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New England 98 Philip C. Kopp |
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| Travel |
Saturday, September 12 Tired! We got a decent start, but we are both so tired from work and getting ready for this trip that I decided to call it a day here. All day today I've been tired and concentrating has been difficult. We stopped for lunch at a Perkins in Spokane and after that I got my second wind. When we crossed into Montana I realized we had lost an hour to the time zone change, so when we stopped here for gas I decided not to push it. And...there was a pretty good NASACAR race on this evening, so I watched that. I fell asleep for some of it near the beginning though. The weather is perfect. Fourth of July and Lookout Pass are beautiful. Traffic is moderate and the bike is running well. Its getting about 35mpg, which I consider good for a full load. Tomorrow we'll be up early and try to make up a little on today's meager mileage total. We've decided to go south of the Great Lakes instead of north because of the time and road conditions. It will be faster in the States. Sunday A good day. We left Missoula about 6 this morning and rode awhile before stopping for breakfast at McDonalds. By the time we finished the sun was up and so it began to warm up. It was sure chilly starting out. Montana is really beautiful. Even riding the slab, the scenery is spectacular. Debb and I think a two-week vacation in Montana without benefit of the freeway is in order. All day today, we have seen dirt and gravel roads leading off into the hills. It must be dual sport heaven in these parts. We pushed on to Billings and then south to Sheridan, WY for lunch. Just west of Gilette we hit rain on and off all the way here. I had planned to go further, but the weather is really dark with a lot of lightning, so we're in for the night. Reports were that the Sturgis Rally was a wet one this year. It shows. The hills are quite green and in contrast to the very red earth in this area, quite striking. It would have been a fun day with a camera. Interstate 90 is downhill from Montana to the Mississippi River! Just when you think you are out of the mountains and onto the high plains you crest another rise and there's another range to go over. The world may be shrinking, but not when you're on a Goldwing. Since we left Montana and its 'reasonable and prudent', both Wyoming and South Dakota have been posted at 75. I saw one LEO in Montana and none since. I love the West! We should be across the Mississippi tomorrow and with that, a somewhat slower pace. Monday You might have to look a bit to find Marengo. It is just north of I-80, east of Iowa City. I thought we might get across the Mississippi today, but my sore butt won out and we're here for the night. 2 people, 1 night; $39 and change. I love small town America. After checking in we headed over to the town square and got a grilled ham and cheese at Dusty's just before they closed. 2 sandwiches, a large Pepsi and an ice cream cone; $7. I love small town America. There are some things about South Dakota I'm not so crazy about. In no particular order; Clouds; at least for us today. It was so overcast and foggy this morning we put our raingear on first thing. Hardly got a drop all day, but it looked like it might start any minute so we kept them on. After being in the rain all afternoon yesterday it sort of put a bad edge on the morning. Concrete; I-90 sucks in South Dakota. I was thinking of all sorts of derogatory comments to make about how the state legislature must be owned by the concrete companies, how they haven't yet figured out how to make two pieces of roadway match up evenly, and how it takes a stadium full of people to rebuild the shoulder along the side of the road, but I'm not saying that stuff. What I will say is that if I lived in South Dakota I would seriously consider getting into the shock and suspension business. Corn; I like the stuff. Kernels on my dinner plate, whole cobs in boiling water or on the barbecue, in the dinner trough of my favorite pet porker. I'll even take an hour or two and go to Mitchell, SD and check out the Corn Palace, a huge building made of the stuff. Where I don't want it is in my gas tank, in spite of what ADM and David Brinkley tell us. My Goldwing runs like poop on that ethanol mix. I switched to the premium grade without any corn additives and the Wing hums along like its old self once again. And get this. The farmers grow tons more corn each year so that we can burn it in our cars, getting worse gas mileage, supposedly making the air cleaner and the world a better place to live. Then what happens to all the corn stalks that are left over? You guessed it, they burn them. Can't have it laying around in the fields clogging up the farm equipment, now can we? I'm sure someone can show a cost benefit analysis of this scheme, but I'll be surprised if the primary beneficiaries aren't ADM, David Brinkley, and of course, our hard working farmers. The only thing we should be burning out here in South Dakota is the Omnibus Farm Bill and the ADM Rolodex card