Colorado

I didn’t get a great night’s sleep camping on the cliff’s ledge. It wasn’t fear of falling over the edge. It wasn’t the thought of being alone amongst the wild animals. It was concern about humans. Although I was alone miles down this dirt road on a Tuesday night, there was plenty of evidence that this was a local hangout. There was garbage around. And there was graffiti depicting the initials of what I assumed might be a local gang. In NYC I am used to the Crips, Bloods, Latin Kings, Nietas, Zulus and of course Hells Angels. But out here I was unfamiliar with who might consider this their territory. It was one way in and out on a dirt road with a harsh washboard surface, so if there was trouble there would be no running from it. I would have to confront it. I figured I was safe on this weekday night and would remain alone. Then I heard vehicles. Three sets of headlights were headed my way in the darkness of night. I was truly out of my element here. As the 3 trucks stopped at the edge of the cliff I listened intently. Much to my relief I could hear the sounds of men and women laughing and having a good time. In my fantasy this was a danger zone. In reality it was a romantic spot to hang out with your loved ones. I fell asleep. Later I awoke to the sounds of the trucks pulling away. All was well. I am a silly man.

The next morning I woke up, stepped out of my tent and saw a large hawk sitting atop a small tree. All the trees here are small. Then I looked over the edge and saw a coyote coming toward me. As soon as he saw me at the edge he quickly did an about face and disappeared. Unless your camera is set and ready, chances are you will miss shots of much of the wildlife out here. I packed up my bags and hit the dirt road. I did not notice the odometer in the photo until later. 55,555 miles on the money. I was just taking a photo to show the dirt road. Nice! I had consciously thought about taking this picture, then did it unbeknownst to myself.

I road through a small town called Chimayo. It seems like a population mostly comprised of Native American/Spanish folk with a focus on the local churches. I had been to this area around Taos once before. I like it here. My plan was to visit some cliff dwellings I missed previously called the Puye Cliff Dwellings. After speaking to a local dude in a parking lot, I changed my mind. He said that Puye is on a reservation and they charge at least $30 for a visit. He also told me there were many other cliff dwellings in the area that one could visit for free. Perhaps on another trip I can plan that out.

I am always amused at how folks use Jesus to promote things like agendas, politics or here Chile´.

This funky bug was at a gas station. When I tried to lift him he hissed at me like a cat. Freaked me out!

Having decided not to see the cliff dwellings I was headed north toward Colorado. Here in New Mexico the mountains still had a great deal of color in them.

Once you cross into Colorado the mountains become lush with trees and the rock is generally grey.

The roads here are a rider’s dream. If you look at the photo below you can see the road approaching the mountains from the valley, then it twists it’s way up switchbacking as you ascend.

There are many folks back home who consider me an angry man.  And maybe they’re right, but up here in the mountains I am calm and at peace. I love it here.

At times a switchback won’t do. They had to tunnel through to provide a road up here.

As is always the case, there will be some roadwork along the way. Often times it is a welcome relief to stop and have a little jerky or other snacks while you wait for the one way traffic. The smells however clash heavily with the serene environment. PU.

Many of the roads travel along rivers that have spent the last million years cutting their way through the mountains. Those same rivers have also provided me with a place to bathe over the years. This was Route 149.

I connected with Route 50 and was headed for the very twisty Route 92.

At the foot of Route 92 is a dam that creates the body of water you see above. On the other side is the beautiful Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. I was psyched to ride this road. I started zipping along, when suddenly I had to slam the brakes.  A huge 10 point buck had jumped into the road before me. He then did an about face and ran back up the slope to my right. By the time I grabbed my camera all I could get was his horns over the horizon line. What a thrill. Earlier in the day I had already barely missed hitting a chipmunk, a rabbit and a coyote. Crazy, wonderful day!

Here is a close up from the same shot. Big Buck!

The canyon was gorgeous and the road a lot of fun to ride on. At this overlook I met another rider named Roger. Roger was from the coast of South Carolina, but was hanging in Colorado for the month. We rode together for a bit after this.

