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But, even still, in small, persistent ways, Hollister seems to be happening in slow motion in Rappahannock —the blasts of motorcycles’ engine noise, the bursts of acceleration over short stretches of road, the hostile gear, wrecks, grisly deaths on the Thornton Gap “race track,” and the need for beefed up State Police enforcement and road checks, lowered speed limits, and No Parking signs where none existed before.
These visitors on two wheels surely don’tintend to terrorize anybody, but whatever their intentions, they have succeeded in off putting, if not thoroughly disgusting, many of Rappahannock’s residents.
The bikers read about Route 211 in nearly every motorcycle “weekend” touring guide, both on and off the web. The road is touted for its bucolic scenery, village life, sweet grassy aromas, and to finish it all off, a twisting, exhilarating roll up and down the Gap.
What could be better?
For one thing, going away could be, and not coming back until these two-wheeler afficionados have graduated to station wagons. But barring that, what would also be nice would be a genuine respect for what the people of Rappahannock value so highly— the serenity of the place, which includes the same pace that Hollister once enjoyed.
These visitors could take upon themselves to follow the laws and slip into harmony with Rappahannock, without having state troopers lining the twisting road up the Gap. They could obey the speed limits and appreciate that not everybody within sight and sound admires the throaty gusts from their tail pipes as much as they do.
Will this ever happen?
Probably not until pigs fly.
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