every elected representative seems to keep handy. Iowa on the other hand is quite nice. They have an excellent understanding of how to make concrete highways smooth. And all of them I want to ride on aren't under construction. We made excellent progress through this state. Finally the sun came out. We took off the raingear, took a break and then took off headed east on I-80. All the world was right again. Western Iowa is quite lovely. In fact, it looks like the state is one big landscaped garden. Not a corn stalk out of place, all the grass on the interstate right-of-ways neatly mowed, and the land is gently rolling hills rather than the everlasting flat of its northern neighbor. Most of the highways are chalk line straight, but I-80 has a bend or two. I think these roads were originally planned to be straight, but during construction local foremen were given a certain amount of leeway to reduce the boredom of their crews. They added a small jog left or right every now and then just to see if the grader drivers were paying attention. All in all a nice touch. Statistical note for those of you scoring at home; we passed the two thousand-mile mark today. Tomorrow the Mississippi and points northeast. Tuesday Notes from a long day on the road. We zipped through states today like nobody's business; Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and Ohio. I kept having some old anti-war rock and roll song about Ohio running through my head all afternoon. I'll remember it eventually. We're here in Mansfield and not Cleveland, or some other rust belt city further north, because of rumors of construction. Nearing the Mississippi this morning, there were big signs on the interstate warning of long delays on I-80 and I-90 around Chicago. This confirmed what the guy in Dusty's had mentioned last night at dinner. He told us of being stuck in construction back-ups for several hours, so when I saw the signs we headed south through the heartland. We hit some construction, but nothing particularly awful. We rode I-74 then I-70 and I-71 and a bunch of big-city bypasses. For the most part these are in good shape. Especially I-71 north to Cleveland. Very smooth and about one curve every half hour. BDC follies! A couple stand out, one from South Dakota and one from today. A couple of days ago we'd stopped for lunch and gas, and as we pulled out of the station I noticed that the new Cadillac in front of us had its gas door open and the cap snapped firmly in the holder on the door. I honked and pointed and little white haired lady paused momentarily, looked at us on the bike and then gunned it for the freeway. I was right behind her and redlined it in three gears before I realized she was doing her best to get away from us, biker scum that we are. About two hours later both Debb and I burst out laughing when this same lady went past with the gas door still open, gas cap still snapped in place. Apparently using the driver's side mirror isn't a priority for her. Today we learned a valuable lesson in the continuing war with the revenue agents. As we headed east into Indianapolis, a white van blasted past us about 25 over. Just ahead of us he nailed the brakes and I saw a state trooper going the other direction nail his too. Sure enough the trooper turns around and starts gaining on us. In the meantime, the white van has slowed to the limit and pulled in behind a truck in the slow lane. Bad move. But before the trooper gets to us, we come on a stretch of one lane construction. The trooper is behind me and the van is about five vehicles ahead. I slowed to 5 under the limit and the van slowly moved away. When the construction zone ended I could just see which way the van went and I'm sure the trooper could as well. We turned off so we didn't see how it ended, but I'm betting he got a ticket. Moral of the story; the van should have kept blasting. It would have put more time, distance and obstacles between him and the trooper and more opportunity for the unexpected. Like a good samaritan on a bike, or road construction, or maybe an opportunity to make a quick turn and be gone. Hey, it's a war out there. Take all the advantage you can get. As we rolled north on I-71 this evening my thoughts turned to what they often do in a similar situation. One; I'm glad I have a _really_ reliable bike. Imagine the hassle of a breakdown in that situation. Sometimes the best stuff is the only stuff to get for your bike. I could go on and on, but it really is simple. Good tires, good brakes, change the oil, get some rain gear and pack the credit card. Everything else is extra. Best fun you can have with your clothes on. Second; here we are, three time zones from home, riding along like we know what we're doing; no reservations, no specific plans, no schedule. What fun! I've always said vacations start when there is at least one state between the one you're in and home. Maybe I should add time zones to that. Tomorrow we get back north of I-90 and into the Empire State. Right now I'm going to finish this beer and maybe another. Wednesday We changed modes a bit today. Up at the usual time, but we were right next