The Blackout and Beyond

This is the longest break I have taken from the blog since it’s beginning. There are a number of reasons which I will get into, but let’s start off by saying all is well. Some motorcycle blogs have ended abruptly for terrible reasons. Know that this is not the case here.

My last post was just before Hurricane Sandy. Then…lights out! Total darkness fell on downtown Manhattan. Riding through the city streets at night during the blackout was haunting and surreal. Silent blackness lined the streets with only a single headlight to guide my way. Understand this is New York City! Generally these streets are overflowing with 24 hours of blaring mayhem. Now shhhhhhh. Nothing. No one. Excellent!

My garage weathered the storm better than some others I know of. It’s in the basement of a building, but I am on the high ground.

I rode downtown to see how my mom was doing. I didn’t find her (she was fine), but I did pass this building on 8th Avenue. The entire facade was blown off. There is an article in the Daily News today stating that this building was being used as an illegal hotel.

With the nearby hospitals out of power people had to be transferred. Ambulances lined up around the block to take people away.

Looking down Park Avenue from 34th Street only the local traffic lit up the streets. Below is a taxi approaching the entrance to a tunnel on Park Avenue.

A motorcycle exits the tunnel at 39th Street where people were nearly unaffected by the hurricane. North of 39th Street no one lost electricity.

Fortunately my summer adventures prepared me for living without my normal conveniences that electricity provides. All my camping gear served me well. Below: looking east on 34th Street.

The Empire State Building had it’s own power source and stayed lit throughout the surrounding darkness.

In the foreground looking north you can see the row of buildings darkened by the blackout with uptown illuminated like a rising sun on the horizon.

The top of a water tower blew off a rooftop knocking this Ninja to the ground.

Across the street from my apartment a wall blew down exposing someone’s private storage facility.

During the blackout downtown folks would cross the 39 Street parallel to plug in to outlets I would never have known existed previously. Large groups would congregate around, sharing extension cords and power strips to keep their precious electronic devices charged up.

Belstaff has opened a store on Madison Avenue. For the holidays their mannequins sported illuminated helmets.

Sadly my Nana passed away soon after Hurricane Sandy. I headed to New Orleans for the funeral. In the airport some M&M’s were set up like Easy Rider. If you follow this blog you have met Nana before. My brother and I visited her on our way to ride the Tail of the Dragon and I visited her again in the Summer of 2011. Nana was a lovely woman of 99 years when she passed. She spent her entire life in New Orleans until Hurricane Katrina sent her packing. She and my Aunt moved to South Carolina for her remaining years. Now Nana rests next to Papa back in New Orleans under an old oak tree for eternity. Love ya Nana and Papa!

In January the International Motorcycle Show came to town for it’s annual visit.

The cold weather of the Northeast coast is not the only reason for the blog’s absence and why Bonnie has been kept in the garage most of this winter.  Don’t tell Bonnie, but there is a new girl I have been spending my time with. Say hello to Jillian. Below she happily gives the “New York Salute” to the recent speed record holder Jason DiSalvo on a Triumph Rocket III.

There have been a few good riding days for me and Bonnie, but mostly to and from work. And I must say after 52,000 miles of hard riding Bonnie is doing great. She is performing like a true champion!

I can’t say the show was exceptional this year, but it is always nice to see the new innovations from the various manufacturers. I did get a new pair of gloves. After ripping through my second pair of Steve Held gloves I opted for a pair of Lee Parks. I haven’t tested them in extreme conditions yet, but they sure are comfortable. And Jillian got me the cool hat as seen in the photo above.

Below are a pair of Hayabusas being offered in a sweepstakes by the AMA. 1340 cc’s may be a bit much for me, but I threw my name in the drawing just the same.

I always appreciate the Indian Larry bikes. It is ashame Larry is not with us anymore. Indian Larry motorcycles however continue to roll out of their garage in Brooklyn.

I saw this bobbed out Bonnie at the Buffalo Chip in Sturgis this summer. At the Chip you couldn’t sit on it. Here you could.

I rode downtown to meet Jillian. It was the first time I took her for a ride on Bonnie. They seemed to get along quite well. I asked her if she wanted me to take it easy. She told me to ride like I normally ride. So I rode to the left of a long line of traffic and we were on our way. Smooth sailing.

I leave you with various bikes of interest I have seen around the city. Take care folks. Hope the weather is kind.

Calm Before the Storm

As I did some last minute shopping before Hurricane Sandy makes her presence known, I realized the city was calm. Very calm. I figured I could take a little city ride and actually enjoy it. I hadn’t ridden much this week because I got freaked out last week. It was one of those situations every biker has to deal with. A guy in the left lane jumped into the right lane where I happened to be. I quickly counter steered and leaned my bike to the right. By the time the guy saw me, he was able to slam on his brakes just slightly bumping into my front forks. I kept the bike upright. I told the guy to pull over. But he took off! I snapped!!! I took off after him. Riding along side of him down Northern Boulevard in Queens, I yelled at him to pull over. He refused. Northern Boulevard is normally a hairy ride on a normal day and now I am enraged.  This dangerous Queens road was made even more dangerous as I began throwing side kicks connecting with the passenger door of his car. I ended up getting ahead of him and cutting him off. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was losing it! He rolled down his window and kept repeating, “Sorry, I didn’t see you!” I realized at that point that I was a basically a madman! I just yelled, ” If the guy in front of you stops, you stop. You don’t jump in the other lane without looking! Understand?!!” That was it. I hopped back on my bike and furiously rode away. Afterward I was left frazzled. I lost my cool. Not good. As I result I haven’t been enthusiastic about riding in the city. But today when I saw how calm the streets were. I hopped on Bonnie and took a leisurely ride around the city. It was nice!

