Last Post for this trip

 Well, I have been back home for over a week and have had time to reflect on this year’s very interesting trip. I think that one way to appreciate the scope of this trip is to examine the following picture (the details are somewhat easier to see when it is expanded).

The Postits indicate the places where I stayed overnight. 

Here is some summary information:

Days away: from June 3 to July 3, 31 days

Total kilometres travelled: 9,357 (the 6th longest Retirement Ride since the first such ride in 2010

Longest day’s ride: 562 km on June 9th from Sioux Falls SD to Valentine NE

18 States, or portions thereof, visited during the trip

Gas: 451.6 Litres; 4.83L/100 Km

Accommodations: 22 hotels/Inn/motels, 2 private residences. 

Best: Patterson Inn, Denver; second best: Pueblo Bonito, Santa Fe; third: Cotton Court, Lubbock

Worst: St James Hotel, Selma

Best breakfasts: Patterson Inn, Denver

Best breakfast buffet spread: Holiday Inn Express and Suites, Webster NY

Great Meals:  Denver, Santa Fe, Birmingham

Best attractions and sights: Rocky Mountain Park, CO; Puye Cliff Dwellings, NM; everything in Denver and Santa Fe; White Sands National Park, NM;  Contemporary Art Museum, Roswell NM; National Military Park, Vicksburg, MS; and the River Festival in Charleston, WV.

Interesting encounters/events:  a guy sitting at a table with his buddies with a holstered gun at breakfast in a small dinner in Gordon NE; the amusing incident of the young boy and the pancake conveyor machine in Roswell NM; my free ´paid forward’ lunch in Lubbock TX, and my free gas fill-up in Knoxville TN

And finally the weather, WET, sometimes very, in the North;  and quite, record breaking even, HOT in the South.

So, I leave you with a picture that Jane took from the chase car as we headed south to Santa Fe; just this guy on a retirement ride.

Hopefully we can do this again next year! Take care!

“Welcome home.” - “Thank you, it’s nice to be back!”

 My exchange with the nice CBSA agent yesterday at the Thousand Islands Bridge border crossing pretty much sums up my emotions. It is always great to be able to go on my Retirement Rides and discover parts of America, that immense continent that we are so fortunate to live on. But its even a greater joy to be able to return to “Canada our home and native land”. 

Once I have had the time to compile some of the statistics I will post a last entry in this year’s blog. But for now here are a few quick facts. I was away from home for 31 days and covered 9,357 kilometres. I stayed in 23 different hotels/motels and two private residences. I don’t know why but I saw far fewer motorcycles on the road than during previous trips, some days none. Weather-wise there were only a few really nice riding days; otherwise it was either WET, sometimes quite so, or HOT, often blazing heat-warnings hot. 

I have memories a plenty, including particularly wonderful ones when Jane was able to join me in Colorado and New Mexico, and I look forward to sharing some with friends and family members in the days and months ahead.

Did I miss the memo?

 With the exception of the four Harley riders that I saw at breakfast at the hotel where I stayed last night, I did not see another bike over the 6 hours and 338 kilometres I travelled today between Conneaut Ohio, a small city west of Erie, and Webster New York, an eastern suburb of Rochester.  Maybe it was the steady rain that did not let up throughout the journey, or maybe it was because it was Sunday and all the bikers were at Sunday services after their Saturday rally rides. I overheard one of the aforementioned bikers at breakfast say to the others that she had not packed any rain gear for their trip; since it sounded like they had some distance to cover that was a mistake!

The route I followed which avoided major highways took me through the wine country that extends through many counties in upstate Pennsylvania and New York. There are miles after miles of vineyards and many wineries, including the Johnson Estate Winery that claims to be the oldest in America.

Here’s hoping that the rain will stop long enough for me to walk to a local restaurant for dinner and that it will hold off for tomorrow’s last leg of this year’s major motorcycle trip.

Using the fast lane from Charleston,WV to Conneaut, OH on Canada Day

 Last night I went out for a stroll along the riverfront in Charleston to see the large crowd that had come out to see me; or maybe they were there to take in the festivities of Regatta Weekend in the State Capital. There was live entertainment, amusement rides for children and older folk, a proper midway with games, many different food and beverage concessions on the street that runs parallel to the river, and many boats, including a collection of large paddle wheelers. 

While I prefer to avoid the major highways in the USA when I am on my motorcycle, there is something to be said about the benefits of a divided four lane highway with a 70 mph speed limit if you want to quickly cover a long distance and you don’t mind missing all the small towns and cities along the way. So that’s what I did today; I did the 491 km from Charleston, West Virginia to Conneaut, Ohio, including a section on smaller roads that Lucy added just for fun I guess, in just over five hours.

