My Own Ramblings

2008-05-11T02:52:00.001-05:00

Day 16
May 11 - heading home

I woke up refreshed and as I packed the bike for the last time on this journey, it was apparent that I’d burned up oil somewhere along the way. I hadn’t been checking it because I was not too far over my oil change interval and the Strom hadn’t been known for burning oil before.

I topped it off with almost a half quart. Good thing Jamey met me up here, he’s the one who noticed it. He’s also the one who was able to get the bike up on the center stand while loaded, something I still struggle with.

Much better.

I ate breakfast - my decadent chocolate pie that I’d saved from dinner the night before.

Then Jamey went to check us out of the room and return the key. This was the only hotel I’d stayed in that had a real key instead of those plastic programmable cards. It felt good to hold a hotel key in my hand for some reason.

As we headed out, the plan was to head across to Oklahoma on the Talimena Scenic Drive, then head south across the Red River into Texas. Although he’d joined me for the last leg home, Jamey insisted he was just escorting me home and that I shouldn’t change anything about how I’d ride or handle stops along the way just for him. He’d be my shadow.

Well, my shadow didn’t plan for the weather and despite the bright shining sun it was chilly. I was doing ok with my jacket liner and rain pants, so I offered him my thermals so he could add a layer.

I stopped at the border

And he stopped up ahead at a turn-off, so I did what any good friend would - took pictures of him half dressed on the side of the road. : P

The elevation on the Talimena isn’t as bothersome as other areas, since there are more rolling hills than cliffs and jagged rocks-of-death to contend with.

We made it to town just in time to fill up on gas and grab some (real) breakfast.

I really couldn’t have asked for better weather to carry me home.

That - over there - is that what I think it is?

Yup, I was crossing over the Red River and had arrived in Texas!

Spank was glad to see some familiar signs too

And Jamey was just glad we’d finally pulled over!

We made our way down to Lone Star for lunch (kinda fitting, don’t ya think?)

It was Mother’s Day, but we’d missed the hectic lunch rush. It also meant we’d missed out on almost everything they were serving on the buffet, so we ordered up a few plates and talked about the rest of the route while we waited for our food.

Chopped steak with onions and hush puppies, although I’m told these aren’t “real” hush puppies and I’d have to try them again sometime.

We were, um, hungry…

Once done and back outside, Jamey just BEGGED me to ride my bike, so I agreed.
(Ok, so I just really wanted to ride the FZ and I convinced him by BS’ing something about how varying pressure points would help make his long ride more comfortable)

I took the reins of ye ‘ol FZ1...

As we mosey’d on down the road I spotted a sign for a town I wanted to check out. It made a good stop to trade bikes back, as I wanted to be with mine in the picture(s).

Beckville, Texas.

Most of my family calls me Bec, so it made me smile to know they’d get a kick out of my find.

The first sign that had the “H” word on it since I‘d left two weeks prior:

Longer shadows

Strangers falling in line behind bikes they see going their way

The setting sun. I would lose the race against daylight for the last time.

Downtown Houston. Blurry, but visible. No time for stopping, I could take pictures of this any day.

Minute Maid Park, aka “Orange Juice Field” - home of the Astros.

And the last traffic light before my house. Yup, I got caught at a red.

“Arriving at home” appeared on the GPS as I pulled under the carport. It was bittersweet - I wanted to be out on the road still. Making my way across states, traversing miles and miles of scenery, pavement, and memories - but at the same time, I longed to be home. In my comfort zone. Sleeping in my own bed.

I turned the key and returned to reality. It was over.

Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas
468 miles and one great shadow of a riding partner

2008-05-10T20:22:00.002-05:00

Day 15
May 10th

I woke up to a dismal sky filled with fog and mist, but was surrounded by like-minded adventurers. Since I had a level, safe area to work I popped the side cases off and got the bike up on the center stand so I could adjust the chain again. I busted a knuckle open loosening up a bolt, but otherwise it was uneventful. Passers by stopped to chat and Traci attempted a dead-lift with one of my ammo cases. "Yup, they're heavy." LOL

I walked down the hill towards the restaurant/bakery for breakfast and met up with a wide-eyed version of the group I'd mingled with the night before.

I think this cinnamon roll fed six of us.

I ordered my eggs scrambled, but it took almost an hour for a plate to appear before me so I just ate what was on it.

On my way back to the bike to gear up, I caught this man staring at the tail end of a paper-plated KLR. He says he just got it, and his father got the matching one parked beside it. He was still in the "admiring my new bike" phase and I don't blame him one bit.

After a quick chit chat over a map, Scoon, Ian, and I had a plan for me to follow some twisty bits into Arkansas to meet up with Jamey (jar675) in Mena for dinner and the final leg of the trip home the next day. Most everyone rolled out of camp before I did, so the goodbyes were minimal.

