My annual bike ride this year is a little later than normal. As most of you know, way back in 2000 my Fat Boy and I got wadded up pretty good on Highway 78 outside of Oceanside, California. I’ve been doing okay but my left foot was starting to bother me, so in March I got it looked at. I was told that I should have reconstructive surgery if I wanted my leg to stay over the top of my foot; some of the tendons and ligaments were in need of replacement . I had the surgery done but the recovery time involved moved my bike ride back a bit. In the interim, I managed to break my kneecap – but that’s a story for another time. I’m almost back to 100% and I’ll be leaving in the morning. September 11, 2019.

The anniversary of al-Qaeda’s terrorist attack that brought their radical Islamist war against the USA onto our home soil killing 2,977 people. What I would like you to do for just a second, is think back to that time, and how we ALL came together. The stars and stripes were flying proudly and defiantly as we put aside our differences and we concentrated on what’s really important – we are all Americans. Your political views, race, gender, religion, sexual disposition, NONE of it made a bit of difference, it felt good to be one nation, under God, indivisible, seeking liberty and justice for all — didn’t it? We were Americans, united in our resolve to prevent another such event from taking place.

And – what did we do? We did what we have always done, we took the fight to the enemy. Our military fights our country’s battles “over there” so our enemies don’t have a chance to bring their desire to kill Americans “over here.” Sure is nice to have a country that is strong enough to keep the fight off our soil. Something else I’d like you to think about is how lucky you are to be where you are right now. Because even though we all have our own little “issues” with these people or that political party, we are all blessed to be alive and to live in the greatest country on the face of the earth. The ONLY reason that we remain the greatest country is that we’re strong enough and willing to defend it. American soldiers have proudly gone to battle and will continue to do so, to defend our country and our freedom from so many that would take it. I thank God that I am an American and I thank our soldiers for my safety and my freedom.

The first day or two of this ride are gonna be slab days. I’m sure y’all are well aware of my disdain for the interstate – but it’ll get you there fast, and some places can only be accessed via the interstate. I guess they fall into the necessary evil category.

The opium dens, bordellos, and other landmarks from Williams, Arizona’s, rough-and-tumble past are long gone. But some kinder, gentler vestiges of this town’s Wild West era remain. The town of 3,000 residents, bills itself as the gateway to the Grand Canyon (56 miles north), and home to the Grand Canyon Railway; an excursion train that is supposed to be the best way to get to the “big ditch”. Williams is only about an hour from the ranch and it’s another location along The Mother Road – Route 66, another reason for the tourists to stop in. At almost 7,000 ft it’s pretty dang cold here in the winter.

In November Robin and I will be taking that two hour train ride up to the Grand Canyon with some friends that will be visiting for a few days. We’re really looking forward to that.

I didn’t start out with the intention of making this a Route 66 ride but since they rolled the asphalt for Interstate 40 right over the top of the Mother Road from Oklahoma City to Barstow… well – you gotta go with what ya got. SO – you’ve all heard the song right? Sing along with me, Flagstaff, Arizona – Don’t forget Winona – Kingman, Barstow, San Bernandino. Now you may have been to many of these towns, but have you ever been to Winona, AZ — me neither. So when I saw the sign for Winona, I thought I’d take a break from mixing it up with the semi’s at 85 mph and took the off ramp. Winona is defined by Wikipedia as “a small populated place”. There are a few houses and at least as many mobile homes – but that’s about it. No main street, post office, nuthin. However, there is this Darling Cinder Mine or Pit.

This is a mountain of cinders, a pyroclastic material with so many holes in it that it will float in water. Cinders are much of what the landscape of Northern Arizona is covered with. This operation is one of several up here that collect cinders for many uses; mostly they spread them for traction over snow and ice covered roads. That means little or no salt on the roadways – and that’s a very good thing if you don’t want your vehicles all rusted out.

Winona was just an unscheduled stop on my way to Meteor Crater. Never been there – figured most of you haven’t been there either so I’m checking it out for everyone.

Meteor Crater is just 6 miles south of I-40 so getting to it is no big deal. If you’re even slightly interested in this kinda stuff, it’s worth the hour or two break from the road. I will tell you this – Meteor Crater is the real deal. About 50,000 years ago, when the area was an open grassland dotted with woodlands inhabited by mammoths and giant ground sloths^, a space rock about 50 meters across crashed into the earth at about 29,000 mph making this crater that’s almost a mile across. SMACK!!

They say it was “discovered” by settlers in the early 19th century. What a joke that announcement would have been to the American Indians that had been living in the area for hundreds if not thousands of years. Reminds me of my kids picking up a $20 I left on the table for my wife and saying, “Look what I found”.

There’s lots of interesting stuff you’ll learn if you’re so inclined but I would like to share one more interesting thing. In 1903, mining engineer Daniel M. Barringer set out to find the meteor. He staked a mining claim and got a land patent from Theodore Roosevelt for 640 acres around the crater. That guy dug holes up to 240 feet deep for 27 years looking for “the” rock. Come to find out, the meteorite was mostly vaporized upon impact, leaving few remains in the crater. The steam engine and winch used for the digging are still in the bottom of the crater. The first winch they had was run by donkeys. Oh, if you go with young kids, check out the Collision Experience – otherwise skip it. And you should know it’s not free – Meteor Crater This pic is just to prove I was actually there.

I was really hoping to get an Indian fry bread steak filled taco for lunch. I asked one of the Indian girls working at Meteor Crater and she told me that the ONLY place to get one around here was from a street vendor. She directed me to a few locations in the town of Winslow, AZ where the vendors set up. It was with a dejected stride (limp really) that I walked into McDonald’s. That fry bread would have been SO much better than a big mac – alas, no vendors were out today…. I’ll try again on the way back

I stopped for a leg stretcher and came across one of the hundreds of relics from the days when Route 66 was a major thoroughfare. The building associated with the tipi covered picnic benches is still here but there’s nothing inside and no markings that would lead to its identification – far as I could tell anyway. Maybe an old gas station.

