Ok, so where was I…

Oh yeah. Day 13
May 8th

Although Salome insisted, I declined to sleep in and spend the day being lazy around the house and avoiding the rain. She wanted to cook me breakfast, but I didn’t want her to go to too much trouble. I’d use the light hunger as incentive to get a hundred miles or so covered before stopping.

“Where ya goin? Can I come too?”

The Strom packed and warming up, I said goodbye to Dennis’ Harley

Salome, cute as a button (and not looking anything like the grandmother she is) in her high heels and works clothes helped me push the bike backwards out of the garage and onto the gravel. She handed me a pack of Pop Tarts and we said our goodbyes.

The drizzle wasn’t bad, but the roads were slick and my visor was fogging horribly. I snuck into this parking lot, the first place I could find with an awning to duck under to properly dry the inside of the visor and get it on my head without rain getting back in.

Sunshine?

Must be an old sign.

Reese’s 1830 Mercantile at the corner of PA 18 and PA 30. If you blink, you could miss it.

As I was clearing the visor and adding more soap in an effort to keep it clear, a gentleman came out to his car and asked where I was headed. The people up here in New England always seem amazed that I’m this far from home. He suggested I go inside for a breakfast sandwich and some coffee, and it sounded like a good idea. The banner near the door boasted free Wifi, so I’d try to get some pictures uploaded.

I have to say - this was THE best egg sandwich I’ve ever had. It wasn’t fried, either. Sliced hard boiled eggs, ham, cheese (maybe provolone?) and a pesto-type spread on crunchy, toasted bread. If you are ever near there, you simply MUST try one!

After the relaxing break, I headed out towards the thin sliver of West Virginia that must be crossed to get from PA to OH.

Rain and construction. I hate the combination.

I decided to pull into a rest area to add my thermals to the multiple layers of clothes I had on.

The Eisenhower Highway. Interesting.

License plate - check
Monkey - check
Helmet - dropped off the seat and rolled halfway through the parking lot and almost got run over by a minivan before I could get to it. Ugh.

I made up more time by taking I70 towards Columbus, where a friend from Houston had moved a few years ago. Attempts to reach her on her cell phone to meet for lunch failed, so I dined alone at the McDonalds.

Here I met Helen (who refused a picture), a state employee working on the road system who rides a Rebel 250. She asked about my luggage, my Camelbak, my GPS - she was absorbing all the details about how to make herself more of a distance rider. She also shared with me the fact that up ahead was a section of road called “suicide alley” - the tar snakes had been laid out of spec, and until they can be repaired motorcyclists should avoid the interchange between Interstates 70 & 71. Duly noted, I detoured south around loop 270.

A few miles shy of Cincinnati:

Lucky 13? Well, that remains to be seen. I'm writing this while sitting on the floor in the lobby of an Ohio interstate rest area. Bathrooms to the left and right of me, a map on the wall with a pin indicating "you are here" and people coming and going; most looking at me like I'm a deranged idiot for being on a motorcycle.

Well, at the moment I'm NOT on a motorcycle. Like I said, I'm sitting on the floor. I found an outlet for the laptop so it can charge while I type just in case I get caught somewhere down the road without power.

And the reason I'm here on the floor typing instead of out there riding away the miles? The weather. I'm 20 or so miles northeast of Cincinnati and a line of storms is moving through the region. I can ride in the rain and I can ride in the cold. I can even ride in the cold rain. What I can't ride in (or rather WON'T ride in for the sake of my own well being) is the downpour that creates almost zero visibility. The rain from above, the road spray from below, fog rolling over each bridge I cross, trucks passing me at full speed, water running down the inside of my visor despite NOT lifting it for any reason, and of course the fogging in the visor that won't quit even when I hold my breath.

I called a friend and he says the worst is still to come. I asked if I had enough time ahead of the squall line to make it to a hotel, and it was recommended that I just stay put for an hour or so. I can't pick up a WiFi signal here (I wish I had one of those USB internet do-dads), so I'll have to trust him. He says after that moves through I'll be safe to resume my travels.

After the rain settled down, I headed back out and made my way into Indiana.

The dark clouds remained behind me the rest of the day.

The mighty Ohio River.

I decided to ignore the GPS and follow the water once more. I was aiming for Louisville, KY for the night but I had a few hours of daylight left. I followed SR156, and signage indicated this was a “scenic byway”.

