ALL CLEAN AND UNTESTED
seventy four
seventy three
FINALLY
This is San Diego after a morning ride up the Silver Strand form Otay on the border. I had slept in a bad neighborhood in the back of the truck. Dropping the keys off was a thrill. I knew I could do this, but didn't know what to expect. I was about to find out that's for sure. After the first twenty miles I knew this was a dream come true.
seventy two
ONE OF MY FAVORITE PICTURES
I handed my camera to a very nice woman who took this great picture.
The history of this place still gives me goose bumps. Most of the tourists were
not speaking English, which caused me to wonder if Americans still visited this
place.
If you don’t think we are at war go to Washington DC. When I was a kid
we could drive in front of the White House, take tours of the White House and the Capitol Building, I actually see President Nixon. Now there are as many police as tourists and I think
much of the tourists are undercover police.
The White House is being surrounded
by walls, and the Capitol is a series of check points and searches. My odd
looking bike probably made people nervous so I kept my distance. I spent an hour people
watching in a Starbucks on K-street. A homeless guy and I shared some freeze
dried meals by the Vietnam Memorial. Marine One landed behind the White House,
and the Secret Service escorted someone through the busy street in black SUV's.
The trip from Maryland brought me though the worst parts of the district. This
ten square miles is run by Congress, and just think they also try to run the
country.
seventy one
INVISIBLE IN PLAIN SIGHT
Not every place I traveled was quiet and safe; I traveled
through some large cities with some rough neighborhoods. I live in the Phoenix
area and ride through some crazy places.
The beauty of a bike is that it goes
slow enough to see, but fast enough to not really be there. Riding silently
through the roughest neighborhoods is a skill.
I have learned to be invisible,
in front of everyone. This sounds crazy but with body language and the short
time it takes to pass through an area. The worst that happens is an occasional
look of, “what the heck is that nut doing on that bicycle”. Then by the time
they noticed, I’m gone.
When I make eye contact I nod and smile. I still think the vast
majority of people are friendly and kind, some places just have a higher
percentage of jerks. There is always the chance of just being "it". If
you want to avoid this possibility altogether, stay in bed.
seventy
FLASH FROM THE PAST
This was called Young’s Inn, we stayed here several weeks
while on vacation in the seventies. We drove our Fiat 124 Sports Coupe, another
great way to see New England.
It was strange to find this place so many years later.
There also was seafood carryout in the place to the right. I ate ten pounds of
fried clams from there, and drank a lot of Canadian beer.
We were young and in love,
those were special days. To be 3000 miles from home on a bike and now looking
back through time was a strange feeling.
sixty nine
$12 CABINS
These are the small cottages In Hampton Beach, New Hampshire, we stayed in in 1975 and 1976 for $12. They were like miniature houses with kitchens and everything, I think they were built in the twenties. They were closed but will be reopened under new management soon. What would they cost today?
sixty eight
A FAMILIAR BOARD WALK
This was Ocean City Maryland, a place I have visited many times thirty
years ago. The thing I noticed about beaches was that they all have their own
unique personality. I saw so many beaches in 2004, San Francisco to San Diego and Florida to Maine.
Some beaches are beach front private homes and stony
shorelines that are great for finding sea shells at low tide. The long white sand
beaches with white surf and surfers. Just a warning, never ever use those portable toilets. Still
others are strangely empty, perhaps the 50 degree water was a factor.
I watched
young Canadians surf in Maine, with light wet suits, no boots, gloves or hoods. But these are the same people who play ice hockey, perhaps my desert rat wimp factor is
showing.
There are flat hard packed sand beaches suitable for truck and car traffic.
Some are places to take your family. Some you you get drunk, get a tattoo and
get lucky.
I enjoyed them all, as I slowly drifted through.
sixty seven
TOBACCO COUNTRY?
On a bike you don't need or want super highways, the two
lane country roads are perfect. This is a quiet road through Connecticut and to my surprise it
was tobacco country.
I was not expecting tobacco this far north. I learned later that most of these leaves were used in cigar making for the outside wrapping.
We have a preconceived notion of what places are like until we actually visit.
This mode of travel allows you to see and feel everything. Name a state I have
traveled through and I remember the terrain, bugs, accents, food, climate, smells and
the people.
I have driven across country several times. I ate the same foods in
the same service plazas, passed through cities and gaged the size by the number of
exits. The only people I did meet were at gas stops fueling up like me.