to McD's, so we had breakfast before hitting the road. This McD's was beautiful! Really nicely decorated and for once, not oriented towards kids. It even had a McMall. You can get a refrigerator magnet to go with your Big Mac. North on I-71 past Cleveland, I-90 into Pennslyvania and then onto New York 17, the Southern Tier Expressway, east toward Watkins Glen. At the western end of this highway is one of the most scenic routes you can ride on a limited access highway. The countryside is rolling hills with plenty of open fields and large vistas. Some fall colors were in evidence and I saw a bright pink tree. I'd never seen a tree that color, in the fall or any other time of year. We made a short detour to Watkins Glen to see the race track and the city itself. We were able to drive by the track and spent several minutes listening to a security guard go on and on and on and on about how sorry he was that we couldn't actually go into the facility. After a couple of proof-of-visit pictures, we headed into the town itself. Nice little village on the shores of Seneca Lake. This year is the fiftieth anniversary of racing at Watkins Glen so there are lots of old photos and other memorabilia all around the town. When I was growing up, I drank my share of Seneca Grape juice. Now I realize where it came from. We saw several vineyards in the area. And in the village itself, all the curbs are stone. "Curbstones" isn't just a word. While we dwaddled around playing tourist, the sun was busy burning off the overcast. We headed east again on 17, through Binghamton and on toward Albany. Near Binghamton the speed limit drops to 55, but everyone still does 70. In fact, Indianapolis was like that; the freeway was actually posted at 50, but nobody was going slower than 65. After stopping for gas, we lost the headlights on the Goldwing. This happened once before and I couldn't find anything amiss, so I chalked it up to too much water after cleaning the bike. Tonight I pulled the seat and discovered a blown fuse. Thankfully the spare was in place and we were soon on our way. Now stop reading this for a minute, close your eyes and visualize on your bike where the fuses are and where you keep the spares. What, you're not sure? Well, dig out the manual (You _do_ have the manual, right?) and figure it out. On the side of I-81 at 9 at night is no place to learn. Besides, in your garage you can have a beer while you study. Tomorrow we'll pick up some spare fuses and cross the Hudson for some serious touristing. Thursday "It's a beautiful morning, uh huh. I think I'll..." I can't remember the artist's name, but that tune was running through my head all morning. And it was a beautiful morning. Up, shower, breakfast, get gas and fuses and on our way at the crack of 9:30. And just to keep our day symmetrical, we have checked into an overpriced Econo Lodge, had dinner downtown, walked around, browsed through a bookstore, bought a book and are back tucked away for the night at 8 PM. It is good to finally be on vacation. We arrived in Vermont by way of Bennington, a great little town in the southwest corner of the state. Not overly 'New England', but pleasing to the eye and spirit. We had a leisurly café latte and pastry and read the paper as the sun warmed things up for us out on the road. Neat little town and there is a antique car show there this weekend. (Sept. 19th and 20th) Getting from there to here is a truly wonderful road. Vermont 100 follows the Green Mountains north and south, and takes you to one beautiful New England village after another. There is just the beginnings of fall colors to brighten the hills. And the temperature was just right for a jacket while riding and a T-shirt while walking around. Perfect. To paraphrase Ben Franklin; "Vermont Route 100 is proof that the Department of Transportation likes motorcycles and wants us to have a good time." If you're here, don't miss it. I was not going to make any comments about the sad state of US politics, but several things happened today that made me change my mind. First, at a gas station a man came up and asked if those were really Washington STATE plates. Then he asked where we were from and when we had left home. We chatted awhile, but all afternoon I kept thinking I should have said, "Clinton was President when we left, who's got it now?" Second, at the bookstore there was a paperback book on the shelf of the Starr Report, in its entirety. It hasn't been a week and already its been downloaded, typeset, printed, and distributed. Amazing. And then at dinner this evening our waitress was a young lady from San Francisco ("I had a psychic vision, so I moved to Vermont.") named Monica. It made me think that there are so many words we will never hear or use in the same way since we learned about that other Monica. Like intern, and improper relationship, and sexual relations, and "El Schmucko" and a dozen more. What a jerk he is for being so dumb he can't even diddle a ditz and not get caught. Still not inhaling, eh Bill? Now I have to look at the map and figure out where we are vacationing tomorrow. I hope "It's a beautiful morning..." Friday