Roger was a more experienced and I have to admit better rider than me. We took turns taking the lead. I watched him handle those crazy turns like a champ. I ain’t bad, but I could tell he was better.

See that smiling man in the photo. That would be his last. Circumstances back home have forced me to abort this wondrous adventure. I crashed in an old hotel called the Hitching Post in a small town called Crawford.

The next morning I awoke to rain pouring down. It’s just as well, I was headed toward the Interstate. There was nothing more too see. Nothing more to photograph. My only view from here on in would be the pavement lined with cops pulling people over and the parades of joyous bikers headed in the opposite direction toward Sturgis. Each acknowledged wave from my fellow bikers felt like a slap in the face as I plowed through my 500 plus miles each day headed east. With every stop I make people ask, “You going to Sturgis?” I’d just smile through the pain and say “I can’t make it this year”.

Sorry for the anti-climactic ending, but sometimes that’s how it goes. I rode over 2000 miles in 4 days. My hands and body were buzzing for days. Now I am home. That’s all folks!

Kansas to New Mexico

A hotel room (for a change) allows me to catch up a bit.

When I left off Danny from Meade, Kansas had shown me a place to camp for free. It was an open field located behind a fishing hatchery with a few trees for strategic positioning. I got out my compass and chose a spot that would provide me with morning shade. Then I set up my tent and rigged the tarps for some extra shielded real estate.

In the morning I returned to the Dalton Gang Hideout that was closed when I arrived the day before. The Dalton Gang began their careers as U.S. Marshals before turning to crime robbing trains. This hideout was actually their sister Eva’s home. A tunnel was dug from the house to the stables where they could make their escape. Of course this only worked a couple times but a place of history nonetheless.

Visiting the location and adjacent museum of artifacts is interesting in itself, but the price of admission is truly made worthwhile if you chat it up with the curator Marc. He is a colorful, knowledgeable character who could easily blend in to any Western film. He has that cowboy look with a gold pendant of the Free Masons dangling off a chain from a watch pocket. We talked for a while about the Dalton’s, but then I noticed a framed picture of the cast from the movie Tombstone. That began a whole other topic, The Western film. We both like Tombstone a great deal. But he knew a great deal more, right down to the the very first Western and very first movie in general, “The Great Train Robbery”. Last year I was teaching my students the history of film and we researched and watched it. As a disclaimer, Marc also explained that the tunnel (as pictured below) was actually a dirt tunnel supported by wood at the time of the Dalton’s. It was later supported with stone.

From Meade, Kansas I was going to head into Colorado. Things looked daunting ahead so I checked my Doppler radar. Sure enough, if I continued down my planned path I was destined for a heavy dousing of rain so I turned south. I headed toward New Mexico via Oklahoma. While passing through Oklahoma I rolled through Boise City. For the common traveler there is absolutely no reason to stop here. However, I am attracted to the desolate, once inhabited environments.

The road I would have taken to Colorado would have passed through that downpour you see in the background. And that was only one in a long series of hazardous rainstorms.

I have to be honest. As I often do, I was hamming it up for the photo. Usually I look like the fella in the photo below. The greatest challenge to touring as I do is mastering techniques to battle the natural elements. Sun and water are the greatest ongoing battle. Last year while passing through Moab, Utah I bought this fabric tube. I never really got to test it back then because I was riding east after the purchase where the sun spends most of it’s time on my back. This year I was able to test it against the Western sun. Mission accomplished. It is the first time I made it this far without looking like a raccoon from the goggles.

I passed into New Mexico. The sun was going down and I still had many miles to go before finding a place to camp for the night, but I couldn’t help stopping to take a shot of this place glowing from the low sun.

