tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-242729882024-03-13T10:30:03.496-05:00My Own RamblingsA good long ride can clear your mind,
restore your faith,
and use up a lot of fuel.Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.comBlogger145125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-85431673897665550722008-11-22T12:36:00.000-06:002008-11-29T00:40:25.589-06:00Novembr PieRun: Edom, TXWell, it was certainly a long day. After only five hours of sleep, I was up and getting ready to head out pre-dawn with Scott (M38A1) in the chilly 40-something air. We slabbed it up to Huntsville and made it to Tourmeister's place right on time. <br /><br />From there, we headed up to Edom through various FM roads, all the while waiting for the sun to come out from behind the clouds and begin to warm the air. <br /><br />Scott<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423443951_VPtp5-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Deb<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423443864_zHnMC-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Some of the bikes lined up at The Shed<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423444139_6V5J2-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The food was great, and the staff did a great job of keeping everything moving. I had the baked chicken, mush potatoes, and baked beans with a bottomless cup of coffee. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423444317_ox4L7-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Sarah<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423444409_8uhVQ-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Chuck tried fitting her into his topcase... <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423444501_nHZBD-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />On the way back, we came to a small county road and I was sure Tourmeister was leading us towards an unpaved section. Thankfully (since I was on the FZ1) it remained paved - although badly potholed, rutted, and bumpy in sections. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423444625_ZvCbX-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We made a quick stop at the Bradford Cafe and found that they do lunch, homemade desserts to order, and can seat 90. Future pie run? I suppose someone will have to "take one for the team" and head there for lunch one day to sample the menu. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423444784_6V32M-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Near Madisonville, I hopped on I45 and zoomed towards Houston. The darker the sky became, the worse the traffic flowed. I aimed the GPS for the Toyota Center and got there with just 25 minutes to get into the parking garage, change into jeans, and head into the arena to watch the Aeros game. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423452135_DKNH4-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/423452076_wmvJv-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Barely able to keep my eyes open, Jamey offered to ride the bike back after the game and I went back in the truck with the kids and some friends. By the time I got home, it was probably less than a half hour before I was in la la land.Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-40482193611785419142008-09-27T12:40:00.000-05:002008-11-29T00:44:23.285-06:00October Pie Run: Blessing, TXWe met J and Lilia at the Starbucks for the ride down <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/382043139_r4AnL-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Most of it looked like this. Not too interesting as far as riding goes, but it kept us off the main lanes most of the way down and provided for a quiet ride. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/382044661_T6D5S-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />For Lilia's first long ride, she seemed to really enjoy herself! <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/382048475_xyZwu-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The food was good, although the choices somewhat limited. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/382049332_WUdet-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />After lunch my camera battery went dead, so I went out to the bike and swapped out to my spare - which was [I]also[/I] dead :doh: so that's the end of my pics. <br /><br />I got a ride on Grover's Tiger before we departed, and when he, Michelle, and Chris (dirtrideroader) and Mike (mikeylikesit) joined us for the ride home I got the green light to trade off for an even longer, curvier test ride. <br /><br />The Tiger is now on my short list for potential next bike.Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-90995026686929749112008-08-30T12:45:00.002-05:002008-11-29T00:48:05.282-06:00August Pie Run: Marble Fals, TXOk, so it took a while...<br /><br />Our group met up in Navasota<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678303_BMxTw-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678432_R2SAC-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678566_jLGWF-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678681_u6uVe-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Then hit the road for pie... <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678992_WDJSu-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678653_wxSKw-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678865_Qh3pt-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678721_BK7kG-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678336_UPq3G-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678363_ZMQRy-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678495_Wo63d-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678594_kNpaa-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678621_MtLV5-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Then I took a picture of Bill's new wife Justin: :lol2: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678397_ZJs8T-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And this horrific lens-shattering picture ended up on my camera somehow :shrug: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/369678525_AePUf-M-1.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-46874303409415297022008-08-16T12:48:00.000-05:002008-11-29T00:50:53.981-06:00Ride-To-Eat: Kedra's RoadhouseI didn't take the camera out much on the road for some reason (even when it was sunny and dry) but I did get a few. <br /><br />Tina and neither of her husbands :lol2: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/353336201_m5ykr-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The other half of our table <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/353336287_FMnTL-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Jack's table <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/353336375_itdSD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/353336454_tAaYC-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Hardy's table<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/353335943_Yfm85-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We met a bunch of folks ducking out of the rain in Ellinger. It was the first covering we could find once the deluge started and lucky for us it had a table and chairs in the back. We got some snacks, watched the radar images on J's phone, and waited. <br /><br />These two were headed back to Austin from Houston and were still in pretty good spirits. ;-) <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/353336003_B2KEN-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br />When the rain let up enough to continue on, we went down a few exits to get J some rain gear at Columbus Cycle Shop. I'd always seen it on the side of I10 but I'd never stopped - they had a pretty good selection and very friendly folks that let us park up on the curb (under the awning) and drip all over their store. <br /><br />By the time he'd bought rain gear and we were ready for the push for home, the sky was starting to clear up a lot more. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/353336069_yaFRH-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Big thanks to Jack for taking the initiative to put these diet-undoing RTEs together, and thanks to Kenny and J for putting up with my routing ideas and, um, guesses... :doh:Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-8768576389506563942008-06-28T12:52:00.002-05:002008-11-29T00:58:23.867-06:00June Pie Run: Hico, TXMy Saturday started off dark just after 6am with Jamey (JAR675) from Stafford. This just isn't natural for me... :yawn: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322522988_vvqUU-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Met the NW Houston group in Navasota at the corner of Hwy 6 and 105. No, not that one - the [I]other[/I] one. :doh: Thanks to Chris (DirtRideRoader) for joining up in Hempstead and knowing where the meet-up was. ;-) <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322523113_U5kHB-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As we headed out up Hwy 6, I took advantage of a slow(ish) 4-lane section to get a rolling roll call: <br /><br />David (Maverick) <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322523220_hozGz-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Corrine (SchooterGal)<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322523366_XXW6W-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />ToroGuy(?) <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322523461_DF3yH-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Tim (Abby) <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322523560_wy8KQ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Greg (Gregwithsomenumbers)<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322523640_jDyVA-O.jpg" border="0" /><br />Deb (Snoopster) <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322523738_nc4wt-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Jamey (JAR675)<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322523860_98Fru-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Chris (DirtRideRoader) and his daughter Erin<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322523981_Ch9Ud-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Incline? What incline? <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322524162_aeWP6-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Mav's bike left its mark on the tarmac... (and unfortunately the tarmac left its mark on his bike) <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322518133_dRGzH-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />"Who me? Oh, I'm just waiting for Maverick. Silly guy, he dropped his bike in the parking lot!"<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322518504_Z5FMa-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And we hit the road again <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322518900_YkmMA-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />A few of the "originals" - Deb and Chuck with their vintage name tags <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322519025_F4oEW-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />A bunch of people were already leaving at 11:30 when our group rolled in, and many more were gone by noon when we got as many as we could to gather for a group picture. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322519215_K9dr6-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We needed to decrease the mileage between stops as the day wore on. It was just too hot to ride the route we'd planned, so from here (some town with an L?) we decided to cut south for Temple. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322519383_7Xake-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />At another shaded rest stop at a Dairy Queen, the asphalt not only wanted to swallow my kickstand, but it wanted the kickstand plate too! :eek2: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322519530_PK75a-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Ten Minute Call... :sun: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322519645_6ZZ6u-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322519819_RS65A-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322519957_ti2do-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Hotel time! The sun was starting to set, bellies were rumbling, and the dogs were barking... <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322520101_D5uCY-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Messican! :eat: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322520250_ybTkV-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We can still see you :-P <br />(There's TWO fingers up, not just one!)<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322520398_J7TxK-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Brian (Nixx) and James (?) from Austin joined us for dinner before splitting off for home. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322520696_dDhLM-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Whitebread (Robbie?) is in the blurry-faced witness protection program. :lol2: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322520816_FRATs-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />But if you sneak a picture when he's NOT being blurrified, he'll give you the evil eye! :giveup: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322520935_rQBBk-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Shower. Sleep. Morning. Pack. Breakfast at IHOP. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322521094_Btbgu-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Jamey departed north on 35 towards Kansas City to start a two week riding/family vacation. :clap: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322521207_4WR8R-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />With a smaller group and more time to play, we stopped more frequently on the ride back.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322521362_2at72-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322521503_EEvJM-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />This was ShooterGal's first ride that exceeded 100 miles! Considering she probably topped 600 miles in 100+ degree weather, she has certainly proven she's gotten over her "should I just give up" thinking. :cool2: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322521658_WGEjd-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We split off in Navasota and went back from whence we came. <br /><br />The gals: <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322521946_BX6qx-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The gents: <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322522151_LjP8h-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />"Hey, what's that noise? It sounds like my bi..." <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322522270_e7TX3-S.jpg" border="0" /><br />"What the?"<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322522401_uNeUX-S.jpg" border="0" /><br />"Where's he going with my bike?"