Road Trip for Road Skill Development
(Michael writes)
I have a great opportunity this week to develop my riding skills through the expert tutelage of the mentors of the Yamaha Champions Riding School. But first, I had to get there.
The course was being run on the Marine Corps Base in Quantico, VA, about 175 miles north of home. My plan was to ride north on the interstate as far as Newport News, then turn off onto US 17 for a longer and slower (but more scenic) ride.
US 17 provides two experiences. It bisects numerous smaller communities and offers a glimpse into small town Americana. I didn’t have the time to stop, but if I had, I would have been able to enjoy the history of places like Yorktown (one of the eight original shires of colonial Virginia), Tappahannock (the oldest town in Essex County), and Fredericksburg (home to four Civil War battlefields).
On either side of these smaller communities, the road wound lazily through farmland and forested parkways. I knew that the extra time and slower pace was worth being able to travel this more peaceful route, and with the exception of the occasional glance at the fuel gauge I was able to enjoy the scenery, serenaded through my helmet speakers by Anne Murray, Jim Croce, John Denver and a few others.
After settling into my hotel room in Quantico, I decided it would be prudent to locate the training area where the course would be taught. Once I entered MCB Quantico, I was surprised by both how large it was, and how empty it appeared. Aside from some infrastructure near the entrance, the nearly 15 mile ride to the pin on Google Maps that indicated the location of the training site was a beautiful ride up and down rolling hills and through forested areas, punctuated with the occasional sign or dirt lane leading from the main road into the woods.
Twenty minutes and one deer sighting later, I had arrived. This section of the base had some infrastructure, and next to a building labelled “Motorcycle Training” was a very large paved square that seemed to serve no other purpose than for motorcycle training. There was a course laid out with orange traffic cones, but there wasn’t a soul to be seen.
Hunger and the setting sun prompted me to head back to town, and I did so, this time destined for a restaurant whose name had caught my attention – Safari African Restaurant. Unfortunately, the restaurant had no vegan options, and so, leaving the delicious aromas and my hopes behind, I ended up buying a few groceries at Walmart a few blocks away, and retreated to my hotel room for the rest of the night.