It was a scary ride to get to the campsite. Dusk is when the critters are most unpredictable. I passed a number of antelope (pronghorns) along the way and the bugs were bugging out right at that height which plasters your vision with debris and smacks your face harder than rain. But I finally made to the campsite for my first night in the Rockies. To be in the mountains after spending days with a flat horizon line is heavenly. It brings a euphoric peace to me. I love it here. At night I become mesmerized by night sky. Last year I began to figure out how to capture them in a photo. One of my challenges for this year was to master that skill. I hoped to have many opportunities.

When I arrived at that campsite, I met a nice family. A couple of teachers from Texas, Shannon and Scott was with their two daughters and visiting father from Taos. They were very kind and provided me with a few logs for my fire. It was that fire that lit my bike in the photo from my previous post. I tried lining up my tent to be shaded with that single tree when that sun peaked over the mountain. A little more to the left would have been nice.

Alan, the father from Taos rode this 89 Honda Translap. I wasn’t familiar with this bike. It’s a nice machine. Unfortunately Alan says finding parts is near impossible. If anybody out there knows of a place to find parts for this baby, please leave a comment.

In the morning I wanted to check out Fort Union, but to get there I took the scenic way deeper into the Rockies.

There are a number of alpaca ranches in the Rocky Mountains. This one was bountiful with freshly shaven alpaca.

Along the small twisty highways one passes a few forgotten wonders.

Then it was on to Fort Union. There was never an actual battle at Fort Union, but it played a pivotal role in the shaping of this country. The continued expansion westward by white settlers and atrocities by the military created a great deal of conflict for the natives. Naturally there was retaliation. As a result, Fort Union was established to protect settlers traveling along the Santa Fe Trail.

The fort continued it’s purpose as a defensive post against a Confederate invasion during the South’s succession. Texas was moving north but with the help of Colorado’s brigade they were driven back before getting to the fort.

After the Civil War Fort Union became a supply hub for the settlers and other forts in the vast area. Eventually the railroad came and that purpose became less necessary. I got all this info from the Park Ranger at the reception desk. She, like Marc at the Dalton joint knew her stuff and was easy to talk to.

I came across this can top while roaming around. After having a look I placed it back where I found it.

Though the foundations of the fort are original, National Parks Service continually layer the adobe exterior to protect it from natural erosion.

Fort Union also had the most state of the art hospital in the entire country. Here are the remnants of the hospital below.

Next I went to Pecos National Monument. Pecos, like Abo and Quarai that I visited a few years ago was a place where Native Americans lived with Spanish missionaries. In the background behind the pueblo ruins you can see the remains of the Spanish Mission.

There was a recreation of a native kiva. I would love to have some land and build one of my own one day.

Here is what’s left of the Spanish Mission.

From Pecos I was headed north toward Colorado.

I wasn’t going to make Colorado before nightfallI. I found out about a campsite off route 503. I  had to continue. I didn’t know however that this campsite was at the end of a long dirt road. The sun was going down so I had no choice. After conquering my apprehensions I was rewarded with a place to pitch my tent along a cliff overlooking this lake. Being so remote in a place I was unfamiliar with was a bit unnerving, but that is all part of the fun. Tomorrow, Colorado!

Western Stars

The stars out here are magnificent! I will miss them when I am back in NYC where the skies are obscured by the city lights. The shooting stars right now are remarkable. They are frequently criss-crossing the sky like a hockey puck in a Stanley Cup Finals.  Just fantastic!

I have had very little time to update the posts here. I have been off the grid camping and have been lucky to keep my phone charged. So I leave you with this shot.

If you want to check out a great adventure that has been updated regularly, check out Trevor’s blog. He has the passion for adventure and the support to keep him going. Good stuff Trevor. Cheers!

Tennessee to Kansas

When I left off I was deep in the Tennessee mountains. The roads out here are a lot of fun to ride on. Twisty rolling highways zig zag across the country slowly bringing me west. Many of the roads are carved through the limestone mountains. In the photo below a giant overhang creates a nice cool shelter.

For my girlfriend Jillian. There was another rock that said Jesus in front, but I moved it for the photo. Sorry Jesus.

I saw what looked like a cave. I went in to investigate.

