind and observing the power of mother nature all around me, I arrived at a Chambersburg hotel,  I grabbed some gear out of the tank bag, and walked into the lobby.  I had just stepped inside when the skies opened up and let loose a torrential rain.  It was almost as if the heavens waited until I was safe to unleash its fury and I was thankful.

Safely in my room, I began to review my day, I had been on the road for 10 hours, 9 of which were without incident, but frankly, the last hour had worn me out both physically and mentally!  Then I remembered how fortunate I was to have viewed some beautiful scenery, pay my respects to some true American heroes, and to be on the road, touring.  After an hour or so, the violent storm had rolled through the area and it was time to eat.  Day1, was coming to a close and I was ready for a good meal, a cold beer, and a soft bed.

If you are interested in viewing a few photos from Day 1, click here.

Tags: Covins Covered Bridge, Gettysburg, Mt Ararat, Shelbe Foote

This entry was posted on Monday, June 14th, 2010 at 6:43 am and is filed under ride report. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.