I need a couple tires and was going to wait until I get to Atlanta but I called the dealer here in Albuquerque and he said he would get me in first thing – so that’s what I’m doing here instead of up the road in Santa Fe. Even though it’ll cost me half a day, the increased safety and enjoyment are gonna be worth it. That – and my wife said she would be more comfortable if I wasn’t riding around all over the country on bald tires.

Yesterday, when I called about getting my tires changed, the service manager sad that there was a great little cafe close by where I could get some breakfast while I waited on the tires. Come to find out, the cafe is located inside the Ford dealership right next door to the Harley dealer. I’ve eaten at a little cafe inside the Chevrolet dealership in Fillmore, CA several times, and the food there has always been excellent so I was definitely gonna check out the Mustang Cafe here in Albuquerque. I normally get up very early, so a 10:30 breakfast was gonna be a bit late in the day — but I’ve got plenty of reserves, I doubt that I’ll waste away to nothing.

Now, this was MY Kinda breakfast. Don’t get me wrong, I like the french toast and pancakes as well but THIS is the kind of breakfast that will get you down the road. Those sweet bread (very different than sweetbreads) kinda breakfasts wear off pretty quickly, but a hearty breakfast like this will stick with you for the rest of the day – especially when breakfast is close to lunch time.

Stuffed to the gills, I waddled back over to the Harley dealer to finish waiting on my bike. Owning and riding a Harley Davidson is not cheap. The mere mention of the name puts dollar signs in the eyes of the guy behind the counter. I’ve heard people complain about how much their tires cost – How about $410 EACH. Admittedly, that’s kinda high – but I called around and I found dealers that were actually charging MORE. Oh well – when you start thinking about the cost (both monetary and physical) of blowing out a front tire at 85 mph on the interstate – $820 is cheap. However from now on, I’ll do a little better planning ahead, order my tires on line and do the work myself. Hourly labor at the Harley dealer is $175 – Cough cough……

Okay – enough crying in my beer. I’m going to try to explain the difference between old, worn out, rock hard, square tires and a set of brand new round and sticky tires. Now this is my experience but I think you’ll be able to relate. You’re a young kid and it’s time for you to get a new pair of shoes because you can see your socks sticking out of your current shoes, and not just through the sole. You doubt that your folks will spring for them but you KNOW what you want. Your foot is measured and they bring the box out and you can’t believe it PF Flyers!! You have to put your old shoes on to go home but when you get there, you get your brand new shoes on and out you go. Now you know it’s true because you’ve seen it on TV; “you can run faster and jump higher in your PF Flyers”. And that’s just what you spend the rest of the day doing, with a huge smile on your face. That’s how new tires on your motorcycle feel.

Today I got off the slab and took my new tires for a trip through the mountains of Northern New Mexico. What a difference from the interstate. Breathe in the fresh air and go as fast or slow as you want. New tires making the road feel smoother than it really is and sticking in the turns like riding on a roller coaster. This is what it’s all about and I’m sure I’m riding with that PF Flyers smile.

Along the way I saw this little cabin and had to come back, if for nothing else than to read the name on the entrance gate. If you click on the picture you should be able to see it full size. The name above the gate is Kickin Ass Ranch. Looks like it’s been a while since anyone has been through that gate but it is a cool looking place, right on the edge of a little creek just outside Madrid, NM. Wiki says that Madrid is a recovered ghost town that now exists as an art destination. I have to agree. There were lots of cars & motorcycles in the small “downtown” area for a weekday. The little art shops are mostly selling goats milk soap and tie dyed t-shirts – I didn’t stop.

After spending a few hours in the 6,000 to 7,000 foot range, it was time to get back down to the flat land. This road down from the mountains is like motorcycle ride dessert. Today’s ride was short but I had a great breakfast, got fresh skins, and enjoyed some quality time on the edges of those tires in the New Mexico mountains. Perfect!!

I woke up just after 4:00 AM, and that was unusual, not because of the hour because I wake up early all the time, but this time I was still kinda tired. So I laid there trying to get back to sleep. The bright flash of light and window rattling thunder revealed my alarm clock. The rain went mostly around us, and the light show was over but the damage was done so I got up. I banged around a little, got the blog published, and packed up the bike.

At 7:30 I was ready to go, determined to stay off the slab on my way to Oklahoma City. I was keeping a watchful eye on the sky though, because I didn’t want to have to put on my rain clothes. It was a little brighter than this photo but the sky was pretty dark. It looked like those clouds in the distance could start pouring rain any moment.

About an hour into the day I crossed the border into Texas; looking better as far as the rain goes. You’ve likely heard me say that overall, the roads in Texas are the best of any state. I’m sticking by that, but this road is pulling down the average a little. Nevertheless (that’s for you David) the speed limit went from 65 to 75 at the state line. I know some that would say, That’s because Texas doesn’t care about people, they only care about oil. And the faster you burn your gas the sooner you’re going to have to buy more. My take on it is that the folks in Texas know that it’s a BIG state and if you’re going to get anywhere without spending the whole day driving you gotta go fast. So they take pretty good care of the roads and the speed limits are high. I really think that at the state line they should have a sign that says – Speed Limit 75 unless posted. Save ’em some money……

I don’t remember having been on this particular road before. The landscape reminded me of something but I couldn’t quite figure out what. When I finally got it, I had to take a picture, the landscape looks like the coastal links land in Ireland. It’s difficult to show in a picture – but trust me, it looks just like Ireland. Kinda –

I saw this tree and thought immediately – Wow, this would be the perfect tree to have outside your window in some kind of scary movie. So – I’m calling it the Halloween Tree. Skies are getting blue here and there but you can see that there’s still water on the road.

This is the kind of country where you see heavy equipment on the road all the time. Mostly oil well stuff and farming stuff. Every time I see on of these guys, all I can think about is, I KNOW I could fit under that thing – how cool would that be, go zipping under that thing at 80 mph. Either that or die tryin.

According to the weather radar app on my phone my side road route looked like it was going to get me wet. SO – back down to the slab for the last hundred or so miles. Dry all the way – mostly. A great day on the bike!! I’ll be back on the road in a couple days. Until then remember – When life throws you a curve, Lean into it.

