Saturday, July 14, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant - Day 11, Washingtonians Crossing the Delaware

We woke up to brilliant sunshine and very warm temperatures in Goshen, NY today. One last time I wrote out directions on a yellow sticky note for the windshield -- this time a bit more detailed with Mapquest directions to our hotel in downtown Philly. After our free breakfast of generic "Holiday Inn O's" and toast, we loaded up the bikes. Two ladies enjoying a morning smoke came over, and sounding to the world like Edith Bunker with the thickest Brooklyn accents we've heard, asked about the bikes and how much they cost (one lady saying her son wanted one). We told them and they were surprised at the cost (the bikes we are on list for $18K), and we had a nice chat about our travels. They were here for one of the weddings at the hotel today.

Indeed it was so warm and sunny that we decided to attempt to even out our tans (our arms looking like they'd been dipped in brown paint) by riding shirtless. We sprayed what's left of our sunscreen all over and throwing all sense of decency to the wind, rode out of Goshen bare chested. The morning sun felt so nice on my skin, and the quiet back road we were on through the corn fields reminded me of the opening scene of the movie "Love Valor and Compassion" where the young Ramon enjoying a similar road takes his shirt off and sits on the back hood of a VW bug and throws his arms to the sun as his friend James drives them to upstate NY. Hard to do on a bike, but doable. We had to pause to allow Tony to cease his hysterical laughter. He had the camera so there is no corresponding picture of him shocking the NJ countryside.

We had a very short ride anyway today, so we took our time and enjoyed the NY, NJ and PA backroads, and went diagonally across NJ before crossing the Delaware into PA and riding down the west shore of the Delaware River along the old Delaware and Pennsylvania canal. (You will recall we went on the north side of the river when we left Philly last week.) We stopped at a nice biker friendly bar that overlooked the river for lunch -- there must have been a dozen bikes parked out front and we passed many other bikers enjoying the cool ride along the river.

All too soon we were nearing the outskirts of Philly and had to hop on the freeway to get into downtown. Riding on a freeway in a strange big city is a nerve racking experience, but it was Saturday and traffic was very light. We motored into town and right down past Constitution Hall where the Declaration of Independence was written. Tony, as always the showman, while we were waiting for the light, launched into his litany of tunes from the musical "1776", to which I had to tell him "Sit down, Tony, sit down..for God's sake Tony sit down..." the light changed and on we went to the hotel. The hotel itself was an interesting experience. Last night we'd booked a Rodeway Inn right down town at a decent price. When we got there we found a dirty little place with a malfunctioning elevator, a desk clerk who gave us a room already occupied (and did so to two other guests while we were there too), and no promised Internet connectivity. We left there and went to a real hotel, a nice Marriott three blocks away. Heck, we can splurge on a fancy hotel once on this trip.

Even Mariott's will take dirty bikers. And one thing you get while on the road all day is dirty, which is why it's so nice to check into a hotel and jump into a shower. Witness the washcloth that I used to just wipe my face when we checked in. Need I say more. A nice refreshing shower after a day on the road is why we stay in hotels while on the road rather than camping in a tent.


It's been a great 11 day trip. We took some great roads thanks to our friends at the Camden, NJ and Framingham, MA HOG chapters. Riding in today we passed a sign for the New Jersey Turnpike, which made me start to hum Simon and Garfunkle's song "America", with a line in it "...counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike, they've all come to look for America..." That's why we ride, and why we explore the roads. I'm not sure what exactly we are looking for, so therefore you can't really find it I suppose. However, we went through a lot of the country -- nine states and areas neither of us have ever been. We met some cool characters, and we ate some great meals. We racked up about 2200 miles on the bikes, and went through our country's early history along the Delaware River, the Boston Post Road, and the Pilgrim's landing at Provincetown. We went through the East's great mountain ranges -- the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the Green Mountains of Vermont, and the Adirondacks and Poconos of New York. We past countless Revolutionary and Civil War battlefields and old forts, and went through towns that were founded in the late 1600s. So did we "find" America? Like I said, I don't think you can find it, you can just live it, and so far I think we have. Remember, there is no wrong turn, as long as it leads to more pavement.

Tomorrow we'll take the bikes back to the dealer, hop on the train to Newark and then fly home to Seattle. It will be good to get back home, to the house and our bed and the dogs. We hope you've enjoyed coming along with us on this trip.

