While that may indeed be the title of a James Bond movie, it has a different meaning in relation to this story. As you may remember in my story from last year titled "My Last Great Adventure", I alluded to the fact that it was going to be my last week-long motorcycle trip as I had, somewhere along the line, lost my enthusiasm for riding. My Honda Goldwing was going to be put up for sale in the spring, and I would either get a smaller displacement motorcycle or none at all.

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   Well, after writing that story and having absorbed all of the little details that made that ride so damn much fun, I realized that I had been riding with the wrong mindset. As I know so few people who still enjoy riding, I was riding alone all of the time, and my time on the road had turned merely into a ride towards a particular destination. And, once that destination was reached, the ride would turn solely into a way to get home in the shortest amount of time. Not exactly an enjoyable way to spend a day on the road.

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   After last year's ride, though, I finally realized that the focus of my rides should be more on just enjoying the time out on the road and that the destination should be determined more by being the means to take different routes that wouldn’t be taken otherwise. Also, as I learned from my ride last year, it’s about connecting with people whenever possible, whether it's friends that you encounter on the road or complete strangers wherever you stop. More than once, the highlight of a trip has been a chance encounter with a stranger and striking up a great conversation. All that being said, the Goldwing was not put up for sale in the hopes that my newfound joy of riding would carry over into 2023.

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   Then, in the month of May, the title of this story was born.

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   You see, with my newfound joy of riding, I was working out ideas of where to go on a ride. On May 17th, I emailed my cousin Rob with two ideas that I had. One was to make a quick 3-day trip to Erie, PA, in order to do another Patriot Flag ride and then take a couple of favorite roads home. And, if the weather decided that it didn’t want to cooperate, the route would be changed to include another visit to Gettysburg, PA.

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   Shortly thereafter, I realized that the Patriot Flag ride was only a little more than 3 weeks away. It was way too soon for me to formalize plans and get everything set… or so I thought. Rob suggested that I visit him again for a couple of days, and then we could ride up to Erie with friend Paul Cipar, where we would, once again, stay with Mike and Mary Schleicher. Having had such a wonderful time with all of them last year the deal was sealed, and plans were made to head out of Fremont, NH, on Tuesday, June 6th for a full week of riding!

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DAY 1

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Let the trip begin!

Tuesday, June 6th, 2023

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  With everything having been packed the night before, I was ready to hit the road after saying my goodbyes to my wife, Carol. On the road at 9:11, the temperature was exactly 1 degree warmer than it was last September as I left for the same destination. During the course of the day, the temperatures only warmed up to a high of 67 degrees, and that was only for a short duration. Those were great temperatures for a day long ride.

 

  Traffic was light all the way through New Hampshire, and I arrived at the Vermont border at noon. A trip in this direction wouldn’t be complete without stopping at the usual gas station just before crossing over the bridge. While gas wasn’t needed at this point, I took the opportunity to both dispose of certain liquids and purchase a new bottle in order to quench my thirst.

 

  From there to the top of Hogback Mountain, I encountered 3 or 4 construction zones, but only one of any consequence. Once again, the view from the top was minimal, as, this time, it was clouded over with smoke from the Nova Scotia wildfires, so there was no need to stop and take pictures.

 

  And speaking of pictures… very few pictures of the places where I traveled were taken this year on purpose. While the roads I took all possessed their own special beauty, it was the people that I wanted to make memories with and take photos of.

 

  The next stop was at the Pittstown Grocery Sunoco in New York for gas and I purchased a $5 lottery ticket while there. You see, when Carol and I used to do our traveling out of state, it was always planned to pick up a Powerball or Megabuck ticket in each state that we visited. While doing my best to keep that tradition, I prefer to pick up scratch tickets, as you have a better chance of winning at least a few bucks here and there. With the ticket stored for scratching later tonight, I was off once again.

 

  From here to where I can finally feel that I've passed the worst of it by reaching Route 88 South, it seemed easier than usual. The traffic all the way through was relatively light, with no drama at all. However, shortly after turning on Route 88, the skies changed dramatically.

 

  No, there was no chance of rain that caused the change. It was a tremendous amount of smoke from the Nova Scotia wildfires being dropped into the valleys that changed everything. Beforehand, it was merely white smoke that looked more like fog. But once you get into the valleys between the big hills all along the way, the smoke got thick and dark.

 

  Roughly one-half hour down the road, the smoke took on the brown haze that was shown all over the news of the day, and, in many places, you could even taste it. Most of the trip on this road felt as though I was riding through twilight. and realizing that deer may be thinking the same thing, I was forced to remain extra vigilant in case they decided to start venturing out of the woods.