Rising Sun. There’s a big casino here, but there wasn’t time for gambling on anything but weather and roads.

A few sections of roadway were visibly damaged in what appeared to be landslides. I’m not sure how often the river gets out of its banks, but with the pavement this close, it takes its toll.

Switzerland County courthouse. I guess there was a large Swiss population that settled here.

In Switzerland, I found this sign for SR56, which appeared to parallel SR56 up in the adjacent hills. I wasn’t about to try it, but some of you that are near there would probably enjoy it.

Chasing the sun again, probably squinting age lines into my forehead for an hour or more.

But worth it.

I finally crossed over the river and into Kentucky.

I made it back to the highway as it got dark. I prefer to be on major roadways after the sun sets.

I got a room east of the city and settled in with a pizza to work on the ride report.

But I, uh, fell asleep with the computer on my lap and gave up.

446 miles
Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky

Day 12
May 7th
My Birthday

The whole reason this ride was planned for early Spring during such tumultuous weather was because of today. I wanted to be on the road on my birthday just like I was last year and how I hope to be in future years. I like traditions. I like looking forward to things. Regularity

Well, the trip itself has been anything but "regular". As Mollie said, if everything were going perfectly this would be a vacation, not an adventure. There have been moments that I wished this was a vacation though, sitting on a beach with an icy fruit drink in my hand. Most of the time that thought is the farthest from my mind. An adventure it shall be.

I woke up to a few phone calls and text messages reminding me that I'd grown a year older (seemingly) overnight. Why should we feel like we're a whole year older on this ONE day when its been creeping towards us all year?

The bike had been parked right outside my hotel patio door throughout the night and was easy to pack up.

The bugs that had smashed themselves against my visor had also encrusted most of the front of my bike. I took soapy water and a rag to the lights and blinkers to aid visibility.

Having typed up a day or two of ride reports but not uploading them due to lack of WiFi at the Motel 6, I decided to stop for a liquid breakfast to get that done.

After two iced caramel macciatos (sp?) I was ready to roll.

Westbound

I found myself following water again. You can see it in this picture off to the right of the road.

I've found peace with water. It doesn't like to run along mountain ridges, so it tends to allow for twisty roads at lower elevation. It's a safe bet.

Not sure what's up with this FEMA area.

Miles and miles of construction slowing me down.

The state line was tangled up in this mess, and with state police sporadically placed to watch the flow of traffic, I didn't risk weaving through to the other side of the barrier for a picture. I ventured off the highway to escape the smell of fresh laid asphalt.

About an hour into the ride, my MP3 player decided to quit. It signaled low battery and turned itself off, but I was sure I'd charged it. I took it as a sign that I should be thinking more than singing today, so I left the earphones in to block the wind noise and motored on. I caught myself repeating some of my riding music over and over, but I got a good hour or two of thinking done as well.

No, you don't get THOSE details. As much as I share on this ride, there are things that nly I will know once it's over.

In the next town, I pulled over and swapped out to my "backup" MP3 player. It's shown it's age and has no LCD glass, but it plays music and I'm a creature of habit.

Hills and valleys

Expansive interstates

With the late start, I'd almost forgotten to eat lunch. It was already well into the afternoon when I pulled off for gas and found Aungst's Family Restaurant.

I've always found that restaurants with "family" in the name are worth stopping for, and this one was no exception.

I splurged on a loaded bacon cheeseburger and fries.

When the waitress cleared my plate (yes, it was empty except for the pickles) and asked if I wanted dessert I instinctively said no. I did a double-take though and remembered that it was MY day, so I asked what my choices were.

If this place were closer to Texas, I'd say we need to have a pie run here!

A slice of peanut butter pie and a hot up of coffee were the perfect cap to a great meal.

Back on the road, the skies grew darker as I made my way across PA.

As the drizzles began, I stowed the camera and started to make a plan for the night. If I could make it to Columbus, OH I had a friend I could stay with. The backup plan was a colleague of my mother's that lived outside Pittsburgh.

The rest areas along the interstates are much cleaner than I remember from my childhood. I stopped at this one to let some of that coffee out and to put the liner back in my jacket.

I was making good time on the highway when I realized I was nearing 200 miles on the current tank of gas. I'd been pretty good about refueling well before I needed to, so when the flashing beacon of stupidity blared at me for 15 miles I actually started to worry.

Thing is, I worried less about what I'd do if I ran out and more about how I'd never live it down with the Monday night crew... go figure...