From the Mariott in downtown Philly --

Gary and Tony

Friday, July 13, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant - Day 10, "They went forth unto the land of Goshen"

Like the Children of Israel leaving Egypt, we left Montpelier VT, not knowing exactly where we'd go, what route we would take, and where we would end up. Though we weren't in bondage, we went forth, and ended up, like like the Children of Israel, in the Land of Goshen. Our Goshen is in New York however, but it truly must be a similar Blessed and Holy Land -- as there is to be a wedding in the Holiday Inn Express off Exit 127 of NY Route 17 tomorrow. In the lobby was the grand announcement. I suppose it's a step up from the Shiny Pines Mobile Home Court rec room -- with the proud father of the bride giving away his precious at noon tomorrow in Meeting Room A of the Holiday Inn Express.

Indeed the Holy Spirit seems to be everywhere -- Tony has been reading "Mormonism for Dummies", a real book from the "For Dummies" series that he found in Barns And Noble just before we left. He said he's learned more about my family, our vernacular, and our peculiarities by reading this book than in the past 11 years. He even said he was feeling a burning in his boosam at times, but I told him it was more than likely the chili covered nachos he had for dinner.

We left Montpelier a tad later than we'd wanted to. When we got up it was raining, but according to the Weather Channel, it was due to stop and so we waited out the rain after breakfast and hit the road at 10am. We rode past the small State Capitol, with it's dome gleaming in the sun, and headed south on VT-100. This road came highly recommended by both the HOG Road Atlas and other riders we'd talked to, so we were looking forward to it. It did not disappoint. This probably ranks right up with the great roads we've ridden both on this trip and elsewhere. The picture at the top of the post is from some point on the route, which heads more or less due south and runs through the heart of the Green Mountains, past great farms, along the Mad River, past small villages and covered bridges. We both agreed it is exactly how we pictured Vermont would be. We went past some of the great ski resorts of the east too -- Sugarbush, Killington, and Pico -- all large for the area but nothing like what we've got back home in the west.

When we got to Killington we had some decisions to make -- do we keep heading south on VT-100 into western MA, or do we turn west and go into upstate NY? We wanted to avoid NYC traffic, and we wanted to get as far south as we could without trouble so we would only have a short hop into Philly on Saturday. There was no burning bush to point the way, only our maps and intuition, and Tony's Blackberry which he was busy using to pull up radar and weather info for each route. We chose to head west into NY and then head south past Albany and end up somewhere close to the NJ border for the night. The weather looked clear with some storms far to the north. However, as soon as we went around Killington Mountain and into Rutland, VT, there was a doozy of a thunderstorm waiting for us and we hit it just as we crossed over into NY. So much for the accuracy of the weather.com. We got drenched as there was no overpass or pull out where we could pull off and put on our rain gear. However, the sun came out as we came into Whitehall, NY and we dried off rather quickly. We stopped for lunch in Fort Ann, NY, right along the Champlain Canal and had a HUGE meatloaf sandwich that kept me filled up until well into the evening.

We headed south on US-4, aiming now towards Albany. Yesterday we rode on US-1, US-2, and US-3 -- today we are on US-4, and we'd been on US-6 and US-7 already, somehow though we've managed to miss US-5. Just an odd observation. US-4 however was in bad need of some paving -- there was a BUmp evERy fiFTy feET regULar aS ClockWOrk whICh drOVe us QUite MAd foR At leASt tEN miLEs. These were caused by the expansion joints being paved over but not smoothed down. We ducked under I-90 which, although it was a freeway (or here a turnpike/toll road) would take us directly home if we wanted to, as it ends at Safeco Field in downtown Seattle. If it were me, I'd rather head west on US-2 or US-6 than I-90, but it will be good to get home on Sunday none the less.

In Albany we picked up US-9W and rode down the west (hence the "w") side of the Hudson River until we came to Woodstock. That's right, THE Woodstock, home of the 60s rock fest/drug party. There happened to be a Harley dealership too, so we stopped in for a rest and a t-shirt, and Tony used that time to try and find a hotel room for tonite. We'd planned on going to Port Jervis, NY, but since it's sort of a "resort" area and it's Friday night, we called ahead. None of the standard Quality Inn, Hampton Inn, Holiday Inn places had availability (good thing we'd called first), and so we were directed to this lovely Holiday Inn Express in Goshen, which is about 30 miles from Port Jervis. From Woodstock we had the choice of some NY back roads, or the NY State Thruway, which is a toll road. We debated for a while, but the weather was so nice, and the temperature about perfect, we decided to take the back roads. This caused us to wander like the Children of Israel all over Ulster county (hey, we got our "U" county for the Harley ABC contest anyway). The sun started to go down, and off in the distance we could see lightning from a thundershower to the east. We even ended up back at Orange County Choppers where we were on Sunday. Here we picked up I-84 for the short run to Goshen, where we checked into the hotel and went into the small town of Chester for a late supper.