 

  Took a short break at the Worcester Rest Area, where five NY State Trooper vehicles were parked. There didn’t appear to be anything special going on, as they were just hanging out together, chatting, or talking to their spouses on the phone. While pondering the situation I kicked off a conversation with a guy around my age who was from Illinois. He shared stories of how he and his wife used to ride but can’t any longer. However, he keeps his motorcycle endorsement on his license just in case things change. We chatted for quite a while as he was waiting for his wife to come out of the bathroom. It wasn’t until we caught her waving from the car about 100 feet away that he realized he had already been out for quite a while.

 

  The last gas stop of the day was in Endicott, NY, at an Apple Food & Grocery store, with 328 miles already showing on the odometer. A relatively short time later, I arrived at the Best Western Grand Victorian in Sayre, PA, at 4:15 after riding about 370 miles.

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  Before checking in, since I was now in PA, I stopped at the store across the street and bought another $5 scratch ticket along with a small after-dinner treat. After getting to my room, I checked in with Carol to let her know that I had arrived safely before taking a shower to, hopefully, knock some of the day's smoke off of me.

 

  I drifted down to the "Night Train Lounge" a little later for dinner and a beer. Started off with a Dogfish IPA, followed by a burger and fries from their limited menu. As always, their food is excellent for such a small place and is much better (and less expensive) than many places back home.

 

  Properly sated, I returned to my room and scratched the previously purchased lottery tickets. It turns out that I won $5 on the PA ticket and another $35 on the NY ticket, which I will cash in at the same store on my way back home.

 

  I finished the day off with a cup of decaf and the cherry pie turnover that I had just picked up, while writing down my notes for the day. I wound down by reading a little bit of a New Hampshire Journal magazine that I had brought along before calling it a day before finally calling it a night.

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Note: Unlike last year when every single stream, river, and lake that came into view was decidedly low on water, this year saw everything overflowing. It was a good sight to see!

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DAY 2

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Ride to Shangri-La

Wednesday, June 7th, 2023

 

 

  The shrill sounds of a crowing rooster startled me at 5:30. Wondering why I could hear a rooster through closed windows, I quickly realized that it was my cell phone alarm clock that was creating the racket. Knowing that this morning’s ride was going to be long in order to make it to The Harmony Inn in Harmony, PA, by 1 o’clock, I would have to get moving quickly.

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  A quick shower followed by breakfast had me ready for the road at around 6:30, and I cashed my scratch ticket at the store across the street before heading out. Walking back to the bike, I ruminated over the length of my proposed route and quickly came to the conclusion that it just might be too long to arrive at my destination on time. A quick check of the map to find an alternate route showed me an easy way over previously traveled roads, and I was ready to go.

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  Heading out on the highway showed that the temperature was a chilly 48 degrees. I figured that my heavy shirt and jacket would be sufficient for the day's ride. Unfortunately, my judgment regarding the weather proved to be inaccurate.

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  Traveling down the Southern Tier Expressway, I watched the temperature readout steadily decline down to 44 degrees, at which time I started to shiver a bit. Thankfully, I had been smart enough to pack my electric clothing before leaving home, so I pulled over at the next rest area and suited up. Unfortunately, this rest stop did not have facilities on hand, and my kidneys told me that they were disappointed, so I also had to pull over at the next rest stop about 40 miles down the road. It’s tough getting old!

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  At this second rest stop, a maintenance worker was standing out near the parking area, watching me walk toward him. As I approached, he asked me if my bike was an electric one, as he had never heard one so quiet before. Chatting for a few minutes about the Wing amazed him, and before he had the opportunity to ask more questions, his supervisor arrived and called him over. After making my kidneys happy once again, it was back on the road.

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  While the temperatures slowly rose, the white smoke from the wildfires continued for quite a while, blocking the gorgeous views that I was fortunate enough to have taken in last year. And, again, you could actually taste the smoke in some places. I will be glad when it finally dissipates.

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  The first gas stop for the day was at an interesting station by the name of Sassy’s Truck Stop in Limestone, NY. It looks as though it was built in the 40’s or 50’s, has a built-in restaurant, and has a lot of interesting little trinkets to purchase. After filling up, (without buying any of those trinkets) I hung around a bit to hydrate and grab a quick snack before heading down Route 219. This road takes you right down past the ZIPPO museum, but the smoke was a ‘little lighter’ so I continued on and turned on to Route 6 at Lantz Corners. Not very long after, I changed routes once again to Route 66, which took me all the way down to the big road – Route 80.

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  Shortly after merging onto Route 80, I saw an eighteen-wheeler on its side on the eastbound side of the road. It looked as though he may have fallen asleep, veered off onto a slight hill on the right side of the road, and then ended up flipping over onto his left side. Although there were three or four emergency vehicles surrounding him, there was absolutely no traffic backup at all. It was quite surprising and was the only accident that I saw during the entire week on the road. From here, it was smooth sailing all the way to The Harmony Inn, where Rob was waiting.

 

  While I didn’t realize it at the time, Rob was already sitting outside on the patio at a table that was facing the corner where I would be riding through so that he could see me coming. Unfortunately, my bright orange motorcycle was too quiet for him to notice, and I parked right next to his Indian ten minutes before our planned meeting time.