First thing – I have to thank my long time friends Bert & Mary for welcoming me back into their home and life for a couple days. It’s always a pleasure. While I was there, Bert and I went on a little ride and their daughter wanted to ride with me. She is a good little rider and all three of us had a blast.

It was going to be a long day and I wanted to get an early start. I figured 7:00 was reasonable but I didn’t check to make sure the sun was going to be up!! I was a little surprised to find out that sunrise in OKC was 7:12. Oh well, I was ready to go at 6:45 so, having said my good byes last night just in case, I sneaked out, under the lights. BTW, gasoline in Oklahoma very reasonable. The lowest price I saw was $2.05 per gallon and diesel was around $2.25 – I’d imagine all the independent long haul truckers are thrilled to be driving their empty tanks into OK.

Some of you might be wondering – why Blytheville, (pronounced Bly-vul) Arkansas? The answer is helmet laws. Arkansas is the farthest east you can go in this part of the country without running into a helmet law state, and I didn’t want to have to haul that thing out until the last moment. Blytheville butts right up against Tennessee and Missouri, both of which require helmets. When I get into Kentucky – I can take it off again, but that’s about the end of it around here. Almost all the east coast, like ALL of the west coast, have decided that they should be able to legislate away your freedoms. Let those who ride decide. Okay – enough.

I was set to stay on the slab all the way today but after the first 235 miles I wanted a break from the more boring, albeit faster, route. Arkansas has some beautiful country and after I got gas in Ozark, I headed for the road less traveled. OOPS – the countryside was nice enough but the road was something else. On these kind of roads you make sure to keep your teeth clenched so you don’t chip a tooth!! And don’t even think about trying to save your back. I was hoping it would change after while, but 50+ miles of those roads I waived my white flag and went back up to the slab, vowing that I would try again later.

One thing I noticed when I got into Arkansas was that it was unusually smokey. At first, since it was early morning, I thought it might just be haze that would burn off but later I could definitely smell smoke. Hmmm…. After another hundred or so miles on the slab I decided to give the side roads another try and was able to see where all the smoke was coming from.

This is rice country and about 25% of the rice farmers use fire to clear their fields of crop residue, control pests and elimination of difficult to control weeds. I found out that it’s a pretty big bone of contention in this part of the state. I’d say that the smoke is unpleasant, especially for extended periods of time – no wonder I didn’t see very many motorcycles on the road.

I mentioned that this is rice country. It took me a-while to figure that out as I haven’t seen very much rice being grown. Lots of soybeans as well. Then I wondered if it’s a crop rotation deal – and it is. Rice creates some issues in the fields where it’s grown and soybeans do a lot to reverse those issues and prepare the field for another rice crop. Additionally, the equipment used to harvest rice can be modified to harvest soybeans. The soybeans are mostly used for animal feed.

While I was on my back road excursion I saw this and had to stop and check it out. It took me a minute to figure out what it is (or more accurately used to be).

It’s a draw-bridge for a railroad track. The workers would sit in their shacks down by the water, and when it was time to raise the bridge they would climb the steps to the shacks on top and let the boat through, then lower the track back for the train to use. It’s obviously been out of service for a long time but still very cool. I suggest you click on the image so you can see it full screen.

Here is another back road gem that you don’t get to experience when you do your traveling on the interstate.

This is a rather short post and there are quite a few people that this is their first year so I invite them (and you) to click this link and find out Why I Ride. It ain’t for everybody, but it’s the best way to travel for me and the one I’ll always take if I can.

When I started out this morning I had my constant companion with me.

l was thinking that this would be a good day for some road less traveled time. I’d strap on the skid lid and ride to Kentucky on the slab. Then stop for gas and figure out a more scenic route into Lexington. I got the first part of that done as planned. While I was riding through Tennessee, I heard a bit of a different sound coming from the exhaust. At my welcome to Kentucky gas stop, instead of looking for back roads into Lexington, I was looking for the closest Harley dealer. The hose clamp kinda thing that holds the muffler to the exhaust pipe wasn’t doing its job and the muffler was detached. It happened once before and I tightened the clamp as tight as it would go – but looks like that didn’t last. I was lucky though and just 20 miles behind me, in Paducah, KY was a dealer. I called first and they had the part. I almost laughed when the bill was less than $10 – you can’t buy an o-riing at a Harley dealer for ten bucks! Anyway – I checked with service, just in case they were sitting around wishing they had something to do. Nope – and for what they would have likely charged me I could have bought Snap-On tools to do the job, thrown them away when I was done, and still saved money. I do carry a tool kit with me and had enough of an array of implements to get the job done in the parking lot. Luckily for me, I found some shade. Two hours later I was back at my welcome to Kentucky gas stop. That about killed my back roads time but I was very happy to have the bike back together. I thought later that I should have taken a picture or two of everything scattered around the parking lot but I wasn’t thinking about that kinda stuff at the time – just getting the work done so I could be back on the road.

It was hot again today, but nothing like yesterday. Word is that it’s supposed to start cooling down and I, for one, can’t wait. I wasn’t on the Interstate all that much today but the speed limit was 70 and everyone was going at least 75. That’s a lot of being beaten up by the wind if nothing else. With only 45 miles to go I got off the beaten path and found some side roads. Beautiful countryside and some quick turns that will wake you right the #$*& up!!

It was getting close to time for people to be coming home from work and the speed limit on these narrow winding roads is 55 mph. I had to pay attention and after a couple cars going the other way were a little bit in my lane – I slowed down and tried to give them as much of the middle as they wanted. It’s been a pretty good day overall – wouldn’t want to end it with someone running into my already pretty banged up leg.

There were some very cool things along the way, this Railroad bridge has no rails above the ties and is just an entrance to someone’s drive. Wonder if a dually truck’s fender wells will fit between those uprights??

Plenty of these old barns just falling apart. I would really like to get the wood off that thing and use it for some of my woodworking projects. I imagine if I lived out here, I could have all of that kinda stuff I wanted.