Birmingham to Knoxville and Charleston

 Let me share a few tidbits about my brief stay in Birmingham. I arrived late on Tuesday afternoon and after a quick shower I took a taxi to Bistro Two Eighteen, one of the best restaurants I had been lucky enough to get a late reservation at. The food, a delicious Gulf crab salad, a perfectly cooked steak on a lovely mushroom and shallot reduction with matchstick French fries, the wines, an Oregon Chardonnay and a Malbec, and the service were all excellent.

Since I was early I walked a few blocks on University Avenue and came to “The Heaviest Intersection in America”. Whether that was true or not at the time that the name was given the buildings on each of the four corners are impressive.

Wednesday’s 424 kilometres ride that touched on parts of Alabama, Louisiana, Georgia and finally Tennessee ended in Knoxville. The landscape keeps getting more interesting as you move North throug the Appalachian range. 

Yesterday was an interesting day.  It started with an encounter with another BMW motorcycle aficionado at an Exon station in Knoxville where I had stopped to gas up.  As I was trying to get the gas pump to accept my credit card, that it was refusing because I don’t hav a five digit zip code, this guy comes over and offers to help which he does using the app on his phone. We talk BMW motorcycles, the advantage of an RT (my model) and a GS. I suggest that since he wants to take his bike off-road, he’d probably prefer the GS. When I reach for my wallet to reimburse him for the gas, he declines the cash and wishes me a safe journey. I thank him, we say goodbye, and I don’t even know his name, nor he mine. Just two biker friends.

For those of you who have been following my blog for some time, and for others who would like to catch up, you will recall that back in June of 2014, I shared an episode with Lucille (Lucy), my internal GPS lady/guide. Well, she was up to it again yesterday. After getting me out of Knoxville efficiently and on the road to Charleston, at one point she decided to take me on an adventure on roads that got progressively narrower and windier. I humoured her for a fair bit but when she pointed me to something that looked like a back lane in the mountain I put my foot down. That is I reversed course, ignored her repeated admonitions to “Make a u-turn!”, and returned to something resembling a highway where I then reprogrammed my GPS with a more direct route to Charleston WV.  I don’t know how much of my 510 kilometres day were due to Lucy’s detour, but I know that parts of it were in Tennessee, Virginia, Kentucky and West Virginia. The scenery is amazing.

Today was a no-ride day in Charleston, the capital of West Virginia, and I took advantage of my time here to visit the State Capital Building, the State Museum, and the Capital Market where I had lunch and chatted with some locals.

Vicksburg National Military Park to Selma, Montgomery and Birmingham AL

 The visit to the Vicksburg Military Park, one of the most significant Civil War battlefields, was very interesting. As are other sites where the battles between the Union and Confederate forces occurred which I have visited on previous rides, this one is extremely well set up so for visitors to see where the forces, red signs for  the Confederate and blue for the Union, were aligned and what ground they were either defending of attacking. There are countless plaques, statues, monuments and artifacts along the more than 16 miles of winding tour route.

The 40 acre cemetery holds the remains of 17,000 union soldiers, more than at any other national cemetery. 

I arrived at my hotel, the St James Hotel on Water Street in Selma Alabama early enough to be able to walk across the Edmund Pettus Bridge, the site of a violent confrontation between civil rights marchers   on Bloody Sunday, March 7, 1965.

Today I rode to Montgomery and went to visit the First White House of the Confederacy, a house that in the Spring of 1681 was rented by the newly formed Confederate Government as an executive residence for President Jefferson Davies and his young family, the Alabama State Capital building, the Dexter Avenue King Memorial Church where MLK preached and where marches and other protest activities were planned, and the Museum of Alabama with its excellent gallery, Alabama Voices, that presents the history of the state from the dawn of the 1700s to the beginning of the 21st century and that deals with many topics including slavery, the Civil War, reconstruction, segregation, and the fight for civil rights for all.

After these visits I had to have lunch at Chris’ Hot Dog, a family-run business located a few blocks from the Capital that has been going since 1917. Nothing fancy here but a steady stream of customers being served by friendly and efficient wait staff.

I then rode to Birmingham in temperature as high as 39 degrees. Tomorrow I continue north to Knoxville Tennessee.