 

  After catching up while having lunch, we walked to the front of the building with the intent of getting a couple of pictures of me in front of the Inn with the big mustache painted on the building in the background. Unfortunately, for some reason, the mustache had been painted over! What a disappointment. Regardless, we soldiered on and began to provide the other patrons some amusement as our photography session began.

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  We must have taken over 30 different pictures from just as many angles, trying to get everything right. Some pictures were a little fuzzy, some came out extremely dark, and others were slightly tilted to one side or the other. We were, however, after what seemed like 20 minutes, successful in getting quite a number of wonderful pictures and videos of the ground or of Rob’s fingers partially covering the lens.

 

  What made this whole fiasco difficult to understand was that our grandfather, Robert Lucien Roger, had been a professional photographer many years ago in Newburyport, MA. Sadly, it appears that his photography genes never got passed down to us. However, to be fair to Rob, he is not used to handling a smart-phone as he prefers to use a 1980’s style flip-phone, which became an often-mentioned topic throughout the week.

 

  With our audience entertained, we saddled up and headed for Dalton. Only a few miles down the road, we stopped for gas, and shortly after that, we had a doe trot across our path with a newborn right behind her. The fawn was so young that she still had her spots and extremely wobbly legs, and she was a sight to see.

 

  Eventually we made it to Shangri-La (the name that I christened his home years ago) and successfully skidded down the gravel driveway to the garage. Every single time that I’ve ever driven down this driveway, it has been a butt-clenching experience but has never turned into disaster. It’s always a relief when I reach the bottom.

 

  Not ten minutes after putting the bikes away, Rob’s wife, Carol, arrived. We all chatted for quite a while before dining on delicious homemade chicken salad sandwiches for dinner, which were accompanied by a Bud. (No, definitely not a Bud Light!) Afterwards, Rob and I pored over maps both upstairs and downstairs, trying to determine which roads we would ride in the morning. Once the route had been selected, we worked our way back up to the porch, where we continued chatting while their cat, Stretch, relaxed in my lap. According to both of them, Stretch rarely does this with anyone. Lucky me!

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  With the clock nearing 10 o'clock, I finally tapped out for the day.

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DAY 3

 

The Triple Nickel – Route 555

Thursday, June 8th, 2023

 

 

  Last night, due to a stiff back, I did my best impression of a Holy Roller and eventually gave up attempting to get a good night's sleep at 5:30. Getting up to a quiet house I decided to take a short walk around the yard to see how the morning was unfolding in nature. Walking behind the barn I could see a well-kept path heading out through the trees past the Mulberry tree. Not feeling that adventurous I left the trek to another day and relaxed with Stretch on the patio while the morning unfolded.

 

  Later, we all enjoyed a tasty breakfast of scrambled eggs and English muffins with homemade raspberry jam, which was all washed down with black coffee. Great way to start the day!

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At roughly 9:20, we readied the bikes, filled our tanks, and headed for The Triple Nickel. Only a few miles later, we turned right onto a road that would get us there fairly quickly… only to find a "Road Closed" sign. Oh, bother! A quick alternate route was determined, and we were on our way.

 

  Eventually reaching the beginning of 555, Rob, as he did the previous year, pulled over to the side of the road and had me take over the lead. This is done because he has ridden this road numerous times and realized how technical some of these corners can be. If he were to ride in front, then the follower might feel too pressured in some of the twisties and ride outside of his limits. This way, the lead rider can ride at his own pace and, hopefully, avoid any unnecessary excitement. Good move, Rob!

 

  The Triple Nickel. What a road! While I’ve never been fortunate enough to ride the Dragon, I believe that 555 is a worthy alternative. And, perhaps best of all, there’s very little traffic! For those not familiar with this road, it is part of Ohio’s best 9 roads that are centered around Athens, Ohio. All of those roads are described on the website Windy9.com which describes the Triple Nickel as: "Considered the most technically challenging road in the region, this ride is not for beginners. For the rest of you, get ready for one of the best rides of your life." After riding its entire 65 mile length, I absolutely agree! Except for a few short sections of roads with those dreaded tar snakes, it’s exceptionally well kept.

 

  While piloting a sportbike or a V-twin-engined motorcycle might be better options, my 20-year-old Honda Goldwing was up to the task. That being said, the engine braking of a V-twin motor would have been a much preferred method of controlling speed in the tight corners rather than what was provided by my 6-cylinder machine, which has little. Rather than just rolling off the throttle and then twisting it to pull through the corners, I was relegated to using the brakes much more often than I would have liked, as it upsets the balance of the bike when leaned over. Regardless, it’s one hell of a fun road no matter what machine you ride!