Yes, we went further than 39 miles, but not much. Another clear and warm fall day and and we spent most of it being lazy in the sun. After almost a week of several hundred mile days it was nice to use only one tank full of gas today. After a really delightful coffee and pastry in Montpelier we headed west and toured the islands in Lake Champlain. These islands are part farmland and part resort and completely pretty. There are lots of boats and bridges and really cute little cabins where you can sit and watch the sun rise over the Green Mountains in Vermont and set over the Adirondacks in New York. This afternoon we wandered around downtown Burlington. Found a room, smoked a cigar, took a nap, called the Honda dealer about getting the oil changed (sorry, no) and saw a movie. Movies are expensive here; about $32 for tickets, drinks, popcorn and a candy. On the other hand, parking downtown for several hours was only $1.25. Go figure. Debb spotted a really cool event to go see in Stowe tomorrow, so we're off for a spot of British, eh what? Saturday Newport is about 30 miles west of Bangor. We stopped here because I was tired of driving and because it had everything I was looking for in the morning. There is a McD's for Debb and a truck stop for me. Nowadays, most gas stations are gas and junk food, no service bays. My trailer has two grease fittings and I need a couple of shots before we get going in the morning. And I need to add a little air to the trailer suspension, as it seems to have settled just a bit this last week. The spot of British was British Invasion VIII held on a large open field near Stowe. An all-British club meeting, concours, swap meet, new car sales opportunity, and even a trials course for the Range Rover crowd. We walked around looking at all the neat toys these folks have and then spent quite a while watching the Rover trials. There were new ones and old ones, shiny ones and used ones and the ones that seem to do the best were the old, short wheelbase, smaller-tired ones that were driven by some guy who looked like he'd bought it new and they'd collected their dents together over the years. One guy was very cool in his older Rover, brier pipe firmly between his teeth, as he just sort of drove nonchalantly through the course, hardly bothering to even look at the marker stakes he had to clear. I never saw him make a misstep. And the new ones are so quiet. Usually the whole family was belted in as Mom or Dad drove the course. They moved in silent slow motion, with only the occasional sound of a tire slipping or the suspension being fully compressed or extended. Sort of the British understatement mode of offroading. Can't be disurbing the wine, now can we? Stowe is quite a beautiful in a very posh sort of way. Lots of lushly landscaped Inns and Resorts, cute little shops and lots of people walking around with ice cream cones and shopping bags. Even the McD's is finished in a New England style and the sign is properly modest. In fact, one thing that stands out for me in Vermont and New Hampshire is the lawns. Even the most modest of homes, and even mobile homes of which there are very few, have substantial lawns. And the really nice places have huge lawns, often several acres, bordered with flower gardens and maybe a vegetable garden. There are the usual collection of stunning estates, but the effort of the lawns is quite extraordinary. And plenty of John Deere dealers to sell and service the riding mowers you need for acres of grass. Since today was Saturday, we saw a lot more bikes on the road than we have before, and by an overwhelming margin they are Harleys. I think I have seen a dozen Goldwings, maybe a dozen BMW's, but hundreds of Harleys. In the restaurant tonight, there were at least 12 riders having dinner and only one non-Harley in the lot, that being a Goldwing trike conversion, the only one I've seen. There seem to be very few sport bikes out on the roads. We've seen a few, but they are few and far between. Of the 40 so so bikes parked at the British Invasion today, there were two, a ZX6 and a ZX11. Tomorrow we are off to the coast and Bar Harbor. I can't pronounce it they way they do around here, but I think they have no need for r's. Sounds like Ba Haba. We'll go and investigate. Sunday Yes indeed, boys and girls, another butt numbing 5 gallon day. We did pass the 4,000 mile mark, however. I love vacation! We headed toward downeast Maine and spent several pleasant hours in the city of Bar Harbor and on Mt. Desert Island. Bar Harbor is a wonderful little tourist trap that has a surprisingly good coffee and bagel place. We gave it the Phil and Debb Stamp of Approval. All along the road leading into town are some really stunning inns, motels and lodges. If you're in the area, you should stay a night or two. We cruised around the island and then made our way here this afternoon. We'll stay here a couple of days. We have a recommendation from our host for a lobster restaurant and this evening as we walked downtown for dessert and coffee, we spotted some likely candidates for coffee and pastry in the morning. There are lots of well kept