Turns out I still had a half gallon or so to spare.

I made the decision to head towards Darlington, PA where Salome (pronounced Sol-oh-may) would gladly accept me into her home for the evening. She rides a Harley with her husband and has been following my journey on my blog.

She warned me that they lived "in the boonies" and offered to come meet me in town and lead me back to the house, but the GPS said it knew how to get me there so I declined the offer and wound my way up the dark, wet hills and right into their driveway. As I rolled to a stop and put me feet down on the gravel, the garage door magically opened before my eyes and I nestled the soaking Strom in for the night.

Cheyenne said I could share her house as long as I pet her for a while.

After her husband Dennis went to sleep, Salome and I stayed up for a while drinking coffee and talking before finally calling it a night. She offered to let me sleep in and leave when I felt like it or even stay another day to stay warm and dry, but I regretfully had to decline so I could (again) try to make up the miles getting back home.

Oh, how I long for the day I can hit the road and not have to "be" anywhere.

New York, Pennsylvania
363 miles

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Day 11
May 6th

Just another day, but this one started late. I woke up at the not-so-early hour of 9:30, but I stayed in bed listening to the sound of the birds chirping in the mountain air and the dog chasing the cat through the hallway. Keith's house is the perfect mountain retreat, and his offer to "stay a few days, the road can wait" was all too tempting.

I caught up on some postings from the weekend and sorted out my pictures, then packed up the bike once again. I said goodbye to Abby with a game of catch in the yard, then thanked Keith for his hospitality. I tried to convince him to come down to Houston sometime, but I don't think he was going for it.

"Free pool tonight at the bar within walking distance!"

He couldn't convince me to stay, but I can't blame him for trying. I was very tempted.

Down the road I go...

Unfortunately he had some work to do and couldn't break away for lunch, but he had recommended the Vermont Country Deli just a few miles through town.

Brattleboro, Vermont. A quaint little town that, according to Keith, has everything you'd want without the sprawl of an urban city.

I had intended to get breakfast (despite it being well past noon) but the baked three cheese macaroni caught my eye. I got a half pound with a fresh baked roll and some coffee.

Hwy 9 was also highly recommended as a scenic alternative to the interstate system.

I concur!

100-mile lookout. The day was clear enough to see what this great Earth had to offer.

Slowing down through each town that appeared, this caught my eye.

MOOOOOSE!

And this had me thinking of my sister. (Hey Nicole, what do you have planned for June 7th?)

Welcome (back) to New York! This time I was entering on land instead of by bridge/tunnel as I had down in the city.

Spank agrees, this is a HUGE state that not may people realize stretches as far as it does. We'd be spending the rest of the day just getting across it.

And cross it we did. With the sun shining, it was almost warm with my jacket liner in. I was able to ride with mesh pants without even a hint of a chill.

Albany. New York's state capital. Like most states, the capital is not the primary city but houses the gub-ment entities and has its fair share of towering office buildings.

I was on the New York Thruway, but I didn't want to be - so I wandered off. Another $1.20 toll (New England sure gets ya on toll roads and crossings) and I was free and wandering the Catskill region. Instead of following a set route, I turned off the GPS navigation setting and opted instead to follow the lines that looked twisty and went in a general southwesterly direction.

Game Farm Road. It was shaded by the tree canopy and just what I was looking forward to.

Until this.

So I backtracked and found some other squiggly lines, but this time I scooted the screen over a bit to make sure they went all the way through.

Glamorous, ain't I? LOL

Chasing the sun. I have a feeling I'll be doing this just about every afternoon until I get home.

I made my way through Woodstock and wanted a picture of something cute and "hippy" with my bike, but it wasn't like I'd expected. It's turned into yuppy art studios and little sidewalk cafes. I'm sure everything is overpriced and the hippys of yester-year are baby boomers trying to squeeze every penny out of their 401k plans.

I decided Binghampton was as good a stopping point as any for the night, so I pointed the GPS to it and kept following the squiggles. I found Hwy 28, which has a 40+ mile stretch from Delhi to Deposit that I would LOVE to ride over and over again!

The road twists and turns over water and between mountains as it makes its way through a valley. Curves are posted between 35 and 55 mph, and although the road surface leaves much to be desired, I found my groove and started to (finally) scrub off some of the rubber on the sides of my tires. It was invigorating! If it hadn't been so late in the day, I probably would have turned around and done the section again. The elevation was around me - but it went up, not down. The curves weren't tight enough to make me nervous, and there was very little traffic to deal with.