Tomorrow we will retrace our steps from Day One, heading down the Delaware River to Trenton and into Philly. So, we've wandered pretty much all over the North East these past 10 days, and we've got just a short day of riding left tomorrow. It's going to be sad to take the Heritage and Road King back to Barb's, but it's going to be good to be heading home as well, after all we are down to two pair of clean undies!

From the Holiday Inn Express in Goshen, NY
Gary and Tony

Thursday, July 12, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant - Day 9, Maine to Vermont


Well, we finally saw the Coast of Maine, and had a chance to ride up it for about 40 miles this morning. It's pretty much how we had pictured it for the most part -- rocky, with lots of harbors and bays. US-1 runs along the coast for almost the entire length of Maine, but we only took it for a few miles, and I'm suspecting that it gets much prettier, and much quieter the further North one goes. The stretch we rode -- indeed the common denominator for all the coastal roads we took in MA and NH as well as ME, was that they consisted of strings and strings of small towns, and endless rows of motels and resorts and "crab shacks" or "lobster shanty's", and tons and tons of tourists. The towns are quite charming, and we actually have plenty of time to study the architectural details as we are stuck in traffic. Case in point, this picture, taken in Camden, ME. This is at 10am and the traffic is stop and go for the entire length of town. It's tough on the nerves and on the hands constantly riding the clutch. We were very glad to turn inland and head north up to Bangor.

We pulled out of the Hampton Inn, in Rockport at 915am -- it was tough to get up as the bed was without a doubt the most comfortable one we've been on this trip, and this hotel the nicest as well. Harry Potter was good, and the dinner before the movie had spectacular. Now when you think of Maine, you think of Lobster right? Well next door to the hotel was an Applebee's, which we didn't want to go to unless we had to. The front desk suggested a place a mile up the road in the restored train station. As you know, if it has anything to do with trains I'm a happy guy, so up the road we went. This small train station has been restored, and the restaurant quaint with outstanding food. It always pays to ask the locals. While this place wasn't a seafood place, we did manage to have a spot of Maine lobster -- in a lobster rangoon appetizer.

Growing up the TV show M*A*S*H was a big part of my life, and if you know the show, you know that Hawkeye Pierce came from Crabapple Cove, Maine. Well, there is no Crabapple Cove listed -- but I suspect it looked a little like this. Growing up I always thought Crabapple Cove sounded so far away and romantic, and I had it pictured in my head. It's funny how pop culture can do that to you (there is no Shawshank either, from Shawshank Redemption, but I digress.) Maine, like Washington, also has a propensity for unpronounceable place-names based on Native-American words, although the Washington ones aren't as tough. Where out in Washington we have "Snoqualmie" and "Salish", and "Walla-Walla" -- in Maine it's a tongue-twisting nightmare with places like Ogunquit, and Skowhegan.

We turned off the coast road and north onto US-1A aimed for Bangor, Maine. The moment we turned off the coast route the traffic vanished, and we were able to make good time up to Bangor. As I often say, my motto is that I ride on the road to have a good time, not to make good time...BUT, there are exceptions, and sometimes you've got to let those big V-twins run! And you don't have a good time constantly clutching and shifting and braking despite the scenery. Bangor was the furthest north-east point on this trip -- and when 1A ended, we turned west on US-2 at it's beginning in downtown Bangor. Actually, it felt like turning home -- as we are now officially on the way home, having gone as far as we could on this trip. Heading west on US-2 really is homeward bound too, as US-2 -- if we were to follow it off into the sunset-- would take us home, eventually going up and over Stevens Pass and dropping down to the Sound to end in Everett, WA. The pull of that left turn was a pull towards home, and being on the road for 9 days it's good to aim for home at last. I admit, there is something that draws me to highway numbers, and I can't explain it, except that its a symbol of both the open road and it's draw, and the connection that we have to home. So when I see a road that I know leads both away from and back to the places I love, it becomes attached to me for some reason.

So we headed west into the sunshine on a glorious day in Central Maine, aiming ourselves to Montpelier, VT. US-2 was quiet and pretty much devoid of traffic and lucky for us, freshly repaved. Riding a motorcycle down a newly paved road is like skiing on fresh untracked snow, or skating after the zamboni smooths out the ice. We stopped for lunch at a small local "Dairy Barn" drive in -- sitting on a picnic table under a tree and enjoying the day and the rest. A nice older couple came up and the husband asked if we'd been to Sturgis (not yet we told him), and he gave us suggestions on roads to take and reminisiced about his friend who once had a '47 Harley after the war and headed out west on it. We roared out of the parking lot to the waves of his wife and himself, and kept ourselves pointed into the sunshine, all the time thinking how much of an adventure it would be to ride all the way home on US-2.