I came across this old Bonnie and stopped for a photo. A little then and now for ya!

I continued riding around. I stopped for a shot by my old elementary schoolyard.

I could feel the winds picking up and I knew rain was on it’s way, so I took the bike back to the garage to weather the storm. I hope everybody avoids pending damage. Bring it on!

Coast to Coast 2012 : B Sides and Outtakes

Howdy Folks!

Well, it was another tremendous adventure across the nation. I am still adjusting to life back in the city. My heart and soul yearns for the night’s vast canvas of flickering skies and days spent on the open roads. But a guy has to make a living.

Below is a map depicting all 5 of my cross country journeys followed by many photos I didn’t have time to go through as I rode along this summer. I have created a page on the sidebar depicting the trip in chronological order with the new photos included (or you can click the link below the map to get there). Thanks for coming along with me on this glimpse into my great adventure and enjoy making the most of yours!

CLICK HERE to see the 2012 Coast to Coast journey in chronological order.

The B Sides

I stopped by my mom’s place on the way out of town. That window with the tape on it was my bedroom growing up.

Along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Spiderman and Ice Age brings us back to 2002. I hope the Lincoln Theater makes a comeback.

Norton Commando in Arkansas.

Carrie Nation’s Home, Medicine Lodge, KS.

Pike’s Peak, CO.

Sometimes you have to stop for construction. To be able to take a break, stretch the legs and maybe talk to some fellow travelers is often welcome relief after many miles of travel. This couple ahead were from Canada.

Arches National Park.

Goblin State Park, UT.

Hovenweep National Monument.

Los Angeles, CA.

Back in Colorado, I had a Rocky Mountain fun night under the stars playing with some lighting effects.

Sturgis, SD.

Theodore Roosevelt National Park, ND.

Gear 2012

People have inquired and I’ve always meant to do it , so let’s break down my gear.  Here is the bike fully loaded. When I returned home, I took everything out and documented it.

Accessories from left to right:

1) Tank Bag by Bags Connection

2) Camelback Water Pack

(wraps around the tank bag so I can drink while I ride)

3) Sea to Summit Waterproof Bag

4) Camouflage Tarp

(with contents folded within)

5) Tent Back

(clips to Speedpack)

6) Speedpack by Bags Connection

7) Airhawk Inflatable Seat

Tank Bag

The tank bag has a easy to read clear map pocket. The uppermost pocket is where I keep my Canon S95 so I have quick and easy access to it.

Left Pocket

The read pouch contains some earphones

Dental floss 

Kickstand plate

Ear plugs

Toothbrush

Lighter

Flashlight

Lip balm

Anti itch medication (damn mosquitos)

Knife sharpener

Magnifying glass

Visine

Compass

Extra keys

Extra buckles

Right Pocket

Gorillapod

Reading glasses

Air pressure gauge

Pens and a highlighter

DEET bug spray

Knives

Lighters

Carabiner

Flashlights

Extra zipper pulls

Main Compartment

Canon 60D in a soft case and accessories

Assorted goggles

Bag of earplugs

ipod

iphone

Radio

Playing cards (got em free in Reno)

Towel

2 Masks

Baseball cap

Headlamp

Leatherman

Extra belt 1″

Soap

Earbuds

Suntan lotion

Brunton rechargable battery

Kleenex

Two extension cords

Two notebooks

Contents of the Sea to Summit bag:

iGo (AA charger)

Battery charger (S95)

Battery charger (60D)

Plug for laptop

FM transmitter (for ipod)

Transfer wire for cameras

Camelback Hydration Waist Pack

The Camelback can be seen if the photo with the tank bag. It holds 1.5 liters of water. In the extra pocket I keep my house keys, some AAA batteries and loose change.

Airhawk Inflatable Seat Cushion

It makes all the difference for the long ride.

Speedpack by Bags Connection

Attached to the bag you see a couple extra bungees, some of those giant paper clips which I use for hanging stuff or as a clamp and some loose feathers I found on the way.

Right Side Compartment

2 cans of soup

1 can of tuna

1 bag of almonds

1 of 2 Kitchen Sink bowls

Can of bug spray

Can of chain lube spray

4 bungees

1 waterproof see thru camera bag

Waterproof matches

1 small umbrella

A blue Sea to Summit bag that contains:

AA batteries

A small lantern

Swiss Army Knife

Exacto Tool

Go Pro Camera

Small shovel

1 headlamp

Clips

Left Side Compartment

Tool Kit

Extra gloves

Breakfast bars

Emergency blanket

Tube inflator

Biodegradable camp soap

2 of 2 Kitchen Sinks

A toothbrush for oiling chain

Battle of water from Triumph

Peanut butter and jelly packets

At any given time I would stuff either pocket with food or drink.

Main Compartment

5 that turned into 4 pair of socks

5 pair of underwear

2 pair of pants

2 short sleeve shirts

2 long sleeve shirts

A Pashima blanket

1 Camp towel

I large see to Summit Bag (in case)

2 Platypus water containers (a one liter and a four liter)

Pair of running shoes

Toiletries bag (contents are to each his own)

2 Road Atlases (small one for tearing out and placing on the tank bag)

Laptop Computer

Tomahawk

Hammock with straps

1 Cocoon sleeping bag

1 Cocoon pillow

1 sleeping bag

A water resistant bag containing the following:

Collapsable plate, saucer and cup.

My old Boy Scout fork, knife and spoon set

Camp stove

Propane

1 pot and saucer

I scrubby to clean with

Tent Bag

Eureka Backcountry tent

REI sleeping pad

Big Boy Saw

Tent spikes

Rope fasteners

2 plastic table cloths

(in a separate waterproof bag is a tripod)

Sea to Summit Waterproof Bag

I fleece jacket

1 fleece pants

I rain pants

1 rain jacket

Rubber kitchen gloves

Waterproof gloves with liners (Once your hands are damp, forget about it!)