I followed Hwy 5 down into a state I'd ridden in before - Arkansas. Without much of a shoulder to park on, I tip-toed the bike in a narrow ditch to get the state sign from the saddle.

I didn't feel completely awake, mostly because the sun had no intention of coming out to greet me. The weather report wasn't looking good at all - threats of afternoon tornadoes in the northern half of the state meant I had to keep heading south to avoid them.

A scenic vista. Well, not-so-scenic if the fog doesn't let ya see it.

But it turned out to be a worthwhile stop. As I backed away from the bike for a picture I noticed Spank had come loose and was dangling from a bungee cord. YIKES! After all this poor monkey has been through, having him jump ship on the road would almost certainly cause my friends to disown me!

Snuggled up tight, Spank and I continued on our way - until the fog rolled in, the rain poured down, and the wind picked up. I ducked under the awning of a closed shop to clear my visor and see if it would calm down at all.

The wind would gust and swirl, but it wasn't constant and I managed to creep my way south at 50-75% of the posted speed limit. I was just as afraid of someone speeding through the thick fog and slamming into the back of me as I was crashing into something ahead because of poor visibility and loss of traction. Anytime I heard an approaching vehicle or saw the glimmer of lights in my mirrors I'd flash my brake lights until I was certain they saw me. I pulled to the right and waved most of the traffic around me, but one car hovered a few lengths back and "kept watch" over me for a while.

This is NOT my idea of fun.

I was so nervous, my arms and shoulders couldn't relax the death grip I had on the handlebars. I pulled off for a potty break as soon as I saw the shoulder open up enough to park safely.

To top off a perfectly terrible mood, my GPS decided it didn't want to abort the route we'd programmed and just take me straight to Mena.

Ok, I'll do it myself then. There are people who tell me I should try to rely less on the GPS and just ride where I feel like going. I turned off the routing feature and continued south on 7 through Jasper, opting to head west then south towards Clarksville on 21 instead of 16 or 123, the "Pig Trail". Even on a bright, sunny day I would have been terrified on the mountainous curves that run through this region - today was testing the limits of my patience.

I was glad to be riding solo so that my speed (or lack of) wasn't getting in the way and I could stop as often as I wanted to take a break and try to relax. On the flipside, I didn't have anyone to follow through the turns or reassure me that we'd make it down the mountain in one piece. Nobody to sing me the "chicken dance" in my helmet this time around.

Is the glass half empty or half full?

I don't know, but I hadn't realized how empty my belly was until I passed through Ozone and caught a whiff of something cooking. I turned around to see what the speck I'd seen on the side of the road was and decided I'd just found lunch.

The Ozone Burger Barn.

I ordered up a bacon patty melt and some fries, then sat down at the picnic table with a map and my GPS. It was still giving me fits, so I started deleting things to see if I'd just over-filled it. Sure enough, it started to play nice again. Whew!

Yummmmmm! The burger barn gets four out of five stars - they lost one because the guy at the window put my food on the ledge when it was done without even alerting me.

While I was there, a hi-viz-yellow-wearing VStrom rider went by with a wave. I was certain it was one of the SLAP boys that had wandered out this way, but when the bike came back I met Moriyama out on his own cross-country adventure.

We sat and chatted for a bit while I finished my fries and he chomped away at his burger. I used my back-up maps to formulate a plan, and decided that the quickest route south to the interstate would help me get down out of the elevation and, hopefully, the fog.

Not five minutes down the road from lunch, small bits began to hit my head and hands. I couldn't believe that it could be hail, so I slowed and held my hand out to catch some - and sure enough, they were the size of green peas. They came down harder, and felt like golf balls smacking helmet. I've never ridden in hail, so I took the already slow pace down another notch to avoid sliding on the ice marbles laid out before me.

The camera was the last thing on my mind. I had actually started to worry that I'd pushed myself too far and thought I might need to find somewhere to pull off and call it a day - but I'd shipped my camping gear home and needed a hotel.

Slowly but surely, I inched my way down the mountain and onto the highway. I stopped in Clarkesville for gas and to charge my GPS which was now low on battery power. I can't charge it while its in the "powered but non functioning RAM cradle" so I spent a little extra time looking over a map and making a few phone calls. As I began to gear back up, the clerk came out and asked if I was Rebecca. "Uh, yeah... why?"

I'd dropped my wallet in the restroom and she found it when she went in there to mop the floor. Wow, that could have been a crisis!

I motored on south on 71 towards Mena, and stopped in Boles to check in with Jamey and find out what hotel I'd be looking for. I had a text messsage, "Call me ASAP".

The first thing out of my mouth was "are you ok?" He was riding up from Houston and I was worried he'd hit bad weather or something had gone wrong.

"I'm fine. You need to get here fast. First hotel you see when you get to town, Sun Country Inn. It's on the left."