I was in heaven.

After Deposit, I made my way via Hwy 17 into the sleepy college town of Binghampton. I hadn't expected to be in this area, so I had to stop at a gas station to load the GPS basemap. It's one of the few downsides to the Quest I have, but since I road trip with a computer it's not much of a problem, just an inconvenience.

The bugs made sure I'd need to pull over to change out my visor anyway.

Vermont, New York
286 wonderfully lazy miles

Day 10
May 5th

Leaving my family is always difficult, but this time I wasn't being driven back to the airport for a quick flight home. Home would be almost a week away - hopefully - and the journey would have a few milestones to write home about.

Gas prices on Long Island are the highest I've seen the entire trip. Is it something with NY taxes, or just greedy station owners that are trying to squeeze every penny out of the seemingly well-to-do suburban dwellers?

I hopped on the Long Island Expressway and took the HOV lane until it ended, It didn't get me past traffic, but it kept a wider cushion between me and the crazy cagers.

After leaving I495 on the east end, the landscape morphed into countryside - wineries and asparagus farms abound. I passed Pindar, a local wine producer that I know my sister has always liked, but there was no way I'd be able to carry a bottle the rest of the way without breaking or mutilating it.

Land gave way to water, and soon it was on both sides of the rooadway as I headed all the way out to Orient Point.

I arrived at the Cross Sound Ferry in time to buy my ticket, take a few pictures, then board for the hour plus ride up to New London, CT.

Once parked, we were not permitted back down to the parking deck. I later thought that I should have brought the SPoT tracker upstairs with me to have the "blips" continue across the water. Oh well, next time.

It was a beautiful day for a boat ride. The water was mostly calm, the birds were hovering overhead, and the sun warmed everything it touched.

I grabbed an egg sandwich and some apple juice from the on-board cafeteria, then settled wandered the ferry decks looking for interesting things to take pictures of.

New London, CT

Spank says he's got a cough now. I shouldn't have left him down there with all the cars and fumes.

I wasn't able to get a picture of any "Welcome to Connecticut" signs because we crossed over the state line somewhere in the water. I did notice that CT smelled like cedar. Maybe that's just my imagination.

Before too long I was crossing into Rhode Island.

The "Ocean State" - ok, now I gotta pee.

The people in Rhode Island are rude, or at least the few that I met were. I stopped at a gas station to fill up and use the ladies room - but was told there wasn't one available to the public. Even for paying customers? "No restroom" was his repeated response.

Ok, so I went up the road to the next one and there was a sign on the door that there were no facilities. I don't see how the cashier puts up with that...

The third station didn't have a sign on the door and I spotted the powder room in the back. The door was open so I snuck in despite the "Employees Only" sign. Hey, it's not like I had to go through a stock room to get to it, but I reaaaaally had to go! I came back out, refreshed s ever, and proceeded to buy $5 worth of overpriced drinks and snacks as a sign of my appreciation. As I got to the counter, the woman behind it looked up at me, wwalked around the counter to the bathroom, and closed and locked the door from the outside. She came back up front and rung me up, told me to have a nice day (all the while giving me "the look") and I left.

Hey lady, would you rather I just drop trou behind your store?

Onward I go, past Purgatory

Through Massachussets, which I didn't see a sign for, but it smelled like pine trees. Or maybe Pinesol. Is it state-wide spring cleaning day?

Into New Hampshire I go.

Chugging along, I kept my GPS zoomed in so I would know when the crossing into Maine was coming up. I wanted to be ready! A I approached, I realized this would be another state border created by water. The bridge neared.

Did you see that? I bet you didn't. It said State Line - Maine - Vacationland.

Here's a close-up:

I was disappointed. I'd come all this way to get the sign and THAT was it?

I was (slightly) relieved when I got to the end of the bridge and found this, a larger sign welcoming me to the far northeast state. But there was also a small sign next to it that prevent a better picture.

Living in New York for most of my formative years, I'd traveled repeatedly to Vermont and New Hampshire for family vacations, skiing, hiking, and general "get away from the city" vacations, but I'd never stepped foot in Maine until now. As minor an occurrence it is for most, it was a big deal for me. I was smiling from ear to ear, the sense of accomplishment was almost overwhelming. I'd done it. And the naysayers (you know who you are) can all kiss my big, tired, sore behind.