I assume it’s a limestone quarry dug into the mountain.

There seemed to be a labrynth of tunnels within. I didn’t have my flashlight with me so I could only explore the parts where the daylight shined through.

  

As usual on these old highways there are a lot of places long out of business.

This old house was beautiful set back of the highway.

I got a little lost after breakfast, but found my way to a town called Red Boiling Springs. There I came across an great little motorcycle museum.

It’s called the Cyclemos Motorcycle Museum. Let’s go inside and have a look.

The guys running the place were super friendly. They invited me into the shop where they were working on this magnificent 1941 Harley Davidson Knucklehead. Like many of the bikes in the museum this bike belongs to Mike Wolf from American Pickers.

Mike (the mechanic) was taking this baby apart and keeping all the dirt and grease in some coffee cans because Mike Wolf like the dirt put back on when it is running again.

There is a yet unsolved mystery with this bike. There are these little lights on the solid front wheel. It is still an unsolved mystery as to how these little lights are powered. Mike told me to keep in touch through facebook to find out the mystery of the lights..

This town also has some really old hotels from days gone by.

I was in need of a new rear tire. I called the guys at the Triumph dealer in Madison, TN and they said they would squeeze me in the next day. Madison is just north of Nashville. So I booked a room for the night in Nashville. My hotel had a guitar shaped swimming pool.

In Nashville they have a recreation of the Parthenon from Athens, Greece. When I arrived they were filming some kind of country video for a girl named Julliete.

The main strip in Nashville reminded me a bit of Bourbon Street in New Orleans.

The street is lined with bars pumping out live music and people partying.

The next morning I was off the Castle Powersports where they hooked me up promptly with a new rear tire. The folks here were friendly and courteous. If you need help in the area give these guys a call.

It’s always strange to see someone else riding my Bonnie.

I was going to go north through the Land Between the Lakes and into Kentucky, but first I had a look at old Fort Donelson. Here you see old canons set up to take on the old ironclad vessels of the river during the Civil War.

An old furnace in the Land Between the Lakes.

Rain came down so I wasn’t able to take any photos of my Mississippi River crossing. Too bad, it was a beautiful bridge. I thought it would rain into the night, but much to my amazement the storm split and cleared right before me.

I camped out in this swampy wilderness.

I always like those old one movie theaters you find in small towns. Many have been converted for other uses but keep the facade intact.

I was on old Route 66 for a minute in Missouri.

I asked a local where I could camp in the area. I was lost for over an hour on dirt and gravel roads before finding my way.

I finally found the campsite and chose a spot on the lake. That night it stormed. I was scared. I was in Kansas now and read on the weather app that north of me were 50 mile an hour winds and hail. They were warned to prepare to seek shelter. Fortunately by the time the storm got to me it had died down a bit. But still, everything got soaked.

A couple years ago I passed by the home of Laura Ingels who wrote “Little House on the Prarie”. Here in Kansas I came upon that Prarie where they had built a replica of the Ingel’s home.

Replicas are always a little disappointing, but it is the actual location of the old home. I was equally interested in the surroundings like this cicada and the softball sized walnuts.

Sometimes on the road you meet some real friendly people. Sometime you meet an ass.

I also like the old service stations. Like the old theaters many now serve other purposes.

After many a twisty road, Kansas offers a straight shot west.

I stopped by Meade, KS to see the Dalton Gang hideout. It was closed when I got there. As it was getting late and there was a storm ahead I figured I would stay in Meade.

I stopped by a fleabag motel to ask how much a room was. While there I see a guy pull up on a Bonneville. When I stepped outside to say hi. He said we had met before. Really?? He said last year we talked for a while in Greensburg KS. Wow! This guy Danny lived in Meade. How strange to bump into him. Danny told me of a place I could camp for free in Meade and said he would be happy to show me. I grabbed a bite to eat and headed to his place. Below is his 2003 Bonnie.

In Danny’s garage was a beautiful 1966 Chevelle he is working on and a 1978 Yamaha with only 5000 miles on it.

