September 2010
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day one
I was expected in Boston Friday evening.
And I was going to take my time getting across the 853 miles of two lane highways that would take me there. I had taken Route 62 up through Danville, OH for more than fifteen years, but today I was taking it out of the state. Two-hundred and seventy six miles on my first day of what would be an eight day trip.
Wednesday morning started slow. Last minute...
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I stopped for a break not long after crossing the Pennsylvania State line. I found a quiet little country road and parked. It felt good to be in another state. Put some distance under me.
When a truck approached and slowed, numerous thoughts passed through my head. A middle aged man and his wife. The window rolled down and he hollered across the passenger, “Ya need anything?”...
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A maroon Chevy Blazer slowed as it drove by, pulling over a few yards in front of me. As all the various characters that could emerge from it began to come to mind, a very scraggily-looking seventy-something man hopped out, “Ya travelin’!?”
He had a very “retired” look about him. Long grey beard over a well soiled plaid shirt sloppily tucked into pants a few sizes...
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As I followed the Allegheny up into the Appalachian Mountains the forest grew dense with conifers. Large lumber mills and old mill towns, huge industrial parks stacked with oil refinery equipment and old pumpjacks tucked back in the trees along the roadway.
I found Buckaloons Campground just before the intersection of Route 62 & Route 6, the famous route that winds through all of...
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Watchroute of day one
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It grew dark as I wrote down the days experiences. I realized I would be on a schedule defined by natural light now.
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day two
I woke with the sun.
As I stretched in the cool morning valley air I noticed the ground around the tent had bloomed with dozens of little mushrooms.
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The only other movement in camp was the host coming out for a smoke. I asked if he knew a good place to grab breakfast. “Hmmm… There is a little cafe in Clarendon, just past the Route 6/Route 59 split. It’s right next to the post office. I’ve never eaten there, but the lots always full.”
I packed up after my first successful motorcycle-camping night and hit the road very...
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With some searching I found a big sign in a parking lot “Texas Hot Lunch Legal Beverages.” I parked in front of the diner and found myself a booth next to the window. The guy behind me saw my gear and mentioned the perfect weather, “That’s what I’ll be doing this weekend.” I nodded, “I’ll being riding all week.”
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I ordered what would become “the usual.”
Two pancakes. Two eggs. Two sausages. Hash browns and toast with a milk.
I’m a big fan of huge breakfasts and planned to compare them through the different states and different diners on my ride. This one wasn’t much to write home about, though the eggs weren’t bad.
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Continuing across the state on Route 6 was like traveling back in time as the towns grew older the further east I traveled.
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I hit the brakes when I saw the sign for “Chris’ Western Beef BBQ.”
I pulled into a western theme park. The outdoor patio was packed with old western photos, saddle and tack, and other collected nicknacks.
The night before I left, my parents and I had had a discussion about whether BBQ existed in places other than the south.
It does. But it ain’t that good.
I ordered...
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Pennsylvania along 6 showed a worn countryside. More closed down businesses and others with strange hours. The one thing every town had was a post office. And the only new structures I saw repeated from region to region were gas stations and a few hospitals.
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Leaving Route 6 I took a few smaller roads, crossing the New York State line at Hancock on the Delaware River and catching the tail end of State Route 30 in East Branch, NY.
State Route 30 follows the Pepacton Reservoir, the famous drinking water source of New York City. The road was empty this Thursday evening as I flowed through the smooth corners with sun turning the water to silver and the...
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This night I planned an experiment: asking farm houses if I can pitch a tent on their land.
So I’m looking for a good field when I see a big barn on the side of a ridge lit by the sun. I pass the gravel road that leads to it, then pull to the shoulder and turn around. As I turn onto the gravel I see a large handwritten sign, “BEWARE: No Hunting - No Fishing - No Trespassing.”
I...
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Watchroute of day two
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day three
For the second morning in a row, I woke up with the sun.
I’m starting to like this.
I pack up all my gear, strap it to the tail of my bike and pulled out just as the kids of the camp were starting their mischief.
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It’s early, and I’m not hungry yet, so I get a hundred miles under me before I see a perfect little diner. Classic retro diner covered in shiny aluminum panels and neon signage. Even better, there are a couple of bikes parked among a good crowd of cars out front. I’m in good company.
I park under the huge “DINER” sign and find myself a seat among thick Upstate...
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I order the usual with blueberry pancakes, and they are the best I’ve had in years!
Cooked crisp, with possibly a little trick I learned not long ago: a bit of corn meal in the batter.
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Behind me a mother and twenty-something son sit down to coffee.
“Did you apply at the…” “Yes Mom, I tried there.”
“Did you try the…” “Yup.”
“Maybe over at the…”
Just out of college and no one’s hiring.
A local asks one of the two young waitresses “I thought you moved on? Got another job?” “Well, I’ve...
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A few miles down the road and I’m in Massachusetts.
Here the history is real. Towns established in 1660. Old bridges and houses from the early 1800s. And the towns are closer together. Less countryside is passed between them, and as I move East, they grow larger and larger, to the point there are no more fields.
I stop at a Friendly’s Ice Cream, a childhood favorite, and now memory,...
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