I can't rush. I knew he was anxious to see me but changing my pace isn't going to... "The weather is headed right for you, and it's bad. Just get here."

"I'm on my way." The phone was tucked away, and for the first time since my mad rush through New Jersey I was in a hurry. Within a few minutes, the sky got dark and the wind picked back up and was gusting, pushing me over the yellow line a few times. There were no other cars out here with me, so I stopped fighting it and let the bike wander a bit.

Then the rain started, and it went from droplets to buckets within seconds. I could feel the temperature change a few degrees, but my liners were in and other than my hands I was staying dry. I had to slow my pace. Hurried riding in conditions like this can only lead to mistakes.

I made it to Mena and quickly found the hotel. Jamey's bike was up on the sidewalk and mine joined it after a quick hop up the curb. As my helmet came off, I got a hug that made the last day of misery worth it.

Most of the local TV channels were being interrupted by severe weather alerts. As much as I'd ridden through, it seems I may have missed the worst of it. Tornadoes has touched down in a few places, and damage reports were still rolling in.

I rid myself of all the layers of clothes and took a long, hot shower. Jamey kept his eye on the weather and by the time I was done and dressed, it was drying up. We decided to head into town for dinner 2-up on my Strom.

The view from the back of my bike:

We circled the town looking for something good, but it was almost deserted. There was a Mexican restaurant and a Dairy Queen, neither of which got our vote. We crossed the railroad tracks and eventually found the Chopping Block Steak House Restaurant. Splurge time!

Sorry, I forgot to take a picture before I ravaged my pepperjack chicken.

Jamey and his cheesecake:

I ordered a slice of silk pie for dessert, but had it boxed to go when I realized I was overstuffed and couldn't properly enjoy it after the meal. As Jamey rolled the bike backwards and I got ready to hop on, the sign caught my attention...

"Welcome swingers and open moms"

Uh, what?!?!?

Either they'd run out of sign letters and abbreviated poorly or someone was messing with the sign. Here's the other side:

I think I talked his ear off with stories of my trip, but Jamey was happy to hear them first-hand and assured me tomorrow's weather wouldn't be nearly as exciting.

Missouri, Oklahoma, Arkansas
313 ugly miles

2008-05-09T23:49:00.000-05:00

Day 14
May 9th

I woke up and prepared for another wet day in the saddle. The jacket liner had been in since day 2, I think. A quick email check and a glance at my ride reports revealed this:

Flashstromer: "Get yer ass to southern MO for SLAP."

Good 'ol Gordon. I met his sorry Strom-ridin self in Big Bend during Ride the Rio a few months back, so he and I exchanged quick PMs and a phone call to aim me in the direction of the (now annual) ADV rally in Dawt Mill, MO.

I prepped the bike by wiping the lights, blinkers, and mirrors to remove the grime from the previous day. I gave the chain a good dousing of lubricant. It's filthy, but a quick inspection showed no kinks and the tension was still within acceptable limits.

Someone had asked how I was carrying the SPoT tracker to maintain a view of the sky. It's stored in the small zippered pocket in the bag on my pannier. The bag isn't waterproof, but the SPoT is water resistant and within easy reach for OK check-ins at stops but out of sight when I'm away from the bike.

I headed over another bridged state line, but stopped for a pic from the other side. This was the Ohio river, which I'd crossed yesterday as well.

And the interstate. Again. They're a means to an end. At least out here, there's greenery and elevation to keep from getting too bored.

Crossing Illinois, I ignored the GPS's desire to cut south and instead headed farther west on I64 towards Evansville. My stomach was growling and telling me to pull over, but a billboard for an Amish buffet had caught my eye. I'd hold out another 25 miles for it instead of defaulting to fast food again.

The food was delicious. It had a very family-friendly feel to it, despite being a rather large store and commercial restaurant.

With my full belly loaded back on the bike, I headed out and saw this:

Odd as I am, I took this opportunity to lick the inside of my helmet because it was funny.

Only after doing so did I recall the sneezing fit I'd had inside my helmet the day before.

EEEEW!

Another photogenic bridge:

With a state line on it:

The bigger/beautiful sign was out of reach within construction on the other side of the crossing. It seems most of the midwest is being repaved this month. Yay.

There was more sun calling to me up ahead:

And clouds and wet weather hanging out to the rear:

As I left the interstate, the twisty roads of Missouri showed themselves.

In addition to being wonderful for riding, they are miserable for finding a safe spot to pull over to snap a picture or take a "break" without parking in the roadway.

I found a driveway that, while gravel, was suitable for a quick park-n-pic.

It was another race against the sun. I needed to make it to Dawt Mill before dark.

I got there just as the overpacked beer-laden delivery car was arriving, so as any good ADVer does, I stood by watching and snapping pictures as the round keg was placed in the square box.

Now that there's some ADV engineering for ya!

