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First Rebel Ride to Richmond

In just a few short weeks my Rebel has gone from 0 miles to well over 800, and though Honda recommends 600 miles until the first service it was hard to keep it much under 700 before I finally made it to Richmond for the checkup. I blame it on the nice weather and cute passengers.

So when I noticed I was creeping up on the big 600 I called the dealer, the Richmond Honda House, and asked about appointments. Unfortunately for me it doesn’t really work that way. It was explained to me that for the first service people usually drop off their bikes and pick them up the next day. Well, that wasn’t going to work for me as I live in Williamsburg nearly 60 miles away. Looking back I guess I could have had a friend come and pick me up, but I wouldn’t want to put that burden on them and I figured if the Honda House could accommodate me I might as well make a day of it. And what a day it was.

I missed the first alarm at 7:00 am but thankfully caught the second at 7:30. I tried not to rush as I geared up, checked the weather, checked the route, and sent an out-of-office email to coworkers. The weather was a bit on the cold side in the AM, but was supposed to make it up to 75° in the afternoon with a chance of rain in both Richmond and Williamsburg. The route I had never taken myself before. I usually drive the car up Interstate 64, but knowing the morning commute traffic on that interstate I wasn’t about to risk it on my little 250. I had my choice of route 60 or route 5. Route 5 is a little twistier and is only 2 lanes divided. Route 60 is pretty flat and straight with 4 lanes divided by a big median. For my first ride up to Richmond I decided to take 60, or Richmond Rd as it’s called in Williamsburg. Interestingly enough, the road changes names to Williamsburg Rd once you get into Richmond. The directions that MapQuest.com, MapBlast.com, and Google maps gave me were for I-64 only so I just took a quick glance at the map and decided to wing it. That’s what the red Honda wing is for right?

I took my half-shell and full face helmet. I had only ridden once before with the full face helmet and didn’t really like it but I knew I needed to get used to it sooner or later, and that it might rain so along it came as a backup. I’ve gotten used to keeping a spare helmet on the passenger seat tied down with a bungee net. It was about 60° when I was finally ready to leave at 8:00. I did the T-CLOCS check I learned in MSF, adjusted the suspension, and made sure my helmet, goggles, and gloves were tight, and off I went.

If I wasn’t awake before I sure was now. 50 miles an hour in early morning 60° weather wearing a half-shell has a way of getting the blood going. About 10 miles into the ride I got a call. I pulled into the parking lot of an antique shop in the middle of Toano to check my phone. Wess had called so I gave him a ring back. He wanted to let me know about the weather. I told him I would be fine, and thanked him for calling. At that point the cold wind against my face had sufficiently woken me up and I was ready for some comfort.

I looked back at my full face helmet thinking of the one time I rode with it, feeling like Darth Vader, almost (and I mean 15 feet from) getting hit by a call pulling out of a parking spot that I could barely see out of the limited peripheral vision. I exaggerate, I saw the car starting to pull out but I was just surprised at the difference in vision. I pulled the helmet on, tied on the half-shell and continued down route 60. It was much better. About 5 miles later I realized that I was alone. There were absolutely no cars to be seen ahead of me or behind me. This is strange I thought, I guess they all took the Interstate. Well, good riddance to them, I’ve got this whole highway to myself. It was like that for most of the ride with a few scattered cars when I pulled through towns.

Taking that old US route was such a great idea. The road was in excellent condition, and with such little traffic I could ride 55 without fear of monster SUVs trying to eat me. It was also like riding some sort of 2-wheeled time machine. I passed “Motor Lodges” which looked like they came out of Psycho or North by North-West. I passed old churches, libraries, fire stations, and general stores all clustered together around one set of traffic lights. I saw a gas station that didn’t take plastic at the pump, complete with grease monkey in jump suit ready to full’er-up. Even rusted Shell Gasoline and Marlboro Cigarette signs hung from the service station. The prices had changed but not much else. I passed Patsies Diner between Providence Forge and New Kent County and thought of the times I had ridden up there for lunch with Dad just a few years ago. I now understood what he liked so much about the place. “Maybe I’ll hit it on the way back” I thought, but ended up saving that for another trip.

Before long Route 60 had put me right on Main Street in “the bottom” of Richmond. I gazed at the ancient train station as I passed it by. I had been there on an Amtrak trip on a whim before; just a little run to Richmond and back to enjoy the tracks. It looked so much bigger this time. This station is absolutely beautiful, and easily rivals some cathedrals in stature. From there it was just a quick jaunt up the hill and into down town where I was surrounded by skyscrapers and red-light signals at every block. First, Second, Third, Brake, Second, Stop, First, ready to do it again. This was about to get old so the first chance I got I switched over to Monument Ave, my favorite road in Richmond. Its brick in some areas but goes asphalt once out of “the fan”. Every couple of intersections there is a monument in the middle, hence the name. The weather had gotten better and I was feeling much better about city riding. It was almost 9:30 and the service shop had already been open a half hour but I did not rush. I kept telling myself I would get there when I get there. Maybe next time I’ll hear the first alarm?

A few intersections and turns later I was at the Honda shop. I parked and dismounted giving my legs a good stretch and pulling off the helmet. I took a deep breathe as I continued to loosen my jacket. I was greeted by the service guy and after explaining my situation and the conversation I had with another technician earlier in the week I was squared away, I would have my bike that afternoon, hopefully before 3 if the weather report was right.

I sat on the curb for a while admiring a new Valkyrie Rune that had just been picked up from the service center. Man does that thing make the Rebel look little. I spent the next 5 hours hanging out in the shop checking out helmets and accessories. It soon became apparent that if I really want to get a sissy bar, highway pegs, and saddle bags my only choices are ordering custom parts online, or upgrading to a Shadow. I checked out the new candy orange Shadow 600 and Shadow Spirit 750 and they are both beautiful bikes. I think I like the 600 a little better as it sits a bit lower just like the Rebel, and at 5 Killobucks it’s not a bad deal. We’ll see next year.

When they were finally done with my Rebel I checked out and started my trek back home. While the full face worked out on the way up the weather had gotten better and I was ready for some wind in my face. Soon after getting on route 60 back to Williamsburg I passed by the Richmond International Airport where I stopped to get a few pictures of my Rebel with the SR-71 Blackbird on display at the airport museum.

All and all it was an awesome trip and I can’t wait to do it again. I’m posting this a few weeks since the trip due to laziness and other stuff. I’ve actually broken one thousand miles now and I’m itching to take another long ride. Maybe on a nice day I’ll hit up Bella Island for some hiking in Richmond.

Ride safe, Darren