The flat central area of Maine gave way to the White Mountains on the border with New Hampshire, and like US-2 was leading us home, this felt like home. It was the closest we'd seen to anything that felt like riding back home -- with the weather, the scent, the feel of the land, and the vegetation, AND we'd moved far away from that blasted coast. We both agreed that riding the coast, for all it's cracked up to be, is not as enjoyable as a nice lightly traveled road heading west. Indeed it got cooler as we climbed higher in the White Mountains after crossing into New Hampshire and as the afternoon turned to evening, we had to stop and put on our jackets! That's a first for this trip.

We have noticed that there are far more churches in this part of the country than there are anywhere outside of Utah, where there are LDS chapels every few feet. However the churches out here, while predominantly white with steeples, that's it as far as commonality. Here they are different, where as in Utah they come out of a stock catalogue it seems. Here they are all different denominations, including several that billed themselves as "Full Gospel", which causes me to wonder "what about the rest? Do they only have 'partial gospel'?" I've yet to see a "half-gospel" or "partial gospel" or a "2/3 gospel" church in my travels.

We hit Montpelier about 730pm, pulling on as the sun started to sink low and gleam off the capitol dome. We didn't see any hotels on our way in, so we pulled into the local Chamber of Commerce information booth and found a brochure for a Quality Inn out by the freeway (which is why we didn't see any hotels on the way in.) We had a bit of difficulty finding the damn hotel too. The local "fun" cartoon map was not accurate or to scale, and we figured the easiest way to get there would be to get on the freeway and go up one exit. However, we got on the freeway going North when we should have got on going South. This gave us a lovely 20 minute, 15 mile tour of north Montpelier as the next place to turn around was 7 miles up the road. To top it off, the local Quality Inn was booked and so we took a room at the statley old "Capitol Plaza" right across the street from the state house.

We've got two more days of riding, and I've yet to map out the exact route. We can either head South through the Green Mountains of Vermont and end up somewhere in Western Connecticut (dangerously close to NYC), or we can head West into upstate New York and head south through the Adirondacks. Today we did a bit over 300 miles, went through three states, and got our faces royally sunburned as we headed on the road home. All too soon it's going to end.

From the Capitol Plaza Hotel in Montpelier, VT
Gary and Tony

The Road To Alice's Restaurant - Day 8, Off the Cape And Up The Coast


Provincetown is a party town, and as a result, we slept in a bit longer than we wanted. We spent last evening at several clubs with some friends, and then walked back to the hotel along the beach under the boardwalk. It got foggy after sundown, and remained foggy for much of the morning, so leaving as early as we'd hoped would have been difficult anyway. As it was, when we left just before 10am, after a nice breakfast on a sidewalk cafe where our friends walked by just as we were finishing up so we had a chance to say goodbye again, we were still in a bit of hazy fog riding out of Provincetown and down the Cape towards Boston, though it was surprisingly warm.

We set our sights on Bangor, Maine, which would be nearly 400 miles from Provincetown. In order to make that distance, and get through Boston, we'd have to spend a fair amount of time on freeways, so we'd be able to take the scenic route through Maine up the coast on US-1. Normally both Tony and I despise freeways for a number of reasons, but it's best summed up by a line from the Disney-Pixar movie "Cars", which has my vote for best movie of last year, as they discuss the merits of the old roads vs freeways..."People didn't use to drive the road to make good time, they drove on it to have a good time." Well, today we drove the freeway to make good time so we could drive the old road to have a good time later -- a bit of a trade, but worth it. Our late departure also allowed us to miss Boston traffic, as we hit the city about 1130, and ducked into the BIG DIG, otherwise known as the Thomas P "Tip" O'Neil tunnel. I have to say it was pretty cool, and we saw the skyline of Boston rise up before us, then sink into the tunnel for several miles, only to rise up again and see the city skyline in our rear-view mirrors.

We picked up US-1 right after coming out of the tunnel and followed it through North Boston and into New Hampshire. You know how out in in Seattle there are Starbucks coffee houses on every corner and sometimes on multiple corners? Well, in the north east, Starbucks are spotty, but Dunkin' Donuts are EVERYWHERE, and we found several places where they are on multiple corners. I have to ask if people in the Northeast navigate by Dunkin' Donuts like we in the Northwest navigate by Starbucks? "Go down the road, turn at Starbucks, then go three blocks, turn at the next Starbucks..."