Gordon scrounged a spare bed for me to sleep in (thanks a million Ian & Jasmine!) and then introduced me to the natives.

Well, to one Native and a bunch of other guys n gals.

Man get wood.

Man make fire.

Fire pretty and warm.

Drunk coyote lays on box

Not a good place to sleep. Beer is in box. Drunk coyote is moved.

Tinks smiles pretty.

Before I secured a bed, she was kind enough to offer up space in her tent with her and her hubby. She's awesome and I'm glad I finally got to meet her, Bonnie, KCD, and all the other fine folk out there at SLAP. Any long trip that can incorporate a rally on-the-fly is a good one.

Kentucky, Illinois, Indiana, Missouri
487 miles

2008-05-08T12:13:00.001-05:00

Ok, so where was I…

Oh yeah. Day 13
May 8th

Although Salome insisted, I declined to sleep in and spend the day being lazy around the house and avoiding the rain. She wanted to cook me breakfast, but I didn’t want her to go to too much trouble. I’d use the light hunger as incentive to get a hundred miles or so covered before stopping.

“Where ya goin? Can I come too?”

The Strom packed and warming up, I said goodbye to Dennis’ Harley

Salome, cute as a button (and not looking anything like the grandmother she is) in her high heels and works clothes helped me push the bike backwards out of the garage and onto the gravel. She handed me a pack of Pop Tarts and we said our goodbyes.

The drizzle wasn’t bad, but the roads were slick and my visor was fogging horribly. I snuck into this parking lot, the first place I could find with an awning to duck under to properly dry the inside of the visor and get it on my head without rain getting back in.

Sunshine?

Must be an old sign.

Reese’s 1830 Mercantile at the corner of PA 18 and PA 30. If you blink, you could miss it.

As I was clearing the visor and adding more soap in an effort to keep it clear, a gentleman came out to his car and asked where I was headed. The people up here in New England always seem amazed that I’m this far from home. He suggested I go inside for a breakfast sandwich and some coffee, and it sounded like a good idea. The banner near the door boasted free Wifi, so I’d try to get some pictures uploaded.

I have to say - this was THE best egg sandwich I’ve ever had. It wasn’t fried, either. Sliced hard boiled eggs, ham, cheese (maybe provolone?) and a pesto-type spread on crunchy, toasted bread. If you are ever near there, you simply MUST try one!

After the relaxing break, I headed out towards the thin sliver of West Virginia that must be crossed to get from PA to OH.

Rain and construction. I hate the combination.

I decided to pull into a rest area to add my thermals to the multiple layers of clothes I had on.

The Eisenhower Highway. Interesting.

License plate - check
Monkey - check
Helmet - dropped off the seat and rolled halfway through the parking lot and almost got run over by a minivan before I could get to it. Ugh.

I made up more time by taking I70 towards Columbus, where a friend from Houston had moved a few years ago. Attempts to reach her on her cell phone to meet for lunch failed, so I dined alone at the McDonalds.

Here I met Helen (who refused a picture), a state employee working on the road system who rides a Rebel 250. She asked about my luggage, my Camelbak, my GPS - she was absorbing all the details about how to make herself more of a distance rider. She also shared with me the fact that up ahead was a section of road called “suicide alley” - the tar snakes had been laid out of spec, and until they can be repaired motorcyclists should avoid the interchange between Interstates 70 & 71. Duly noted, I detoured south around loop 270.

A few miles shy of Cincinnati:

Lucky 13? Well, that remains to be seen. I'm writing this while sitting on the floor in the lobby of an Ohio interstate rest area. Bathrooms to the left and right of me, a map on the wall with a pin indicating "you are here" and people coming and going; most looking at me like I'm a deranged idiot for being on a motorcycle.

Well, at the moment I'm NOT on a motorcycle. Like I said, I'm sitting on the floor. I found an outlet for the laptop so it can charge while I type just in case I get caught somewhere down the road without power.

And the reason I'm here on the floor typing instead of out there riding away the miles? The weather. I'm 20 or so miles northeast of Cincinnati and a line of storms is moving through the region. I can ride in the rain and I can ride in the cold. I can even ride in the cold rain. What I can't ride in (or rather WON'T ride in for the sake of my own well being) is the downpour that creates almost zero visibility. The rain from above, the road spray from below, fog rolling over each bridge I cross, trucks passing me at full speed, water running down the inside of my visor despite NOT lifting it for any reason, and of course the fogging in the visor that won't quit even when I hold my breath.

I called a friend and he says the worst is still to come. I asked if I had enough time ahead of the squall line to make it to a hotel, and it was recommended that I just stay put for an hour or so. I can't pick up a WiFi signal here (I wish I had one of those USB internet do-dads), so I'll have to trust him. He says after that moves through I'll be safe to resume my travels.

After the rain settled down, I headed back out and made my way into Indiana.

