The 2nd Annual Motorcycle Classics Ride ’Em, Don’t Hide ’Em Getaway is in the books. Fifty-three Motorcycle Classics readers joined us for a two-day ride, Aug. 4-6, 2017, in southern Pennsylvania’s Laurel Highlands, much of the ride running through the area’s little-known Amish country.
There wasn’t a four-lane to be seen and we barely touched any major two-lane highways as we meandered through the surrounding countryside, our Saturday route following 110 miles of narrow, seemingly forgotten secondary roads.
The morning portion of the ride took us deep into the area’s Amish country, the landscape punctuated by picture-perfect farms and the roads regularly occupied by horse-drawn buggies and their Amish occupants. Young Amish boys watched us roll by, extending exaggerated twists of the wrist in hopes of us doing the same for a little audible treat. Lunch was in the tiny burgh of Grantsville just over the Maryland border, followed by a group photo at Casselman River Bridge a few hundred yards away. Spanning 80 feet, the Casselman River Bridge was the largest stone arch bridge in the U.S. when it was built in 1813.
A broken clutch cable on Steve and Marsha Wright’s late ’70s Kawasaki KZ750 twin at the post-lunch gas stop threatened to end their ride until RetroTours’ Joel Samick, who was riding an identical KZ750 twin, pulled a spare from under his seat and had the cable swapped out in quick order. When Steve tried to pay for the cable Joel pushed his money away, saying simply, “You’d do the same for me, right?”
It was a perfect moment, followed by many more as we finished out the day’s ride, stopping along the way at the 3,213-foot summit of Mt. Davis, the highest point in Pennsylvania, before heading back out on more great twisty two-lanes as we worked our way back to Seven Springs in the afternoon.
Saturday night’s dinner was headlined by special guest Mark Mederski, former AMA Motorcycle Hall of Fame executive director and now special projects director at the National Motorcycle Museum in Anamosa, Iowa, who shared stories of his life in motorcycles and the incredible people he’s met during his career.
Sunday’s ride was another fine run, a 35-mile ramble through the Laurel Highlands, our route at one point running alongside a high ridge choked with giant electric windmills, a few miles later ping into a deep, emerald green forest.