Another pretty short post – but I’m spending quality time with my aunt so y’all are just going to have to take a back seat for now.

Had a great time visiting with my favorite aunt Kathleen and Marty. It’s always fun to sit and chat about our family and the old days in Willcox, Arizona where we grew up.

While I was in Lexington, we went to see Pleasant Hill. Back in the day this 3,000 acre area was a village of Shakers. The Shakers adopted the name through religious worship that included shaking of the hands, arms and head, which they believed was ridding them of their sins. They called themselves a much more formal name – the United Society of Believers in Christ’s Second Coming. After the group left the Church of England, they came to the United States in the 1770s and settled into communities that followed strict rules which set them apart from the mainstream culture.

Their self-sufficient communities ensured that they relied on the land and their own hard work to survive. Though they thrived in these groups, the Shakers stuck close to their principles of simplicity and humility. These areas of practice were easily seen in their style of furniture. Ornamentation was seen as sinful, often promoting pride. Faux finishes were also avoided because they were considered deceitful. Instead, the history of shaker furniture meant simple furniture was created to meet their basic needs. It is a sought-after style used in many homes today.

The REST of the story – The lady that brought the Shakers to America was know as Mother Ann. Beginning during her youth, Ann Lee was uncomfortable with sexuality, especially her own. This repulsion towards sexual activity continued and manifested itself most poignantly in her repeated attempts to avoid marriage and remain single. Eventually her father forced her to marry. She became pregnant four times, all of her children died during infancy which no doubt contributed to Ann Lee’s dislike of sexual relations. Lee developed radical religious convictions that advocated celibacy and the abandonment of marriage, as well as the importance of pursuing perfection in every facet of life.

It seems pretty obvious to me that a celibate society is doomed to extinction. I guess there is still on Shaker village somewhere up in Maine. Other than that though, all the other villages are either abandoned or have been turned into museums. The Pleasant Hill museum is and excursion worth taking, there’s even a restaurant which is at least okay.

Leaving Lexington, KY it was actually cool enough to need my sweatshirt, which was actually a welcome change from the wilting heat I’ve been riding in since I left Arizona. Having almost 600 miles to cover to get to Hampton left me with just one option, the necessary evil of Interstate 64 the whole way. Now, I have to say that all interstates are not created equal. I-64 was typical until I got into West Virginia; there it was a quite pleasant ride through what passes for mountains out here. Nothing like the rocky mountains or anything but plenty of up and down and twists and turns. Having shed the sweatshirt at the WV border and donning my helmet I enjoyed a ride that often felt like I had the road to myself. The only slightly irritating thing was that I had to pay two $4.00 tolls for the privilege.

I guess West Virginia needs the money for all the I-64 construction they are doing in the state. I didn’t keep an accurate count, but conservatively I’d say there were 8 different places where things necked down to one lane, sometimes for miles at a time. It was one of those construction zones where I nearly got to spend some quality time with a State Trooper. I was fudging the 55 mph speed limit a little more than was acceptable and noticed a black SUV swooping down on me. I was getting off at the next exit for gas anyway and had resigned myself to a conversation at the very least. For whatever reason, he pulled off to the shoulder just as we both exited the interstate. Whew – if I’d have gotten a speeding ticket in the construction zone, I’m sure the fine would have been a hefty one.

I-64 turns into I-81 which was much more crowded. Even though the speed limit was still 70 mph, the staying out of trouble speed was closer to 80 mph. There are several ways that I know I’m getting older but no longer wanting to be flying down the asphalt at those kind of speeds is another one. It reminds me of a ride I took with a buddy to Sturgis back in 2009. We met a couple older guys at our campground in Cody, WY. They had also come from southern CA but our trip had only taken 3 days and they had been on the road for over a week. They told us that they rode about 5 mph UNDER the speed limit and never went more than 250 miles a day. They had a rule, at every single rest stop (no exceptions) they would pull in and “smoke a bowl & drink a beer”. I’m nowhere near that yet, but it’s looking more appealing to me all the time.

The high speeds and traffic went away fairly soon and I was back on I-64 in the mountains of VA. It was cool enough in the shade to need a sweatshirt again but I just enjoyed the cool and pressed on. I did stop at this view point for a leg stretch and there was actually a pretty good view. As with all the pictures you can click on it to see a larger view.

It was getting later in the day and the rush hour traffic out of Richmond made me spur my steed back up to 80 mph and get the last hundred or so miles behind me. A very nice day all things considered. I’ll be spending a few days in the area visiting family and friends. I should be back on the road Monday, heading for South Carolina –

I had a great time in the Norfolk, VA area. A couple of my Air Force friends and their children live out here & I’ve known those kids since they were little. My first stop was at Heather’s house. She and her whole family are delightful and we had a great visit. Red Rider, mother – Kim, daughter – Heather and son – Lowell.

On the way to drop the kids at school, the sun was shining its welcoming rays through the clouds. Heather could see a face in the brightest part but it was lost on these old eyes.

Of course the kids were enamored with my motorcycle. They climbed all over like it was a jungle gym and it didn’t bother me at all. Meet – Max & Cadence, ready to roll.

Several years ago when I was out here Kim, who is a GREAT cook, made me a banana cream pie. It was by far the BEST I’ve ever had. Now it’s kind-of tradition, and that’s just fine with me. She gave me the recipe but my feeble attempts don’t even compare. Gonna need my loose fittin’ jeans for a couple days….

My next stop was just a couple miles away. Don & Judy have been good friends (family really) since the late 70’s. I didn’t get a current picture so you’ll have to make due with the one from last time I was through. You need to try to imagine Don with NO hair. After many years of not cutting his hair, he just buzzed it all off one day. Judy is a timeless beauty and looks exactly the same now, better actually.

Don & Judy’s son just got back from a guard deployment in Iraq and he is a captain on the local police force. Thank you Brian for your selfless service – and welcome home!!