Folded into the camouflage tarp

1 seat

1 small foldable cooler

1 plastic table cloth

Rain cover for tank bag

Washcloth

Towel and swim trunks when damp

Going East! OH, PA, NY, VT, NH and ME

Going East! Which direction was the question? In years past around this point, I would have said the trip was over. It would end with me riding a fairly straight line back to NYC. I was ready to to that again, but I stayed north to give myself options. I was tired. I decided I’d go to Erie, PA where I had been before. I figured I’d visit a place called the Quaker Steak & Lube where I dunked a girl in one of those baseball throwing booths back in 2008. I thought maybe this place could spark my desire to continue. I ended up missing the exit. I took this as a sign and felt I was ready to go home. I pulled off at the next exit and stopped for gas.

I got to talking to a couple guys at the gas station. These were cool seventies era guys. I knew it when we saw a car go by with fancy new style large mag wheels and one of the dudes said, “I’m still a Cragar man myself.” Cragar‘s, the classic 70’s hot rod mag wheel. I told them I had been riding on the Interstate all day and I was sick of it. One of the guys said, “Hey, you should take route 5. It goes all the way to Buffalo and it rolls through the wine country along the lake.” The other dude, jumped in, “Oh yeah man, that’s a nice road!” I said, “Thank you gentlemen, you may have just rejuvenated my journey.” That’s just what they did!

I followed their directions and was suddenly rolling through miles of vineyards with views of Lake Erie to my left as I moved east. It was just what I needed to stay motivated.

I felt renewed as I zipped along the vineyards of green and purple grapes. I am not sure what this 17th century ship recreation was for, but it looked cool.

I stopped at Lake Erie State Park. I was a bit weary of state parks after the $30 Michigan fiasco. When I entered, the booth to register was closed. They didn’t have a self registration kiosk either. So I went in to investigate the campsite anyway.

I was seeking a primitive site, but then noticed a place right on the edge of the cliffs overlooking the lake. This site had electricity. I decided I would pay the extra for the view. Plus, I could get everything charged up. Once I pulled in, I asked my neighbor campers if there was a camp host or someone I could speak to about the site I wanted. They said their site was paid for through tomorrow and they were leaving. They gave me their pass and said I could have it for free. Really? This was terrific! Thank you!

The sun setting on the lake was tremendous. I was very happy to feel like I could keep this adventure going when I was ready to pack it in only hours before.

A room with a view.

Those are the lights of the Canadian shore on the horizon.

Clouds rolled in adding another effect.

The beach below the campsite by day.

I saw a sign for a Frank Lloyd Wright house called Greycliff Estate. I went to have a look. The only building of his I had visited up to this point was the Guggenheim Museum in NYC. Greycliff Manor was pretty cool. They have been restoring it slowly for years now. It’s a work in progress. They don’t allow photos on the inside.

I went to Niagra Falls. This was one of those situations where I couldn’t comfortably linger because I fell uncomfortable leaving my bags open in such a populated area. But I still abandoned them to go have a look.

I came here once when I was a kid. Back then you could travel to Canada without a passport. The view from Canada is better due to the angle of the falls.

After the falls I continued my eastern path, but now I was riding along Lake Ontario and the vineyards had turned to orchards.

I stopped for the night at another NY State Park along Lake Ontario. My site wasn’t along the lake this time, but I ran over and caught the sunset just after the sun dropped.

That night I heard some scurrying about off in the dark and went to have a look where I found this little stinker.

From here I decided I was going further east and north. I was headed for Maine.

Seemed like people were living in this old church. In fact, I saw another church for sale along the way. Considering the population isn’t that great here, it does seem that there are a lot of churches.

This 1953 Ford tractor pulled up behind me at the gas station.

This Ford Econoline was for sale. I may call to inquire.

Because of the fire bans throughout many of the states I had been to, I hadn’t been able to cook a steak until now.

That night at the lake I think my camera picked up something that I couldn’t see with the naked eye. I do believe that green haze is aurora borealis! While I was taking some star shots I had a raccoon visit the campsite. He grabbed a bag with 3 peaches and ran off.

This is the Hudson River in the Adirondacks.

There was an old train sitting still on the tracks along the Hudson. I stopped to investigate.

This one rock has been enhanced with paint for a startling effect as you round the corner.

Fort Ticonderoga. I was going to visit, but they wanted $17.50. Considering the price and the time it would take, I skipped it.

A falls in the town of Ticonderoga.

I like when when states are separated by a bridge. It defines the crossing into a new environment.

In Vermont things looked noticeably different. Cleaner, more manicured.

Texas Falls, VT.

I crossed into New Hampshire and camped out in the White Mountains. I have no idea what these anomalies are in my photos.

Then I got a visitor. This sucker was bold. He would have taken the food from my hands.

I’d chase him off and he’d just hide behind a tree before making another advance. This guy was way too comfortable and relentless. He was down right rude. With the assistance of nice size pebble and a good arm I taught him some courtesy. He did not return.

In the morning I took a dip in the cold waters of the Pemigewasset River.

I noticed many different mushrooms in the woods.

This road seemed to be along the path for the annual monarch migration.

I made it into Maine. Soon I would be seeing the Atlantic Ocean completing the coast to coast journey.

My plan was to stay in Acadia National Park. When I arrived at the visitor center I heard what I expected to hear. Campsites full!

At first I was discouraged by the news of the park’s campsites being full, but then I arrived at the Bass Harbor Campground. It was a comfortable place.

