Coop's Corner: Great River Road Rally (GR3), Madison BMW Club

Sunday, May 18, 2025

Great River Road Rally (GR3), Madison BMW Club - 2025/05/16-18

The question(s) came up a lot this weekend....how many, which was your first, was it.....? The harder I worked at coming up with an answer, the foggier my memory became. The answer(s) finally came down to, "I need to check the blog".

I've done it so that you don't have to.

And you're welcome.

It was 2012, I was on my trusty TranZalp VT500 Honda Ascot. Shown here in Touring form, its favorite.

Fellow Rallyites...note the location of my pitch and of that huge tree providing some lovely May shade (poor tree is no longer with us).

Where Rally HQ/Registration once was....

To round out the history lesson, I have NOT attended 13 GR3 rallies. There was a bad cold, our son's wedding and a wimpy rider afraid of an expected wet cold weekend. So, that makes 10 Soldiers Grove rallies attended.

That's the end of the history lesson, now on to the present.

The stalwart and dedicated Madison BMW Club celebrated their 50th Rally this year. I was surprised, impressed and finally very pleased that we all enjoyed the company of 270 registered participants.

I took my Route #3 students to work on Friday but left for SE Wisconsin once everyone was dropped off at school.

And yes, I DID sweep out the bus before leaving.....thoroughly enough.

Here's a representation of the 449 miles covered Friday (green), Saturday (red) and Sunday (blue).

Closeups....

Here we go....

Breakfast in Trempealeau.....

Arrival in Soldiers Grove, very close to my "noonish...." prediction. Jarrod and Eric already setup and comfortable.

All setup...

Walking over for Friday's provided meal....

Sorry Jim, we never got a chance for anything more than "hello"

Our 'settlement', eventually 8 of us with one visitor for the day on Saturday. Lucky for us all, one BMW managed to populate our small village. Not every brand was represented but we sure tried! A second Kawasaki showed up to give one brand that edge.

The day had been pleasantly warm and obtrusively windy, the evening kept the windy but moved to cool. The observant among you will note the change in uniforms. The fellowship circle didn't last long....the drizzle started, the wind was constant so most of us were into our tents, way early.

This is what the 5:30 am coffee walk looked like Saturday morning.

Curtis arrived to join us for the day....

A brisk though short morning ride to Readstown for breakfast.

A wonderful surprise...not only Curtis but the rest of his family as well! Once helmets come in small enough sizes I'm sure they'll be joining mom and dad on the gravel.

Thanks for the photo help guys!

First Janus I've seen in the flesh....

One last look early Sunday morning...

Almost home, the sun had finally returned....

Once again, many of us had a lot of fun, too few of us did a lot of work. Many thanks to all and congrats to the Madison BMW Club to have kept this wonderful event going for the past 50 years!

4 comments:

RichardMMay 20, 2025 at 6:02 PM
That looked like a nice event. Not too big and in a nice area.
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redlegsridesMay 24, 2025 at 12:56 AM
I too am experiencing more and more CRS (Can't Remember Shit) moments...if it wasn't for the blog I would have no idea!
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)