<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322522553_iEveR-S.jpg" border="0" /><br />SQUID! :phead: <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322522729_mxhLq-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Sayonara! Until next time... :bigokay: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/322522888_6gihC-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-81343416124170640982008-05-11T02:52:00.001-05:002008-06-21T02:56:22.362-05:00Day 16<br />May 11 - heading home<br /><br />I woke up refreshed and as I packed the bike for the last time on this journey, it was apparent that I’d burned up oil somewhere along the way. I hadn’t been checking it because I was not too far over my oil change interval and the Strom hadn’t been known for burning oil before. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741448_gkoWd-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I topped it off with almost a half quart. Good thing Jamey met me up here, he’s the one who noticed it. He’s also the one who was able to get the bike up on the center stand while loaded, something I still struggle with. <br /><br />Much better. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741474_ejQrV-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I ate breakfast - my decadent chocolate pie that I’d saved from dinner the night before. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741501_sx7ZJ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Then Jamey went to check us out of the room and return the key. This was the only hotel I’d stayed in that had a real key instead of those plastic programmable cards. It felt good to hold a hotel key in my hand for some reason. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741548_WjxAL-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As we headed out, the plan was to head across to Oklahoma on the Talimena Scenic Drive, then head south across the Red River into Texas. Although he’d joined me for the last leg home, Jamey insisted he was just escorting me home and that I shouldn’t change anything about how I’d ride or handle stops along the way just for him. He’d be my shadow. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741601_2Q72w-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Well, my shadow didn’t plan for the weather and despite the bright shining sun it was chilly. I was doing ok with my jacket liner and rain pants, so I offered him my thermals so he could add a layer. <br /><br />I stopped at the border<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741632_rqh3k-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And he stopped up ahead at a turn-off, so I did what any good friend would - took pictures of him half dressed on the side of the road. : P <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741681_noA9b-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The elevation on the Talimena isn’t as bothersome as other areas, since there are more rolling hills than cliffs and jagged rocks-of-death to contend with. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741705_TBm29-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We made it to town just in time to fill up on gas and grab some (real) breakfast. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741727_EpT95-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I really couldn’t have asked for better weather to carry me home. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741759_KM5NW-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />That - over there - is that what I think it is? <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741783_Vce9C-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Yup, I was crossing over the Red River and had arrived in Texas! <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/316909086_AU8tg-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Spank was glad to see some familiar signs too <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741926_8Zvn4-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And Jamey was just glad we’d finally pulled over! <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741897_Vm5ik-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We made our way down to Lone Star for lunch (kinda fitting, don’t ya think?) <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294741980_UykEc-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It was Mother’s Day, but we’d missed the hectic lunch rush. It also meant we’d missed out on almost everything they were serving on the buffet, so we ordered up a few plates and talked about the rest of the route while we waited for our food. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742013_YULXD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Chopped steak with onions and hush puppies, although I’m told these aren’t “real” hush puppies and I’d have to try them again sometime. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742044_CLFKa-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We were, um, hungry… <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742068_qcCcT-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Once done and back outside, Jamey just BEGGED me to ride my bike, so I agreed. <br />(Ok, so I just really wanted to ride the FZ and I convinced him by BS’ing something about how varying pressure points would help make his long ride more comfortable) <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742102_9PebR-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I took the reins of ye ‘ol FZ1... <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742128_8WuPD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As we mosey’d on down the road I spotted a sign for a town I wanted to check out. It made a good stop to trade bikes back, as I wanted to be with mine in the picture(s). <br /><br />Beckville, Texas. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742159_S53C8-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Most of my family calls me Bec, so it made me smile to know they’d get a kick out of my find. <br /><br />The first sign that had the “H” word on it since I‘d left two weeks prior: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742265_u7LZf-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Longer shadows<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742313_8N7cM-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Strangers falling in line behind bikes they see going their way <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742341_dBQDB-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The setting sun. I would lose the race against daylight for the last time. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742368_b6amR-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Downtown Houston. Blurry, but visible. No time for stopping, I could take pictures of this any day. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742402_krWvF-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Minute Maid Park, aka “Orange Juice Field” - home of the Astros. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742418_LaX25-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And the last traffic light before my house. Yup, I got caught at a red. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742452_m8hPT-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />“Arriving at home” appeared on the GPS as I pulled under the carport. It was bittersweet - I wanted to be out on the road still. Making my way across states, traversing miles and miles of scenery, pavement, and memories - but at the same time, I longed to be home. In my comfort zone. Sleeping in my own bed. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742483_fJzoD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I turned the key and returned to reality. It was over. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742509_2bFYE-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas<br />468 miles and one great shadow of a riding partner<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294742385_4dvP6-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/299467064_T4LVQ-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-73321139600720906702008-05-10T20:22:00.002-05:002008-05-30T01:19:02.905-05:00Day 15 <br />May 10th<br /> <br />I woke up to a dismal sky filled with fog and mist, but was surrounded by like-minded adventurers. Since I had a level, safe area to work I popped the side cases off and got the bike up on the center stand so I could adjust the chain again. I busted a knuckle open loosening up a bolt, but otherwise it was uneventful. Passers by stopped to chat and Traci attempted a dead-lift with one of my ammo cases. "Yup, they're heavy." LOL <br /> <br />I walked down the hill towards the restaurant/bakery for breakfast and met up with a wide-eyed version of the group I'd mingled with the night before. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735386_BD99X-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735386_BD99X-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735333_StSMs-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735333_StSMs-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />I think this cinnamon roll fed six of us. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735311_k4fdE-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735311_k4fdE-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />I ordered my eggs scrambled, but it took almost an hour for a plate to appear before me so I just ate what was on it. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735360_2Ji4D-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735360_2Ji4D-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />On my way back to the bike to gear up, I caught this man staring at the tail end of a paper-plated KLR. He says he just got it, and his father got the matching one parked beside it. He was still in the "admiring my new bike" phase and I don't blame him one bit. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735413_gFpga-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735413_gFpga-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />After a quick chit chat over a map, Scoon, Ian, and I had a plan for me to follow some twisty bits into Arkansas to meet up with Jamey (jar675) in Mena for dinner and the final leg of the trip home the next day. Most everyone rolled out of camp before I did, so the goodbyes were minimal. <br /> <br />I followed Hwy 5 down into a state I'd ridden in before - Arkansas. Without much of a shoulder to park on, I tip-toed the bike in a narrow ditch to get the state sign from the saddle. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735437_jhbx8-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735437_jhbx8-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />I didn't feel completely awake, mostly because the sun had no intention of coming out to greet me. The weather report wasn't looking good at all - threats of afternoon tornadoes in the northern half of the state meant I had to keep heading south to avoid them. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735457_i9dJZ-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735457_i9dJZ-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />A scenic vista. Well, not-so-scenic if the fog doesn't let ya see it. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735523_458Vm-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735523_458Vm-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />But it turned out to be a worthwhile stop. As I backed away from the bike for a picture I noticed Spank had come loose and was dangling from a bungee cord. YIKES! After all this poor monkey has been through, having him jump ship on the road would almost certainly cause my friends to disown me! <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735509_knHkL-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735509_knHkL-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />Snuggled up tight, Spank and I continued on our way - until the fog rolled in, the rain poured down, and the wind picked up. I ducked under the awning of a closed shop to clear my visor and see if it would calm down at all. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735543_b6B2m-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735543_b6B2m-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />The wind would gust and swirl, but it wasn't constant and I managed to creep my way south at 50-75% of the posted speed limit. I was just as afraid of someone speeding through the thick fog and slamming into the back of me as I was crashing into something ahead because of poor visibility and loss of traction. Anytime I heard an approaching vehicle or saw the glimmer of lights in my mirrors I'd flash my brake lights until I was certain they saw me. I pulled to the right and waved most of the traffic around me, but one car hovered a few lengths back and "kept watch" over me for a while. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735561_TuiTU-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735561_TuiTU-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />This is NOT my idea of fun. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735583_Mp6Qh-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735583_Mp6Qh-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />I was so nervous, my arms and shoulders couldn't relax the death grip I had on the handlebars. I pulled off for a potty break as soon as I saw the shoulder open up enough to park safely. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735624_zykKW-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735624_zykKW-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />To top off a perfectly terrible mood, my GPS decided it didn't want to abort the route we'd programmed and just take me straight to Mena. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735673_d7fQJ-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735673_d7fQJ-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />Ok, I'll do it myself then. There are people who tell me I should try to rely less on the GPS and just ride where I feel like going. I turned off the routing feature and continued south on 7 through Jasper, opting to head west then south towards Clarksville on 21 instead of 16 or 123, the "Pig Trail". Even on a bright, sunny day I would have been terrified on the mountainous curves that run through this region - today was testing the limits of my patience.<br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735653_mmP86-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735653_mmP86-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />I was glad to be riding solo so that my speed (or lack of) wasn't getting in the way and I could stop as often as I wanted to take a break and try to relax. On the flipside, I didn't have anyone to follow through the turns or reassure me that we'd make it down the mountain in one piece. Nobody to sing me the "chicken dance" in my helmet this time around. <br /> <br />Is the glass half empty or half full? <br /> <br />I don't know, but I hadn't realized how empty my belly was until I passed through Ozone and caught a whiff of something cooking. I turned around to see what the speck I'd seen on the side of the road was and decided I'd just found lunch. <br /> <br />The Ozone Burger Barn. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735725_rT7Ne-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735725_rT7Ne-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />I ordered up a bacon patty melt and some fries, then sat down at the picnic table with a map and my GPS. It was still giving me fits, so I started deleting things to see if I'd just over-filled it. Sure enough, it started to play nice again. Whew! <br /> <br />Yummmmmm! The burger barn gets four out of five stars - they lost one because the guy at the window put my food on the ledge when it was done without even alerting me. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735749_UnyK8-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735749_UnyK8-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />While I was there, a hi-viz-yellow-wearing VStrom rider went by with a wave. I was certain it was one of the SLAP boys that had wandered out this way, but when the bike came back I met Moriyama out on his own cross-country adventure. <br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735800_5TxjN-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735800_5TxjN-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />We sat and chatted for a bit while I finished my fries and he chomped away at his burger. I used my back-up maps to formulate a plan, and decided that the quickest route south to the interstate would help me get down out of the elevation and, hopefully, the fog. <br /> <br />Not five minutes down the road from lunch, small bits began to hit my head and hands. I couldn't believe that it could be hail, so I slowed and held my hand out to catch some - and sure enough, they were the size of green peas. They came down harder, and felt like golf balls smacking helmet. I've never ridden in hail, so I took the already slow pace down another notch to avoid sliding on the ice marbles laid out before me. <br /> <br />The camera was the last thing on my mind. I had actually started to worry that I'd pushed myself too far and thought I might need to find somewhere to pull off and call it a day - but I'd shipped my camping gear home and needed a hotel. <br /> <br />Slowly but surely, I inched my way down the mountain and onto the highway. I stopped in Clarkesville for gas and to charge my GPS which was now low on battery power. I can't charge it while its in the "powered but non functioning RAM cradle" so I spent a little extra time looking over a map and making a few phone calls. As I began to gear back up, the clerk came out and asked if I was Rebecca. "Uh, yeah... why?" <br /> <br />I'd dropped my wallet in the restroom and she found it when she went in there to mop the floor. Wow, that could have been a crisis! <br /> <br />I motored on south on 71 towards Mena, and stopped in Boles to check in with Jamey and find out what hotel I'd be looking for. I had a text messsage, "Call me ASAP".<br /> <br />The first thing out of my mouth was "are you ok?" He was riding up from Houston and I was worried he'd hit bad weather or something had gone wrong. <br /> <br />"I'm fine. You need to get here fast. First hotel you see when you get to town, Sun Country Inn. It's on the left."<br /> <br />I can't rush. I knew he was anxious to see me but changing my pace isn't going to... "The weather is headed right for you, and it's bad. Just get here." <br /> <br />"I'm on my way." The phone was tucked away, and for the first time since my mad rush through New Jersey I was in a hurry. Within a few minutes, the sky got dark and the wind picked back up and was gusting, pushing me over the yellow line a few times. There were no other cars out here with me, so I stopped fighting it and let the bike wander a bit. <br /> <br />Then the rain started, and it went from droplets to buckets within seconds. I could feel the temperature change a few degrees, but my liners were in and other than my hands I was staying dry. I had to slow my pace. Hurried riding in conditions like this can only lead to mistakes. <br /> <br />I made it to Mena and quickly found the hotel. Jamey's bike was up on the sidewalk and mine joined it after a quick hop up the curb. As my helmet came off, I got a hug that made the last day of misery worth it. <br /> <br />Most of the local TV channels were being interrupted by severe weather alerts. As much as I'd ridden through, it seems I may have missed the worst of it. Tornadoes has touched down in a few places, and damage reports were still rolling in. <br /><br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735827_mQ2A-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735827_mQ2A-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />I rid myself of all the layers of clothes and took a long, hot shower. Jamey kept his eye on the weather and by the time I was done and dressed, it was drying up. We decided to head into town for dinner 2-up on my Strom.<br /> <br />The view from the back of my bike:<br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735841_L8uKv-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735841_L8uKv-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />We circled the town looking for something good, but it was almost deserted. There was a Mexican restaurant and a Dairy Queen, neither of which got our vote. We crossed the railroad tracks and eventually found the Chopping Block Steak House Restaurant. Splurge time! <br /> <br />Sorry, I forgot to take a picture before I ravaged my pepperjack chicken.<br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735904_KSTUi-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735904_KSTUi-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />Jamey and his cheesecake:<br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735922_qqmFY-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735922_qqmFY-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />I ordered a slice of silk pie for dessert, but had it boxed to go when I realized I was overstuffed and couldn't properly enjoy it after the meal. As Jamey rolled the bike backwards and I got ready to hop on, the sign caught my attention...<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735969_GXfYU-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735969_GXfYU-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />"Welcome swingers and open moms"<br /> <br />Uh, what?!?!?<br /> <br />Either they'd run out of sign letters and abbreviated poorly or someone was messing with the sign. Here's the other side:<br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735990_XWTMW-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294735990_XWTMW-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /> <br />I think I talked his ear off with stories of my trip, but Jamey was happy to hear them first-hand and assured me tomorrow's weather wouldn't be nearly as exciting. <br /> <br />Missouri, Oklahoma, Arkansas<br />313 ugly miles<br /><br /><a href="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/299466273_hpd68-O.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px;" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/299466273_hpd68-O.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-85644621727928885862008-05-09T23:49:00.000-05:002008-05-22T01:50:51.042-05:00Day 14<br />May 9th<br /><br />I woke up and prepared for another wet day in the saddle. The jacket liner had been in since day 2, I think. A quick email check and a glance at my ride reports revealed this:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Flashstromer: "Get yer ass to southern MO for SLAP."<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span><br /><br />Good 'ol Gordon. I met his sorry Strom-ridin self in Big Bend during Ride the Rio a few months back, so he and I exchanged quick PMs and a phone call to aim me in the direction of the (now annual) ADV rally in Dawt Mill, MO. <br /><br />I prepped the bike by wiping the lights, blinkers, and mirrors to remove the grime from the previous day. I gave the chain a good dousing of lubricant. It's filthy, but a quick inspection showed no kinks and the tension was still within acceptable limits. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730767_A6i9R-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730717_U2ydG-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Someone had asked how I was carrying the SPoT tracker to maintain a view of the sky. It's stored in the small zippered pocket in the bag on my pannier. The bag isn't waterproof, but the SPoT is water resistant and within easy reach for OK check-ins at stops but out of sight when I'm away from the bike. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730743_5fpFD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I headed over another bridged state line, but stopped for a pic from the other side. This was the Ohio river, which I'd crossed yesterday as well. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730788_KYNfw-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And the interstate. Again. They're a means to an end. At least out here, there's greenery and elevation to keep from getting too bored. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730813_htkow-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Crossing Illinois, I ignored the GPS's desire to cut south and instead headed farther west on I64 towards Evansville. My stomach was growling and telling me to pull over, but a billboard for an Amish buffet had caught my eye. I'd hold out another 25 miles for it instead of defaulting to fast food again.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730831_nWDUW-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The food was delicious. It had a very family-friendly feel to it, despite being a rather large store and commercial restaurant. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730853_Av2cn-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />With my full belly loaded back on the bike, I headed out and saw this:<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730883_sjmad-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Odd as I am, I took this opportunity to lick the inside of my helmet because it was funny. <br /><br />Only after doing so did I recall the sneezing fit I'd had inside my helmet the day before. <br /><br />EEEEW! <br /><br />Another photogenic bridge:<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730942_Ct6TK-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />With a state line on it:<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730968_8n8Vp-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The bigger/beautiful sign was out of reach within construction on the other side of the crossing. It seems most of the midwest is being repaved this month. Yay. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294730999_MmaFU-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />There was more sun calling to me up ahead:<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731024_rgaMz-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And clouds and wet weather hanging out to the rear:<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731046_vCHd3-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As I left the interstate, the twisty roads of Missouri showed themselves.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731097_nL4iY-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />In addition to being wonderful for riding, they are miserable for finding a safe spot to pull over to snap a picture or take a "break" without parking in the roadway. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731137_pDamw-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I found a driveway that, while gravel, was suitable for a quick park-n-pic. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731156_SVVFA-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It was another race against the sun. I needed to make it to Dawt Mill before dark.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731212_4vgrC-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I got there just as the overpacked beer-laden delivery car was arriving, so as any good ADVer does, I stood by watching and snapping pictures as the round keg was placed in the square box. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731239_rWr2D-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731255_DXP5y-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Now that there's some ADV engineering for ya! <br /><br />Gordon scrounged a spare bed for me to sleep in (thanks a million Ian & Jasmine!) and then introduced me to the natives. <br /><br />Well, to one Native and a bunch of other guys n gals. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731274_qHVn5-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Man get wood.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731292_cuV7q-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Man make fire. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731347_UVSTE-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Fire pretty and warm. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731363_YH29b-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Drunk coyote lays on box<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731389_NnCxm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Not a good place to sleep. Beer is in box. Drunk coyote is moved. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731411_DPQ5Z-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Tinks smiles pretty. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/294731429_rQvWV-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Before I secured a bed, she was kind enough to offer up space in her tent with her and her hubby. She's awesome and I'm glad I finally got to meet her, Bonnie, KCD, and all the other fine folk out there at SLAP. Any long trip that can incorporate a rally on-the-fly is a good one. <br /><br />Kentucky, Illinois, Indiana, Missouri<br />487 miles<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/299466099_zXqV2-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-70712121548502161832008-05-08T12:13:00.001-05:002008-05-17T00:57:03.104-05:00Ok, so where was I… <br /><br />Oh yeah. Day 13 <br />May 8th <br /><br />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. <br /><br />“Where ya goin? Can I come too?” <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252015_oZzdU-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The Strom packed and warming up, I said goodbye to Dennis’ Harley <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252033_AoKwy-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252057_Goi2q-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252093_wow6v-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Sunshine? <br /><br />Must be an old sign. <br /><br />Reese’s 1830 Mercantile at the corner of PA 18 and PA 30. If you blink, you could miss it. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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! <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252071_uF4Rq-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />After the relaxing break, I headed out towards the thin sliver of West Virginia that must be crossed to get from PA to OH. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252110_BuZ6m-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Rain and construction. I hate the combination. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252129_rSaRm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I decided to pull into a rest area to add my thermals to the multiple layers of clothes I had on. <br /><br />The Eisenhower Highway. Interesting. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252156_6yxsm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />License plate - check<br />Monkey - check <br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252183_zf7KX-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252199_FenhP-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />A few miles shy of Cincinnati: <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. </span><br /><br />After the rain settled down, I headed back out and made my way into Indiana. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252217_XHWDY-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The dark clouds remained behind me the rest of the day.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252232_2wRDj-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The mighty Ohio River.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252258_nkGdW-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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”. <br /><br />Rising Sun. There’s a big casino here, but there wasn’t time for gambling on anything but weather and roads. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252292_Lfj75-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252343_AZBCj-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Switzerland County courthouse. I guess there was a large Swiss population that settled here. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252392_PVpbW-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/295735642_FBbLX-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Chasing the sun again, probably squinting age lines into my forehead for an hour or more. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252426_tYzeH-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />But worth it. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252442_Jx6ak-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252460_z5VTh-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I finally crossed over the river and into Kentucky. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252475_npr7X-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252485_QvBar-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252514_oj9ZN-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I made it back to the highway as it got dark. I prefer to be on major roadways after the sun sets. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252536_s24WW-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I got a room east of the city and settled in with a pizza to work on the ride report. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292252560_jBj9f-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />But I, uh, fell asleep with the computer on my lap and gave up. <br /><br />446 miles<br />Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292251923_Ch8K3-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-90021601728454320072008-05-07T08:09:00.000-05:002008-05-16T23:56:02.410-05:00Day 12<br />May 7th<br />My Birthday<br /><br />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<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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? <br /><br />The bike had been parked right outside my hotel patio door throughout the night and was easy to pack up.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292108344_6Taw7-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107242_onM3B-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107271_39tP5-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />After two iced caramel macciatos (sp?) I was ready to roll.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107317_VSAaV-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Westbound<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107352_gnbJq-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I found myself following water again. You can see it in this picture off to the right of the road.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107402_JcUFc-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />Not sure what's up with this FEMA area.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107461_RFgKm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Miles and miles of construction slowing me down.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107493_n6Q5b-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107635_x8Mkv-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107690_HC8Rs-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Hills and valleys<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107780_FYgWt-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Expansive interstates<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107819_Ptcap-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107862_fWBgw-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107900_NXKnm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107943_zRbvm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I've always found that restaurants with "family" in the name are worth stopping for, and this one was no exception.<br /><br />I splurged on a loaded bacon cheeseburger and fries.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292107985_tuEx7-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292108020_Hqwfe-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />If this place were closer to Texas, I'd say we need to have a pie run here! <br /><br />A slice of peanut butter pie and a hot up of coffee were the perfect cap to a great meal.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292108056_ueRmS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Back on the road, the skies grew darker as I made my way across PA. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292108177_HSwKB-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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... <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292108274_yQu9V-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Turns out I still had a half gallon or so to spare. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />Cheyenne said I could share her house as long as I pet her for a while.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292108313_pPACs-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />Oh, how I long for the day I can hit the road and not have to "be" anywhere. <br /><br />New York, Pennsylvania<br />363 miles<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/292251022_d5yz2-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Follow me: http://share.findmespot.com/shared/gogl.jsp?glId=0niqJ8tjMVyEOT91cDaNW9QJxINAVSS9qRebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-66511984022329802962008-05-06T15:15:00.000-05:002008-05-16T23:56:35.322-05:00Day 11<br />May 6th<br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327767_EcoKk-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327188_xrJRm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />"Free pool tonight at the bar within walking distance!" <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327212_z5B4G-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />He couldn't convince me to stay, but I can't blame him for trying. I was very tempted. <br /><br />Down the road I go...<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327227_RXTMQ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327246_SNFKK-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Brattleboro, Vermont. A quaint little town that, according to Keith, has everything you'd want without the sprawl of an urban city. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327284_YA7Fz-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />Hwy 9 was also highly recommended as a scenic alternative to the interstate system. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327311_pHEME-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I concur! <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327334_fw2Ux-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />100-mile lookout. The day was clear enough to see what this great Earth had to offer. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327352_CMPe5-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327372_JSsjQ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327384_27kKb-O.jpg" border="0" /><br />Slowing down through each town that appeared, this caught my eye. <br /><br />MOOOOOSE! <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327415_sWfmw-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And this had me thinking of my sister. (Hey Nicole, what do you have planned for June 7th?) <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327431_3xvpS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Welcome (back) to New York! This time I was entering on land instead of by bridge/tunnel as I had down in the city. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327453_85zTo-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327472_kcDCx-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327491_5Vox6-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327510_krZP2-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327528_9hrWH-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327553_xSYkn-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Game Farm Road. It was shaded by the tree canopy and just what I was looking forward to. <br /><br />Until this. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327573_6tYfU-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327589_LDTQ8-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Glamorous, ain't I? LOL <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327612_xWGyo-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Chasing the sun. I have a feeling I'll be doing this just about every afternoon until I get home. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327630_MLwNU-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327649_mZPwF-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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! <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327683_HKt8r-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />I was in heaven. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327716_fpq2t-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327700_U7sGM-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />The bugs made sure I'd need to pull over to change out my visor anyway. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327745_sfPBL-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Vermont, New York<br />286 wonderfully lazy miles<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291327116_xDP9J-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-72040292982935723502008-05-05T10:22:00.000-05:002008-05-16T23:57:10.288-05:00Day 10<br />May 5th <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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? <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290776335_7mWAw-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773591_w6HYo-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773622_2FVkZ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773644_MZiKN-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773682_AYYoG-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773717_graut-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773752_WAMw8-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773776_thGio-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773825_UWCfG-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773873_La2q6-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773911_xc8Jt-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773950_jcnBX-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290773974_2mi85-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />New London, CT<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774032_MQVEq-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Spank says he's got a cough now. I shouldn't have left him down there with all the cars and fumes. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774069_gmxsx-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774104_v5Gpm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Before too long I was crossing into Rhode Island. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774138_3He92-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The "Ocean State" - ok, now I gotta pee. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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... <br /><br />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. <br /><br />Hey lady, would you rather I just drop trou behind your store? <br /><br />Onward I go, past Purgatory <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774184_bJVSR-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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? <br /><br />Into New Hampshire I go. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774235_9d5QL-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774276_eTKwd-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774325_3JhyZ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774373_Povza-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774435_VU7Dp-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Did you see that? I bet you didn't. It said State Line - Maine - Vacationland.<br /><br />Here's a close-up:<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291332650_3ki2Z-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I was disappointed. I'd come all this way to get the sign and THAT was it? <br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774479_zLisg-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774522_QW9rY-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774583_2gLFx-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774634_9yYHh-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Both are polarized. Now I couldn't see the GPS screen. DOH! <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774679_o9EMZ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />My shadow grew longer as it followed me west <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774736_GAuAC-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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? <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774766_BzGip-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774845_2efrb-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I found a small bridge traversing the creek/river I'd been following <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774908_tAXzK-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290774989_CEBfv-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290775318_MH4Lr-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It sure is beautiful up here <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290775453_vnq6q-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290775822_hKJJP-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Vermont! I'd crossed over on another bridge, then caught the sign on the other side. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290775911_SV9RE-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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!" <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />I guess they needed someone to beat at darts. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290775986_BvMwF-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I'm glad I could fill that void.