examples of New England architecture here, so tomorrow I'm going to take some pictures. I love vacation! Monday We were expecting rain today, especially after watching The Weather Channel last night, but it just misted a bit this morning and then stopped. Its quite muggy though, and still warm out. So today we were basically slackers. We were up and about late, did our laundry just up the street, got lobster and crab rolls for lunch and came back here for a nap. You know how awfully tiring that laundry can be. Later, we wandered downtown and found another good coffee place to give our Stamp of Approval. A headline on a Men's Journal magazine caught my eye; 'The 5 best motorcycle roads in America'. Wow, narrowing it down to five is pretty good. The article turned out to be a piece by Stephen LaPlant about how motorcycle sales are up lately with a few sidebars about various bike styles; cruisers, sportbikes, tourers, and Hogs; and some representative models of each. The 5 roads were certainly interesting, and I've been on three or four of them, but the best? I'm not sure. In retrospect, maybe they were the best roads the author recalled. What I am sure of is that the non-riding public certainly doesn't get much of substance about our sport in the popular media. I came away from it thinking there is so much of the story still untold. A part that doesn't have to do with the latest styling or technology, but with the spiritual and social aspects of our sport. We had a cool waiter at dinner this evening. We were seated near their work area so we got to chat between orders. Near the end of our meal, he recommended several roads and destinations. "Do you have some time to wander around, or are you in a hurry to be somewhere?" he asked. "Lots of time," I said. "Take this road right here," as he points out the window at the street below, "Bay View Drive." Then he cups his hand near his mouth and says in an exagerated voice, "Left at the cemetary, left at the golf course. Left at the cemetary, left at the golf course." "Left at the cemetary, left at the golf course." I repeated obediently. "Then take the second right. The first right is a driveway. Take the second right." "Take the second right." I echoed. These insructions will take us to an old stone children's chapel overlooking the sea, a place he often goes in nice weather to eat on the grass and enjoy the scenery. Then he gave us several other roads and areas to explore, and we will, if the weather holds. Tuesday It took us awhile to get out of Camden, but finally we did. I think we went the length of Main Street at least 10 times, driving or walking. The waiter knew his stuff. I wish we had gotten his name so I could give him the credit he deserves, but somehow I missed asking for it. In my experience, vacations are made or lost because of people like our waiter. I'm not sure many of them realize how much their seemingly simple suggestions add to a vacation. The places he directed us to we would never have come across on our own, and we'll count them among the highlights of our trip. I raise a glass to the upstairs waiter at Cappy's in Camden, ME. As we came south today we took several secondary roads out toward the Atlantic whenever the scenery looked inviting. The coast of Maine is truly beautiful. Today was a bit foggy and cool and it gave the coastline a very serene and peaceful look. Many of the houses and estates we went by are just breathtaking, and some of the houses are just enormous. I bet the heating bills are too. Around Bath the rain came and pretty hard. We looked around in the old downtown a bit, but decided to get past Portland, find a room, and get out of the wet. Tomorrow we leave the coast and head for New Hampshire and the White Mountains. Wednesday Brrrrrrrrrr. It has turned into fall all of a sudden. The warmest it got anywhere we were at today was about 65, but mosly is was in the fifties. And its suppose to be near freezing tonight. Debb and I wore our elecric coats today and my guess is that tomorrow we'll actually plug them in. It still takes me some time each morning to look at the map of Vermont and New Hampshire and figure out the scale. "One inch equals approximately 7.5 miles" is what mine says. On that scale, you sort of have to figure out where to screw around some in order to not be completely done with your intended route by noon. We did a pretty good job today. Out of Maine on Route 25 into NH and then north on 16 to Conway, where the nice people at the Honda dealership changed my oil on a moments notice. I will write them a nice letter when I return home, thanking them for that courtesy. It was much appreciated. I am still amazed by the fact that, even at a Honda dealership, some people are stunned that you would ride a Goldwing so far in so short a time. What the hell do they think we bought them for, to carry groceries from Safeway? I guess most people just don't go very far on their motorcycles. We crossed the White Mountains today on the Kancamagus Highway that took us over Kancamagus Pass. I love that word: Kancamagus, Kancamagus, Kancamagus. Sounds faintly medical when you say