The fog lifted as we got through Boston, but it was replaced by a couple of spotty showers that were strong enough to get us damp, but not strong enough to warrant pulling off and getting the rain gear on, and it stayed quite warm as well. Maybe the heat and humidity combination are what make Boston area drivers the rudest I've ever encountered.

This part of New England is dotted with small towns that still have the remnants of the early factories that started the industrial revolution -- mills that are along the waterways that powered their machines. Most of these places now house antique businesses, which again begs the question, where in the world does all this old furniture come from? However, it makes for nice scenery while riding, as these old roads dip and weave and move with the land, as did the old railways and canals. However, there are so many abandoned factories and buildings and rail lines it seems like this part of the country is in the depth of the 1930s depression. Indeed a common theme when talking with people is the lack of good paying jobs in this part of the country, which is why the west is so booming I imagine.

We only spent a few miles in New Hampshire before crossing over into Maine. Every state has a motto or saying on the signs designating the state line. Maine's is "Maine -- The Way Life Should Be." I think Connecticut says "The Birthplace of President George W. Bush -- We are So Sorry".... We had hopped for a nice ride along the rugged coast of Maine, but unfortunately where US-1 crosses into the state, it isn't so rugged, and is lined with outlet stores by the dozens, motels, "resorts" and lobster shanty restaurants. We hit a 10 mile stretch where our average speed was 20mph because of all the tourists and traffic to the beaches. We also observed throughout this trip that chainsaw carved bears are NOT unique to the Northwest, as we seem to see them everywhere, except along the coast, where, just like in Washington, they morph into yellow rain-slickered salty old sea captains, who look like they popped off a box of Gorton's fish sticks.

After Portland, ME the road got quiet again and we started to see the coast just like we thought it would be. However, the fog started to roll back in, and summer disappeared just as quickly and we had to get out our leather jackets! The delay in south of Portland also meant we wouldn't make it into Bangor, and we'd miss much of the coast in the dark, so when we rolled into Rockland, ME and saw a big new Hampton Inn with a multi-plex theater next door showing Harry Potter, we decided to stop for the night after rolling up a tad over 300 miles.
Tomorrow we'll continue up the coast to Bangor, which will be our furthest North-east point on this trip. We'll then turn west towards home on US-2, at it's starting point in Bangor and which, if we followed it all the way, would indeed take us home as it ends in Everett, WA. However, we'll cross over into the White Mountains of New Hampshire and then into the Green Mountains of Vermont, before heading south again towards Philly.

From Rockland, Maine..
Gary and Tony

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant - Day 7, NOTHING

Here we are at the End Of The Road -- at the tip of Cape Cod, past Provincetown, MA at the end of US-6. We took this just about sunset, after riding a couple of miles from our hotel. It's the only riding we've done today to speak of, and as you can see we did it in shorts (got to watch that primary cover! Gets a wee bit warm). The weather has been most pleasant, in the 80s, and a nice breeze coming in off of the Cape. Evening is nice especially.

We essentially did NOTHING today. Or at least tried to do nothing, I did have a few e-mails to answer and some work to do -- the Internet access here is in the lobby of this hotel, not in the rooms so I have to schlep the computer downstairs to work or to post this update. Cell phone access is spotty as well. My driver's license got here today too! Now I'm "legal" again and don't have to worry about getting pulled over or getting on the plane home. Mary had it sent overnight from Corning. We spent a fair amount of time laying by the pool getting tan and reading. The hotel we are in has a big Tea Dance every day at 4pm so they clear the pool deck and have the party there. Surprisingly the beach itself at the hotel is not that nice, nor is it anywhere along Provincetown, so most everyone stays in the pool deck areas. The nicer "beaches" are outside in the Cape Cod National Sea Shore, where the road ends and it's grassy and somewhat sandy, and what I'd pictured the Cape looking like before I got here.

Provincetown reminds me very much of Key West like I said yesterday, it's a beach town at the end of the road -- lots of "characters" who kind of fell off the face of the earth and landed here. Like the guy who came here 15 years ago and has been peddling a ped-a-cab ever since and a few illegal substances on the side. Or the old lady with fire red hair who runs the post office and refused to mail a box of our unwashed laundry we were shipping home unless we handed it to her personally and not buy stamps and put it in the mail box later.


Also like Key West, it's a compact little town, everything is walking distance, lots of shops (t-shirt ones being the most predominant), and a party town atmosphere. Even on the motorcycles its tough to get around. We had a great dinner of fresh Halibut, and will walk down the road to get an ice cream here shortly.