<br /><br />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. <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290776122_uweBo-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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! <br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290776219_hLQNf-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Maine<br />406 miles<br />One HUGE milestone, and the turning point towards home again<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/291326894_uTL7E-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-82218418104856516062008-05-04T10:04:00.000-05:002008-05-16T23:57:35.378-05:00Day 9<br />May 4th<br /><br />A slow and sluggish start to the day-after-ladies-night-out. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289869610_rJap4-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />But nothing some bagels and coffee can't cure!<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868335_jAXWQ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868361_4Rc3E-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Kat and my brother Heath brought Emma back over to hang out at Nana's house.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868383_CFKX6-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And Noah went for a ride on Poppy's tractor<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868431_bNGQU-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />But wasn't able to get the key away from Poppy so he could drive by himself<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868513_ZuQkd-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Heath gives Ethan a boost<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868586_jMtSv-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And then Nicole tries to keep up with the conversation<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868644_6jPH2-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />She wasn't behaving so we put her in time out inside the pen<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868774_XmraF-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And she couldn't figure out how to escape!<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868804_YzZtq-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Her boyfriend Matt eventually let her out to end the suffering<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868733_mcmEz-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />"Look! Poppy's making chicken!"<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868918_HWYYp-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868845_XmSqS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />"What? I can't hear you. I have lawnmower ears on."<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868889_Ha6Nz-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Emma and Kat enjoying the shade<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868955_4rBoC-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />While Nicole enjoys the sun<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289868999_dyaM7-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And the rest of the family eats. We're professionals. Don't try this at home.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289869033_LMbny-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />"They say lunch is done but I'm still hungry"<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289869064_PoKw3-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Country bumpkin<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289869233_QNwdP-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Noah learns to ride his bike, which he's been talking about since I got to the house with my motorcycle. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289869209_usHH4-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />"Race Ya!"<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289869332_3RJci-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />An early birthday cake<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289869419_GsqEa-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Noah helps me blow out the candles<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289869448_Canmq-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And Emma said goodnight to Spank before going home<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289869562_g8HV7-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-47915107059253222802008-05-03T09:38:00.000-05:002008-05-16T23:57:56.873-05:00Day 8<br />May 3rd<br /><br />When you leave a camera laying around, it's an open invite for a three year old to start taking pictures.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896807_HPr4n-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896831_BhfE7-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It was foggy up at elevation, but it cleared as I neared Manhattan.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289895689_8mcKY-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />George Washington Bridge. Brian loaned me his EZPass to make the crossings go a little easier.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289895816_omZPZ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289895842_D6Ezi-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Ah, New York City.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289895923_ybrBG-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896084_VGLA3-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Another bridge. I think I took the Queensboro after unsuccessfully negotiating cross-park traffic. Twice. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896113_pMTwQ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896140_qRB8A-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896140_qRB8A-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The Islanders practice arena<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896200_muEe2-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896225_Lpv8H-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I don't think I ever realized how twisty the roads near mom were until I started riding a few years ago.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896257_6oPya-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Cassidy, the Westie<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896278_X4xvf-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Oliver, the Old English Sheep Dog (after a recent shave)<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896302_Hhsnn-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Out to dinner we go. Italian food in NY is about as good as it gets without needing a passport<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896379_iwLGj-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Of course you have to deal with characters like this showing up while you eat<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896315_v7mDn-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The Mommy<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896414_8b4Po-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />My sister Nicole and I<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896342_3tU6f-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896589_hJGQz-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Nicole<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896665_nP3hm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Kat (quick on the smile even with candids)<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896687_MTsqM-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Cool ceiling fans, all belt driven and working off the same motor<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896715_Jdv9S-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Some hoops<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896750_oumQS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And trivia<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896771_3jDiG-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And diaper changes<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289896789_4SFX5-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />New Jersey, New York<br />114 miles<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/290770430_rsvvS-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-87699760853915248232008-05-02T09:07:00.000-05:002008-05-16T23:58:13.602-05:00Day 7<br />May 2nd<br /><br />Still in New Jersey staying with my sister, her husband, and their two boys. <br /><br />"I'm with the band!"<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289737152_mfTz5-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />"I has a foot"<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289736612_DjbL3-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Easy fries with lunch<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289736581_WYVRf-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Which, as it turns out, are not so easy<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289736500_Znp8Z-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We ran some errands around town for most of the afternoon. It was drizzling, so Noah got to use his new Crayola umbrella.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289736775_TA7zB-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Ice Cream! <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289736946_cdPXu-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289736822_cf2oT-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289736860_Zh3w2-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/289737036_7GRQf-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-7048326779655666672008-05-01T22:31:00.000-05:002008-05-16T23:58:53.372-05:00Day 6<br />May 1<br /><br />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. <br /><br />Cereal and fruit for breakfast. Noah's choice - a combination of Rice Krispies, Kix, and Special K. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294553_YZmJU-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294582_BsRXi-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />He wanted to know how I got here from Texas on my "bicycle", so he commandeered my GPS to figure out the mystery. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294547_oSDTA-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />His brother Ethan wasn't quite bright-eyed yet this morning.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294567_7oxB5-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />After breakfast, we had some play time before getting ready to go out and enjoy the day.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294585_tG4xH-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />"I'm gonna play my rock star guitar!"<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294581_H3fxH-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Spank made a new friend that was also a guitar player.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294599_DAw5C-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Goofin' with my gear<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294597_qaLYu-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We got everyone dressed (not a simple task) and loaded up the mini van. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294605_H24Cv-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294649_yahDG-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294620_TMQQt-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294621_5UUWh-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294619_Thn2g-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294634_uri2n-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294673_tCwAx-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294637_yGqpo-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294677_8QVHf-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />GPS: Turn left in point five miles<br />Noah: Becca, you gotta turn left to go to our house. Mommy, which way is left?<br />Melinda: Left is when your hand makes the L. Right is the one you write with.<br />Noah: (hands in the air making L shapes) Becca that way is left. We gotta go that way.<br />GPS: Turn left in four hundred feet<br />Noah: It says go left Becca. Mommy, Becca doesn't know where our house is.<br />Melinda: Becca will be fine honey. <br />Noah: But it says go left.<br /><br />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.Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-88395149178087236382008-04-30T19:16:00.000-05:002008-05-16T23:59:20.532-05:00Day 5<br />Wednesday April 30<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293907_fsErS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Spank, you ready to hold on tight? This is going to be a high speed day!<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293915_bfw7T-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Headed north up 85 and got my Virginia welcome sign on a cool, shaded shoulder.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293926_fhzmZ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Stopped just shy of Richmond for a quick lunch and refueling.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293936_L39bt-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293945_td9YX-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Made it to DC by early afternoon.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293946_B6fkD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293970_h57uq-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293976_kYKhQ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />Now I had to fight my way towards Baltimore with mass commuters trying to make it home for the night. <br /><br />I'd made it into Maryland but without a Welcome sign letting me know when it happened. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293975_Y6qUL-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Bridges<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293991_6WejL-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And tunnels<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293993_tKYDa-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293994_ZEAcC-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And bridges<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294007_djdEV-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And then there was Delaware. Tiny state, big sign.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294013_NoPN3-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Then more bridges.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294023_CxeAR-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294029_6v846-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Welcome to New Jersey! <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294040_uqaUp-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294055_oLs3n-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I was losing the race with the sun. <br /><br />Off the interstate and northbound on 206, all I wanted was a hug when I arrived.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294058_PxjFi-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I got more than a hug. I got to read him not one, but TWO bedtime stories!<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294074_vdZ9M-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288294063_WLxc7-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />North Carolina, Virginia, DC, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey<br />516 miles<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288298979_w4BFf-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-10800905377583381752008-04-29T09:27:00.000-05:002008-05-17T00:03:34.102-05:00Day 4<br />Tuesday April 29<br /><br />I left my mark on the carpet in the room. Oops. Nobody said the Strom was light.