I found a gas station with decent food and beverage offerings to grab some dinner and make a plan for the night. My sister and I have a friend from college that lives somewhere in Vermont, so I called her to get his address and phone number. I left him a message and headed his way.

I wasn't able to reach him but left a message with my ETA around dark:thirty. As I rode through southern New Hampshire, the setting sun was directly in my face and I put my sunglasses on under an already tinted visor.

Both are polarized. Now I couldn't see the GPS screen. DOH!

My shadow grew longer as it followed me west

I stayed on Hwy 4 and Hwy 9, which were fun. I spotted a Moose crossing sign but didn't get the camera out in time - but moose this far south? Really?

I found a small bridge traversing the creek/river I'd been following

And had to be VERY careful riding on and parking in the thick layer of sand that had accumulated on the roadway over the winter.

It sure is beautiful up here

Vermont! I'd crossed over on another bridge, then caught the sign on the other side.

I rode up the unpaved street and into his driveway, but Keith wasn't answering the phone or the door. I called my sister, the coordinator, to see if I was at the right house. Just as she reached for her cell phone to check his number two cars pulled into the driveway. Keith! ":long time no see!"

It had been years, literally. We determined the last time I saw him was at my sister's wedding back in 2001. Since then he'd moved up here to a small town just outside Brattleboro, VT and was working from home. Ah, the life.

I was afraid my last-minute overnight request might have been interfering with his plans, but he and his friend Bryan assured me they were just planning on hanging out for the night and that I was a welcome addition.

I guess they needed someone to beat at darts.

I'm glad I could fill that void.

Our old friend George showed up and we talked for hours about the past - good times, bad times, strange times. We eventually made our way out back and built a fire in the pit.

And as every proper Vermont homeowner should, Keith has a hot tub and coaxed us in. I made do with some Under Armour shorts and a shirt and relaxed away the miles. I must have been in there over an hour, my hands looked like prunes!

New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Maine
406 miles
One HUGE milestone, and the turning point towards home again

Day 9
May 4th

A slow and sluggish start to the day-after-ladies-night-out.

But nothing some bagels and coffee can't cure!

Kat and my brother Heath brought Emma back over to hang out at Nana's house.

And Noah went for a ride on Poppy's tractor

But wasn't able to get the key away from Poppy so he could drive by himself

Heath gives Ethan a boost

And then Nicole tries to keep up with the conversation

She wasn't behaving so we put her in time out inside the pen

And she couldn't figure out how to escape!

Her boyfriend Matt eventually let her out to end the suffering

"Look! Poppy's making chicken!"

"What? I can't hear you. I have lawnmower ears on."

Emma and Kat enjoying the shade

While Nicole enjoys the sun

And the rest of the family eats. We're professionals. Don't try this at home.

"They say lunch is done but I'm still hungry"

Country bumpkin

Noah learns to ride his bike, which he's been talking about since I got to the house with my motorcycle.

"Race Ya!"

An early birthday cake

Noah helps me blow out the candles

And Emma said goodnight to Spank before going home

Day 8
May 3rd

When you leave a camera laying around, it's an open invite for a three year old to start taking pictures.

It's time for Aunt Becca to start packing up her things. I'll be riding from NJ out to Long Island, NY to see mom and the rest of the family.

It was foggy up at elevation, but it cleared as I neared Manhattan.

George Washington Bridge. Brian loaned me his EZPass to make the crossings go a little easier.

Ah, New York City.

I rode around for a while trying to find a good spot for a picture but it was impossible to get away from traffic. I was almost crushed by a cab driver that felt that I would just HAVE to lose the merge despite 75% of my bike being out front of his bumper. As he came over at me I looked at him and he just stared at me as he continued to push me into the next lane. Luckily, the next lane had enough space to accept me. If I'd been wearing my MX boots, he'd need to replace his headlight.

Another bridge. I think I took the Queensboro after unsuccessfully negotiating cross-park traffic. Twice.

I stopped at my younger sister Nicole's job to surprise her. She knew I was in the area, but didn't think she'd see me until later tonight at dinner.

The Islanders practice arena

I got lucky and the local F.D. still had the doors open for this pic. Kenny, my step father, is a volunteer here and is a career fireman with the city of New York.

I don't think I ever realized how twisty the roads near mom were until I started riding a few years ago.