Tomorrow we'll head out fairly early to give us time to get off of the Cape and get through Boston and head up into Maine. We've spoken to a number of folks here and have been getting some wonderful suggestions of where to go in Maine and how to get there. The weather looks mixed -- with a chance of thundershowers, otherwise it says sunny and 70s, which beats the upper 90s we are hearing about back home in Seattle.

From the End of The Road in Provincetown, MA

Gary and Tony

Monday, July 09, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant - Day 6, To the End Of The Road

Greetings from Provincetown, MA -- quite literally the End Of The Road. Provincetown lies at the end of US-6, on the far tip of Cape Cod. It's quite literally as far as you can go on land, and is one of those "End Of The Road" kind of places like Homer, Alaska, or Key West, FL. You can't go any further and you have to turn back or stay. It's the folks that stay that make towns like these so unique and quirky at the same time. Provincetown is no exception, and reminds me very much of Key West -- lots of lost souls, old hippies, people who can't make it anywhere else -- and a town where the industry consists of t-shirt shops, ice cream stands, and bars - and in a few cases, all of them rolled up into one establishment!

As far as miles go, the route we took was just a bit over 200 miles -- but where it ends is a world apart from Stockbridge where we were last night. We pulled out of Stockbridge at 8am on the button and the sky was quite overcast with a heavy post-rain mist in the air. It had rained over night so the bike seats were nice and wet this morning. We debated the rain gear and decided to head out in just the leather this morning. Our first leg took us down US-7, which is lined with more antique shops than I thought could ever exist. I didn't think there was that much old furniture left in the world. We then turned on MA-23 through the heart of the Berkshires, and the heart of the rain storm that had left its mark on Stockbridge earlier. Just like us, the storm was headed east, and we went along for the ride at about the same speed. About 10 miles down the road it started to get very wet so we to put on the rubber suits. Just our luck, we pulled into the only wide spot on the road under a tree -- right in front of an old farm house with a very yappy Yorkie of some sort who we were afraid would wake up the world. We got the rubbers on and headed back out on the road. Even in the rain the Berkshires were very lovely, and the road a nice twisty two lane with no traffic. With the rain it took us about 90 minutes to get the 50 miles to Springfield where we rested at the local Harley dealer and took the time to get out of the rain gear and more importantly, re-map the directions.

Since this is such an unfamiliar part of the country, we found the easiest way to navigate is to carefully study the map, and then write down very simple directions on a yellow sticky note and put that on the inside of my windshield. Things like MA-23 to US-44 to CT-169. Unfortunately the sticky notes don't really stick in the rain, and the one for today had washed off somewhere way back in the mountains, so we had to re-calculate the route in Springfield as you can see me doing here. What's really irritating for me is the windshield on the Heritage Softtail I'm riding is one of the XXL sized ones, and combined with a Softtail's lower seat and my already vertically challenged stature, I find myself looking THROUGH the windshield rather than over it. It's fine when it's dry, but when it's misty or raining, it's not that easy -- try driving in the rain without your windshield wipers sometime. I end up sitting up as straight and as high as I can and peering over the windshield when it's raining.

This is a very different part of the country, and for someone like myself, growing up in the west where the distances are vast, and the oldest stuff is generally from AFTER the Civil War, it's fascinating to be driving through small towns and villages that have signs that say "founded in 1719" or something like that. In Utah, the towns tended to be about 15-20 miles a part -- or a day's ride on horseback when Brigham Young founded the place. Elsewhere in the West they are even further apart. Here they are all a mile or two apart. Each one also has a traditional old cemetery -- just like in the old horror movies, with huge cool gravestones that are weathered and have very intricate carvings on them, and leaning this way and that. Usually you'll also find a traditional white church with a high steeple as well (though in PA we did actually find one stock 1997 Model 5757-L, Medium Size Mormon Ward House with Satellite dish, looking quite out of place).

These twisty back roads take a lot longer to traverse -- but that's the point. We averaged about 35-40 mph, but we saw, and felt the countryside, and we could read the dates on the buildings, and the gravestones and smell the bacon frying in the roadside diners. We could read the "Welcome to Westfield, MA -- Founded in 1743 -- the Whip City", sign. We didn't stop however to inquire as to exactly WHY Westfield is the Whip City. We also traveled the old "Boston Post Road", now US 20, east for quite a ways out of Springfield.