They had many conveniences yet they separated the RV’s and such from the tent camping. So You have the solitude of camping under the stars in a private section with the conveniences of a pool, WIFI, laundry, a rec room, and a small store right across the road.

Also the staff is very friendly. They directed me to Sawyer’s Lobster Pound for my dinner.

I ordered my grub then went for a beer run. I got a local micro brew and returned for my feast. The lady inside said, “Pat, we have a problem”. “Lay it on me”, I said. She said she had run out of 1 1/2 pound lobsters, so she had to give me two 1 pounders instead. Yes!

Mount Desert Island was a great place to wind down from a long journey.

Acadia National Park is spread out across the island. It’s not just one big park. In fact it’s campsites are not “in” the park and they are not on the water either. I made the right choice with the private campsite.

I pulled over and explored a bit by foot.

A ride up Cadillac Mountain will give you a view of the entire island and it’s surroundings. This is the view of Bar Harbor.

This is my campsite aglow with a blazing fire.

I have really enjoyed the night sky this trip. Besides photographing it, I have gotten to know it better. Not the names that have been given to the stars, but I now have a better understanding of their placement in the sky and where I can expect them to be at different times of the night. I am able to get my sense of direction just by looking up now. I like that.

This peach tree and mushrooms are all on the campsite.

These berries were growing along the road at Seal Cove. Yum.

I saw these guys zipping around town earlier in the day. I did not notice the little guy in the front until I stopped to take a photo.

There is an auto museum at Seal Cove. The Bel Air is parked outside. It’s not really part of the museum.

The museum caters to the brass age of autos. The very early days of automobiles.

They had some bikes of the era as well.

Maine was serene and calming. I did not expect to spend three days here, but it was the perfect place to chill after another epic ride.

Maine’s soothing atmosphere also offered opportunity for self reflection.

When I woke up that third morning in Bass Harbor, I knew the journey was complete. I just had to make it back to NYC. I did it in one shot. Over 520 miles I rode. From Maine, through New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut I went, bringing me back home to New York City. In doing so I achieved another milestone in my motorcycle journey. I have now ridden in all of the lower 48 states.

I parked Bonnie, unloaded her and headed upstairs. Bonnie deserved some rest and I needed some. When I awoke the next day, I looked out my window and saw this. Bonnie sandwiched. Welcome home baby!

Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan

The feeling began in the Eastern part of North Dakota. It’s a feeling I get every year. A feeling of loss and let down. Pat, you are no longer in the west. That euphoria from the anticipation of exploring strange surroundings is gone and the melancholy sets in. The physical environment has changed dramatically and folks just seem less friendly. And there is a lot more folks. Also the scenery doesn’t change much. It’s a nice green color, but either in the form of forest or farm. Not much variety. And if it’s not green, chances are you are in a town. There’s a lot more of those as well.

I rode into Bemidji, Minnesota for 2 reasons. One was to see this silly Paul Bunyon and Babe sculpture.

Many towns that once thrived on the lumber industry have a Paul Bunyon reference. He represents all lumberjacks. There is a visitor center right next to this kitchy monstrosity. In there I would get the answer to my second reason for being here and directions on how to find it.

About 30 miles southwest of Bemidji is the birthplace of the Mississippi River. My birthplace is New Orleans, Louisiana where the Great Mississippi makes it’s final turns before emptying out into the Gulf of Mexico. It seemed only fitting that I would visit it’s origin. On the left in the photo is a sign that says Mississippi River, on the right is my Bonnie and the small crossing in the center is the first Mississippi River Bridge.

The river is a mere creek at this point and it is traveling northward. The Mississippi eventually curves eastward then down all the way south pretty much physically cutting this country in half.

As I continued east I passed this giant fish building. My guess is a pickerel. Maybe a Northern Pike as seen in a fish tank from the previous post at the hatchery.

I rode many miles. Storms were in the air. I decided to get a room this night just outside Duluth. In the town just before my hotel, I noticed some event going on. The girl at the hotel counter had no idea what it might be. She only knew of the big train engine expo that was to begin in a couple days. Despite the possibility of rain, I went back to investigate. On the way it was obvious that it was some sort of car show as numerous classic automobiles passed me on the way, trying to escape the impending storm. When I arrived there were still a few cars about. With older cars it’s in the details. It must have been pretty awesome earlier in the day.

In the morning I needed to make one stop before crossing into Wisconsin and then Michigan. I passed by the boyhood home of Bob Dylan at 519 North 3rd Avenue East in Duluth. A real nice woman came out with a guestbook and kindly took a couple shots of me at the location.

Across the bridge and into Wisconsin I went. Would you like to see some photos of Wisconsin? Google it. I flew threw that state quickly in protest with feelings of disgust. Fuck you Wisconsin. Treat your teachers with respect!

And on to Michigan. This was the northernmost part of Michigan, not the glove shaped part.

First it just felt good to be out of Wisconsin. But also, Michigan gave a different vibe. It’s the people. They are proudly a little kooky. They call themselves Yoopers. They are like Canadiens with American bravado.

That’s Lake Superior in the background.

The scowl I wore while wandering Wisconsin was withered when I whipped into a town called Christmas.

It’s hard not to feel happy when you are the corner of Christmas and St. Nicholas Avenues.

The road up here became arched with lush forest and twisty roads, making for an exciting tunnel like riding experience.

Lake Superior is beautiful. Ocean like in many respects. It has quite a tide flowing in. There is an area along the coast called the Pictured Rocks. Theses cliffs here are layered in shades of red, orange and yellow earth. It goes on for miles, but only this one point is accessible by vehicles. The next closest vantage point is a 3 1/2 mile walk each way. You can also catch a boat and see it from the lake.