Danny rode me out to the location of free camping near a lake about 15 mile outside of town.

Thank you Danny. I had a great night’s sleep and now it’s time to head west.

To the Mountains!

It was good spending that extra evening with my brother. We don’t get to hang too often. There is a fire station near my brother’s house that has artifacts from the World Trade Center and the Pentagon from 9/11. Coming from a rip in this giant Trade Center “I”  beam is the decaying head of a bird. It looks like it may have actually lodged itself there, but I did not investigate further to see if the rest of the bird is dangling within.

I like that my brother keeps an American flag hanging from the tree in his front yard.

My bro put the trash and recyclables out to the curb for the morning pick up. I went out to toss an empty bottle out and noticed a spider had already created this masterful cob web. Incredible!

In the morning I was headed to Skyline Drive. 2 hawks flying overhead assured me it was going to be a good day. I had seen this old mill from the road on the way to the mountains once before. This time I figured out how to get there. Beverley Mill is a massive stone structure (believed to be the biggest stone build building in the states) and was built in 1742. The Confederate Army burned it during the Civil War but it was soon restored and remained a functional mill until the 1950’s. It then stood proudly intact until 1998 when it was gutted by fire. I parked Bonnie and walked down some railroad tracks to get to the mill.

I believe all the floors were still standing and the windows intact before the fire. Now just a shell remains being held together by a metal framework.

On the other side of the tracks a bit deeper in the woods I found the remains of some other structure which I assume dates back to the same time period as the mill.

Front Royal, Virginia is the last town before getting onto Skyline drive. Next to the gas station where I was fueling up was an old diner turned car dealer turned abandoned diner. A fresh rain had just dropped. This leads me to mention a new piece of equipment. Gaiters!  Not the kind one finds in the Everglades. Gaiters are a clothing item that cover the space from the boot to just below the knee. They are perfect for times like this when it has just rained. Keeps those pant legs bone dry and no water can drip down into the boot.

At some points you are above the cloud line or sometimes actually in a cloud.

I camped out on Loft Mountain. I stayed here last year as well. I nearly stepped on this guy later in the evening.

A full moon set the ambiance for my first night out under the night skies.

The next day I continued down the drive. It eventually changes from Skyline Drive to the Blue Ridge Parkway without interruption.

I came upon this bizarre orgy of butterflies. They seemed attracted to some charcoal someone had dumped by Otter Creek.

I pulled of at Meadows of Dan and stayed the night at Willville. Willville is a great biker only campground. I highly recommend staying here if you are riding the Parkway.

Will (of Willville) recommended I take Route 58 West. It did not disappoint. Not only did it present some of the Americana decay that I like, it had some real twisty bits as well.

On to Tennessee. This giant guitar was just across the highway from the visitor center as you enter the state.

There isn’t really a straight shot across the northern part of Tennessee. It may be because of that water you see down below. That and the mountainous terrain cause roads to zig zag across the state as you head west.

  

Tonight I headed deep into the mountains for another night of camping.

This was bear country. I saw a fox run across the road, but the only critter to visit me this night was a toad. Ribbit.

On the Road? Could it Be? Yes!

Well hello! It has been a while. I know, What can I say?…I’ve been busy.

As you may have seen in my last couple of posts (and you may suppose from my absence), I have been spending a lot of time with Jillian. An extended trip seemed unlikely for a variety of reasons. But in the end, both Jillian and I knew I had to ride. So I parted ways with my lovely rock n roll lady and hit the road.

Maybe Jill can join us somewhere down the road apiece.

In my last post I shared Jesse’s blog with you and now I share another. A guy named Trevor from Scotland shipped his bike over to the states for a three month adventure! He is well on his way, attempting to traverse the crusty remains of Route 66. Have a look and wish him well, http://ridingamericana.wordpress.com.

And so today began my trip. My trip to “who knows where?” I’ll hop on the Blue Ridge Parkway and see where that takes me.