After church and lunch we went for a ride around some of the historic parts of the Newport News area. This place is steeped in history. The Revolutionary War was fought here and of course the Civil War. We drove around inside Fort Monroe, an active Army Fort until September, 2011 when it fell to the axe of BRAC – Base Realignment and Closure. Completed in 1834, Ft. Monroe guarded the entire Chesapeake Bay and Potomac River regions, including the water approaches to the cities of Washington, D.C. and Baltimore, Maryland, along with important shipyards and naval bases in the Hampton Roads area. Surrounded by a moat, the six-sided bastion fort is the largest fort by area ever built in the United States. There is just so much to see historically – for more check out Fort Monroe.

Right next to the fort is Mill Creek. It’s hardly a creek but they were running boat races there so we stopped in for one of the races – pretty cool.

We did more riding around and checking things out but you get the idea. One of the trees in Ft. Monroe looks like it’s at least a couple hundred years old. If that tree could talk…..

While I thoroughly enjoyed my time in VA, I was glad to be back on my bike. I resolved to stay off the interstate all day – or at least as long as possible. The morning was nice, but a nice morning means it’s probably gonna be a less than nice day. It never got too HOT but it was certainly warm. When backroading it, looking ahead on the GPS can be very helpful. Even if it takes longer to go around a big town, it’s much better than riding through the city with stop lights, and/or train crossings every other block; especially when the sun is baking down on you. My ride right through the middle of Raleigh and the adjoining town sent me straight for I-95. It was getting uncomfortable and I was kinda over it for the day. By the time I got to the interstate, it was only 60 miles to my exit, and the traffic wasn’t bad at all. I rolled into Sumter just about supper time – another great day.

Had a wonderful couple days with my extended family in Sumter. I never did get a picture taken, so I borrowed one that was hanging on the wall. That little white dog (Violet) and I played a whole lot of tug-o-war and don’t be surprised if you see that little girl on the LPGA, or her daddy in a Bassmasters tournament of champions. See y’all again soon.

Sumter to Charleston is a fairly short ride so I decided to take Dawn’s advise and check out the Angel Oak just south of my end of day destination. This tree is HUGE. In the past it was thought that the tree was 1500 years old but more recent estimates are less than a third of that. Regardless though – dang big tree. And if trees could talk – this one would have some tales to tell. The Revolutionary and Civil Wars for sure, but here’s something you likely didn’t know. Back in late May, 1718 Edward Teach, more commonly known as Blackbeard lead a multi day siege of Charleston. As part of the attack his pirates took some prisoners and the ransom paid was a chest of medical supplies.

It is plenty warm down here not to mention the humidity. I was thinking about doing some more exploring but my comfort level was getting lower by the second so I headed for a more controlled climate – inside my friend’s house over on the north side of town.

The ride down from Sumter wasn’t a long one so I stayed on the back roads all the way until I got close to Charleston. Gotta get off city surface streets at any cost.

Whew – haven’t done that in a while!! I worked with Rolan back at LAX. He is a great cook and a connoisseur of the finer spirits. When I told him that I didn’t really drink anymore, he said that was too bad because he just made a special trip to the “candy store” in honor of my arrival. To which I replied, “I didn’t say that I can’t drink, just that I haven’t been lately.” The bottle of Dos Armadillos Silver tequila came out and we were putting away the cactus juice. Dinner was salad, potatoes, and a ribeye steak, Fantastic!! After dinner we retired to the upstairs porch with a bottle of Irish whiskey and a couple Cuban cigars. The cigars were long since smoked, half of the whiskey was gone, and Cinderella’s horses were mice again before we’d solved all the world’s problems and called it a night. Needless to say, I was moving a little slower this morning. It was a good time, but it’ll probably be a while before anything like that happens again… Thanks to Rolan and Debbie. I’ll be back – after I recover a little…. Ha ha

The H.L. Hunley was a submarine of the Confederate States of America that was the first combat submarine to sink a warship (USS Housatonic). Alas, Hunley was so close (20 feet or so) to the Housatonic that the exploding torpedo took her out as well. In 1995 a NUMA dive team led by none other than Clive Custler found her exact location under several feet of silt. The silt was carefully removed and in 2000, and after more than 136 years, she again saw the light of day. She is on display now and is supposedly South Carolina’s #1 tourist attraction. That’s where I was supposed to go on my way outta town this morning, as well as to check out some old plantation houses. However, for some reason I was a little hazy on the details of last nights conversations, and didn’t recall until I was already too far away to turn around and go back. Next time — if I remember.

This area is known as Lowcountry. It’s separated from Upcountry or Upstate by the Fall Line or Sandhills farther inland that delineated the shoreline for the dinosaurs. One of the most distinctive elements of the South Carolina and Georgia Lowcountry is the architecture. Lowcountry style home architecture developed in the late 1700s and is still in use today as the most efficient design for the hot subtropical climate of the southeastern United States. A raised first floor for the often swampy environment, high water tables, and tropical storm flooding. A broad hipped roof that extends over deep and large covered front porch that allow a shady sitting area that is often used as another living space. Large windows are used to allow warm inside air to escape in the cooler evening. Most modern Lowcountry homes feature a central open breezeway through the entire house allowing a cooling breeze to blow through the building. These days, everywhere you turn it’s Lowcountry this or Lowcountry that. At one point this morning, my GPS said my elevation was 22 feet below sea level, now that’s some Low Country four shore.

Halloween is getting closer and I’ve seen several decorations already. This one caught my eye and I decided to turn around and get a pic for y’all. That’s a spray painted round bale of hay about five feet tall. If someone had been outside I would have stopped and asked them what they were going to do with it after Halloween. I’m sure the cows won’t care about a little spray paint.

Even though it’s technically fall – the temps are screaming summer. I think it got up to 95° today, no telling what the heat index was. Staying on the back roads all day kept me cooler and stress free. Most of the roads were so devoid of traffic that I felt like I was the only one out there, and many of them were really nice smooth roads with enough twists and turns to require your complete attention.

I rolled into Sharpsburg around 4:30; eight hours after I left Charleston. By that time, the heat and the effects from my party last night were both down to quite tolerable. It was a great day out there riding through the Lowcountry and Georgia’s back roads. I’ll be for a little while, back on the road Tuesday.