Michigan also seems proud of their waterfalls. I saw a couple. They were OK. But I also saw one they called a waterfall and it was hardly a rapid. Not a fall at all.

I crossed Mackinaw Bridge on to the mainland of Michigan (the glove). Yoopers call everyone who lives on the other side of this bridge, Trolls.

The sun was getting low and I passed a state park on Lake Huron. The sign said camping. Great!

I rode passed, 5 or so miles to the next town Rogers City for supplies, then returned to the state park. I went into the office at the opening gate (not just a drive thru). I said I’d like a campsite. I was told to ride through, choose the one I liked and return. Before I did that, I asked, “How much is this site?” 22 bucks plus an 8 dollar out of state fee. What the…..? I said no way, that’s not camping. She told me of a place 14 miles away in the woods. That’s just where I went.

In the morning I stopped for gas. I talked for a while with a guy named Frank. He rides, but not on his present trip. He was visiting Michigan from Arizona as I recall. He asked if I had been to any of the lighthouses? Hmmmm. Maybe that was something one does when in Michigan. So I went to see one. This one is on Presque Isle.

Apparently there are Paul Bunyon’s in numerous locations.

This road I rode also had interesting traffic and street lights. Sometimes just a single little streetlight on a wire hangs alone to light a street. But traffic lights hang like this too. And there are the written signs as well. If there is a left only lane, it won’t have a light with an arrow. It will have a red or green light with a hanging sign to let you know it’s left only, dangling next to the light.

Throughout Northern Michigan I saw warning signs for moose crossings. Oh, how I’d love to see a moose. I have seen one twice before. The first time in Yellowstone in 2002. I have that on video. The second time was in Idaho in 2008. A big mama moose and her youngin’ jumped up on the road before me. It had been raining and I couldn’t get to my camera before the moose ran off. When I told a guy at a bar about how it freaked me out and I was lucky to be able to stop in time on that wet pavement, he said, “You don’t slow down for moose, you just ride underneath ’em!”

Anyway, the only moose I got to see were stuffed at Cabela’s.

This Cabela’s in Dundee, Michigan is also host to the largest bronze wildlife sculpture in the world.

As I crossed the state line into Ohio I saw a hot air balloon.

I then shacked up in perhaps the worst hotel I have ever stayed in. Not the worst in the sense of dirtiest. That was last year in Tucson. But the worst because it claims to be better than it is. The place in Tucson made no secret of the fact that it was a shit hole. This place in Perrysburg, Ohio said they had WIFI, breakfast, blah blah. There was no WIFI. There was no soap, no shampoo, no bath towels. Just two tiny little towels both of which needed to be used to dry yourself off after a shower. And then at 8 in the morning, the cleaning lady walked right in. No knock. No nothing. Just used her pass key and walked right in. I screamed, “Fuck!” She said “Sorry, sorry!!” and ran off. I was too pissed to bother and see if it actually included breakfast.

The next day Bonnie turned 50,000 miles. It happened in a town called Sandusky, which really bothered me. But some things you have no control over.

My Bonnie has been very, very good to me.

North Dakota

I left the Buffalo Chip and headed north. It was difficult. As big ‘ol Randy said, “There is something about this place. It’s like an old friend.”

The weather in the Black Hills is deceptive. I could see this storm to the west. Why I didn’t check the radar, I don’t know. Sturgis will make you forget things. I tried to predict how the storm would move. Knowing what Randy and I rode into the previous day, I should have known. Even when you are looking dead at a storm, you don’t know how it’s going to behave, and on this coin toss, I took the wrong road. That storm to the left was moving to the right and I went straight on to meet it full force. I got slammed.

When I crossed the border into North Dakota the rain let up. I stopped at a gas station and asked some fellow travelers from Sturgis how that road to the west was. They said, “Not bad. A little windy.”

Oh well. I was getting late. I was a little beat up, but I survived. I carried on to Theodore Roosevelt National Park. This is the Badlands of the north. I was cold. I was wet. I pitched my tent, stayed up to look at the stars for a while, then went to bed.

At sunrise the next morning something fantastic happened. I heard sounds like one would hear in Jurassic Park. Loud snorts and groans. I could hear actual chomping on the foliage just outside my tent. It was buffalo! I poked my head out of my tent and could see the steam burning off their massive bodies as the sun topped the hillcrest.

I saw them from afar the day before, but this was tremendous! Even a wild horse roamed past by.

They were all around me! It was the most exhilarating feeling. I got out and walked amongst them.

I immediately figured out the pecking order and quickly picked up on their behaviors. There was definitely an alpha bull to this herd. They all took his lead in the direction of their grazing.

Below is the look you don’t want to see. This is how the alpha bull looked at the others just before he charged at them.

The alpha bull’s main concern was his girl. Every once in a while another bull would get a little too close and he would let him know who is boss by taking a quick charge at him. Afterward, he was quick to return to his babe before another bull went for a mount.

I was tired after a late night with the stars followed by a break of dawn rendezvous with the great buffalo herd. I decided I would stay a second night. As I was setting my hammock up between the picnic table and a tree, the camp host came by. “Sorry”, she said, “No hanging anything from the trees. Hmmmm. I was not satisfied with not hanging my hammock, so I made my own trees between the stove and picnic table.

The next morning I headed out to ride the loop around the park.

A group of wild horses grazed about near the side of the road.

Theodore Roosevelt National Park did not offer the variety of color and formations that its South Dakota Badland brother does, but the wildlife more than makes up for it. Running with the buffalo was an overwhelming experience I”ll never forget!

Just outside the park are the remnants of an old slaughterhouse.

I traveled a route recommended by the cook at Sturgis. There was a lot of lush farmland along the way.

