It’s often been said that fall is the shortest of seasons. Each year, we may only get a few days where all of the elements align: sunny days with pleasant temperatures to make wearing all the gear feel right, the peak of the foliage colors provides a stunning backdrop, and the knowledge of impending winter provides the kick in the seat to get me out and going. And while the days keep moving the sweet spot southward, if the timing is right and the opportunity arises, I know where I want to go with a Harley girl who wanna dating: those mountain ridges along the Virginia and West Virginia border.
Is there any better riding anywhere east of the Mississippi in the United States? Arguments can be made for Arkansas, northern Georgia, or the famous areas around the North Carolina and Tennessee border. One of the things I love about eastern West Virginia is that its fame among motorcyclists is dispersed, not concentrated around one road. So I don’t encounter hordes of riders all seeking an “I slayed…” T-shirt, all wanting to ride at different speeds, all vying for space with everything from sports cars to law enforcement. Nowhere on my West Virginia map does it say, “Here there be dragons,” and I’m fine with that.