it fast. And we went through Passaconaway getting there. I love it. Occasionally though, the folks who are naming these local villages get stuck and can't think of a new one. Maine was full of this, but NH has its share as well. On Route 109 is Sandwich. Just up the road at the intersection with Route 113 is Center Sandwich, and northeast of that is North Sandwich and southeast, on Route 25 is East Sandwich. You could drive through all of them and not budge the second from right number on your odometer. As we were driving through Claremont this afternoon, apparently looking lost, in search of a motel, a guy on a K1100 looked at us and yelled, "What are you looking for?" We told him and he brought us to the place we are at now. While on vacation, the kindness of strangers is a blessing. Tomorrow we'll continue south, possibly as far as Massachusetts and Route 2, and then Vermont Route 7 north again. Assuming, of course, we aren't frozen in here. Brrrrrrrrrr. Thursday Well, it was damn cold in the morning but the fates conspired to help us avoid the worst of it. We were up ready to go at the crack of 8:00 and then discovered the rear suspension wouldn't hold air. We parked in the sun next to a Texaco station and after a couple of false starts, managed to get the air connection clean and solid and its now working perfectly. By the time we finished it was nearly 9:00 so the fog had burned off and the sun was bright. Last night we also noticed one of the headlights was out, so we happened by a Honda dealer this afternoon and got a new one. After singing the praises of my reliable machine I've had two failures. But they're minor, repaired and haven't caused us any delay. Today we added another state to our collection. We followed Massachusetts Route 2 west from I-91 to Route 7. This is a very enjoyable highway as it climbs over a small range of mountains. The expansive vistas of the surrounding countryside from the summit are quite extraordinary and rate among the best of our trip. Also the towns of North Adams and Williamstown on the western end are college towns with lots of beautiful and well maintained old buildings. There were several old deserted factory buildings along the route through North Adams. We wondered what they'd been used for, but didn't stop to ask. Over lunch today we decided to leave for home a few days early and travel across Canada to get there. That's why we're way up here in New York State. The fall colors should be further along up here and neither of us has seen any of eastern Canada. First thing tomorrow we have to get a new map. Friday Bonjour! Bienvenue a Montreal. Out of respect for the language and its practitioners, I won't mutilate any more French. You can't help but learn a little since nearly all the signs here are labeled in both languages. 'Nearly' is the key word there, not everything. Like most things in life, its that last 10 percent that's critical. I think I only drove around the central business district of Montreal three times in my attempt to get on the right road to Ottawa, but it may have been four. Viewing a short video of me trying to understand driving instructions from a well meaning French speaking businessman will make you understand why there is so much turmoil in the world. Getting into town was an adventure too. The highway is posted at 100 kph Maximum, 60 Minimum. Yeah, right. Try 110 Minimum and Formula 3000 nearer the top end. This does tend to focus the mind, however, and it improves your concentration immensely. Once back to normal conditions things seem to happen in a sort of slow motion and you feel like you're about 10 seconds ahead of everyone around you. Cool, but it wears off after awhile. In Montreal today, we walked around Old Montreal and stepped in to visit an old church. What a beauty. Three large stained glass windows on either side of the sanctuary and the walls and ceilings were all painted in beautiful scenes from Scripture. I took several pictures without flash that I'm hopeful for. We did a little shopping at Molson Place, home of the Montreal Canadiens of the NHL. We (okay, I) have decided to get a souvenier at each of the NHL cities in Canada. Tomorrow its Ottawa (Senators), then Toronto (Maple Leafs), Edmonton (Oilers), Calgary (Flames), and finally Vancouver (Canucks). I'll be all set for those vicious body checks this winter. Saturday "No phone, no pool, no pets... I'm king of the road." Roger Miller was singing about the room we got this evening. This place is straight out of the 50's. Two opposite walls are green and the other two are yellow. The ceiling has a handpainted border and the rest a very busy stencil. The bathroom is lavendar and green, but seems clean. Forty dollars, cash. Today we rode the slab to Toronto. This city is huge. The main expressway into town was closed for repairs so we slogged through Saturday afternoon traffic into the heart of the city. And the heart of this city is big. Shops of all descriptions for block after block. We finally got parked and walked to the Maple Leaf Garden and picked up our souvenirs. Then we treated our addiction with a triple grande latte at Starbucks. Our first Starbucks since leaving Seattle. People watching is definitely a world class sport in this city. We saw it all and then some. Debb and I shared a spicy street-vendor hot dog and spent some time watching the entertainment walk by. Great fun! And I am great stupid, for I forgot my camera. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I vow never to wander without it again. For the ladies, the current style seems to be a skin tight top, skin tight black bellbottom pants, preferrably of some shiny material, and last but definitely not least, a pair of BUFS. Haven't heard of BUFS? Sure you have, you see them everyday. Big Ugly F*cking Shoes. The bigger, the heavier looking, the thicker and more cleated the sole, the better. Whoever is making the best BUFS is making some serious money. BUFS are worn with nearly every outfit, but the ones I enjoy the most are on some waif of a woman wearing a sleeveless bouncy little miniskirt and 15" BUFS on 2" soles. Ready to go, day or evening. For the gentlemen, it is grunge, in all it wide variety. Hair is out these days, though there are still a few holdouts with shoulder length, but for the most part, short is in. In fact, shaved is gaining rapidly in popularity. Shaved on the sides that is, just a bit longer on the top. It's a look that would make your old boot camp drill instructor proud. Big baggy pants, a t-shirt with some corporation's name on it, and of course, $200 running shoes. A hat is optional, but big pockets in the big baggy pants and a huge oversize Nike warm-up jacket are not. I could have shot twenty rolls of film today of the people walking by. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Tomorrow we leave the big city behind and head north to the Bruce Penninsula and a ferry to Manitoulin Island. Damn, Ontario is big. Sunday Ferrys are time machines you can take anytime you like. They will take you from one reality to another, and they serve lunch on the way. Today we took one from Tobermory to South Baymouth and the change could not have been more dramatic. We left neatly tended corn fields, 100 year old farmhouses and quaint little seaport villages with ice cream shops, and we came to a windswept island of cattle farms, fishing villages, lakes, bays and ponds at every turn, and some of the most beautiful fall colors of the trip. Manitoulin Island is home to such places as Tehkummah, Manitowaning, Wikwemikang and Sheshegwaning. Fortunately, there are also places like Evansville, Providence Bay and Sandfield, so you'll be able to tell the operator the name of a town near where you are actually trying to reach. I'm glad I'm not a student with a spelling problem in these parts. The fall colors are getting right with the program here. Several times we rounded a corner and the sight of every shade of red, yellow, green and gold on one tree was startling. Then we would round another corner and a whole stretch of trees would be brilliantly highlighted by the sun, then around yet another and the colors would be rich and saturated in the shade. Just onto the mainland we saw a whole hillside brilliant in the sun with every fall color imaginable. Quite stunning. The landscape here is more varied than I expected, lots of sharp hills and ravines, and sudden views of the water or a stone outcropping. And there seems less of an accent here than we heard in the southern part of the Province. I just love a well-oiled time machine. We'll have to make some time on the highway tomorrow if we expect to sleep somewhere besides Ontario tomorrow night. Monday Whew! Our first long day in the saddle in quite awhile and it shows. We are tired and grumpy. This wasn't a day to see anything in particular, just whatever happened by on the way. Fortunately quite a bit happened by. Between Sault Ste. Marie and Wawa we enjoyed the most spectacular fall colors of the trip. Whole hillsides covered in colors to take your breath away. Along the sides of the road were stretches of such brilliant yellow and orange and rust colors that we had to stop and get pictures in spite of our travelling agenda. Between Wawa and Marathon the birch trees are in full color. It looked like some giant kid had dipped a finger or two in a can of bright yellow paint and then swirled them around across the countryside. Passing through some of these bright stretches felt like riding on a Warner Bros. cartoon set. The sunlight on the white bark and brilliant leaves in contrast to the evergreens is a sight to behold. I was half expecting to see Bugs Bunny leaning against a tree nibbling a carrot. This country is a complete surprise for me. I expected long flat sections of sparse pine trees and lots of standing water. Nothing of the sort. This is hilly country with lots of lakes and ravines and rivers. Near Marathon there are high terraced cliffs of bright rock columns with evergreens trees growing on each level that the afternoon sun spotlighted for us as the road dropped down to Lake Superior. Tomorrow we'll head for Winnipeg and gain back one of those hours we lost a couple of weeks ago. Damn, Ontario is big. Tuesday At 1:58 PM Central