The Catskill Chronicle

Thursday, September 10, 2009

8:00 p.m. -  A park on the border of Washington and Idaho.

There is a beautiful river here.

Here is a quick summery of the days after the Ferry.

Said goodbye to all my motorcycle friends and Andrew who was my buddy on the boat.

Then off the Seattle. It was only 70 miles, so it took no time whatsoever. Missed the exit for Joel’s place, so I went out to the Harley dealer to see if my tire had come in. The Dunlop was a piece of crap. It was not going to make it home. No new tire.

Eastside Harley there, who had put on my tires before I left, was real excited when I returned. Actually, I had lied and told them I was going to NY, so they were surprised when I rolled in again. The managers of the dealership really got into the trip, and the fact that I’d gone up there on a Buell Blast. They took a video interview, and gave me a T-Shirt. That was cool, because I really needed a new shirt. Mine were pretty gross by then….maybe they smelled me and took pity? Ha!

In total though I was super embarrassed to be standing there at the dealer. There were some bad ass bikers there hanging out. And there I was in my Oshkosh-bigosh of motorcycle gears, sporting ‘my first helmet’ from HJC, and riding a bike that looked like it had just come from the war, completely … rigged up with crap. Yup. I was feeling pretty awesome. But I had nothing else to do. So I just hung out with my coffee and shot the … with the managers for a couple of hours:)

Next day (Saturday?) I rode down to Portland to try and get to the Museum of Stereo Art and Photography. But it was raining buckets and it took me most of the day to get 100 miles past the storm. Bummer.

This marked the first interstate riding I’d done the entire trip. It was really fatiguing! I could only go about 30-60 minutes before I had to pull off and rest. Going 70-80 mph is a whole ‘nother ball of wax! Most of the trip so far has been sub 60 mph.

Stayed at a hostel. Went to the Bluemoon Bar for dinner and a beer. Had an awesome Black IPA. I swear it was real. And it was awesome! Looked like you were drinking a Guinness, but it was a super bitter and light IPA. I could see why people like beer after drinking that.

Many people suggested Portland to be a cool city to check out. But when I got all packed up…and the bike was checked out and I was all geared up…and the sun was soo nice and the weather is just the way I like it, no wind and a little bit chilly…..well, [forget] Portland, let’s go for a ride! Booahahaha. Motorcycles are way more fun than stuffy old cities!

Tuesday, after getting my new tire on (Pirelli MT75 for those of you who would be interested:) it was back on the road! East!

Route 2 goes across the entire United States, practically, so I took that one. Less thinking. At the best rest area ever (free brownies and coffee) another motorcyclist suggested that I take Route 20 over to Glacier [National Park] as a detour. Haven’t been steered wrong by a biker yet, so I took the road. Beautiful. Then 97 north was closed, but another biker at a gas station had warned me already, so I knew to take 97alt. Apparently a bridge was out….tractor trailer in the river….eh. No idea.

And so it went on like that till arriving at Glacier National Park. Pretty roads, no plan, rode till I got tired and found some place to camp and crash for the night. Food is pretty readily available down here in the lower 48 also, so it’s been easy to cook for myself.

I get approached by older dudes a lot. Sometimes couples, also. Well, first off, I’ve only seen two other younger guys (under 40ish) riding around, and that was in Canada. The older dudes are all so excited about the trip! They talk about their bikes they had when they were ‘kids’. They talk about the bikes they didn’t have for one reason or another:( Many who are retired complain that they waited. How they wish they had done what I was doing when they were younger and stronger and full of energy! Apparently the median age of people who vacation to Alaska, is 65. Whoa.

Oh one last thing. Pulled into this city park one evening because I was exhausted. Turned out to be a real red neck kind of place. My people:) But I came back to my tent to find some literature placed in front of the entrance flap. In bold letters it read: "Jesus would have been a biker." On the inside was filler with analogies between motorcycles and why Jesus died for our sins. I should have kept it, but I didn’t want to egg on who ever left it. So I clearly and plainly threw it away. I wanted to get up and out early the next day:)