 

  Near the end of 555, we felt the need to stop at the Triple Nickel

Diner in Chesterhill for a piece of homemade pie. Our choice for

today was homemade blackberry pie, which was, of course,

delicious! As we left the building, we were approached by a

young lady who asked about where we were riding. When she

learned what town we were heading back to, numerous options

were discussed by she and Rob. Afterwards, she informed us that

she is a 56-year-old former fireman with a couple of grand-kids

and has lived her entire life in Chesterhill. We then bid adieu and

attempted to walk to our bikes.

 

  I say "attempted," as we only made it a couple of feet when three

men in bright orange shirts started chatting us up. It appears that

they were doing some survey work in the area and had also stopped at the restaurant for a bite to eat. The first two  eventually made it back to their work truck, while the third kept on chatting about this and that. Somehow, his buddies eventually got him to return to the truck so that they could continue their work.

 

  Finally saddled up and rolling, a tall guy nodded at us on the way by, and I saw that he was preparing to get on his BMW GS model. Less than 10 minutes later, he was right behind us and waited patiently for the proper time to pass us, as I was obviously going too slow. As he passed, he waved and quickly disappeared around a tight corner. It was evident by his calm, relaxed style that he was a good rider.

 

  With the Triple Nickel behind us, we were ready to begin the trek home. As is usual, shortly after drinking while on the road, I felt the need… nay, the urge, to stop for a rest break. We pulled into a local station, where I used the facilities and picked up an Ohio scratch ticket. (Actually, two of them.)

 

  As planned, we headed for Route 83, which, generally, is a really nice road. Unfortunately, today wasn’t one of those days, as it was being tar-and-chip sealed. Now, generally, riding on this type of surface isn’t too bad, but today it was around 10 miles of hills and slow-speed corners on what feels like loose gravel. Not the most exciting way to travel.

 

  However, just like annoying kidney stones, this, too, passed, and we finally hit more beautiful roads with great views all the way back to Shangri-La. With both of us fishtailing a bit on the home driveway, we made it safely with just a bit less than 300 miles under our belts for the day.

 

  Just as happened on my first day of arrival, Carol came down the driveway only minutes after we did. Her trip for the day was to see the play Moulin Rouge with her sister. Their ride home after the play was slightly marred due to being stuck in traffic. Thankfully, neither Carol nor her sister were involved.

 

  While dinner was being prepared, Carol glanced across the room into Rob’s workshop and noticed that a bird (a Tufted Titmouse if I recall correctly) was sitting on the inside of the window. Apparently, birds have recently been feeling the urge to fly down the chimney and travel around the house looking for a way out. As the bird must have been stunned, Rob calmly walked over and gently put his hand around the bird without any fuss. We all took a look at this lost soul before Rob opened the slider and let him fly away.

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  Another delicious dinner was enjoyed by all, with more time spent with Rob chatting on the porch and Stretch once again stretching out on my lap. As we were relaxing, Carol ventured out to water her vegetable garden and came back drenched due to a large leak where two separate hoses had once been joined together. It looks as though Rob has a project for tomorrow.

 

  Started to fade at 9:30, when I called it quits and headed for my upstairs suite, where my attempt at winning millions with Ohio lottery tickets proved fruitless. Ah, such is life. That’s OK, though. I started out my life with nothing and still have most of it left.

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DAY 4

 

Scott and Meghan

Friday, June 9th, 2023

 

 

  Today was quite an enjoyable day, despite the relatively low mileage put on our bikes. Why, you ask? Because it was spent mostly with family. I believe that I’ve mentioned it earlier, but we can ride any time we want, but spending time with family and friends is the most precious thing that we have, and I’m grateful to be out here in Ohio with family! That is the real reason why I’ve taken this trip.

 

  Alrighty, then. As usual, I was up at 5:30 but just kicked back and enjoyed the quiet until nature called at 6:30. Seeing as it was already light, I dressed and went for a walk around the place. Remembering the little pathway behind the barn, I decided to check it out and went for a morning stroll while nature readied itself for the day.

 

  It’s a nice little path that takes you through lots of trees and wildflowers and brings you down the side of a small hill where you have a great view of a large farm that, at this time, was ready and waiting for planting to begin. Halfway down the hill, it curves to the left and brings you out behind Carol’s vegetable garden. It’s so refreshing to start the day out in nature, where it’s quiet. Rather than go back inside, I sat on the porch for a while and watched the birds.

 

  Once up, Carol made us some french toast while Rob kept his eye on the bacon, cooking it to perfection. Another cup of black java topped off the feast once again.

 

  Before we headed out, Rob performed a repair on a leaking joint between two pieces of different-sized garden hoses with parts that Carol had recently returned with from the local hardware store. Once the repair was complete and the hose was in perfect condition for watering the vegetable garden, we prepared to leave and waved goodbye to Carol, who planned on spending the day in her pottery shed in order to prepare for a few upcoming artisan fairs.