As part of this trip we are also compiling our entry into the Harley Owners Group "ABC of Touring" contest. In this contest HOG members take pictures of themselves, the current HOG magazine, their bike, and the "Welcome to..." sign of someplace. The goal is to have a City and a County that begins with each letter of the alphabet, and as many of the 50 states as one can get, plus a few other odds and ends such as Harley factories and National Parks. We've already got all but the letter "x" in towns in Washington, so now we are collecting county and state signs. With all these little tiny states back here, we are stopping frequently for pictures. Here's Tony as we enter the smallest state.

We dipped into Rhode Island on the way out to the Cape today, and had lunch just outside of Providence. We then picked up US-6 for the ride out to the tip of the Cape and Provincetown. I'm not sure what we expected along this route -- I had envisioned sand-dunes, grass, and ocean. What we got however was much like the ride to Key West along US-1 -- without the bridges, and only the ugly slow parts through places like Key Largo. However unlike the Key's folks here INSIST on driving at least 10 miles UNDER the speed limit. In some places the road twisted and turned and ducked under the rail line that doesn't appear used though the tracks are still here. Provincetown itself is very reminiscent of Key West as I said, and we had a chance to wander the main street, which as I write this at 11pm on a Monday, is still teaming with people. We had a nice bite to eat in an ocean front cafe and did some people watching before heading back to the hotel. We are meeting up with some friends tomorrow and will explore a bit more, do the laundry as we are both out of clean socks and undies, and rest up for a day of little or no riding (I sorely, and I mean SORELY, miss my custom padded seat on my Dyna back home -- I'm getting saddle worn on this stock seat.) Tony, being a Floridian by birth wants to spend some time laying on the beach as well (I try to avoid places where I'll be mistaken for a beached whale). We'll spend Tuesday night here as well, then head out on Wednesday morning and go back around the cape and up through Boston and into Maine.

Good night from the End of the Road in Provincetown, MA --
Gary and Tony

Sunday, July 08, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant -- Day 5, PA to MA


Well, we are officially in New England -- I suppose you can tell by the covered bridge eh? Tonite we are in Great Barrington, MA, some 330 miles and across five states from Mansfield, PA where we left this morning just a little after 7am. We are just down the road from the old Trinity Church, known now as the Guthrie Center, but better known as the church were Alice lived with her husband Ray and Fasha the dog, and where the movie Alice's Restaurant and the song by Arlo Guthrie were set.

It was sunny and the temperatures were expected to hit record highs all across the North East today so we wanted an early start both for the cooler temps and the longer distance we had to travel today. After the free breakfast of Quality Inn "O's" and toast, we headed out in shirt sleeves, but only made it as far as the single stop light in Mansfield before deciding that maybe the jackets would be a tad more comfortable that early in the morning. Being that it was Sunday, the traffic was extremely light on US 6, and we rolled through the "Endless Mountains" region of North East, PA, through the rolling hills and quiet farms along the road. This is my favorite time to ride, the roads are quiet, the air is crisp and smells wonderful, and the sun feels good on my face. For some reason Tony always has me ride lead -- I think he assumes I know where I'm going, and usually I do, though I've been known to miss a turn or two from time to time. Being the lead, I see Tony in my rear view mirror all the time - and I'm always checking to make sure he's there and OK. It's very comforting, and reassuring at the same time, and so much a habit that when I am riding solo back home I still keep looking back to see where he is, and having to remember that he's not there.

Our goal was to make it to the Stockbridge, MA area tonite for Arlo Guthrie's concert, which was at 8pm, so we had plenty of time. We decided that since we were more or less in the area, we'd swing by Orange County Choppers in Montgomery, NY -- you know, the dysfunctional family that builds cool motorcycles on the Discovery Channel? The day got progressively warmer as we worked our way east through PA and down the Susquehanna River towards Port Jervis, NY. We ended up taking off our jackets about 11am and riding in T-shirts the rest of the day. We dipped into New Jersey briefly before picking up US 209 into New York and riding that up into Montgomery. Truth be told, the scenery was not great, the traffic heavy, and the weather very hot through NY -- in the low 90s. Had we realized that the OCC store was not all that great, we'd have chosen a different route up through the Adirondacks and stayed cooler and with less traffic. But we'd committed to the route and so we stopped there for a look-see and a break from riding. The bikes that were on display were cool, but the rest was a testament to their business and marketing skills, with OCC branded everything, including safety glasses and deodorant (you too can smell like Paul Sr.).