I rode past a sign that read Knife River Indian Villages. I knew the site of Fort Mandan was nearby. Fort Mandan was where Louis and Clark had set up camp on their journey across the newly acquired Louisiana territories. (If you have kept up with this blog, you will know I am a big Louis and Clark head). So I turned around. What was this Knife River site?

The village at Knife River was the home of Sacagawea herself. Well, it became her home once she was kidnapped by the Hidatsas from her people. I was in awe of the fact that I stumbled upon this.

The parks department has recreated an earth-lodge dwelling as would have been seen here in the scores before. It’s a phenomenal structure. Unassuming on the outside and spacious and cool on the inside.

The village once sat here by the edge of the Knife River. Louis and Clark once walked amongst these people right here.

I spoke to the ranger for a while. He told me that the Fort Mandan site is not only a recreation of the old fort but many miles from where the actual fort would have rested. He said the actual fort site is long gone and believed to be where the present power plant lies. It’s amazing to have stumbled upon this historical site. This is sacred historical ground. Sacagewea was a pivotal part of United States history.

It is difficult to see the texture of the ground from eye level.

But from an aerial view, you can see the circumference of the form from the earth dwellings.

The Ranger snapped a shot of me holding a buffalo skull.

I camped out at Lake Sakakawea State Park. The spelling and pronunciations of this amazing woman’s name (who probably is solely responsible for Louis and Clark’s survival on numerous occasions) are varied. The park and nearby town use the “k” version.

At the State Park, I had a peninsula on the lake all to myself. I placed the tent within some all-day shade on a bed of soft grass. Real comfy and quiet.

In the morning Keith the Park Ranger stopped by my neck of the woods. He was on a mission to kill a pesky badger who has been burrowing in the sides of the cliffs compounding an already bad erosion problem.

Keith used to ride a motorcycle. He said he quit after his 3rd near-death experience. Keith said he had a front blowout at 75MPH, a wipe-out from some gravel on a twisty curve, and something else I don’t remember.

We talked about this and that. Freaking fracking and whatnot. He tells me this lake is the best fishing spot in the United States. The best fish around with the lowest mercury content can be plucked out of this body of water. He said if I ever pass by this way again, I should look him up and he will take me out on his boat to do some fishing.

This was a very nice park. They even had a kid come around before I left just to dust off the signs.

That cook at Sturgis told me I should check out the National Fishery while in the area by the dam. So I did.

The fish start out in these jars before being introduced to tubs, then large beds, then ponds outside before being released.

I continued east. I am going to leave you with some photos of the rest of my journey across NorthDakota. Later!

Sturgis 2012

Ah Sturgis!

I rode like mad from the Colorado Rockies to Sturgis, South Dakota and made it for Thursday night’s show at the Buffalo Chip. I pitched my tent, cracked a beer and began wandering about. That is the cool thing about the Chip. It’s self contained. You can have a great time, have some beers, see class act live music and not have to worry about riding home. It’s all there in one place. I am not even sure who the opening band was. All I knew is I made it there and the weather was perfect. Weather can be a serious issue in the Black Hills of South Dakota.

While taking this shot, I heard the following behind me: “You getting a tattoo?” ” Nah, just a touch up.”

There was lots of performers with fire this year. This chick gave the blow job a whole new meaning.

The schoolgirl look never gets old.

A simple, yet effective use of paint.

Next I came across another new event at the Buffalo Chip. Midget Bowling! They were advertising a lubrication called Biker Lube. They would pour it all over the lane and then someone would toss that midget into the pins. Excellent!

Next up was the headlining band of the evening. Lynyrd Skynyrd. Or at least what’s left of ’em. That amounts to one out of the original seven members. Gary Rossington is all that is left. Ronnie Van Zant’s brother Johnnie has replaced Ronnie. A fine choice, though I always thought he could have taken that role a lot sooner. I remember wanting him to join as soon as heard his first solo album back in 1980. He’s put on some weight and lost some locks making him look more like his departed bro. But if you were to close your eyes and listen, this band rocks out the anthem Skynyrd tunes like they were fresh off the vinyl and the crowd showed their appreciation with the roaring sound of twisted throttles.

After Skynyrd left the stage it was time for the Buffalo Chip girls. That’s my girl on the left making the final three.

I say ‘my girl’ because you may remember her from last year. CLICK HERE. OH, AND HERE!

And one of the greatest things about concerts at the Chip is the fact that you can bring your bike with you.

There are various other stages with live music around the Buffalo Chip as well. This one had a great bluesy band and more girls playing with fire.

As I was taking these photos I noticed an old friend sitting on the perimeter of the crowd. It was my favorite Sturgis buddy Randy from Wheeler, Texas.

I hung with Randy the rest of the night. I could listen to him talk all day! I wish I had a tape recorder going when he is talking. Besides his awesome Texas accent, he says some amazing things. He a simple man and a great philosopher of life. So many times throughout the night, I would say to myself, “I have to remember that, I have to remember that!” Come the next day…I didn’t remember that. Below is Randy chillin’ with his new bike. When I first met Randy in 2010, I remember him telling me about the birth of his premature little girl. He said they rested her in his hands, and it was just like holding a hot steamy potato. It’s those kind of descriptions that makes Randy remarkable. I don’t think he even realizes how clever and funny he is. He is a humble man who has lived through a lot of hard knocks. But he told me, “Pat, life’s been real good to me this year.” I’m very pleased for him.

In the morning I woke up kind of early. I thought they stopped serving breakfast at 10. Found out, it’s 11. They make a mean breakfast at this one place. A family from North Dakota comes down and has been running it since 2007. I like to go there, get breakfast and ask the cook if I can plug in to recharge all my electronics. He always says yes. This time though, we got to talking. Once he mentioned he was from North Dakota, I told him I was headed that way after Sturgis. So he gave me some good advice about where to go. And where not to go. “Lots of Oil and Fracking going on above Williston. Better stay clear of there!”  He also told me if I came back for dinner, he’d pick me out a special prime rib.