The dark clouds remained behind me the rest of the day.

The mighty Ohio River.

I decided to ignore the GPS and follow the water once more. I was aiming for Louisville, KY for the night but I had a few hours of daylight left. I followed SR156, and signage indicated this was a “scenic byway”.

Rising Sun. There’s a big casino here, but there wasn’t time for gambling on anything but weather and roads.

A few sections of roadway were visibly damaged in what appeared to be landslides. I’m not sure how often the river gets out of its banks, but with the pavement this close, it takes its toll.

Switzerland County courthouse. I guess there was a large Swiss population that settled here.

In Switzerland, I found this sign for SR56, which appeared to parallel SR56 up in the adjacent hills. I wasn’t about to try it, but some of you that are near there would probably enjoy it.

Chasing the sun again, probably squinting age lines into my forehead for an hour or more.

But worth it.

I finally crossed over the river and into Kentucky.

I made it back to the highway as it got dark. I prefer to be on major roadways after the sun sets.

I got a room east of the city and settled in with a pizza to work on the ride report.

But I, uh, fell asleep with the computer on my lap and gave up.

446 miles
Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky

2008-05-07T08:09:00.000-05:00

Day 12
May 7th
My Birthday

The whole reason this ride was planned for early Spring during such tumultuous weather was because of today. I wanted to be on the road on my birthday just like I was last year and how I hope to be in future years. I like traditions. I like looking forward to things. Regularity

Well, the trip itself has been anything but "regular". As Mollie said, if everything were going perfectly this would be a vacation, not an adventure. There have been moments that I wished this was a vacation though, sitting on a beach with an icy fruit drink in my hand. Most of the time that thought is the farthest from my mind. An adventure it shall be.

I woke up to a few phone calls and text messages reminding me that I'd grown a year older (seemingly) overnight. Why should we feel like we're a whole year older on this ONE day when its been creeping towards us all year?

The bike had been parked right outside my hotel patio door throughout the night and was easy to pack up.

The bugs that had smashed themselves against my visor had also encrusted most of the front of my bike. I took soapy water and a rag to the lights and blinkers to aid visibility.

Having typed up a day or two of ride reports but not uploading them due to lack of WiFi at the Motel 6, I decided to stop for a liquid breakfast to get that done.

After two iced caramel macciatos (sp?) I was ready to roll.

Westbound

I found myself following water again. You can see it in this picture off to the right of the road.

I've found peace with water. It doesn't like to run along mountain ridges, so it tends to allow for twisty roads at lower elevation. It's a safe bet.

Not sure what's up with this FEMA area.

Miles and miles of construction slowing me down.

The state line was tangled up in this mess, and with state police sporadically placed to watch the flow of traffic, I didn't risk weaving through to the other side of the barrier for a picture. I ventured off the highway to escape the smell of fresh laid asphalt.

About an hour into the ride, my MP3 player decided to quit. It signaled low battery and turned itself off, but I was sure I'd charged it. I took it as a sign that I should be thinking more than singing today, so I left the earphones in to block the wind noise and motored on. I caught myself repeating some of my riding music over and over, but I got a good hour or two of thinking done as well.

No, you don't get THOSE details. As much as I share on this ride, there are things that nly I will know once it's over.

In the next town, I pulled over and swapped out to my "backup" MP3 player. It's shown it's age and has no LCD glass, but it plays music and I'm a creature of habit.

Hills and valleys

Expansive interstates

With the late start, I'd almost forgotten to eat lunch. It was already well into the afternoon when I pulled off for gas and found Aungst's Family Restaurant.

I've always found that restaurants with "family" in the name are worth stopping for, and this one was no exception.

I splurged on a loaded bacon cheeseburger and fries.

When the waitress cleared my plate (yes, it was empty except for the pickles) and asked if I wanted dessert I instinctively said no. I did a double-take though and remembered that it was MY day, so I asked what my choices were.

If this place were closer to Texas, I'd say we need to have a pie run here!

A slice of peanut butter pie and a hot up of coffee were the perfect cap to a great meal.

Back on the road, the skies grew darker as I made my way across PA.

As the drizzles began, I stowed the camera and started to make a plan for the night. If I could make it to Columbus, OH I had a friend I could stay with. The backup plan was a colleague of my mother's that lived outside Pittsburgh.

The rest areas along the interstates are much cleaner than I remember from my childhood. I stopped at this one to let some of that coffee out and to put the liner back in my jacket.

I was making good time on the highway when I realized I was nearing 200 miles on the current tank of gas. I'd been pretty good about refueling well before I needed to, so when the flashing beacon of stupidity blared at me for 15 miles I actually started to worry.

Thing is, I worried less about what I'd do if I ran out and more about how I'd never live it down with the Monday night crew... go figure...

Turns out I still had a half gallon or so to spare.