 

  Out on the road at a leisurely 11:00 had us riding up to Akron to visit Rob and Carol’s son, Scott, and his wife, Meghan. I’m not quite sure how Rob ever found his way to their home, as our route involved innumerable twists and turns. Wish now that we had left a trail of bread crumbs in order to find our way back home.

 

  Meghan appeared first with their three little white dogs, who all exhibited enormous amounts of energy and wanted to be picked up and held. A few minutes later, Scott was able to finish his telephone conference and came out to greet us with hugs and his giant smile. He proceeded to show us his vegetable garden and dug a few cucumber plants and some lettuce for Carol. A brief trip around to the back of the house showcased the amazing amount of plantings that they have done on the property. Sadly, Scott had many teleconferences for the rest of the day that he was unable to postpone, so our time with him was cut way too short.

 

  Once Scott returned to his work, Meghan told us the story of how she and Scott met and that they were married in Sand Run Metro Park, which is directly behind their home. What a cute couple!

Fortunately, Meghan was able to postpone her appointments for the afternoon, so, after grabbing her helmet, the three of us took a ride over to the FA Seiberling Nature Realm, where birds will, supposedly, eat bird seed out of your hand. While the three of us walked around the park for almost an hour with seeds clearly visible in our uplifted hands, not one bird was interested. With the birds figuratively giving us "the bird" by ignoring us, we headed back to the house by way of Sand Run Metro Park.

 

  When we arrived, we proceeded to the back porch, where Rob enjoyed an Admiral Perry beer, and we sat and chatted for about an hour. While Rob and I sat in normal chairs, Meghan sat in her favorite chair, which is a rope chair hanging from the ceiling and has been there for many years now. At some point during the conversation, I just happened to quietly look at how her chair was attached to the ceiling and thought that it was odd that only one simple eyebolt was holding it up. Not thinking any more of it, my brain returned to the conversation. Then, only a few short minutes later, disaster happened, and the eyebolt ripped out of the ceiling causing Meghan to drop to the floor! I swear that I had nothing to do with it!!! While no doubt bruised and shaken, she assured us that she was OK, and we continued chatting.

 

  Later, Scott had a few brief minutes between calls and came back in to say ‘hi.’ Once he returned to business, Rob and I said our goodbyes to Meghan and headed back home.

 

  Following the breadcrumbs back home, we stopped at the gas station in Dalton to fill up so that we were ready for the following morning’s ride to Erie. I saw what looked like an odd-style Harley trike and asked the owner about it, but he really didn’t anything about it as it was new to him. It looked like a very simple trike conversion kit that could be made to fit just about any Harley quite easily.

 

  Once the bikes were back in the garage for the evening, we sat on the porch while sipping on two fingers of Scotch and discussing the different types of birds and their habits. As she had just finished watering her garden, we watched Carol wind up the newly repaired hose, which made it obvious that the repair job of the morning didn’t quite live up to expectations. It looks like Rob has a little bit more work to do.

 

  After being treated like a king with a delicious steak dinner and salad with lettuce from Scott’s garden, the three of us had a great night of conversation. Perhaps it was the Scotch talking, but I must say that it was the most enjoyable conversation that I’ve had in many years. I’m really going to miss these peaceful evenings spent with Rob, Carol… and Stretch. But if I stay any longer, they’re probably going to start putting me to work. It’s obviously time for me to leave!

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  As difficult as it was to conclude my last evening in Shangri-La, we said our goodnights early in order to be ready for an early morning departure.

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DAY 5

 

Meetup with Patriot Flag riders from Mentor, Ohio

Saturday, June 10th, 2023

 

 

  At this point, you can probably guess what time I woke up. Yup – 5:30. Knowing that this would be my last morning here, I simply relaxed for a while and did a lot of thinking and reminiscing. It actually felt good to just lay back in the silence for a while.

 

  Eventually it was time to move, so I got up, packed my bags, and made it downstairs at 6:30 to find Rob and Carol in the kitchen readying breakfast. This morning our meal consisted of a veritable plethora of delectable delights, and I was totally bewildered by such a vast array, so I chose… a banana. Never was good at making decisions!

 

  Our departure time of 7:30 came all too soon. I said my goodbyes to Stretch, and Carol handed me a bag of delicious granola for the trip, and we were off. And, this time, I won’t say that I’ll never be back, because I’ve learned that you just never know for sure!

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  Planning on meeting Paul along the way to Erie, we arrived at the predetermined Marathon gas station about 10 minutes before him. With full tanks, we road hard for a couple of hours to get to our intermediate destination in Ashtabula, Ohio, where we would meet Mike and Mary along with riders from Western Reserve H-D in Mentor, Ohio, to continue together to the end point of today’s ride at H-D of Erie.

