Turbo Motorcycle International Owner's Association Rally 2002

Dahlonega, Georgia, USA June 12-14th

Friday

After a delayed flight for me and a day's acclimatization Friday was time to meet everyone and start the serious business of 750 turbo spotting. A short ride was planned but swiftly abandoned when light rain started, which was a bit of a surprise as it had been 93 degrees F the day before. Introductions were made all round by Steve (Purple Passion), Bob Miller (pres of the TMIOA), Colin (TMIOA webmaster) all the way from Canada on his CX500 turbo, host John Marrs, Gary (GPzdrag), Brett (crashtech), Denis (turbosorme), Jim (Onelegg) and his brother Dan, Roger Twito and of course Mike Chestnut and his mum! Mike looked in good shape, and as the evening drew in and more and more turbos appeared he was soon zooming about dispensing advice and clearly enjoying himself. A big fella arrived with a troubled 750 turbo which Roger soon ripped apart under Mike's direction. John Altom also appeared and made repeated road tests in between tweaking his TPS and changing plugs in an effort to improve the low speed running of his bike. Also spotted were a mint and original-tyred 750 turbo with 1600 miles on the clock, which the new owner paid just $2500 for. The "Jersey Boys" also arrived, in vests and shorts, obviously not used to the southern heat! Dinner at Danny's nearby was quite acceptable, but efforts to persuade the waitress to add beer to the menu proved fruitless. Luckily the gas station next door had supplies, saving the pizza boy delivering to the motel who was in danger of being hijacked!

1) Mike Chestnut and Bob Miller get down to business  2) The entertaining Steve Smith!  3) John Altom with Jim (Onelegg) and brother Dan in the background.

Saturday

Sweet Georgia sunshine! After gassing up the 500 I returned to the motel to hear that local Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane (probably) had paid a visit looking for " a guy on a red and black bike " (well, duh...look around...). Apparently the Jersey boys had been wheelieing up the hill outside the motel, and the Sheriff made it clear that any such further behaviour would be rewarded by a night in the slammer. At Breakfast at Danny's (terrible coffee) we were joined by Red with his CX500 turbo, and his dog who rode on the tank! This was followed by a rider's meeting and a prayer for our safe return from the big fella who addressed "Daddy God". At least, that's what it sounded like...

I counted 16 750 turbos in the photo line up...see if you can spot any more!

The route started off with a tightly winding road into the mountains and past the Two Wheels Only campsite, which would be the site of our dinner later that evening. The pace started off slow but soon picked up as riders got the hang of the mountain roads, and for a little while even reached the point of being "quite fast enough, thankyou". Winding our way up the mountains provided spectacular views over the valley, and the group started to spread out. After about 40 miles we stopped to regroup and Steve offered me his turbo. I could hardly say no... ;)

Pressing on I was delighted to find Purple Passion easy to handle, and I was soon scraping my boots, albeit with a slight wiggle when it was over that far. Front forks were stiff for my weight but the rear was perfect. As the road rose and fell we passed waterfalls with tourists taking photos, rock faces and steep drops which I couldn't resist looking down. A long way down...Bill (leading) told us later that motorcyclists' remains were sometimes found by hikers years after going missing over the edge. When we got higher up it was actually quite cool, I had thought before the trip that I would be too hot in full leathers, but it soon warmed up again as we descended and reached a stretch of highway. Brett wound it on, then John dropped it down a gear or two and nailed it, so I dialled up full throttle in top and watched the speedo go past 160mph as they shut off. What's it like? It's fast. Not dragbike fast, but I wouldn't expect that, and I didn't blast it hard in the lower gears anyway, but a great streetbike. It goes, stops, and handles as good as it looks, not by changing every part of the bike for more modern parts (in which case you might as well bolt a turbo to a ZX9) , but by making the best of the bike's stock equipment. The "ksshhh" of the bypass valve was a bit of a novelty for me to play with, and the hold feature on the boost gauge was a nice touch. I think it reached 18psi on the highway.