I made the decision to head towards Darlington, PA where Salome (pronounced Sol-oh-may) would gladly accept me into her home for the evening. She rides a Harley with her husband and has been following my journey on my blog.

She warned me that they lived "in the boonies" and offered to come meet me in town and lead me back to the house, but the GPS said it knew how to get me there so I declined the offer and wound my way up the dark, wet hills and right into their driveway. As I rolled to a stop and put me feet down on the gravel, the garage door magically opened before my eyes and I nestled the soaking Strom in for the night.

Cheyenne said I could share her house as long as I pet her for a while.

After her husband Dennis went to sleep, Salome and I stayed up for a while drinking coffee and talking before finally calling it a night. She offered to let me sleep in and leave when I felt like it or even stay another day to stay warm and dry, but I regretfully had to decline so I could (again) try to make up the miles getting back home.

Oh, how I long for the day I can hit the road and not have to "be" anywhere.

New York, Pennsylvania
363 miles

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2008-05-06T15:15:00.000-05:00

Day 11
May 6th

Just another day, but this one started late. I woke up at the not-so-early hour of 9:30, but I stayed in bed listening to the sound of the birds chirping in the mountain air and the dog chasing the cat through the hallway. Keith's house is the perfect mountain retreat, and his offer to "stay a few days, the road can wait" was all too tempting.

I caught up on some postings from the weekend and sorted out my pictures, then packed up the bike once again. I said goodbye to Abby with a game of catch in the yard, then thanked Keith for his hospitality. I tried to convince him to come down to Houston sometime, but I don't think he was going for it.

"Free pool tonight at the bar within walking distance!"

He couldn't convince me to stay, but I can't blame him for trying. I was very tempted.

Down the road I go...

Unfortunately he had some work to do and couldn't break away for lunch, but he had recommended the Vermont Country Deli just a few miles through town.

Brattleboro, Vermont. A quaint little town that, according to Keith, has everything you'd want without the sprawl of an urban city.

I had intended to get breakfast (despite it being well past noon) but the baked three cheese macaroni caught my eye. I got a half pound with a fresh baked roll and some coffee.

Hwy 9 was also highly recommended as a scenic alternative to the interstate system.

I concur!

100-mile lookout. The day was clear enough to see what this great Earth had to offer.

Slowing down through each town that appeared, this caught my eye.

MOOOOOSE!

And this had me thinking of my sister. (Hey Nicole, what do you have planned for June 7th?)

Welcome (back) to New York! This time I was entering on land instead of by bridge/tunnel as I had down in the city.

Spank agrees, this is a HUGE state that not may people realize stretches as far as it does. We'd be spending the rest of the day just getting across it.

And cross it we did. With the sun shining, it was almost warm with my jacket liner in. I was able to ride with mesh pants without even a hint of a chill.

Albany. New York's state capital. Like most states, the capital is not the primary city but houses the gub-ment entities and has its fair share of towering office buildings.

I was on the New York Thruway, but I didn't want to be - so I wandered off. Another $1.20 toll (New England sure gets ya on toll roads and crossings) and I was free and wandering the Catskill region. Instead of following a set route, I turned off the GPS navigation setting and opted instead to follow the lines that looked twisty and went in a general southwesterly direction.

Game Farm Road. It was shaded by the tree canopy and just what I was looking forward to.

Until this.

So I backtracked and found some other squiggly lines, but this time I scooted the screen over a bit to make sure they went all the way through.

Glamorous, ain't I? LOL

Chasing the sun. I have a feeling I'll be doing this just about every afternoon until I get home.

I made my way through Woodstock and wanted a picture of something cute and "hippy" with my bike, but it wasn't like I'd expected. It's turned into yuppy art studios and little sidewalk cafes. I'm sure everything is overpriced and the hippys of yester-year are baby boomers trying to squeeze every penny out of their 401k plans.

I decided Binghampton was as good a stopping point as any for the night, so I pointed the GPS to it and kept following the squiggles. I found Hwy 28, which has a 40+ mile stretch from Delhi to Deposit that I would LOVE to ride over and over again!

The road twists and turns over water and between mountains as it makes its way through a valley. Curves are posted between 35 and 55 mph, and although the road surface leaves much to be desired, I found my groove and started to (finally) scrub off some of the rubber on the sides of my tires. It was invigorating! If it hadn't been so late in the day, I probably would have turned around and done the section again. The elevation was around me - but it went up, not down. The curves weren't tight enough to make me nervous, and there was very little traffic to deal with.

I was in heaven.

After Deposit, I made my way via Hwy 17 into the sleepy college town of Binghampton. I hadn't expected to be in this area, so I had to stop at a gas station to load the GPS basemap. It's one of the few downsides to the Quest I have, but since I road trip with a computer it's not much of a problem, just an inconvenience.

The bugs made sure I'd need to pull over to change out my visor anyway.