 

  As we were quietly cruising on a city street no further than ¼ mile from our first meeting place, our illustrious leader determined at the very last second that we should be turning right. With no time for turn signals, he quickly applied the brakes and made an immediate turn onto the street on our right. Me, being second in line, using my exemplary riding skills and full use of the Goldwing’s anti-lock brakes, tucked my front wheel inside of his right saddlebag in order to avoid contact. (It was more likely just shit luck.) Fortunately, no blood was shed, and we continued the last couple hundred feet, turned into the designated school parking lot, and drove to the back, where we found Mike and Mary.

 

  Paul, on the other hand, was having none of this last-minute turn nonsense and continued on down the main road until he found a comfortable place to turn around. Once accomplished, he too turned into the school parking lot, but only ventured a few feet down the driveway before doubting his whereabouts and turning around. Rather than ride around the parking lot corner, where he would have easily found the four of us waiting patiently, he decided to get back on the road and get gas about a mile down the road. Two phone calls later, he was finally contacted and informed that he was indeed in the correct parking lot the first time and that he needed to come back. When he finally arrived, I seem to recall some type of conversation regarding ‘being left behind’, but in gentlemanly fashion, it was soon forgotten and never mentioned again. (Or was it?)

 

  Approximately 15 minutes later, we heard the rumble of incoming motorcycles and realized that the Patriot Flag riders from Mentor had arrived along with riders from Erie. Together, there were a grand total of 150 motorcyclists which was quite the impressive showing. After a short break, we were all off, with major intersections blocked by the local police and paramedics, en route to our final destination of the day: Erie Harley-Davidson.

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  Once everyone arrived and settled in, the flag ceremony was performed to hand the flag over to the next guardian. Took a walk through the dealership and saw no bikes that were of any interest to me. There was, however, a 'unique' motorcycle that wasn’t really unique. I believe that it was a regular Street Glide in green with a note on the windshield stating that it was a Unique color. The only problem is that, right next to it, there was another with the exact same color. I guess it wasn’t that unique after all. Later, we all chowed down on hot dogs, hamburgers, and cake provided by Erie H-D.

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  From there, the five of us took off for Mike and Mary’s in Millcreek, PA for the night, but not before we paid a visit to one of their good friends who wasn’t able to make the ride. Mac was quite the character! He was thrilled to see everyone and shared a number of stories, including a few regarding his next door neighbors, that were a hoot! Underneath his gruff exterior, you could easily tell that there’s a… gruff interior as well. But that’s not the point. It was obvious that he loves his friends dearly and wishes that he could be out there riding with them. Let’s just hope that he can do so soon.

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  When we finally reached Mike and Mary's, we ended up on the back patio munching on various nuts, crackers and cheese with iced tea or water with lemon & ginger washing it all down. After a short while, Mary left in order to attend a dance recital where the grand-kids, Grace, Colton, and Michaela, were performing. Perhaps half an hour after she left, I felt the need to take a nap and crashed for a while.

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  Shortly after waking up, it was decided that we’d head out to the John Russell Brewing Company Brew House & Restaurant and sat outside on the patio. Big sandwiches and a pizza, along with various flavors of beer, were happily consumed by all. While we were waiting for the bill to come, an older gentleman (whose name we don’t fully remember but have decided that it’s going to be Charles Swaggart) made note of our t-shirts with the Nation of Patriots theme and started a conversation with us.

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  He told us a story about how he once hit Robert F. Kennedy with some hard-hitting questions years ago and was really into politics. (Poli=many and tics=blood sucking creatures) After hearing of the mission of the Nation of Patriots, he reached into his wallet and handed Mike a $100 bill for the cause because he had an honest face. While he explained that he distrusted me because I was the only one wearing an orange t-shirt, he thought that I looked like a professor. With our pleasant conversation ended, we got back in the car and headed home for the night.

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  To me, it’s somewhat interesting that, although we’re all motorcyclists, the conversation rarely turns to motorcycles. That is, unless we’re talking about a certain green Harley Springer. Then the subject will be occasionally brought up, much to the chagrin of one of our members—and I won’t say who.

 

  On the way back, Mike was explaining to us the heating system that is in his garage. Apparently, there are three ‘bricks’ in this system that are available to provide heat, depending on the settings. As soon as we arrived, we went to the back of the garage at Paul’s insistence, where we were able to see firsthand what he was talking about, and it was quite an interesting system. I, of course, had to throw in my comedic two cents worth by jokingly pooh-poohing the idea by stating, "So, all in all, it’s just another brick in the wall." Only Paul grinned at the reference.

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  Walking back through the rest of the garage, Paul had fun ‘accidentally’ impaling himself numerous times on Rob’s ill-aimed antennae, explaining how dangerous that could be to innocent bystanders. Once he recovered from his injuries, we all sat back out on the porch, where Mary soon returned home and joined us until the mosquitoes forced us back inside.

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  At that time, we were all ready to hit the sack and were totally enthralled when Mike explained to us that they don’t use the timer on the coffee machine but, instead, just tap the start button in the morning. There appear to be two ‘taps’ needed: one to turn on the machine and another to start the brewing. So, according to Paul (who was so excited about this concept that he was taking notes), it is basically a ‘double-tap.’