Randy and I talked about heading into town. In my 3 visits to Sturgis, I never went to town at night. There were always great concerts going at the Chip and I don’t want to ride if I’m drinking. We decided we’d leave just before sundown, stay a few hours then come back to catch Slash and Skid Row. We headed on out. Just as we were about to hit the highway I noticed little things bouncing of the ground. It was hail. And then, BOOM! Rain like you can’t believe! A white out! We quickly turned around. It was raining so hard, I couldn’t even make it back to my tent. I pulled over at the ticket booth and waited it out. I lost Randy.

The rain slowed down and eventually stopped, but the cool air came flowing in and it stayed. This is bad! One of the great things about this place is the dress code and that involves a lack of dress code. Once it gets cold, that’s it. Changes everything. I’ve seen it before. It sucks. When I was in Colorado I bumped into a guy who told me he was up at Sturgis earlier in the weak and it was 105 degrees. Imagine those outfits!

Well I roamed around a bit then saw the opening band while having that delicious hand picked prime rib dinner. Afterward I went back to my tent with every intention of grabbing a beer and continuing the evening, but I closed my eyes. That was it. I didn’t mean to but I fell asleep hard. Between the rain, the cold, and the prime rib, I was out. I woke up at about one in the morning. I walked around and there were still some things happening, but I was wiped out. As was Santa. 

Originally I was going to stay until Sunday, but the weather cleared the place out. I really have to try getting here sooner in the week, but my insane cross country agenda just won’t allow it. So I said goodbye to Randy. Or a see ya next year. He gave me sound advice like, always wear eye protection and (as he held up his holster) that I should really carry a handgun with me when I travel. Thanks Randy. As I was packing up my gear, I bumped into Brian, the guy with all the shade tents from last year. I had also bumped into Jim earlier in the day at the Full Throttle Saloon. Jim was psyched because an oil company was using his land and he doesn’t have to work anymore.

Although this was the least eventful of my three visits to Sturgis it occurred to me that it’s this comradery that really makes this a special place. The more you come back, you meet these people. And you meet them again and it’s like seeing an old long lost friend. I really like Sturgis.

On my way out of the Buffalo Chip I stopped by the Triumph tent. I’d really like something like this. Broken down to it’s most simple form.

While there I met Todd the Regional Manager for New England Triumph stores. He recommended some of the other shops in the tri-state area for me. Might check out the Bridgeport shop when I get back.

I headed north up route 79 toward North Dakota. I made one last stop at the Broken Spoke on my way out of town.

At the Spoke was a map on which people had posted their origins. Pretty neat!

So on down 79 I went. I chose this route because I thought there was a storm to my south. There was. What I didn’t anticipate was it’s distance and trajectory. We were headed right toward each other. Oh boy. A story for the next post.

And on this, the eve of the the 35th anniversary of Elvis’ death, I bid you farewell. Funny, I was in South Dakota when that happened. Baltic not Sturgis.

Nevada, Utah and Colorado. Headed East!

That was the least amount of time I spent in California in all my trips. Once Sturgis was firmly planted on my mind, I really didn’t want to miss it. My goal was to get there at least by the Thursday before it ended. So sacrifices had to be made. Now I was going to follow that route that Bruce recommended. I should have taken a picture of him too. He’s a big guy with long hair. Very friendly, peaceful kind of guy. A teen of the Vietnam era. It comes up in conversation.

So into Nevada I went. I spent the whole day in Bodie, California so I had lots of riding to do to. I decided to get a room in Reno. Like in Vegas, I could get a nice room for $29. Nicer in fact than the $29 room in Vegas. I stayed at the Sands.

This was the view from my room when I arrived.

I was tired and I wanted to check my photos now that I had some electricity and a desk to sit at, but I figured I should check the town out, at least a little bit. Reno ain’t Vegas! But it has it’s share of glitz and neon.

This Thunderbird Motel sign was great. Unfortunately many of the old hotels with those clever old neon signs remained unlit.

I saw this mint Nash Metropolitan sitting shiny in a parking lot next to a tattoo parlor.

I am thinking…so fix it, right? Reno.

Now it was time to make that last right turn and head east on the loneliest road in america. That is it’s given name. Route 50, the Loneliest Road in America.

I figured lonely certainly meant I did not have to worry about speed limits. I’ve bust 100 before, but not one handed while taking a photo.

On the lonely road are occasionally lonely towns. I was worried about the availability of gas on this road. In fact I had been warned, “Make sure you carry an extra container of fuel”. The guy who runs the Triumph sales department where I got a rear tire for my bike in LA told me I should worry. He said in one town the lady only sells gas from 10am – 3pm. So I checked my maps and saw the town he spoke of. The only way that was going to be a problem was if I hadn’t filled up in the previous town. I learned long ago that out west you fill up regardless of whether your tank is low or not, so it turned out not to be a problem after all.

As is often the case, I think I am going to get a lot farther than I actually do. My plan was to make it to Great Basin National Park and camp. Nope. The sun was going down. Fortunately at my favorite hour to take pictures a subject showed up to my left. A ghost town! Right there as the sun was breaking through some clouds. Yay!

It got dark and I could see rain ahead, so I stopped in Ely and got a room for the night instead.

Great Basin National Park itself was not as spectacular as I expected. I was pleased to see big beautiful mountains with lush forest around in Nevada. My perception of Nevada was that of one big desert predominantly occupied by US military bases, flying drones and experimental aircraft along with regions of nuclear wasteland. Not so. This was a nice ride. Once I got in the park, I ditched my helmet and headed up the mountain. Sometimes when you go from state to state it’s easy to forget the rules. In Nevada wearing a helmet is mandatory.