Vermont, New York
286 wonderfully lazy miles

2008-05-05T10:22:00.000-05:00

Day 10
May 5th

Leaving my family is always difficult, but this time I wasn't being driven back to the airport for a quick flight home. Home would be almost a week away - hopefully - and the journey would have a few milestones to write home about.

Gas prices on Long Island are the highest I've seen the entire trip. Is it something with NY taxes, or just greedy station owners that are trying to squeeze every penny out of the seemingly well-to-do suburban dwellers?

I hopped on the Long Island Expressway and took the HOV lane until it ended, It didn't get me past traffic, but it kept a wider cushion between me and the crazy cagers.

After leaving I495 on the east end, the landscape morphed into countryside - wineries and asparagus farms abound. I passed Pindar, a local wine producer that I know my sister has always liked, but there was no way I'd be able to carry a bottle the rest of the way without breaking or mutilating it.

Land gave way to water, and soon it was on both sides of the rooadway as I headed all the way out to Orient Point.

I arrived at the Cross Sound Ferry in time to buy my ticket, take a few pictures, then board for the hour plus ride up to New London, CT.

Once parked, we were not permitted back down to the parking deck. I later thought that I should have brought the SPoT tracker upstairs with me to have the "blips" continue across the water. Oh well, next time.

It was a beautiful day for a boat ride. The water was mostly calm, the birds were hovering overhead, and the sun warmed everything it touched.

I grabbed an egg sandwich and some apple juice from the on-board cafeteria, then settled wandered the ferry decks looking for interesting things to take pictures of.

New London, CT

Spank says he's got a cough now. I shouldn't have left him down there with all the cars and fumes.

I wasn't able to get a picture of any "Welcome to Connecticut" signs because we crossed over the state line somewhere in the water. I did notice that CT smelled like cedar. Maybe that's just my imagination.

Before too long I was crossing into Rhode Island.

The "Ocean State" - ok, now I gotta pee.

The people in Rhode Island are rude, or at least the few that I met were. I stopped at a gas station to fill up and use the ladies room - but was told there wasn't one available to the public. Even for paying customers? "No restroom" was his repeated response.

Ok, so I went up the road to the next one and there was a sign on the door that there were no facilities. I don't see how the cashier puts up with that...

The third station didn't have a sign on the door and I spotted the powder room in the back. The door was open so I snuck in despite the "Employees Only" sign. Hey, it's not like I had to go through a stock room to get to it, but I reaaaaally had to go! I came back out, refreshed s ever, and proceeded to buy $5 worth of overpriced drinks and snacks as a sign of my appreciation. As I got to the counter, the woman behind it looked up at me, wwalked around the counter to the bathroom, and closed and locked the door from the outside. She came back up front and rung me up, told me to have a nice day (all the while giving me "the look") and I left.

Hey lady, would you rather I just drop trou behind your store?

Onward I go, past Purgatory

Through Massachussets, which I didn't see a sign for, but it smelled like pine trees. Or maybe Pinesol. Is it state-wide spring cleaning day?

Into New Hampshire I go.

Chugging along, I kept my GPS zoomed in so I would know when the crossing into Maine was coming up. I wanted to be ready! A I approached, I realized this would be another state border created by water. The bridge neared.

Did you see that? I bet you didn't. It said State Line - Maine - Vacationland.

Here's a close-up:

I was disappointed. I'd come all this way to get the sign and THAT was it?

I was (slightly) relieved when I got to the end of the bridge and found this, a larger sign welcoming me to the far northeast state. But there was also a small sign next to it that prevent a better picture.

Living in New York for most of my formative years, I'd traveled repeatedly to Vermont and New Hampshire for family vacations, skiing, hiking, and general "get away from the city" vacations, but I'd never stepped foot in Maine until now. As minor an occurrence it is for most, it was a big deal for me. I was smiling from ear to ear, the sense of accomplishment was almost overwhelming. I'd done it. And the naysayers (you know who you are) can all kiss my big, tired, sore behind.

I found a gas station with decent food and beverage offerings to grab some dinner and make a plan for the night. My sister and I have a friend from college that lives somewhere in Vermont, so I called her to get his address and phone number. I left him a message and headed his way.

I wasn't able to reach him but left a message with my ETA around dark:thirty. As I rode through southern New Hampshire, the setting sun was directly in my face and I put my sunglasses on under an already tinted visor.

Both are polarized. Now I couldn't see the GPS screen. DOH!

My shadow grew longer as it followed me west

I stayed on Hwy 4 and Hwy 9, which were fun. I spotted a Moose crossing sign but didn't get the camera out in time - but moose this far south? Really?

I found a small bridge traversing the creek/river I'd been following

And had to be VERY careful riding on and parking in the thick layer of sand that had accumulated on the roadway over the winter.