It doesn’t matter how long I stay in Sharpsburg, when it’s time to go, I always want to spend another couple days. It was a great visit and we all had a very good time. I didn’t manage to get a picture of everyone because we weren’t ALL together at one time this year. Here is a picture from last year.

Natalie is turning into quite the softball player, pitching, hitting and playing 1st base. On Saturday we went to see her play in a softball marathon. To give you an idea of what I’m talking about, drive for an hour and get there by 7:30 AM; the last game wasn’t over until 11:00 PM!! And it was HOT out there. I didn’t stay until the end because I had to get to a Harley dealership and buy the stuff I needed to change my oil and brakes. Before I left I managed to haul Natalie off to the side and get a picture. She is 12 years old and 6 feet tall, and just the person that the opposing team doesn’t want to see walking to the mound. Her great grandfather pitched for the Atlanta Crackers way back when, and she and her brother both wear his number as a tribute.

This morning, my first objective was the Talladega National Forest. I picked a couple roads last night that I hoped would take me along the ridgeline of the southern edge of the Appalachian Mountains. The road out of Atlanta is a pretty good one and I think I’ve seen this plane in the front yard before but this time – I had to show you. The sign to the left says, “Learn to fly here.”

The road in the National Forest was just what I was hoping for, and I had the road all to myself. Some of the trees are even starting to lose their foliage, although I can’t imagine why, it’s been so warm – maybe they start to fall off after time whether it’s cool or not.

Cheaha Mountain is the highest natural point in the state of Alabama and is located within the Forest. I thought I’d walk up there and get a picture, but for some reason, it’s really hazy today, so I’m just going to borrow someone else’s picture.

The ride out of the forest was just as much fun as going in. I’m finally getting some of the outside nubs worn off the new tires. Even saw a couple bikes going in as I was going out. Next stop is one that I’ve been told by several people to make. The Barber Motorcycle Museum near Birmingham. Mr. Barber is a bazillionare that wanted to have the biggest and best -something- Nobody had the biggest collection of motorcycles, so that’s what he set out to do. This museum has over 1,000 motorcycles on display and some 700 others either on loan, being restored, or just waiting to be rotated into the museum.

The bikes here are pristine and 95% of them can be started up within an hour. I guess they are stored with some preservative oil and gas solutions that must be drained then regular oil and gas put in – or something like that. It is a VERY impressive display and I highly recommend it to anyone that has an interest in motorcycles. And I encourage you to click on the pictures so you can get a better look at a larger image.

This place is as clean as a surgical room, even the bathrooms are spotless. And, I mentioned that they have docents, that are happy to answer your questions and even give little mini tours if you’re interested. I could have easily spent ALL DAY here.

Another interesting thing about Long Haul Paul is that he holds the record for most miles ridden in a day. He started in the eastern United States and rode over 3 time zones and did it on the day Daylight Savings Time kicks in. He rode 2,000 miles in 28 hours (same calendar day though). He is still riding for MS, check out his web site – click here.

It’s not just motorcycles here, this 1958 Bel Air Convertible could not have looked better when it was on the show room floor. I wish I’d asked what the significance was, you know there is a really good story behind every car at a motorcycle museum.

I was there for almost 2 hours and next time I’m in the area, I’ll be going back. Of course they do have plenty of Harley Davidson motorcycles. This one is a 1913 Model 9A with the optional acetylene head light kit.

Okay – time to head out. Guess what’s right next door to the museum? I saw it on the way in but was so wrapped up in the bikes & stuff that I completely forgot about it.

I’m about walked out, but I am hungry and they almost always have a restaurant or deli or something in Bass Pro Shops. I was amazed at the road leading you in.

Lunch was good and the rest of the ride down to Tuscaloosa was good and uneventful. Tomorrow I’ll be starting at first light cuz they are going to be breaking heat records all over the place down here. Take Care……

When I started packing my motorcycle, by the dawn’s early light, there were ants crawling all over the front of my bike. I was sucking on some cough drops as I rode yesterday, and left a few in the faring pocket – oops. Whatever though, they were just those tiny sugar ants or whatever they are called, I wasn’t worried. Most of them hit the road while the bike was warming up. As for the rest, they were going for a ride. Of course I had that heightened awareness one gets and imagined I was feeling ants crawling on me for a couple hours. ONE time – it wasn’t my imagination – one was crawling into my left ear!! Of course I was thinking, Star Trek – Wrath of Khan. I got my glove off in record time and got a finger in there to halt his progress. New rule – NO food left in the fairing pockets.

One of the guys I used to work with in the FAA is called Gordo. Little did I know that he was named after a small town in Alabama. It was kinda funny to see Gordo Park, Gordo Library, Gordo Middle School, etc. The last time I saw that guy’s name in print so much was on the winners report at a golf tournament. Gordo, Alabama is named after the Battle of Cerro Gordo – an engagement in the Mexican – American war back in 1847.

A game I play in the farmlands is – what crop is that. Not much of that going on today though – almost everything has been harvested and looks like this.

Of course there is plenty of cotton still in the ground, even though much of it has been picked by now. I guess they try to plan their crops to be ready at different times hoping that the price for cotton will go up when theirs is ready to go to market. It takes about 160 days for cotton to go from seed to fluff and this will likely surprise you – it is ILLEGAL to grow cotton in your garden if cotton is a cash crop in your state. The reason – they don’t want you messin with the Boll Weevil Eradication Program.

One of the milestones today was crossing Ol’ Man River. I’ve been over this bridge a few times, mostly westbound. Not much traffic today.

This is a push tug going up stream with a raft of barges. It looks like 28 barges to me which I thought was an amazing amount, but after some research – that’s about right.

After I got into Arkansas it was time to ditch the helmet and I pulled over into a little rest area to secure it to the trunk bag. When I pulled in, a lady in front of me looked over and said that I reminded her of her brother. We chatted while I was getting my helmet strapped down. She mentioned something I hadn’t heard before and had to look up. She said that she and her brother were Irish Twins. If that leaves you scratching your head, as it did me – siblings born within 12 months of each other are said to be Irish Twins.