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  Being totally worn out (it’s easy for us introverts to get this way), it was lights-out, and I went to bed without even thinking of writing my nightly notes. Unfortunately, I woke at 3:30 and remembered, so I spent the next 45 minutes doing so. Lights-out, part 2.

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DAY 6

 

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It’s Time To Say Goodbye

Sunday, June 11th, 2023

 

 

  This was a bittersweet day for me as, after only a few hours, I’ll begin the trek back home in Fremont, NH. (Yes, Mike. I actually live in New Hampshire and not Vermont!!!) Don’t get me wrong. I’ll be happy to get back home to my wife, but I’ll certainly miss my friends. I have truly been blessed to be able to call these great people my friends! In a way, I feel like Dorothy returning to Kansas and leaving behind the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion. As to which of my friends is which character, I’ll leave the decision up to your own imagination.

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  Got up late today and, after cleaning up, packed my bag before heading out to the kitchen and grabbing a cup of java. While Paul was being fashionably late, Mary prepared another spread while we sipped and yapped.

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  Eventually, Paul graced us with his presence while the food was being prepared. During our conversations, Mary asked Paul if he had remembered to call his wife the day before, as it had been their wedding anniversary. He quickly developed a pained look on his face and offered that he may or may not have called her. Oh, oh!

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  After deflecting the conversation away from telephone calls to more pleasant situations, it wasn’t long before Paul brought up the push-button method of making the morning’s coffee. I offered that it was so simple that even Paul could make the coffee, as he is great at pushing buttons. All he could do was smile and say, "Yep. I own that one."

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  Once we had finished eating, we took a few pictures like the one above before hitting the road at 9:30. A half hour later, we were at the dealership and hung around for a little over an hour, snacking on coffee and donuts. Surprisingly, there were two other Goldwings in the mix today. One was a near-new Goldwing, and the other was an aging Valkyrie that had seen better days. It looked pretty beat up, but the owner was tickled with it and proud that, between the purchase price of his used bike and the upgrades that he’s performed, he’s only into it for about $5,000. I bit my tongue and didn’t suggest that he could have bought a near-perfect version of the same bike for less than that. He’s happy, though, and that’s the bottom line.

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  The time came, and we got in the line of around 100 bikes and ended up about two-thirds of the way back, with police escorts and blocked roads provided throughout the ride.

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  Somewhere in the middle of the ride, I heard what appeared to be gunshots

and saw what appeared to be seven men in military uniforms on the side of

the road, providing us with a 21-gun salute. That was the most awesome

thing that I’ve ever seen on a ride and even made me a little misty-eyed

thinking about the mission behind this ride, which, according to the Nation

Of Patriots website, is "...to raise awareness for military issues and to gather

financial support for the physical, emotional, and economic misfortune that

our disabled veterans and their families live with every day." As little of a part

that I play in it, I’m proud to be a part of this mission!

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  Eventually, we made our way to the American Legion post in Frewsburg, NY, where, after the closing ceremony, we ate more hot dogs, hamburgers, cake, and peanut butter-covered brownies. Afterwards, as the five of us formed three different groups that would be headed in different directions, we suited up together and said our final goodbyes before heading out in search of  Route 86, where we would part ways. The dreaded moment finally arrived as Route 86 appeared on the horizon. We all took our separate routes, and then I fully realized that, sadly, the party was over.

 

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  The ride back to my hotel in Sayre, PA, was a straight shot on Route 86, where the only thing that stands out in my memory is stopping for gas in Hinsdale, NY. While what I saw of the area was not much, the local American Legion post has an F4-B Phantom on display in their parking lot that can be seen from the main road!

 

  From there, it was strictly an easy drone to my night’s lodging back in Sayre, PA. Unfortunately, due to some archaic laws on the books, the bar/restaurant is closed on Sunday nights. It turned out not to matter much as I had chowed down pretty well only a few hours earlier, so I just stopped at the convenience store and picked up a sports drink and an ice cream. (Are you proud of me, Mike?)

 

  After that, it was a short night as all I did was shower, write my notes, and watched part of Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle before falling asleep fully expecting the weather forecasters to be right and that it would be raining hard in the morning. That was to be expected because, pretty much every single time that I’ve visited Rob, it’s rained on my very last day on the road. Lucky me!

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DAY 7

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The Voyage Home

Monday, June 12th, 2023

 

 

  Well, it’s early Monday morning and my last day on the road, which, as is usually the case, is going to be a wet ride all the way back. I guess some things just never change.

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  Crawling out of the sack at my usual time, I took a quick look out the window to see how bad it actually was, and, to my surprise, it was totally dry! What? The weather forecasters swore that it would be pouring by now. A quick check of the weather radar showed that the front was still about two hours west of my location and would be traveling due east instead of the northeast where I’m heading today. Yahoo!