Texarkana Arizona to Vicksburg Mississippi

 Before leaving Vicksburg this morning I went to what is, apparently, the second most photographed court building in the United States. It is an interesting building and it’s location straddling the border between the Texas and Arkansas.

There’s a heat wave extending through many southern states and, while I don’t feel the effects of the heat when I am moving, it’s a different thing when I stop, even briefly for a traffic light or a stop sign. 36 degrees with no breeze at all is HOT. 

Today’s route saw me cross the whole of the state of Louisiana, and arrive in Vicksburg late this afternoon. The battle for Vicksburg in the Spring of 1863 was about who would control the Mississippi. The Federalists led by Major General Ulysses S. Grant would defeat Lt. General John C. Pemberton’s Confederate troops. Tomorrow I will tour the Vicksburg National Park.

and then ride to Selma, Alabama.

Eastward to Gainesville and Texarkana

Before riding out of Lubbock yesterday I dropped by a couple of places that pay tribute to a legend of music who was born here.

 The farther east I go the more the landscape looks greener and the more wind turbines are present. In some places they extend for miles on either side of the highway, sometimes as close as 200-300 yards apart. It is interesting to see how Texas has moved so aggressively to adopt this source of alternative energy.

I stopped for lunch at the Rock Inn Cafe in Seymour, 

a place where probably little, inside or outside, has changed much since the 50’s or at least the early 60’s. The chrome of the red plastic covered stools at the counter are more rusted and the holes in the faux-leather seats in the booths are covered with layers of black duct tape. The daily special, a staple of any vintage diners menu that I have with iced tea, a beverage I tend to get a lot of on these trips, is hamburger steak with raw onion pieces and mashed potatoes all drenched with some kind of beige gravy, and black-eyed peas.

I make it to my hotel room in Gainesville just before the announced heavy rain starts to fall. It’s a short storm but still I am glad not to be riding in it.

This morning I know I have overshot my destination when I start seeing signs along the highway and I eventually arrive in Paris. Yep, Paris, complete with a Paris Bakery, where I have a tasty lunch of bagel with ham, cheese, tomato, chili flakes and capers, plus a croissant and a cappuccino, and an Eiffel Tower, albeit of a more modest scale and topped with a red Stetson.

And then with the compass on my GPS hardly moving from its due east bearing I go from Paris to Detroit to New Boston and finally to Texarkana. By the way do you know in what state Texarkana is located?

See you tomorrow as we continue to head east.

Two small stories - Roswell and Lubbock

 It starts at breakfast this morning at the Days Inn I stayed at, and it involves this young lad.

As I was drinking my coffee a young lad walked into the breakfast room with a book in one hand and he surveyed the offerings. He focuses on the automatic pancake machine and pushes the button to launch the process. Since he doesn’t detect any response he pushes the button again, and again, and again, and again, and walks away. At that point, wanting to be of assistance I say: “You need to get a plate”, to catch the pancake as it spills off the conveyor belt. He hesitates, bounces on both feet, looks around to locate the stack of paper plates, retrieves one and rushes back to, just about, catch the first pancake. Then the second pancake emerges, and a third…He then peers into the machine through the glass window and sees more pancakes moving along? He’s surprised and confused and reads the red digital display; 15.  I ask him if he had read the big sign on top of the pancake maker. It says: Press ONLY once for 3 pancakes.  Shortly he has 15 small pancakes on a plate in front of him, when his mother walks in the room. “Well, it didn’t start so I pressed the button again”. Mother, shaking her head, responded, “once!?”  I left the room at that point.

The ride from Roswell to Lubbock is across a vast plain, arid at first, with increasingly more vegetation as one goes from New Mexico to Texas where there are fields with large automated watering systems with different crops growing. There are extensive oil fields with hundreds of pumpjacks visible from the highway on either side of the state line. 

My second story is related to this,

After a quick shower to cool down from the 36 degree heat at Cotton Court Hotel in Lubbock, Texas, I decided to go out for some lunch. I had discovered on the internet that close by there was Dirk’s Signature Chicken and Bar. That it’s menu featured Gulf oysters in addition to roasted and deep fried chicken appealed to me. I ordered the oysters and a glass of Chardonnay that they didn’t then did have. When it came time to pay, my waitress came over and informed me that someone, who did not want to be identified, had already paid for my meal. To say I was surprised is an understatement. There were only about a dozen people in the place and, try as I might to do so, it was impossible to identify who among them was my benefactor. Something like this has never happened to me. I left a nice tip under the menu that was still on my table, and wished the bartender a nice day as I walked out smiling into the midday Lubbock heat.