Daylight Time we finally crossed into Manitoba. Damn, Ontario is big. Lots of miles (I guess I should be saying kilometers up here in Oh! Canada.) today and lots of changes along the way. We started in the rolling hills and forests of western Ontario and ended in the almost perfectly flat high northern prairie of Manitoba. It was very cold and damp this morning but when we arrived in Winnipeg this afternoon, the sun was shining and it was quite pleasant. Today was the first time I have plugged in my electric jacket and I left it on for long periods of time. It was chilly this morning. This morning in the forests there were still lots of brilliant birch trees. Their shimmery yellow and gold tops perched on the white tree trunks remind me of giant all day suckers. It is a treat to see Mother Nature's all natural, no calories, appearing every fall on a hillside near you color extravaganza. In Manitoba the speed limit finally inched up to 100 kph. Not that anyone was particularly paying attention to the 90 that is posted throughout Ontario. Just before getting gas this morning I was cruising at about 115 and an Ottawa Provincial Police car came up behind. I thought for sure I was going to get a performance award, but the driver just passed me at the next opportunity and gave a wave as she went by. No harm, no foul. My only other issue up here is the price of gas. Mostly, regular is about 53 to 60 cents a liter. Premium a dime higher. A liter, for Pete's sake! In Indiana we paid 87.9 cents a gallon! Canadian taxes, which are substantial normally, must be exorbitant on gasoline. I think the wholesale price of gas in the US is below 50 cents a gallon these days. Fortunately, the current exchange rate keeps gas at merely twice the US price. While pondering this situation, it occurred to me to wonder if Canadian truckers might be heading south to cheaper prices and more abundant freeways for longer hauls east and west. We have generally been oblivious to the weather on this trip. We have our electric jackets and our rain gear, so come what may. But today's thoroughly chilling ride and a few minutes watching the local weather station, gave us pause about our plans. The expected low tomorrow night in Edmonton is -1 with 40 percent chance of precip. That seems like a forecast for slick icy roads, so we're going to check the forecast again tomorrow as we head west and adjust accordingly. Even if Edmonton is decent, the mountains may be impassable this late, so Saskatoon, Saskatchewan may be the end of our Canadian Odyssey this year. Stay tuned. Wednesday The phrase "High Plains Drifter" kept going through my head all day today, that is if you call 115 kph drifting. The weather report kept me headed west all day today so Saskatoon and points north will have to wait another day. Around Winnipeg and also Moose Jaw are sections of land that are billiard table flat and are to the horizon in every direction. There are sections in South Dakota and Indiana just as flat but there are many more trees that outline each field and your view is limited. Once having lunch on a hot day in Oklahoma, we were seated next to a local sheriff. I asked him if it got cold there in the winter. He replied, "You bet it does. The only thing between us and the North Pole is a barbed wire fence." I spent several hours riding by that fence today. This country is actually fairly interesting, you just have to look for things you normally wouldn't pay any attention to. In areas that aren't completely flat, because you can see so far, you can see how the land flows, how each level of plains is seperated by wrinkled hills, and how the road gradually but relentlessly climbs as you head west toward the mountains. I thought we would see the Rockies this evening, but we still aren't close enough. I'm looking forward to seeing them in the morning with the sun highlighting them. I don't often see the Rockies from this side. Only one more time zone and my laptop clock will be right again. It will be good to be home. Thursday Tonight we are staying with friends who, besides their spare bedroom, have given us drink, cooked us dinner, and even offered cigars. We spent the evening catching up. Today's interesting road was the Crowsnest Highway through Alberta and British Columbia. It is a very scenic highway through the Rockies that deserves a week of casual riding and exploring rather than the five hours we gave it today. One of the notable attractions is the Frank Slide, a rockfall that is famous for its long uphill runout. The highway goes directly through the rockfall and its quite a sight. Its good to be back in the States and not have to be continually converting units; gas, or dollars or kilometers. Just read the signs and you know what you need to know. After nearly three weeks on the road I'm getting lazy. Home in my own bed tomorrow night. Boy, that sounds good. Friday This is the first time I can remember that we have finished a vacation with only a half day's ride. We got home not completely exhausted and we spoke pleasantly to each other all afternoon. I highly recommend it. |
| Travel |
Its good to be home. |