Steve remembers: "Sat. weather was excellent and so were the roads! I'm not one to lean over real far in turns, I guess 'cause losing traction and crashing, especially on P.P., would be most devastating to me! I remember the look on your face, and your speechless acceptance when I decided to switch bikes with you and give you the "reins" of the purple missile. It was really weird  to ride behind (and sometimes next to) my own bike. Especially watching you lean it over so much in the turns (can you say "gave me the willys"!) Also that sly smile on your face when we had stopped at a stop sign, you put up the visor, and I said something like..."what the hell are you smiling at?!" I believe it was then you told me you had no idea
how fast you were going as the speedo was buried! Fun stuff, huh?! I remember the reaction I received from Bill on the CBX when he commented on how incredibly fast my bike was as I proceeded to pass him on a straight section of road and stayed into it approaching 150 m.p.h. indicated before letting off. Also I recall stopping at a gas station early on the ride Sat., for some needed gas, and a good looking (married!) woman was admiring my bike as I came
out of the store from getting candy. She said purple was her favorite color and showed me her purple metallic painted toenails. I proceeded to ask her to place her foot on my bended knee so I could look at them better. She did so and it was then her husband approached us to add into the conversation. Boy was I surprised to see him! No worries though. When we got to
T.W.O.(two wheels only) camp ground, it was there many were informed of Chris Morgan spilling his GPz turbo. Luckily it was still rideable and even though he was a bit banged up, he took it rather well. His bike that crashed, by the way, was serial # 0009! I also remember the rather loud verbal response by me when my "good buddy" Brett proceeded to place the electric, vibrating, muscle relaxer on my back without me knowing it was about to happen! I let out a yell that had everyone in the place looking at me, then laughing at me! Boy do I owe him one!"

Thanks Steve!

Lunchtime we stopped at B&D's restaurant in Franklin, North Carolina. After lunch (burger!) and 30 mins or so of chit-chat in beautiful warm sunshine we set off again, winding our way through more mountains but also some farming country. I was back on the 500, and the last 20 miles or so (out of a total of 220) got a bit uncomfortable, so much leg-stretching, standing up etc. ensued, even from the younger members of the party (me and Brett haha!) After returning to the motel we drove back to the Two Wheels Only campground, 7 miles as the crow flies but more like 20 miles of S-bends, and had dinner amongst piles of bike magazines and memorabilia. It was here that we learned that Chris had slipped on a gravel strewn bend and laid his 750 turbo down, gaining some bumps and bruises as well as losing an indicator and scuffing the fairing. Mike got a bit uncomfortable and needed a lay down after dinner so I got to ride back to the motel in the back of Gary's pickup with a very pretty (female) ZX12 owner. Result!

Sunday

 

A supposed early start turned into a bit of a late one, but that was ok - plenty of time for more chinwagging (that's chatting, Steve)! Some people had to pack up and leave in order to be back at work on Monday, but Steve was eager to find a straight bit of road to max out his bike on and to play with his new GPS toy. After a bit of the twisty stuff we stopped at a petrol station to wait for Mike and crew to arrive in the van. An hour later after a couple of searches of the area we set off again, as Mike hadn't arrived and there was no mobile phone reception in that area to call and find out where they were. We found a reasonable stretch of highway, but there was just enough traffic, bends and hills to prevent Steve from getting Purple fully wound up. Still it was good fun watching him nail it in 3rd and pull away from the group, jeans flapping in the wind! I think he reached 163mph anyway, and after returning to the motel we went into Dahlonega and hit the shops for an hour. A local couple suggested a restaurant that we could try, "Rick's", and a good very good evening was had by the eight remaining people in attendance, despite a ban on alcohol because it was Sunday, much to Mort's disdain. I was actually looking forward to a glass of wine myself, but this was more than made up for by Steve's very entertaining memories of his previous career! Oh boy, you just had to be there...hehe.

Monday

With the rally over it was time to say goodbye for this year, take some final photos, and a last look at the mountains on the way back to the airport at Atlanta for me.

Mort, Colin, Lorc, Alan, Gary and Steve	Alan and Mrs Alan with Purple Passion	Lorc and Steve - mates for life!	Mort and Steve - even closer than that!	Sweet Georgia Blown - I'll be back!

I'll be updating this page as pics and memories come in, so please check back soon. Thanks to all that have sent pics and emails. Thanks to Steve and Cindy, John Marrs, Bill, Bob, Colin, Gary and everyone else who made the rally such a success and made me feel so welcome.

Lorc.