You probably know that Texarkana is on the border of Texas and Arkansas from the name if nothing else. Something unique about this town is that the center line of main street is the state line. One side of the street is Arkansas and the other side is Texas. I’m on the Texas side of the street, of course.

It was another warm day, and I think it was 97° when I got into Texarkana but it’s not very humid and that makes a big difference. I’m looking forward to cooler weather but, for now, I’m happy with the dryer climate.

This morning I had a fairly short way to go and a little extra time to make it happen which is just the way I planned it. Going straight into the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex from the east means that you’re going to be in traffic and on the slab for A-WHILE. Flower Mound is a little northwest of Fort Worth so my plan was to head for the northern border between Texas and Oklahoma, and go far enough west that I could come into Flower Mound from north, avoiding most of that crowded concrete.

Right after I got gas this morning I saw a rundown shack with big letters, painted long ago, on the side – BBQ. I shook my head and wondered how long it’s been since this place served anything to eat. Well – it was just about then that I saw the smoke coming out of the grill just behind the shack. Undoubtedly that was today’s lunch being prepared. I should have turned around and taken a picture. If I’d been there around lunch time – you can bet, I woulda had a sandwich. I saw this place a little later, it doesn’t look like they’re going to be open today, but I’d eat here in a heartbeat.

It wasn’t long before I came across the state mammal of Texas resting comfortably in eternal slumber. The number of Texans who have actually seen an armadillo in the wild is smaller than 1%. So this is about the only view anyone gets of these little guys.

The nine banded armadillo is a curious mammal. They’re mostly nocturnal and prefer to feed on grubs, ants and termites but will eat just about anything. Related to the anteater they have long sticky tongues and sharp claws to dig their food out of the ground and dig their dens. They have few predators and are prolific breeders so they are likely coming to a town near you. That is – unless it gets pretty cold where you are in the winter; they can’t tolerate that. To find more interesting stuff on the armadillo (and see pictures of them alive), click here.

My aunt, back in Lexington, was telling me that one of the things she really missed about the west was the wide open spaces, because out here you can’t see the forest for the trees. I’ve heard that term before but only ever thought it was an expression used for someone who is too involved in the details of a problem to look at the situation as a whole. But it really does have a literal translation east of the Mississippi River. Wherever you go, it seems like there are so many trees on either side of the road that you can’t see anything else. I was starting to feel like my aunt and I’ve only been in the east for a couple weeks. Texas is about where the view begins to improve. So, while you might not see too much in this picture to look at – the fact that I can see “out” is very nice for me.

When I got to Paris, I thought that it would be neat to have breakfast there – Breakfast in Paris. So I did what anyone would do – Googled best breakfast in Paris, TX. I took the top recommendation and set my GPS. The second recommendation was Denny’s so I had a little trepidation. When I pulled up in front of McKee’s 24 hour Family Restaurant the parking lot was busting at the seams and my anxiety faded away. It was almost lunch time but I was going to have breakfast. The menu was kinda limited but I still had high hopes.

Flavorless gravy thickened with corn starch, ham & egg scramble with no seasoning (salsa was almost ketchup), & cold hash browns. I was hungry and I ate it but I won’t be going back. However, breakfast wasn’t a total bust – this is a local’s place and I could clearly hear 4 or 5 different conversations. I’m not a people watcher but I do like hearing other people talk about their lives and experiences. I hardly noticed how bland my food was.

Down the road in Bonham, TX, I ran across the Fort Inglish Village and Museum and pulled in. Baily Inglish moved from western Arkansas and founded Bonham, TX back in March 1837. I don’t remember the exact details but he brought his 6 children out after his wife died, remarried in Texas and had 9 more children – WOW. The buildings here are so small that today you would be disappointed if you got one for a garden shed. These folks were raising large families in them and participating in the activities required to increase their numbers. It’s pretty amazing – I’d love to go back in time and see what day to day life was really like for the pioneers – and the mountain men – and the Lewis & Clark Expedition, etc., etc.

I thought I was far enough west that I could at least start heading a little south toward my final destination, but I should have checked my map a little more closely. I ended up on the north side of Dallas and rode about 15 miles on surface streets getting to Flower Mound. It was plenty warm out. but not the blistering, record heat that I’ve been riding in for the past several days. It was plenty warm out there, however, I thoroughly enjoyed all but those last 15 miles.

Flower Mound, TX is the home of Vangie and Bill. I worked with Vangie way back in the early 80’s at Burbank, Air Traffic Control. In fact, she was one of my instructors when I was in training. We have stayed in touch all this time and it’s always a pleasure to visit with them. Bill is a retired B-757 & B-767 pilot and a fellow Harley rider. He is also very involved with the Patriot Guard Riders, an organization which ensures dignity and respect at memorial services honoring Fallen Military Heroes, First Responders and honorably discharged Veterans. We enjoyed the afternoon and evening chatting and watching a good game on Thursday Night Football – Rams 29, Seahawks 30.

This morning we headed out for breakfast and it was a good one. Not so much that I had to waddle out of the restaurant either. I headed out on my bike while Bill and Vangie climbed back into Bill’s Porsche to enjoy the beautiful morning on their way back home.

As I said before, Bill is a bike rider and knows all the roads in the area. Last year he escorted me out of the state on one great motorcycle road after another. This year he gave me directions and sent me on my way. I wasn’t able to follow his route exactly but I did manage to make it to this corner in Forestburg. I’m parked in front of the grocery store and diner. The metal building next door is the feed store, hardware store, and sporting goods store. There is only one register near the front door of the grocery store the guy at the register is the only one there. Someone is back in the diner to take your order and then cook your food – but that’s it. Very quaint and small town.

Bill told me that these roads were every bit as good as the roads we took last year and I have to say – I agree. Enough to require your attention and have fun along with plenty to see as you go. I missed a turn somewhere and didn’t see a couple things I was looking forward to – but there’s always next time.