Coast to
coast the freeways looks the same. However, the pace on a bike and the need to
camp and eat puts me in touch with people and places in a very special way.
sixty six
THE GREAT FLOOD OF NEW JERSY
This is the high water from the twelve inch local rainfall
two days before. It was the aftermath of a late summer hurricane. The water
looks like it may be touching, but it was a few feet below the bridge. It
was however many feet over flood stage which was an all-time record.
The bridge was open when I got on. I was
taking my time seeing the sights until the bridge let out a deep vibrating groaning creek.
The bridge was now closed as I reached the other side. I was the last one off of the bridge. I’m glad I made it across, it
would have been a long detour.
sixty five
THE GREAT BICYCLE CRASH
This is a steel bridge in New Hampshire, near Portsmouth. The
surface was made of squares cast iron plates. Each plate had small uneven steel pegs that made it difficult to cross even in a car.
The thin tires on a bicycle made it even more dangerous in dry conditions. It was raining that
day which made it impossible.
As I started across the bridge I was slow and steady, but after two swerves it
kicked over and I caught my hand under the handlebar and the full weight of me
and the bike. I still have a slight bend in the handlebar.
My hand really hurt and my
knuckle was ripped open. I banged my knee but that was a “walk it off” wound. I
didn't think I had hit my head, but my helmet told a different story. The helmet and my head were not
broken, but I had hit enough to make a proper mark, in the helmet.
My rear pannier was hanging
ugly and my chain was off. There was a good Samaritan who offered to help, but
I was in pain and stupid angry. I didn't swear at first but I was short with him so he
moved on.
I walked over the bridge and looked back to see the sign that said,
“DO NOT RIDE BICYCLES ON THE BRIDGE". I knew there was one on the other side,
but I wouldn't have read it anyway.
The Good Samaritan returned and I took it to a new level of bullheaded stupid and turned him down again. There I was broken bike, breading hand, crushed hand and it started to rain harder.
It started raining even harder as I cleared the
next hill. It was eerie when I heard a car crash back at the bridge. I had no
idea where I was headed, but I had examined my cut and knew the tendon was intact.
I still needed an x-ray and stitches but mostly I was mad at myself.
Even though this was an epic fail, this was simply the price of
having fun.
sixty four
BOB'S BICYCLE SHOP AND URGENT CARE
This is Bob's Bicycle Shop in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. I
never spent a dime in this place but I wish I had. The day I walked in with a
broken bike, smashed and bleeding hand after a three mile walk in the rain was
a bad day.
Bob took one look at me and told his mechanic to drop everything and drive me to the hospital.
He also told me he would take care of my bike.
A few hours later after x-rays
and some stitches I returned. He had called around and got me a rate on a
nearby hotel and let me work on my bike like I was a local bike shop rat.
I
was preoccupied with questions about finishing the tour and the pain and I
really didn't thank them properly. I holed up until noon the next day which
was when the rain let up and continued on.
If you are ever in the area, stop
and give Bob your business, he and his crew are great people.
sixty three
SQUIRRELS ARE CUTE BUT A LITTLE STUPID
This sounds a little sick, but on the edges of the nation’s
highways there are a large amount road kill. As I came upon each
victim I made a mental note of the animal type.
I saw cats, dogs, chickens,
a horse, several deer both whitetail and mule, a bobcat, red fox, rabbits, a cow, armadillo,
possums, raccoons, snakes and assorted birds.
The one thing I noticed was how stupid
squirrels can be. I saw over 100 squirrels on the east coast trip alone.
The strangest one was a large bag of
popcorn smashed in the middle of the road with two dead squirrels nearby. I deducted the popcorn was
discarded from a passing car then discovered by one of the squirrels. He then called for his squirrel friend. I know this because squirrels travel in pairs, remember Chip and Dale.
They were probably having a
conversation inside of the bag. Excited about their discovered popcorn stash for
next winter.
Perhaps they noticed the oncoming sound of the pickup truck but it was too late SPLAT!
Two
more dead squirrels on the score board. The long stretches of lonely highway do things to a man's mind...
sixty two
DRY DOCK
I was extra tired and hungry as I reached the bridge at the
end of the outer banks of Virginia. I stopped at a campground where they wanted
$25 for a place in the lawn by the store plus the bathroom would be closed at
five o'clock so I said no thanks.
I had to find a place for the night somewhere because after the bay bridge there was a military camp with no stopping permitted signs for the next ten miles. Commando camping was out because I could end up in jail.
I asked for ideas
at a nearby marina and met Andy. Andy was a local handy man who lived in the
marina. He said they didn't have camping, but he didn't like the guy who owned
the campground. He checked with the owner then asked me for ten bucks.
I
figured it was for the owner, but I think Andy used it for beer. He told me where
to find food which was back about five miles. The payoff was the best shower on
the planet.