Cassidy, the Westie

Oliver, the Old English Sheep Dog (after a recent shave)

Out to dinner we go. Italian food in NY is about as good as it gets without needing a passport

Of course you have to deal with characters like this showing up while you eat

The Mommy

My sister Nicole and I

Mom stayed home and Melinda rove out from NJ to meet Nicole, our sister in law Kat, and me for Nelson Ladies Night at Dave & Busters. Emma, the newest Nelson gal, joined us in her stroller.

Nicole

Kat (quick on the smile even with candids)

Cool ceiling fans, all belt driven and working off the same motor

Some hoops

And trivia

And diaper changes

We were all exhausted and needing to be at my mother's for a BBQ the next day so we said out goodbyes and retired for the night.

New Jersey, New York
114 miles

Day 7
May 2nd

Still in New Jersey staying with my sister, her husband, and their two boys.

"I'm with the band!"

"I has a foot"

Easy fries with lunch

Which, as it turns out, are not so easy

We ran some errands around town for most of the afternoon. It was drizzling, so Noah got to use his new Crayola umbrella.

Ice Cream!

Then over to the book store, where apparently it's more fun to sit on the bookshelves than it is to look at the books themselves.

Day 6
May 1

My riding boots will collect dust for a few days as I step into a pair of sneakers and enjoy some down time with my family.

Cereal and fruit for breakfast. Noah's choice - a combination of Rice Krispies, Kix, and Special K.

He wanted to know how I got here from Texas on my "bicycle", so he commandeered my GPS to figure out the mystery.

His brother Ethan wasn't quite bright-eyed yet this morning.

After breakfast, we had some play time before getting ready to go out and enjoy the day.

"I'm gonna play my rock star guitar!"

Spank made a new friend that was also a guitar player.

Goofin' with my gear

We got everyone dressed (not a simple task) and loaded up the mini van.

We headed for Easton, PA - home of Crayola, known to my nephew as the "color factory". I don't know if it was my sister's driving or the fact that I hadn't been in a car for over a week, but I got very nauseous on the way there. We opted for lunch before heading into the hands-on museum and factory.

Also located in the building is a museum dedicated to canals. Noah and Ethan loved playing in the water, learning how the locks work to get the ships across.

To prevent additional car sickness, I drove us all home, but just in case I didn't know where I was going my sister had the GPS up on the dash.

GPS: Turn left in point five miles
Noah: Becca, you gotta turn left to go to our house. Mommy, which way is left?
Melinda: Left is when your hand makes the L. Right is the one you write with.
Noah: (hands in the air making L shapes) Becca that way is left. We gotta go that way.
GPS: Turn left in four hundred feet
Noah: It says go left Becca. Mommy, Becca doesn't know where our house is.
Melinda: Becca will be fine honey.
Noah: But it says go left.

This continued for a while until I figured out how and why my sister can drown out the sound of her own children when appropriate. We turned on the Sirius kids channel and had some grown-up conversation.

Day 5
Wednesday April 30

The original plan had me landing in New Jersey at my sister's place for the night, but that was many miles an states away from Durham, NC. I have to stick to interstates if I'm going to make it there before my nephews' bedtime.

Spank, you ready to hold on tight? This is going to be a high speed day!

Headed north up 85 and got my Virginia welcome sign on a cool, shaded shoulder.

Stopped just shy of Richmond for a quick lunch and refueling.

Made it to DC by early afternoon.

I decided that if I was this close to national monuments, I might as well take the time to stop and get some proper pictures with my bike.

After struggling with tourists on foot, in cars, and in caravans of busses I hit the highway to head north again. DC doesn't feel the need to put up signs, so I guess nobody is welcome here.

Now I had to fight my way towards Baltimore with mass commuters trying to make it home for the night.

I'd made it into Maryland but without a Welcome sign letting me know when it happened.

Bridges

And tunnels

And bridges

And then there was Delaware. Tiny state, big sign.

Then more bridges.

Welcome to New Jersey!

It was the homestretch. I was in the state, all I needed to do was make it north to Hackettstown before it was pitch black.

I was losing the race with the sun.

Off the interstate and northbound on 206, all I wanted was a hug when I arrived.

I got more than a hug. I got to read him not one, but TWO bedtime stories!

North Carolina, Virginia, DC, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey
516 miles

Day 4
Tuesday April 29

I left my mark on the carpet in the room. Oops. Nobody said the Strom was light.