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  Skipping a shower to save time, I relaxed and had a nice little breakfast before packing up my belongings. After ensuring that everything that I ate had settled well, it was out to the bike at 6:30, where a partially visible sun was hanging low in the east. I can tell that this is going to be a good day on the road!

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  Other than a quick pit stop somewhere along the way, the first real stop was for gas at Cobleskill, NY, where the Howe Caverns are located. Then it was off to the only congested part of the ride which is I-90 to I-87, taking the exit into Troy, NY.

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  Now, getting through Troy can often be a pain due to the large amount of traffic, as well as the first mile or so of the road being littered with stop lights on hills. This time, however, between artfully positioned semis and cars turning either left or right, it was an easy ride through most of the town. The first stoplight was encountered only after the traffic lightened and the road flattened out. That was so much easier than expected!

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  As the Vermont border was getting closer, I stopped at the Pittstown Grocery Sunoco again to redeem my winning $35 scratch ticket that was purchased on the first day of this trip. The cashier handed me my winnings, and I figured, What the hell? and gave her $15 more for three extra tickets. Taking a break, I sat down at the picnic table to scratch them all when I found that I had won $75 more. Not interested in giving them back their money, I cashed them in and got back on the bike.

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  From there, it was just a nice leisurely ride through the rest of New York, Vermont and back over Hogback Mountain, followed by a ride past the Paralyzed Veterans of America where I worked for almost 10 years, until I stopped only 3 miles from home for the last fill-up in Raymond, NH. It was a nice, relaxing way to spend the day, as the heavens had smiled on me all the way with nothing but sunshine and temperatures in the low 80s most of the day. It was another great week of riding!

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Reflections

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  On most any trip, there are thoughts that drift through your mind as you travel alone on your motorcycle. Some of them are of the people, things, and sights that have crossed your path at one time or another on your ride. While they may not necessarily fit in with the listed events of the day, such as what you’ve read above, I’d like to share some of them with you now.

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  Last year, especially while riding west on the Southern Tier Expressway, I couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful this country is and how much I’d love to be able to travel more and see it all. If you recall, the song “I Will Never Pass This Way Again” ran continuously through my mind for the entire rest of my 2022 trip when I got to see the sights from that road.

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  Unfortunately, the thick smoke from the Nova Scotia wildfires obscured most of the landscape on my way west this year. Nonetheless, a song kept on repeating itself quietly in the background and got progressively louder as my experiences mounted.

 

What A Wonderful World

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I see trees of green
Red roses too
I see them bloom
For me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world

I see skies of blue
And clouds of white
The bright blessed day
The dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world

The colors of the rainbow
So pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces
Of people going by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, "How do you do?"
They're really saying
"I love you"

I hear babies cry
I watch them grow
They'll learn much more
Than I'll never know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world

Yes, I think to myself
What a wonderful world

Oh yeah

 

  Something else that really stood out to me were the differences between traveling North versus South out of Rob and Carol’s place in Dalton, Ohio.

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  Riding north, the hustle and bustle of everyday life became more frenetic. It almost seemed as though life spent there would be more in the everyday struggle to make everything pretty at the expense of everything else. It’s a never-ending trap where you rush to get to work to make more money, and then you rush to spend it all on items that you might not particularly need, such as fancier homes and newer cars and toys.

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  Heading southbound provided me with the polar opposite feeling. There, houses were spread apart, sometimes by great distances. Many of the small towns almost appeared to have been untouched by craftsmen for many a year while a number of homes, though modest in appearance, were well kept without the appearance of being overdone.

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  I just got the feeling that those people were living peacefully ‘with’ the land and foregoing the unneeded stresses of those who are constantly trying hard to get ahead. To me, life there would be a much more pleasant way to live, as having peace in one’s life is so much more important than having money. It’s much easier to live a life of peace than it is to be constantly struggling for more. That’s the life for me!

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  One other takeaway from my experiences in Ohio is regarding the people themselves. While those in the northern part are, no doubt, just as nice and friendly as those in the southern areas, the people in the south appear to be much more approachable. Granted, I didn’t get a lot of opportunity to speak with many folks up north, but they always seemed to be in a hurry and unapproachable. But those in the south often came up to us first and started chatting. What they saw was another human being, and were curious about them enough to approach them and say ‘hello.’ Their warm hospitality really endeared this whole area to me, and I hope to travel here again someday.

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  Well, there you have it. That pretty much sums up my entire trip for 2023.

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  If I’ve learned one thing from this trip, it’s that it doesn’t matter how much money is in your bank account, how big a house you live in, how fancy a car you drive, or even how many interesting gadgets you own. No, it’s the people and the beauty of the world that you surround yourself with on a daily basis is what makes life so special. I consider myself thoroughly blessed that I was surrounded by both on this adventure!

 

 

And I think to myself…

What a wonderful world!

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