It sure is beautiful up here

Vermont! I'd crossed over on another bridge, then caught the sign on the other side.

I rode up the unpaved street and into his driveway, but Keith wasn't answering the phone or the door. I called my sister, the coordinator, to see if I was at the right house. Just as she reached for her cell phone to check his number two cars pulled into the driveway. Keith! ":long time no see!"

It had been years, literally. We determined the last time I saw him was at my sister's wedding back in 2001. Since then he'd moved up here to a small town just outside Brattleboro, VT and was working from home. Ah, the life.

I was afraid my last-minute overnight request might have been interfering with his plans, but he and his friend Bryan assured me they were just planning on hanging out for the night and that I was a welcome addition.

I guess they needed someone to beat at darts.

I'm glad I could fill that void.

Our old friend George showed up and we talked for hours about the past - good times, bad times, strange times. We eventually made our way out back and built a fire in the pit.

And as every proper Vermont homeowner should, Keith has a hot tub and coaxed us in. I made do with some Under Armour shorts and a shirt and relaxed away the miles. I must have been in there over an hour, my hands looked like prunes!

New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Maine
406 miles
One HUGE milestone, and the turning point towards home again

2008-05-04T10:04:00.000-05:00

Day 9
May 4th

A slow and sluggish start to the day-after-ladies-night-out.

But nothing some bagels and coffee can't cure!

Kat and my brother Heath brought Emma back over to hang out at Nana's house.

And Noah went for a ride on Poppy's tractor

But wasn't able to get the key away from Poppy so he could drive by himself

Heath gives Ethan a boost

And then Nicole tries to keep up with the conversation

She wasn't behaving so we put her in time out inside the pen

And she couldn't figure out how to escape!

Her boyfriend Matt eventually let her out to end the suffering

"Look! Poppy's making chicken!"

"What? I can't hear you. I have lawnmower ears on."

Emma and Kat enjoying the shade

While Nicole enjoys the sun

And the rest of the family eats. We're professionals. Don't try this at home.

"They say lunch is done but I'm still hungry"

Country bumpkin

Noah learns to ride his bike, which he's been talking about since I got to the house with my motorcycle.

"Race Ya!"

An early birthday cake

Noah helps me blow out the candles

And Emma said goodnight to Spank before going home

2008-05-03T09:38:00.000-05:00

Day 8
May 3rd

When you leave a camera laying around, it's an open invite for a three year old to start taking pictures.

It's time for Aunt Becca to start packing up her things. I'll be riding from NJ out to Long Island, NY to see mom and the rest of the family.

It was foggy up at elevation, but it cleared as I neared Manhattan.

George Washington Bridge. Brian loaned me his EZPass to make the crossings go a little easier.

Ah, New York City.

I rode around for a while trying to find a good spot for a picture but it was impossible to get away from traffic. I was almost crushed by a cab driver that felt that I would just HAVE to lose the merge despite 75% of my bike being out front of his bumper. As he came over at me I looked at him and he just stared at me as he continued to push me into the next lane. Luckily, the next lane had enough space to accept me. If I'd been wearing my MX boots, he'd need to replace his headlight.

Another bridge. I think I took the Queensboro after unsuccessfully negotiating cross-park traffic. Twice.

I stopped at my younger sister Nicole's job to surprise her. She knew I was in the area, but didn't think she'd see me until later tonight at dinner.

The Islanders practice arena

I got lucky and the local F.D. still had the doors open for this pic. Kenny, my step father, is a volunteer here and is a career fireman with the city of New York.

I don't think I ever realized how twisty the roads near mom were until I started riding a few years ago.

Cassidy, the Westie

Oliver, the Old English Sheep Dog (after a recent shave)

Out to dinner we go. Italian food in NY is about as good as it gets without needing a passport

Of course you have to deal with characters like this showing up while you eat

The Mommy

My sister Nicole and I

Mom stayed home and Melinda rove out from NJ to meet Nicole, our sister in law Kat, and me for Nelson Ladies Night at Dave & Busters. Emma, the newest Nelson gal, joined us in her stroller.

Nicole

Kat (quick on the smile even with candids)

Cool ceiling fans, all belt driven and working off the same motor

Some hoops

And trivia

And diaper changes

We were all exhausted and needing to be at my mother's for a BBQ the next day so we said out goodbyes and retired for the night.

New Jersey, New York
114 miles

2008-05-02T09:07:00.000-05:00

Day 7
May 2nd

Still in New Jersey staying with my sister, her husband, and their two boys.

"I'm with the band!"

"I has a foot"

Easy fries with lunch

Which, as it turns out, are not so easy

We ran some errands around town for most of the afternoon. It was drizzling, so Noah got to use his new Crayola umbrella.

Ice Cream!

Then over to the book store, where apparently it's more fun to sit on the bookshelves than it is to look at the books themselves.