Packing the bike back up is getting just a little quicker and easier. Or maybe I've just learned to not unpack as much overnight so there's less to do in the a.m.

First thing's first - head south to "tag" South Carolina, then motor my way northeast.

The plan is to get a good push on mileage so I'll have an easier day getting up to New Jersey to see my family. As much as I'm enjoying the solitude of the trip, I'm social by nature and the casual conversations with strangers while on the road just aren't cutting it for me.

I've not wrapped my arms around my sister for a hug in nearly a year. I'm overdue.

It was chilly, but the miles went by quickly out on the interstate.

At the state line, there was a truck loaded with cement blocks parked next to the sign. Maybe the driver was a wanted man in SC and afraid to enter? I don't really care what his reasoning was - it made for a sucky picture.

So I headed up towards the Blue Ridge Parkway. After reporting how enjoyable the Natchez Trace was, RocketBunny advised I'd enjoy the BRP.

I made it 10 or 15 miles in when orange signs blared the announcement that the Parkway was closed up ahead. I followed the detour signs down to I40 - "Parkway North Detour Exit 86".

I just got on at exit 55. This is one heck of a detour.

Um... did Robin need help finding it?

A few exits from my intermediate goal, I decided the restrooms at the Chamber of Commerce were calling me.

I stopped in, bought some post cards and a map of the Parkway for $1, and learned some local knowledge about the BRP around these parts. The woman at the desk advised I head up Route 80 as an alternate to the scheduled detour, then backtrack south to Mount Mitchell to see the highest point east of the Mississippi River.

As I made my way up 80, I realized this was going to be as twisty as the Dragon, or at least a close second. What had I gotten myself into? There wasn't even a sticker to be earned for this one!

I wasn't going to be able to take pictures along the way, and I needed proof that I tackled this one - so I rigged the camera on my left mirror stalk using my mini tripod and set it to take video. (I don't have video editing software with me, so that will have to wait until I get back home.)

It was nerve wracking. I did most of it in first and second gear, and there were two switchbacks that really had me regretting the decision to head up the side of a mountain. Making it even worse were the locals that would come flying at me using almost half of my lane.

Once atop the Parkway, I headed south but it wasn't long before the beautiful scenery was overshadowed by the sheer drop-offs, lack of guard rails, and overall altitude intensity.

Acrophobia sucks. It turns what should be a beautiful ride on a curvy road into a terrorizing event that seems to go on forever.

The more miles I'd backtracked, the closer I was to the goal of Mt. Mitchell. I couldn't turn back now - I had to do it. I had to prove to myself that I could. This was NOT going to be another "Coronado Trail incident".

The overlook area was large and flat enough for me to safely park the bike and decide my next move.

We were so high up, there was still snow on the ground within the shade of the pine trees. Not one to pass up an opportunity, Spank tried to make a snowman. There wasn't enough, so he made do with a snowball.

What you can't see here is that Spank is giving the construction sign the finger.

We decided that we were cold and hungry, but there was no telling how much longer it would be before we'd reach anything resembling a town. Out came the Jetboil and some camp food for a mountain-top picnic.

We decided to head back, but the cold was overpowering my ability to stay relaxed through the curves and elevation. I needed to head back down off the ridge, but there was no way I'd take 80 again. Instead, I opted for the scheduled detour back down to Marion.

Which was just as bad as the ride up! 10 and 15 mph switchbacks, warning signs for trucks and RVs, and lots of blind turns. After a while I got tired of holding the clutch in, so I put it in neutral and coasted down feathering the brakes.

The interstate was boring, but I was just glad to be back on (mentally) solid footing. I'd made a full circle out of the BRP 'event' and lost a half day or mileage.

I motored east, heading for Greensboro.

My shadow got longer...

I was glad the setting sun was behind me and not straight in my eyes.

As I neared my intended destination, I was just getting my second wind. I needed to make up for the mileage I'd lost earlier so I pressed on for Durham, NC.

I made it there but got mixed up finding the hotel I'd selected - I hadn't loaded this section of the state into my GPS because I had no idea I'd be traveling this far east on the trip. I saw the glowing green and white calling me from a Starbucks sign and headed there to grab a cup o' joe and get my bearings.

I ended up at the Howard Johnsons, a very clean and friendly place just minutes from the Duke campus.

North & South Carolina
375 miles

Day 3
Monday, April 28

Waking up and figuring out if the clock is reading CST or EST is confusing. Either way, I'm running late getting a jump on the day. I load the bike and hit the wet roads, although the rain was all but done falling from the sky.