<br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293047_pKSFP-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293046_zcTSy-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />First thing's first - head south to "tag" South Carolina, then motor my way northeast. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293042_mEoWs-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />I've not wrapped my arms around my sister for a hug in nearly a year. I'm overdue. <br /><br />It was chilly, but the miles went by quickly out on the interstate. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293080_QHFGm-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293088_Vqxsw-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />So I headed up towards the Blue Ridge Parkway. After reporting how enjoyable the Natchez Trace was, RocketBunny advised I'd enjoy the BRP. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293104_v4HnA-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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".<br /><br />I just got on at exit 55. This is one heck of a detour. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293113_shG4B-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Um... did Robin need help finding it?<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293085_fvXAg-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />A few exits from my intermediate goal, I decided the restrooms at the Chamber of Commerce were calling me. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293116_gUQGP-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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!<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293135_c2oDK-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.)<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />Acrophobia sucks. It turns what should be a beautiful ride on a curvy road into a terrorizing event that seems to go on forever.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293150_tRyH3-S-1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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". <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293137_uriMa-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The overlook area was large and flat enough for me to safely park the bike and decide my next move. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293156_TooGq-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293155_dRUG9-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293175_jrRgb-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />What you can't see here is that Spank is giving the construction sign the finger. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293173_4vFjv-S.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293214_X9524-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293177_k47uU-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293211_fg67p-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293209_wwSmP-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293229_f3cpS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img381.imageshack.us/img381/4599/marionloopzq2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I motored east, heading for Greensboro.<br /><br />My shadow got longer...<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293237_CnWqK-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I was glad the setting sun was behind me and not straight in my eyes.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293254_NKrBK-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288293263_XGnmS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />I ended up at the Howard Johnsons, a very clean and friendly place just minutes from the Duke campus. <br /><br />North & South Carolina<br />375 miles<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288298434_e46ej-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-14098804335230620342008-04-28T00:53:00.000-05:002008-05-17T00:03:58.431-05:00Day 3<br />Monday, April 28<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img100.imageshack.us/img100/9650/p4280002sqj5.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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".<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img291.imageshack.us/img291/3930/p4280009squ3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img91.imageshack.us/img91/9160/p4280012svr8.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The sky was getting brighter, but the clouds stuck around.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img91.imageshack.us/img91/4162/p4280015sww5.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img247.imageshack.us/img247/1333/p4280019spb4.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />After a late breakfast/early lunch break, the sun started to work its way out to dry the roads an restore my spirit. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img149.imageshack.us/img149/4234/p4280027sfg1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The first few miles before the Tail started wandered around the water and gave scenic views of the surrounding hills.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img259.imageshack.us/img259/5558/p4280039sfc3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img120.imageshack.us/img120/1788/p4280047sqd3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />I managed to pull off for the North Carolina state line sign:<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174838_7Jz6w-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And turned around to get the Tennessee sign since I'd missed it the day before.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174853_m5gpr-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Once safely at the Crossroads of Time, I picked out a few souvenirs and scoped out the riders hanging out at the cafe. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174856_JB4qS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174887_NtAn8-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I got my dragon sticker! I certainly earned it. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174884_ma48N-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174912_i2JvD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Heading out. One dragon slayed, a thousand miles left to tackle (give or take)<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174917_Zv3WR-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174922_RDirk-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174944_sxHxC-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Lots of riders out on the road, but not in overwhelming numbers. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174962_UtkqS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />By early afternoon, Mother Nature had provided an amazing backdrop.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174952_kzP7Y-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Fontana Dam and recreation area<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174964_PWcQG-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174972_3xXRu-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174978_jpUKv-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />One of the locks at the dam<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174983_uDdEP-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />More twists and turns. Lots of pics from the saddle. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174994_vQL9T-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The sun and the trees made mosaics that lay before me<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288175000_fw9kN-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Towns, fields, farms, and barns. It's what this country is made of.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288175018_mx799-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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!<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288175020_QERyV-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288175042_rXUaF-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288175040_tvN9w-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />I did the only thing I could think to ensure his safety.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288175062_Nsrcr-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288175061_y6nUG-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The food was good though. I was surprised to find decent Tex Mex this far from the Rio Grande.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174876_FMYw7-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />Tennessee, North Carolina<br />219 miles<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/288174768_wGhQv-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-10548717618441002372008-04-27T23:20:00.000-05:002008-04-29T00:21:34.746-05:00Day 2: Sunday 4/27<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img186.imageshack.us/img186/1562/p4270003sno9.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Much to my surprise though, the sun was trying to peek out from behind the clouds while I packed the bike. Spank was pleased. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img329.imageshack.us/img329/3540/p4270006sor3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img183.imageshack.us/img183/9013/p4270008sok8.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I headed up Hwy 25 and it was a boring, wide, empty four lane snooze fest. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img219.imageshack.us/img219/7945/p4270011sfp2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img501.imageshack.us/img501/6448/p4270012sav3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />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 the camera...<br /><br />Tiny little towns popped up all along the way. Every one of them seems to have a Main Street that once, back in its day, was a bustling meeting place for the locals.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img248.imageshack.us/img248/6275/p4270013szd4.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As quickly as the rain had started, it stopped again. Off with the rain pants, out with the camera.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img169.imageshack.us/img169/7127/p4270020sgf3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img187.imageshack.us/img187/2903/p4270023svt9.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Welcome to Alabama! The sun was shining and there was almost no traffic on the backroads I'd picked. I pulled over and took this picture of Spank.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img166.imageshack.us/img166/2750/p4270034sxe4.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Then he took this one of me.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img166.imageshack.us/img166/9160/p4270036swu2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Stopped for lunch along th way. I prefer to stay away from fast food whenever possible, so finding Micki's Diner was a pleasant surprise. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img219.imageshack.us/img219/3222/p4270042sth9.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, mac n cheese, and cole slaw. A bottomless glass of sweet tea made it the perfect southern lunch. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img236.imageshack.us/img236/4352/p4270039sdc0.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I was mingled with the after-church crow and the locals could tell I wasn't from 'round these parts. A few of them stopped by my table to ask about "that big bike out there", where I was headed, and if I was riding there "all by myself". It sure makes people open their eyes wide when I tell them my eventual goal is to get to Maine. They ask me to repeat myself, as if they didn't hear it right the first time. <br /><br />The GPS was telling me that at the rate I was going, finishing my planned route would put me in Chattanooga after 9. I told it to hush up and just get me there, and it corrected itself to say 5:30. That would get me into the campsite with enough daylight left to set up camp, make dinner, and get some writing done.<br /><br />So I found the slab and made use of my throttle lock.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img253.imageshack.us/img253/2945/p4270051sww3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As boring a highways can be, Mother Nature once again decided to throw life at me. Curveball. I swung and fouled this one off. I saw the rain up ahead and ducked under the overpass to get my rain gear back on before getting drenched. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img206.imageshack.us/img206/5962/p4270052sjy7.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Within minutes it was pouring down again, and the passing trucks (polite as they were to move over a lane) were atomizing the rain as it collected on the roadway and sprayed it up at me beneath my roadway roof. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img253.imageshack.us/img253/9198/p4270054stl0.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I decided I didn't want or need to be on the freeway. Chattanooga wasn't going anywhere, and with the weather potentially soggy I decided I'd once again be sleeping in a hotel bed. I wandered onto 111/US11 which followed the freeway just a few hundred yards to the side but a world apart in sights, sounds, and smells. At a gas station, I met a local officer who rides a Victory cruiser. When asked if 11 would take me to Chattanooga, his reply was, "It'll take you to Canada if you want to go". <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img181.imageshack.us/img181/861/p4270058saz4.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Sorry boys, this one's ladies only!<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img246.imageshack.us/img246/209/p4270061svp7.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Dusk now quickly approaching, I got back on the freeway. Sure enough, the rain came back with it. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img246.imageshack.us/img246/5840/p4270086sfo1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As it started to get darker and the rain was falling more steadily, I realized I'd made the irreversible mistake of lifting my visor to scratch my nose in the rain. Seasoned riders know this is a sin - and one that only the sinner will be punished for.<br /><br />Water ran down the inside of my visor, and although it didn't fog up visibility was hampered. I had been watching the road between droplets and didn't realize how quickly the state border was nearing. As I looked up and saw it from the left-center of four lanes, my heart sank. I need a picture of that sign. I'll have to turn around and go back...