What’s REALLY AWESOME is that it looks like it’s not going to get very hot today. There is supposed to be a cold front moving in and the high clouds are keeping the sun from beating down on me. Of course today is going to be a relatively short day on the bike, you can make the trip in less than 3 hours if you’re in a hurry. In a hurry is something I am definitely NOT. It’s all about enjoying the journey – that’s what I’m doing. My route and relaxed pace took me just over 6 hours.

The Taovoyas Indian Bridge crosses the Red River, which is the boundary between Texas and Oklahoma in this area. It was built in 1992 to eliminate one of the longer stretches of the Red River without a crossing. There is some traffic over this bridge but both times I’ve been here it has been extremely light. It’s a cool place for a picture though.

One of the places I needed to go this afternoon was Doc’s Handmade Boots down in the Stockyards area of Oklahoma City. Three years ago Bert told me about Doc’s and I went down there and ordered a pair of boots. Those boots are some of the best I’ve ever owned, so I ordered another pair. That was a year and a half ago. Now, I know that exotic leathers are sometimes difficult to come by and that custom made boots take time. A year and a half is a bit long but Doc’s got the best prices around for his boots (by a lot) and the quality is excellent. I was in Virginia when I got Doc’s call letting me know my boots were ready,. I told him not to mail them, that I would be coming to pick them up. I am very happy with my new boots and my next pair will be coming from Doc’s. Next time though, no exotic leather.

I didn’t come back to OKC just for a pair of boots. My friend Bert invited me to join him and his wife on a little fishing trip. They charter a boat to take them fishing for striped bass on Lake Texoma at least a couple times a year. I was invited last year but it just didn’t work out. This year I kinda set my bike ride up around being back in OKC in time to join in on the striped bass fishing charter. And boy howdy, what a great trip. We were pulling away from the dock at first light and had almost 40 fish in the boat before noon. Nothing really big but all of them were fun to catch and will be good to eat. And it was a real treat having someone else do all the captain’s duties. Thanks Bert – for everything.

I don’t normally like starting out on the bike in the dark but this morning I was sneaking out of Bert & Mary’s house over an hour before sun-up. We all got up very early to go fishing yesterday and went to bed early last night. I woke up before 5:00 and thought that instead of tossing and turning I should be putting miles behind me – Albuquerque is a long ways away. Turns out I wasn’t the only one awake. We said our good byes and I was out of there by 6:10. It wasn’t cold but I did have my sweatshirt and heavier gloves on.

By the time I got to Elk City, OK (about 100 miles) it was time to change from my clear glasses to my sun glasses and make another adjustment. Seems like it’s always colder just after the sun comes up and today was no exception. I was thinking that I might be shedding some clothing after the sun started shining on my back but instead a cold wind blowing from the north had me trading my cool weather gear for my leathers, top and bottom and my winter gloves.

After putting in 100 slab miles I was ready to get off the beaten path and headed for the road less traveled. I knew that it was going to add to the number of miles I would be traveling and the slower speeds would make the going a little slower, but I figured that I’d gotten such an early stat this morning I could afford it. Ahhh – back on the side roads. I would imagine that this is what it used to look like back when the wagon trains were crossing this part of the Texas panhandle. Yes, these are buffalo, outside Wheeler, TX.

They weren’t that interested in me getting very close to them but you can see that they are pretty thick here. The babies were curious and jumping around.

Just down the road, main street in Pampa, TX is still brick. In 1888, the Santa Fe Railroad was constructed through the area where Pampa would be established. A rail station and telegraph office was built, and the townsite was laid out. The town looks pretty dead, but it’s fairly early on Sunday morning. Brick streets might hold up well but they have lots of irregularities (humps, bumps, & holes). Building a really good base before laying the bricks down probably wasn’t something they considered back when they put these roads in.

Farther down the road it is once again time to play – what is that crop?

They grew this stuff in the Willcox, AZ area, where I grew up, and I always called it maize. However, I didn’t want to get it wrong so I did some checking. Maize isn’t technically wrong but that is a very wide category that includes corn. This is sorghum or milo. It can be used for just about as many things as corn can, but in this area the sorghum is most likely used for cattle feed. It’s better in some ways than corn for the cattle and doesn’t take as much water to grow. All I knew back in Willcox was that after they harvested it – the maize (sorghum) fields were THE place to go dove hunting.

The agriculture in this part of Texas are a big part in the success of all the cattle feeding in the area. Just outside Dalhart, TX there are three large cattle feeding operations. I took a panorama picture but it didn’t really show what I wanted to. Take my word for it, there are tens of thousands of cattle in this lot alone. Between the three feed lots near Dalhart I’d guess that there are 150,000 head. I found out that 40,000 head eat about a MILLION pounds of feed every day. It’s a fine science too – they mix alfalfa, corn, sorghum, vitamins, and whatever else the cattle need to be finished to market standards.

If there’s over a million pounds of food going in every day – you know where I’m going here right… At every one of these places there are mountains of manure. They store it until it can be used as fertilizer, mostly on the surrounding farms that provide the feed. It’s an interesting business and I found a very good source for more information – click here.

Leaving Dalhart, the difference between getting to Albuquerque on the interstate or the back roads was over 150 miles and four and a half hours. It’s times like this, I’m grateful that there is a faster and more direct route. That cold north wind was with me all day. Two weeks ago I couldn’t imagine thinking that I would like it to get warmer, but that’s exactly what I’m hoping tomorrow holds. Great day today, even the slab miles weren’t bad.

As I was packing my bike for the last time this morning, I was thinking back about this year’s cross country ride, and how blessed I am to have such great family and friends. There will come a time when I can’t make these sojourns anymore and I am not looking forward to that eventuality. However, that’s down the road (pun intended – sorry) and until then you can expect me to be on my bike and darkening your doorstep or in-box as the case may be, and I am looking forward to that. I stayed on Interstate 40 all the way today, and there’s really not that much to see, besides, we did that four weeks ago on my way eastbound. So – I’m going to thank you for your participation and hope you enjoyed the ride. Please always remember, and don’t ever forget – “The only impossible journey, is the one you never begin.”