It was a fairly new plywood building with warped floors and bugs. I didn't
see them, choosing not to look but I know they were there.
The shower had no exhaust
fan so it soon turned into a steam sauna. The water was extra hot and pressure from the two headed shower was powerful. One was for massage and the other was
pins and needles. I hadn't taken a shower that long since I was in junior high.
I cooked a freeze dried dinner then sat on Andy's porch. I drank coffee while Andy drank the beer I think I
paid for. We talked about the food from the bay, clams, crabs, and oysters. I think he was
related to that guy in Forest Gump.
Andy told me about a boat that was in
storage, where I could sleep. It had a cabin with a bed, and a lot of Andy's
brand if beer cans.
It was going to rain so I would be high and dry during
the rainy night.
Morning came and the rain stopped. I was mostly packed so after coffee and a bathroom I headed down the road. Any was a good man.
sixty one
PERFECTER DAY
sixty
THE NON-TOURIST TOURIST ON TOUR
A ferry ride on the Outer Banks was a welcomed rest. They didn't charge me for
some reason, I guess I didn't take up much room.
I talked with some local
people who for some reason didn't view me as a tourist. In fact they talked about how
they didn't like "the tourists”.
I can't figure that one, maybe I ran out
of semi clean shirts. A motel is in the cards, it looks like heavy rain.
fifty nine
NAKED CLERGYMEN
This is the smallest diner in New Jersey, says the owner. I
stopped by chance and found the place empty but open. The owner was a
friendly old man who Billy Crystal may have used for his old Jewish guy character.
He pointed to the wall which displayed the proud history of this quaint eatery.
His daughter was the cook and she filled the work space completely. I ordered
their house special a grilled cheeseburger and fries which hit the spot.
I then asked if they
had a restroom. They directed me to the YMCA two doors down. The local
clergymen from all of the local churches were having their weekly basket ball game.
They had finished and were showering while
engaged in a theological debate. The bathroom was in ear shot. That was the weirdest locker
room conversation I have ever heard.
Naked clergymen in an intense
theological discussion. Touring is like a box of chocolates you never know
what you're going to get.
fifty eight
NICE PEOPLE
I asked the
people working in the garden if they allowed people to sleep by the trail that ran by Rails To Trails through Pennsylvania. I no sooner
said that when they offered their yard.
They told me where to get water, about a really nice portable bathroom by a tool and die shop nearby, an
electrical outlet I could use and that I could eat anything I wanted from their garden.
They said
goodnight and went into their house for the night. I picked some perfect tomatoes,
bell peppers, two ears of over ripe sweet corn, and some tiny red skinned potatoes.
I had some canned chicken, so I boiled it with the corn, potatoes and peppers.
It wasn't bad the tomatoes were great as I ate them like apples.
Just another
act of kindness from total strangers.
fifty seven
RAILS TO TRAILS
fifty six
DON'T JUDGE PEOPLE BY THEIR COVER
This was a Presbyterian church in South Carolina. There were
people outside so I asked if I could camp in their picnic area behind the church.
It was separate from the building so I thought they wouldn't mind.
The Pastor
agreed and then offered the use of the church shower which was very welcomed.
He said to remember, “We are Presbyterians”, which must have been an inside joke.
They were having a mid-week Bible study and Boy Scout meeting. Afterward an
older couple walked out to where I was cooking my evening meal. They were probably in their
eighties and both had walking canes.
They asked the usual questions then began
to tell me a powerful story. In their twenties they got married and took a bicycle journey from Seattle to San Diego, then across the country to Florida
and up the coast to New England.
These were real pioneers who did this in the
early fifties. There were no bicycle routes or bike maps, equipment was
primitive by today's standard and no one was doing organized tours. It took
them two years because they had to get jobs along the way for money.
I went from the wild eyed pioneer nomad to the pampered light weight with
credit cards, a cell phone and high tech gear. While we talked I saw the
twinkle in their eyes as they revisited the memories if their youth.
They were
so humble about what they had done and perhaps they had not thought about it
much until I appeared. We feel we have discovered something brave and new and
then we discover people like these.
Gary Fisher had not yet imagined doing
light shows for the Dead and building off road bicycles, the ride across America was twenty years away, and
most bikes had one gear and weighed a ton.
I kick myself for not getting their address,
but the short time we talked was eye opening.
fifty five
THE HOT SWELTERING SOUTH
The large roach type bugs moved in waves as they feel the vibration of my bike. I stopped to study then and they stared back. This was the perfect place to grow bugs, big bugs.
The people living here must love bugs.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)