The clouds loomed overhead for most of the morning. I was nervous about heading towards Deals Gap - US 129, known to riders everywhere as the Tail of the Dragon. 318 curves in 11 miles that makes motorcycling hearts go pitter patter at the thought of scrubbing tires through each winding twist and turn. For me, it's a nervous anticipation, and with the threat of wet pavement I wasn't "feeling it".

I was also cold, and cold = tense. I stopped to add a layer of clothes, opting to include my ducky pajamas and my TWT tee.

The sky was getting brighter, but the clouds stuck around.

After a late breakfast/early lunch break, the sun started to work its way out to dry the roads an restore my spirit.

The first few miles before the Tail started wandered around the water and gave scenic views of the surrounding hills.

We'll have to wait and see what ZeeFoto and Killboy got of me out there, since my hands were NOT coming off the bars for pictures on the Dragon. I tried second gear for the twists but felt like the bike was lugging up, down, and around the turns. I dropped down to first and stayed there for most of the ride, which made input on the throttle jerky at best.

I managed to pull off for the North Carolina state line sign:

And turned around to get the Tennessee sign since I'd missed it the day before.

Once safely at the Crossroads of Time, I picked out a few souvenirs and scoped out the riders hanging out at the cafe.

I got my dragon sticker! I certainly earned it.

Heading out. One dragon slayed, a thousand miles left to tackle (give or take)

US 28 was still twisty, but not nearly as much as the previous 11 miles had been. I started to relax, and the curves started getting smoother and I was able to flow from one to the next.

Lots of riders out on the road, but not in overwhelming numbers.

By early afternoon, Mother Nature had provided an amazing backdrop.

Fontana Dam and recreation area

One of the locks at the dam

More twists and turns. Lots of pics from the saddle.

The sun and the trees made mosaics that lay before me

Towns, fields, farms, and barns. It's what this country is made of.

Once out on the highway, I thought I would be bored with straight, flat, traffic-filled main lanes - but I was pleeasantly surprised by the winding ribbon of pavement that presented itself. I'd stumbled onto the Great Smoky Mountain Expressway. This is what I call a road!

I finally made my way towards Fletcher, just south of Asheville. I was near the airport but tucked away on a back road. I had to get a smoking room in order to get a first floor with outside access.

After seeing folks of all shapes and sizes come and go while I unpacked the bike, I decided I wasn't all that sure about the safety and security of my beloved Strom.

I did the only thing I could think to ensure his safety.

Yup, I popped the panniers off and powered it up over the curb and straight into the room. It was a close fit at the bard, but a little wiggle got it in without having to remove the bar ends.

I walked over to the Mexican restaurant for dinner to go. It was the only thing within walking distance, but the desolation inside the restaurant wasn't saying much for their popularity.

The food was good though. I was surprised to find decent Tex Mex this far from the Rio Grande.

I tried to settle in and get caught up on the ride report, but the internet access wasn't cooperating and I couldn't manage to get pictures uploaded. Oh well, it can wait.

Tennessee, North Carolina
219 miles

Day 2: Sunday 4/27

I woke up and panicked that I'd overslept and missed the early start I so desperately needed, only to find out it wasn't even 4am yet. I put myself back to sleep, but had a repeat performance at 6. As much as I tried, I couldn't get back to sleep again so I started to (slowly) get my things together and get ready for the day.

I'm so used to sharing hotel rooms when I'm on a ride, I had rebelled by sprawling my things across the room. This solo thing is pretty cool! Nobody to have the "what time do you want to wake up/eat breakfast/get on the road" debate with. Nobody but me would get to make any decisions on this trip.

Well, except Mother Nature. She seems to make her own decisions and there's nothing anybody can do to stop her. She'd decided I would be getting wet today.

Much to my surprise though, the sun was trying to peek out from behind the clouds while I packed the bike. Spank was pleased.

We stayed up there on the second floor. The woman at the desk, a cruiser rider, said the bike would be fine and she'd watch it overnight. I wasn't worried about the bike as much as I was worried about my back - having to carry the pannier up and down the stairs was a chore.

I headed up Hwy 25 and it was a boring, wide, empty four lane snooze fest.

I could see the clouds looming, but I resisted pulling off the road to don the rain gear as long as I could. By the time I was doing the roadside dance, it was coming down pretty hard. Away went