<br /><br />But the next exit wasn't for four miles. I took it, went over the freeway, and re-entered the roadway in the opposite direction. I thought it would be funny to post a picture in the ride report of another Alabama sign - but missed that one too, confusing it for the exit sign for a tourist information area. Oh well, I'll just take the next exit and get my picture over on US11. <br />I was crawling along the slow-winding two lane road and motioned to the pickup behind me to pass as I creeped toward the narrow shoulder. He stayed back there, crowding me. I tried waving him past again, but he wouldn't budge. Just then the GA state line passed right by me. UGH! I pulled into the next gravel driveway so I could turn around, and discovered the reason the truck didn't want to pass me was because he was turning into a parking lot a few hundred yards up as well.<br /><br />Back I go. At this point I hate Georgia. This freaking state is doing nothing for me but causing grief. <br /><br />I get to it. I park. I hop off the bike for the picture. <br /><br />The sign sucks. <br /><br />Georgia sucks.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img260.imageshack.us/img260/2356/p4270089shm5.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />They put a second sign a little ways up. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img209.imageshack.us/img209/6503/p4270092sez8.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />"Welcome. We're glad Georgia's on your mind"<br /><br />I gave Georgia a piece of my mind for a few minutes in my helmet as I rode away.<br /><br />I pulled into the nearest gas station to get my bearings, a hot cup of coffee, and a Room Saver - a free brochure full of coupons for travelers. The best part is that they give you a map of each metro area with dots for each hotel that has a coupon. Find a good deal, check out their offerings (wifi, continental breakfast, pool) and then find them on the map. I picked an easy $35/night outside of town and set sail.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img405.imageshack.us/img405/6823/p4270094sle8.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I could have used a sailboat. It came down in buckets. Sheets. Bathtubs full of water. I was on a freeway in the dark with poor visibility, splashing from cars and trucks, grooved pavement, and huge interchanges as I approached, traversed, and escaped the "city" of Chattanooga averaging 38-42 mph. Mind you, the rest of the freeway was still doing 65 or better.<br /><br />I gave the "Welcome to Tennessee" sign the finger as I passed it. <br /><br />I got to the hotel, threw my stuff in the room, and walked next door to the Waffle House for some hot food. Bacon cures everything, right? <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://img177.imageshack.us/img177/7431/p42700021sxv6.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Oh - and it stopped raining just in time for me to walk there, eat, and walk back. Go figure. There was lightning and thunder most of the night but I never bothered to poke my head out the door to see if it was still raining.<br /><br />Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Tennessee<br />432 miles<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/286855151_ptgjv-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And for those o you that haven't seen it, I can be tracked throughout the day here: [url]http://share.findmespot.com/shared/gogl.jsp?glId=0prkGaxNu7TZxuGCWefXtUfZjWkosk1cY[/url]Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-17848845566424318852008-04-26T22:25:00.000-05:002008-04-27T00:26:10.798-05:00Down The Road I Go...As i finished packing last night, thunder and lightning rolled into Houston and rain soaked the area. I was sure the wet weather would be gone by morning, but that was wishful thinking. By the time I rolled out onto the road it was don to a drizzle, and the weather map showed it was dry north of I10. That made the decision between slabbing east on 10 and heading northeast an easy one. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577266_gQfqC-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I skirted the rain for a while, but it caught up with me as I passed into Louisiana. I almost dropped the bike for the picture - the ground was soft and the kickstand started sinking fast. Luckily, I was close enough to the bike that I caught it and got the kickstand plate down under it in time.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577301_gyQdn-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I was reluctant to add a layer of rain gear, since it makes it feel like I'm riding in a sauna. I pulled into a gas station for a snack and decided it was the safest place to do the "rain gear dance", and not three miles down the road the sky opened up and dime-sized raindrops were pelting me. <br /><br />I opted for an easy lunch at Arby's and recalculated a route that might get me closer to Chattanooga than I'd originally routed. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577408_cwcen-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The roads got straighter and more boring, although I was making good time. I decided to stop for some ice cream to load up on sugar. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577454_eqNZw-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Before I knew it, I was crossing a huge bridge and sure enough, it was the mighty Mississippi. Because of the wet weather, the camera was tucked away in the tank bag and I missed the opportunity to get pics from the bridge itself. I pulled over for my sign shot:<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577479_KuEFm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And turned around for a quick shot of the bridge:<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577513_jhJtS-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I was in Natchez, MS and I'd been advised that the Natchez Trace was slow and boring, so I headed for US 61. As it crossed over the trace, I couldn't help but notice how green and lush it was. I turned around and hopped on it for a few miles, telling myself Id get back on 61 after a few miles and a couple of pictures.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577551_64Bgo-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I was amazed at the beauty that was before me. Mile after mile of greenery hung over and around me, and despite the lack of sun it was exactly what I needed to get some thinking time in. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577047_qaymy-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The speed limit was only 50mph, but this seemingly-isolated road had me so calm that I found myself going as slow as 40 at times. There were very few cars on the road, so my speed (or lack of) wasn't bothering anyone. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577072_WGxbG-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I could stop in the roadway and snap pictures at will. I passed multiple chances to get back onto the highway, but found myself compelled to just continue on at the sedate pace I was keeping on the Trace.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577110_MH4vc-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577139_ZM3ZL-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577170_JjU3x-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577202_waNip-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285577226_EfnJJ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I decided to push on past dark, so I stopped in a hotel just east of Jackson, MS. I've got my camping gear loaded on the bike but I'm not intent on pushing safety just for the sake of camping, After this, I would have veered off the main lanes and onto side roads that aren't lit.<br /><br />Here's a link that will (hopefully) let you know where I end up riding tomorrow:<br />http://share.findmespot.com/shared/gogl.jsp?glId=0prkGaxNu7TZxuGCWefXtUfZjWkosk1cY<br /><br />Hopefully the sun will peek out and I'll be able to get some more pictures to share with you. <br /><br />444 miles<br />Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/285608090_BiKDQ-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-18714042261982917512008-04-25T14:49:00.002-05:002008-04-25T14:50:58.814-05:00Counting Down...About 16 hours until I launch. I'm nervous and excited, but not (yet) finished packing. If it weren't for this silly J-O-B getting in the way, I might be ready to leave tonight instead of at sunrise.<br /><br />Will I head east then north? Or northeast? Or something in between? <br /><br />I guess we'll see when I thumb the starter and clip the helmet on in the morning.Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-64178751930190765942008-04-18T15:51:00.002-05:002008-04-18T16:01:07.832-05:00Getting ReadyI'm almost ready, both mentally and physically, for the "BIG" trip. I'm nervous and excited all rolled into one. I've got a few last minute things to buy and do (including changing out my fluids and replacing some leaking clutch parts that *should* be here by Tuesday) before I can finally say I'm packed and ready to go.<br /><br />Taking advice from others that have gone before me, I liked this short list that <a href="http://advrider.com/forums/member.php?u=41330">Flyred</a> on <a href="http://www.advrider.com/forums/">ADVrider.com</a> posted after a 6000 mile trip:<br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">1) Travel light. Use the weight loss section in the trip planning section then take more out of your bag. I mailed home 23lbs of crap that I hadn't used in the first week, and I could have sent a few more lbs later.<br /><br />You dont need cook pots and a camp stove, and a liter of spare fuel. An Esbit cooker, fuel tabs and a Ti coffee cup will do everything needed and take a 10th the space. Eat jerky, dried fruit and nuts, a can of tuna, then in a few days, stop at a good diner and enjoy a good meal. </span><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;"><span style="color:#3333ff;">Jetboil. Check.</span> </span></p><span style="color:#990000;">2) Use the Tent Space list to get a warm floor to sleep on once in a while. Your back will thank you. </span><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;"><span style="color:#3333ff;">List reviewed and computer coming with me in case I don't end up sleeping where I think I'll be any particular night.</span> </p>3) If you own a 990 ADV get the TourTech big kickstand foot. I wish they made one for the centerstand.<br /><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">Check. I made a kickstand plate and it lives in my tank bag.</span><br /><br />4) Go it alone. I wasn't sure about it when I left home, but the longer I was out, the more I liked it. Go where you want, when you want, stop when ever to take a pic or investigate a dirt road that beckons. There is never a discussion about someone not wanting to do that.<br /><br />Sleeping alone, in the middle of a desert under a star filled sky on a ground sheet and your sleeping bag is amazing. And waking up at dawn and watching the morning light creep up the walls of a canyon while you heat water for a cup of coffee is a religious experience.<br /><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">I'm going as solo as could be. </span><br /><br />5) See #1. You dont need anywhere near as much stuff as you think.<br /><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">Hmm. I'll rethink the wardrobe selection...</span><br /><br />6) It will frequently not be "fun" but it is always an adventure. You will be sore from long days in the saddle, from sleeping on the hard ground. You will be cold, wet, hot, thirsty, tired of the desert winds that blow your stuff all over the camp if not carefull. But after a while, you will gain experience and become an old hand with it all. It is a steep learning curve and using ADVrider.com as a resource is a huge help.<br /><br />6) Now go out there and have an adventure</span><br /></span><br /><span style="color:#3333ff;">Yessir!</span>Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-6462964421304451072008-04-13T23:54:00.001-05:002008-04-17T00:56:59.383-05:00Inks Lake CampoutMet Deb in Fulshear bright and early Saturday morning for a ride out to Inks Lake State Park for the Two Wheeled Texans Spring Hill Country Rally. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912064_FCBf5-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912093_stu74-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We got caught up in the MS150 bicycle race mess for a little while, which I thought I had routed us around to avoid. Oh well. We were in no hurry.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912107_QMoYm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We finally made it through to Hwy 290 when traffic came to a standstill - the annual Chappell Hill wildflower festival was under way. <br /><br />We detoured around the madness and eventually needed to u-turn, which brought us to this structure. It looked too good to pass up the photo op. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912134_48ZW9-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The day was beautiful. Blue skies, white clouds, and temps in the mid 70s.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912011_zYfoD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912149_76sKf-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912181_6ED7s-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912208_Mxuut-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Deb and I eventually got to the park and found the loop Matt had reserved for the group. Since the boys were nowhere to be found, we set up camp and went for a walk around the park to take advantage of the remaining daylight.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912272_pLiqM-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912301_CsWHE-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911503_cHH4i-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911530_yRL8g-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911557_uVYAJ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911582_MSNY4-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911600_dNip6-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912032_ozPSh-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911629_NK9BC-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279912047_CpZPM-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We found a group that had a band playing on the other side of the park. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911652_TZQdD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The boys eventually made their way back and we had dinner, made fire, and reveled in stories and jokes for the remainder of the evening. <br /><br />What happens at Inks Lake stays at Inks Lake.... <br /><br />It was c-c-c-cold overnight. I remember trying to duck down into my sleeping bag and closing it over my head to try to warm up, but I'd fall asleep and start to inch back out. <br /><br />We emerged from the tent after Matt shook it thoroughly - I'm sure he was just trying to help knock some of the condensation off. Right, Matt? I ate breakfast (and it was yummy no matter what the numbers on the back of the package or my campmates say) then Deb and I set to packing up the gear. <br /><br />We hit the road. Or at least we tried. Deb and I were in the back and by the time the first intersection appeared the guys were nowhere to be seen. We were supposed to go right, but that would have meant a change of course - and surely they'd be here waiting for us if that were the case. I convinced Deb we'd continue left at the fork since the group would have stayed on the same-numbered road and we headed up Park Road 4. We got a few miles in before we pulled over into a paved driveway. Still no sign of the guys. Was this the right way after all? Were they back at the fork in the road wondering what happened to us? <br /><br />We turned and headed back, and as we reached the end of the road Matt and Roger pulled up behind us. Yup, we'd gone the right way - we just hadn't gone far enough to see where they'd been waiting on us. :doh: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911674_fBJ4W-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The weather was once again cooperating quite nicely. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911697_Mredt-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Somehow I was leading from the back. I'd been sober enough the night before to get a general idea of a route from the guys and program the GPS with help from Matt's atlas, but I had no way of getting it from my GPS to Brad's. I'd give Matt the next few intersections to look for and approximate mileage between them, then I'd drop back to sweep and give him the next set of turns when we finished those. <br /><br />Cow Creek Road sounded familiar, so we took it. I'm sure the group was wondering what kind of unpaved mess I'd gotten them into, but we continued on through gravel, potholes, dry water crossings, and cattle guards. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911710_jgqq3-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Hey Mat, show us your Daffy! :lol2: <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911730_tS9Db-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911750_mYTpY-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It's kinda fun to ride in the back. Nobody to watch my lines, nobody having to wait while I take pictures... <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911765_3A3z7-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Cow Creek twisted and turned following the water, crossing over it several times. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911789_8S9mN-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911807_KiT2K-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We popped back out on the main road, and the view of the area was great. I just wish there had been somewhere to pull off for better pictures. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911823_uvqoo-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We made our way down to Bee Cave for lunch at Sonic (for lack of a better option open on a Sunday) and after lunch we said our goodbyes. <br /><br />I led Deb out towards Lockhart for another fuel stop, then she headed for Huntsville while I wandered my way home to Houston. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911859_axZww-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911879_EH45E-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I'm getting used to solo riding. Before this past year, I'd not gone very far on my own. I'm getting ready for the longest solo ride of my riding career and I'm trying my best to not worry about being "alone out there". <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911933_5LytD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I've decided it's not so bad - I can stop when and where I want, and for as long as I want. I can take my time or take the super slab at will. <br /><br />When I spot a sign that says "scenic overlook 1 mile" I can either keep going or check it out. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911953_Bztwe-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />And most of all, I can take time to think. <br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/279911981_7US8F-O.jpg" border="0" />Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24272988.post-81429386936356074182008-03-30T23:15:00.002-05:002008-04-17T00:25:41.571-05:00Crash & Burn: Corpus Cristi OvernighterMet up with the SW Houston crew at Starbucks in Sugar Land to head down to <a href="http://www.twtex.com/forums/showthread.php?t=25452">Ingleside</a> for lunch.<br /><br />This cute doggie was in the drive-thru line waiting for his morning java.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274288727_UDcYf-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The sky was grey and would remain that way for quite a while.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274288794_XHJDQ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />In Palacios, Duke (dixonduke) joined us and fell in line with the gang. The sun finally started to appear.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274288855_axfsi-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We were only ten minutes late for the pie run, but apparently everyone else was early.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274288925_E9SBo-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Photo courtesy of Gilk51)</span><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/280711804_QH6GU-M.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Photo courtesy of M38A1)</span><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://i249.photobucket.com/albums/gg237/M38A1_bucket/08Pie%203%20Ingleside/08Pie_Ingleside020.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Photo courtesy of M38A1)</span><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://i249.photobucket.com/albums/gg237/M38A1_bucket/08Pie%203%20Ingleside/08Pie_Ingleside021.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Scott (M38A1) put his map making skills to the test.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274288995_P8DGm-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It was good to see Scott (bluedogok) and Naomi again.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289083_zp7Bp-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Photo courtesy of Jbay)</span><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://i240.photobucket.com/albums/ff142/jbay524/DSC_0186.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Kurt (txmedic) was heading back across the ferry after lunch, so James (jar675) and I followed his lead to check out the potential for camping on the beach near his hotel.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289130_GpXtD-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289189_t766j-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289232_z6cSP-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Once across, we spotted a photo op that I just couldn't pass up.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289295_Kib6r-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We wandered onto the beach and I waved James ahead, since his XR was more suited to the conditions than my Strom. I guess once I was following him, I forgot I wasn't on the XR with knobbies.<br /><br />I got going a little faster than I wanted to be going, so I deployed the outriggers and either<br />a) grabbed the clutch<br />b) chopped the throttle<br />c) grabbed the front brake<br />d) a&b<br />e) a&c<br />f) all of the above<br /><br />The front tire plowed into the sand and took the bike down on its left in what felt like half a second. I remember launching up over the front right of the bike head first and hitting the ground on my right arm/shoulder and rolling over to my back then back to an almost seated position.<br /><br />I caught my breath and raised my arm so Kurt would see I was ok, then started moving limbs and joints to make sure they were all there and still working. The first thing I remember hurting was a burning sensation on my right elbow/forearm. I was wearing mesh gear, and as I hit the sand it came up into the jacket and rubbed against me while I rolled. As I got up and got my jacket off, I noticed some light red marks in the area but it was just a light abrasion. My elbow was hurting a bit, but I had full motion.<br /><br />Kurt and James got the bike righted (I heard some grunting, yes - the beast is heavy when it's loaded for camping!) and rolled out of the path of beach traffic. A quick once-over showed I'd knocked the right blinker stalk loose, but the blinker cover was recovered from the sand and reattached. The wiring was all in tact. Kurt noticed the brake lever/handguard assembly being a bit out of whack, which we later adjusted back to a comfortable position.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289388_Qx9RJ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The top mounting point on the luggage rack that accepts the lock from my pannier was damaged, so the lock could no longer keep the bag in place. I dug out a tie wrap I keep under the seat and slung it around all four handles of the bags to keep the left one on with tension from the right one. It wasn't pretty, but it would do and I could still get in and out of the panniers.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289442_CApa7-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We got some offers for help from passers-by checking to make sure I was ok. One couple that was walking on the beach said they saw everything and told me I rolled quite nicely. <div align="center"></div><br />James said that he didn't see anything in his mirror, but he knew something had happened when he heard my engine rev real high.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289373_6pM4C-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I programmed Kurt's number into my phone in case we needed it, then said goodbye to find ourselves somewhere to pitch our tents and get some campfire dinner started.<br /><br />We rode down the island and stopped in at Mustang Island State Park, but the camping area had loose, deep sand that I didn't want to attempt to cross. The day use area didn't look bad at all, and it had a parking lot and picnic tables.<br /><br />We continued south to Padre Island National Seashore. Between James' State Parks Pass and my National Parks Pass, these check-it-out trips weren't costing us anything.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289507_gu66i-O.jpg" border="0" /><br />The National Park area had too many RVs and generators, so we decided Mustang Island was it for us. We headed back to the grocery store over the bridge in Corpus and loaded up on food and drink. By this time, mother nature was just being cruel - there was a steady drizzle that only let up while we were inside the store. <div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289524_YePr3-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We picked up some firewood from the gas station so we could grill some steaks and potatoes.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289537_Dx6co-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Well we couldn't make a fire. We tried EVERYTHING - fire starter gel, paper, tissues, even gasoline. We'd get a minute or two of flames, but they were no match for the wind and rain. I pan fried the ribeyes, added them to the seasoned potatoes and onions, and called it dinner.<br /><br />The wind was going strong most of the evening, but it calmed down enough to lessen the threat of collapsed tents while we slept. I think a few stars even appeared before bedtime.<br /><br />Knowing I'd be sore from the fall, James was kind enough to let me sleep in until a little after 9am.<br /><br />We wet for a walk down the beach, and I brought my camera.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289599_HdFoJ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289667_YNAR5-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289741_A7vXP-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The water was cold, but inviting. We walked out onto the jetty and got splashed by the crashing waves.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289808_hkcEw-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289873_5BSkd-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It was warm out, but not 'summer hot' yet. I guess I didn't realize how long we were out there walking, but I'd forgotten to put on sunscreen. I made breakfast tacos with scrambled eggs and the remaining meat & potatoes from dinner, then we started packing the bikes for the ride home.<br /><br />James mentioned I was starting to turn pink and suggessted I put something on over my tank top to block the sun. <div align="center"></div><br />As we left the island, we headed back across the bridge to Corpus Cristi. It was much less intimidating without the wind, rain, and fog like the night before.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289902_zThJ7-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I wanted to go see the big boat. (Yes, Lady Lex - but I called it the big boat) so we headed back towards Ingleside.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Gettin' artsy...</span><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289931_agvR5-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274289985_XhzAt-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290114_p9jLw-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We headed back up the coast, this time with no plan other than to eventually get back to Houston.<br /><br />More bridges.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290164_TZjAH-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I saw a sign for the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge and wondered what it was. It was still mid-afternoon, so we headed the way the signs pointed and eventually got there.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290221_aVFYZ-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The visitor's center was closed, but we looked around and took a break. It was here that I got my first look at my sunburn in a mirror... <div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290269_QrWvE-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290307_AHA7M-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />While I was putzing around taking pictures of flowers and scenery, James said "Hey, look at that!" I turned and almost jumped out of my (burnt) skin.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290361_FnboA-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290419_FaHpc-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290467_5npH4-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />I was just amazed at the size of this thing. I'm a city girl - and even though I live in a bayou city, I'd never seen a gator up close. I was nervous, but stayed safely behind the bikes and just kept snapping pics until he was across the parking lot.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290531_9Hjuo-O.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />While heading for home, mother nature opened up the skies and let it rain down. Unlike the night before, this time I pulled off the road and donned my rain gear so I'd be slightly less miserable for the rest of the ride. I was getting chills and was in pain from the sunburn, and exhaustion was setting in. My shoulder and arm were getting stiff, and fighting the gusting wind wasn't helping matters.<br /><br />One last stop at Jack In The Box to refuel our bodies before the final 70-mile stretch for home. I welcomed the air conditioning blowing on my shoulders.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 600px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://squeaky.smugmug.com/photos/274290589_r3mPT-O.jpg" border="0" /><br />My weekend has now been dubbed "crash and burn" <div align="center"></div>Rebecca "Squeaky" Nelsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17494595319411779520noreply@blogger.com0