If you do forget however, they have folks who stop to remind you.

I suppose the reason I wasn’t massively impressed with the Great Basin was because of my exposure to the Colorado Rockies. This place didn’t compare. At least not on the outside…

…On the inside, that’s another story. Lehman Cave is also located in this park, and it is spectacular.

A bacon strip. I had seen one of these somewhere before. It could have been in a Kentucky cave I saw when my friend Marc and I planned to drive to Graceland and ended up in Los Angeles.

The last stop for gas in Nevada on the loneliest road happens to be right on the border of Utah. So I lost a couple dollars in Nevada…

…then I took this photo at the same location. Notice the old lonely dog to the left of my front tire. He was just roaming around looking for scraps.

Now I was on the lonely road Utah style.

As you approach a more fertile area before the town of Delta you will find a shoe tree. Got to love a shoe tree!

I camped by the Sevier Bridge Reservoir in Utah for the night.

That night I was looking at the stars when I thought I was witnessing something apocalyptic. The upper crest of a crescent moon was just rising above the horizon. At first I had no idea what it was. Because the point first showed itself as a pointed orange glow, I thought it was some crazy volcanic activity or maybe an oil well ablaze. It quickly showed itself to be the moon and it was beautiful.

As I rode south from the campsite I passed a group of cows sitting on either side of the road just before going under this overpass. As I look at this photo it seems like a Hollywood painted backdrop. Right? Weird huh? Click it as you can all the photos to see them larger.

I continued along through a small town with numerous old former service stations.

I usually avoid Interstates, but the only choices in this part of Utah would have put me way out of my way to the upper Rockies in Colorado where I wanted to be. Besides, for an Interstate this one happens to go through some very scenic areas.

On to Colorado. I made a left upon entering the state and headed north. I wanted to ride route 14 above Rocky Mountain National Park. When I was staying at Willsville Biker Camp in Virginia a guy mentioned this road. So I camped out in the mountains outside of Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

The stars were incredible.

As I moved on there were nice views but it was hazy from forest fires in the area.

There had been forest fires along route 14 not too long ago as well. The mountains along the last part of the highway were completely burnt.

One finds fewer and fewer shiny chrome tankers to take self portraits in these days. Many of them now have a candy striped sticker to prevent one from seeing their reflection. I am always happy when I find a clean one.

From here it’s a straight shot to Sturgis.

California

So I flew out of Los Angeles after visiting Mr. Hitler’s home and headed north. It gets damn hot once you get “over the hill”. That’s LA talk for the hill between the city and the valley. I really pushed it and the hot winds were kicking my ass. Pushing it in LA is rough. You can be riding 85MPH and people will fly past you. Not on this route. Traffic was tight, therefor it was cutting the lane time. This is a freaky California experience. In Cali if the traffic gets tight, bikers ride between the cars. It is a frightening thrill ride. That’s just what I did for many a mile. The further I went the hotter and windier it got. I was headed up the road that goes between the Sierra Mountains and Death Valley. Hot stuff! I decided I would stay at a campsite in a town called Bishop. I knew the place. I stayed there before. The reason for this route was two fold. One, I was going to take that western route across Nevada that Bruce at Hovenweep told me about, and two, there was a ghost town where I wanted to spend some time. Bodie!

On the way to Bodie is Mono Lake. I was planning to pass it right by but the light was attracting me. There were holes of sunlight hitting Mono Lake as multiple storms surrounded it. I had to have a look. I am glad I did!

Pretty freaky huh? Mono Lake is a shallow saline soda lake. It’s one of the oldest lakes in North America. In certain parts where freshwater springs and the alkaline lake water mix these calcium-carbonate spires and knobs called tufa appear.

But my real reason for being up this way was to see Bodie. I had tried to see it once before, but I showed up  after 5pm and they are very serious about having everyone out by 6pm. Being that the day was getting late and I would have put myself in that same situation, plus there were these storms to the north, I decided to stay in the nearest town Lee Vining.

Staying in Lee Vining allowed me to return to the lake and take a few more shots. A number of people were trying to capture the lightning coming from the storms in the background. I was not successful with the lightning, but the place still looked super cool.

I had hoped to do some work on this blog while I was in Lee Vining, but a storm knocked out the internet. In fact, it knocked out all the power for a short time. In the morning I had a delicious breakfast sandwich at the motel next door as I sat in their garden. Then it was off to the ghost town.

Bodie.

Bodie is actually named after a guy named Bodey who discovered gold there. No one is exactly sure why the spelling was changed. They say a sign painter wrote it that way and it stuck. Unfortunately for Bodey, he couldn’t correct them as he froze to death the first winter after discovering the gold.

Once word was out about the discovery of gold, Bodie soon grew to a town of about 10,000.

Bodie became one of the most notorious wild west towns. It didn’t have the iconic names and legends of the wild west, but it did have 65 saloons at one point. Murders, shootouts, bar room brawls and stagecoach holdups were regular occurrences. It had a Chinatown with many opium dens as well.

 

Only about a fifth of Bodie’s original buildings exist, but they are left pristine. Everything has been maintained as it was after the people left. It would have been more expensive to ship things out of Bodie than for people to buy new things, so much was left behind.

I was fortunate to be able to take a tour of the old refinery. They only give tours to 20 at a time and when I had shown up there were 19 names on the list.

This guy Mike was real knowledgeable about Bodie’s history and he is passionate about it’s preservation. That’s a giant cam shaft he is leaning on.

 

So that’s it for California. I would have love to stay longer, but I really wanted to catch the end of Sturgis. It was time to head east!