I packed my bags, but hadn’t ridden in weeks. It’s likely the longest break from riding I’ve taken since I started riding. Once all the gear was fully packed, I went to pay my garage and check on the bike. Paid the bill and figured I’d start Bonnie up just to make sure she was ready. Turned the key and VROOOOOOM! It was time.

I ran a couple errands then back to the bike. I rode her to my apartment and parked her outside. Then I ran upstairs eager to get my gear. I loaded it all from the apartment to the elevator and into the lobby. Not an easy task. Then I went to put Bonnie directly in front of my building. I turned the key and CLICK. Noooooooooooo! Again. CLICK.

Ater some initial freaking out I went back to my garage where they had a portable machine made for just such emergencies. With the cables connected to the battery Bonnie started right up. I loaded the bike with my gear, dropped off the charger and got the hell out of a nasty urban heatwave that repulsed all senses. You can see the battery charger strapped on for it’s return to the garage in the photo below.

I had to move fast. The doppler showed a major storm headed east. If I didn’t get ahead of it I was going to get slammed. I headed down to Maryland on a no nonsense I95 ride to visit my brother. I used to live in Maryland too. When my parents split I moved down here with my dad and finished my last 2 1/2 years of high school at High Point High. I could ramble on about this place and the many adventures with local inhabitants, but lets keep rolling.

Finally as stormy weather approached I reached my brother’s house.

My bro was still at work, but I received a warm welcome from his dog Yellow.

Yellow anxiously awaits my brother’s return.

My brother got home and we stayed up late. My original plan was to get up and go the next day. A late start and rain in the mountains today has delayed my start and besides Bonnie needed a good washing.

So folks the adventure continues. I hope to share some good stories and photos along the way with my fresh, shiny ride.

Inspiration

I am humbled and flattered to have inspired another two wheeled adventure. While I was checking out some links from people who have commented on my site I discovered this…

http://twowheelin.wordpress.com/2013/01/18/it-all-started-when/.

It’s a blog this guy Jesse started in January about a mission to get a bike and go! The humbling and flattering part come from his first post back in January where he states that his inspiration came from reading my blog. And coincidentally he chose to begin this adventure on my birthday. Yay! Happy Birthday to me! And all the best to Jesse!

Jesse is now on day 3 of his first cross country adventure. Check in with him and wish him well!

Meanwhile, I took Jillian on our first ride out of the city this past Sunday.

We headed up to Suffern, NY to check out some old cars and scenery in the surrounding area.

In Suffern was a car show and street fair. There were some real beauties lined up on the street. Above is a 1950 Studebaker and below a mint 65 GTO.

Got a little freaky in the chrome mustang.

The event was advertised as a Vintage Car, Truck and Motorcycle show.

This 68 Honda was the only vintage bike there.

I think this Corvette is a ’56. Magnificent!

I like these new Guzzi’s.

After the show in Suffern we headed toward Bear Mountain. We rode up Seven Lakes Drive.

I have written about Seven Lakes Drive in the past. It is a pleasant, easy ride with plenty of nice spots to stop and take in the views. That goose was swimming around when we arrived at this campsite. Then he got curious and snooped all around us.

There were some people at this campsite setting up tents. We thought nothing of riding in and having a look, but when we went to leave someone had locked us in with a cable and padlock. Fortunately I was able to squeeze between some boulders. Barely. I mean I had to lift my legs and put the foot pegs up in order to get by. But I made it out and we headed back to the city.

Spring Ride to Red Hook

It’s been a prolonged chilly Spring in New York City. I took a ride around town with Jillian on Saturday. We headed into the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel and over to Red Hook. The tunnel was fun. It’s the longest of the exiting arteries leaving Manhattan and there was no one ahead of me. It’s darker than most tunnels giving it a trippy, telescopic, batcave effect as we zipped through to Brooklyn.

The effects from Hurricane Sandy are still noticeable here in Red Hook.

The rust is not from storm damage. These old trolleys looked pretty much as they did before the storm. The difference being that you can’t get close to them.

There is a big Fairway grocery store in the warehouse behind the trolleys, but the path along the water has been fenced off since the storm.

The shops and studios perpendicular to the Fairway now have a guarded entrance. I hear these studios were flooded and many artists lost their artwork. But it still makes a nice backdrop for my biker girl.

This sculpture of trees made of recycled bits stand at the end of the row of studios.

Though I have never taken it, the New York Water Taxi is a convenient way to travel between the boroughs and New Jersey.

Here you see the new Liberty tower as it nears completion with the Empire State Building dwarfed in the background next to the warehouse.

We had to pull over and snap a few shots when we saw this mint Ford Galaxie.

The facade of this building in the Caroll Gardens section of Brooklyn is speckled with a mosaic celebrating life.

We crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and headed to Chinatown to pick up some seafood. We did not purchase the monster above.

Another classic Ford caused us to stop in our tracks as we weaved through Little Italy.

This 1964 Ford Falcon was magnificent. And as someone who collects dice, I appreciated the accoutrements.

Then Bonnie finally brought us back home to taste our Chinatown purchase. Shrimp and fish tacos. Yummy!

5 Years

This week marked the 5th anniversary riding the Triumph Bonneville. Now the winter has passed and a new season of great riding weather begins. That’s me below with my second Bonnie on the anniversary date last week. The first one (’07) was stolen on Memorial Day in 2009. It was quickly replaced with this ’09 model in June. She is still riding great with over 52,000 miles on her. When the ’07 was stolen it had just under 18,000 miles on it. Do the math. 5 years…70,000 glorious miles.

Recently however not a whole lot of miles have been tipping over on that odometer. It’s been cold and I’ve been busy. First a trip with my girl to Paris kept me busy. Paris is awesome. We saw a few fine machines around town.

This mean looking BMW was parked on the sidewalk.

This BMW was one of many motorcycles and scooters parked on the streets of Monmartre. You have to give credit to those who ride in Paris. Rush hour is wild. Cutting lanes in Cali is kids play compared to the moves you will see in this city.

I’m not sure what bike this is. It’s got Bonnie style.

The Eiffel Tower adds an orange glow to the headlight of this old Vespa.

We saw this Thruxton on the way to the D’Orsay Museum. It had some nice extras. I was really eyeballing those side mirrors, but after some recent tight spots in NYC I think I’ll keep my mirrors between the bars.

When we returned from Paris we had an opportunity for a ride about town.

We rode over to one of the few undeveloped spots along the East River. It won’t be undeveloped for long. What a view!

Calvary Cemetery in Queens is a serene spot with an unusual view of the city.

On to Brooklyn we had a look at some vintage bikes.

Then to Williamsburg for some fish tacos and delicious drinks at the Surf Bar.

Ended the ride with a sunset in Manhattan.

Then Bonnie sat idle again as we went to Florida. In Florida the only riding I did was on this baby below at the local Goodwill.

Instead of a bike we opted for this little Smartcar.

That little sucker is fun to drive. It’s like sitting in an 80MPH amusement park ride.

Back in NYC! The weather is showing signs of warming up. It’s time to get Bonnie inspected and registered. Jillian and I rode up to Cycle Therapy for an inspection. While waiting we checked out some of their bikes upstairs.

Bonnie passed inspection. We rode back downtown during rush hour. I pushed it. It got a little crazy at times. On my back was my girl. Cool, without worry. She said if it gets too scary, she’ll just close her eyes and hold on tight. Nice.

I sign out with some random shots from around town.

I don’t usually include scooters here, but this Vespa with a sidecar is hardcore.

Year of the Snake

I rode down to Chinatown today to get my favorite soup. Bo Ky makes a yummy coconut curry chicken noodle soup. The food here is excellent. It’s one of those restaurants in Chinatown where most of the customers are Chinese. Always a good sign.

Speaking of good signs…the year of the snake is my Chinese zodiac sign.

Happy New Year!