We didn't stay long, as we needed to get lunch and get back on the road. We swung into McDonalds where I noticed that my drivers license was missing. We racked our brains and figured out that I'd left it in my Sporran (or as Tony calls it a "Man Purse"), which was packed for shipping along with the rest of the kilt gear and sitting at Aunt Mary's house way back in Corning. So not only was I an "unlicensed driver", I'd have a devil of a time getting back on the plane home! Tony called her and the box had not been mailed yet thank goodness, so she was able to open it up, find my license and is overnighting it to our hotel in Provincetown, MA where we'll be Monday-Wednesday. I've avoided being pulled over so far on this trip -- lets hope it stays that way until Tuesday.

We got onto I-84 since we had to cover some ground AND had to get around New York City traffic. Well, we managed to get AROUND NYC, but not around the traffic. We ran into a big traffic jam outside Danbury, CT, which on the bikes, in 90 degree heat is just a ton of fun. The traffic cleared out eventually and we had a nice ride through the cool trees along the Housatonic River Valley and into the Berkshire's through Connecticut and into Massachusetts. We found our hotel in Great Barrington, right outside of Stockbridge and the shower and air conditioning was most welcome.

After resting for a bit, showering, and changing into shorts we headed off down THE real road to Alice's Restaurant and the church nearby the restaurant. The church is now home to the Guthrie Center, an educational foundation run by Arlo and his family that offers a lot of support and educational programs, and is home to way too many old hippies and others lost in the 60s. We hadn't had dinner yet and were just planning on picking up our tickets then going to town for something when we learned that they were offering food in the church and we could eat before the show. Without thinking, we figured this was a good idea. We forgot that this was an old "multi-faith" church (or as Arlo says, a "Bring your own God church"), run by a bunch of volunteer hippies wearing gauze skirts who, if they drive at all, are either in an old VW microbus or a Prius.
The menu featured "Vegetarian Chili" and "Organic Chicken Salad", and a "Vegetarian BLT sandwich" (the "B" was a soy bacon), and herbal tea. We decided to stay since it was open seating and we had very good seats. And nonetheless, the Veg chili was quite good, as was the BLT, as long as I didn't think about what the "B" was. We even had "peace" cookies for desert -- large cookies made in the shape of a peace sign (vegetarian of course, which I think means no eggs), and coffee (free trade coffee of course.)

Arlo put on a wonderful two hour solo show, going through some great new songs, and some of his old standards. The fun of an Arlo show is not only his music, but his fantastic storytelling, and he was his usual fun self. The show was in the old sanctuary of the church ("downstairs where the pews used to be" if you know the song). It had rained a bit during the show, and so we took a slightly longer route back to the hotel to enjoy the freshly scented by rain night air, with the concert still running in our heads.

Tomorrow we'll head out early again and scoot across the length of Massachusetts and head for Provincetown which is at the very tip of the hook of Cape Cod.

From the Travel Lodge in Great Barrington, MA, just a half a mile from the railroad tracks...

Gary and Tony

Saturday, July 07, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant - Day 4, The Baptist and Scottish Wedding

We just got back to the Quality Inn after a wonderful and to say the least, eclectic afternoon reception for Tony's cousin and her new husband. The weather absolutely perfect all day -- no humidity, sunshine, and 80. The ride back at sunset along sleepy Pennsylvania farm country roads, in sleeveless shirts, and crisp air in what is known as the "Endless Mountains" region of PA, was one we didn't want to end.

We even started the day with some riding around the local area before the wedding, and stopped into the local Harley dealer for the mandatory t-shirt for the collection, as well as an appropriate HD Wedding card. And yes, we did ride to the wedding in the kilts. The church was only 2 miles from the hotel, but it was still an exercise in caution (riding sans helmet), with bare legs and billowing fabric. Tony's aunts were waiting at the church door, cameras in hand when we rode up to a round of applause. Being a Saturday morning, there were lots and lots of bikes out, and we passed or waited for more than a few as we rode the two miles to the church -- no doubt there will be people talking about this tonite -- those odd chaps in formal kilts riding Harley's through the town of Mansfield, PA.

The wedding was in the First Baptist Church -- and the retired pastor was the groom's father. The groom was on the church committee to pick the new pastor, and the bride (Tony's cousin Sarah) was even baptized a few days before the wedding having been raised non-denominational. We felt like Daniel walking into the lions den. As you know, it was a Scottish themed wedding - the groom (Ben) in his family kilt, the groomsmen in their clan kilts, and the bride wearing a sash of her new family tartan, with a crown of ivy. Bill wore a traditional "great" kilt, which is a one piece affair that wraps up over the shoulder that his wife Mary made herself with an "ancient" McLachlan tartan. Now this was a true "church" wedding, with prayers and hymns, along with a bagpiper and an Irish tin-whistle. But we were glad to see this wasn't a fire and brimstone Baptist wedding, and after the ceremony everyone went to the hall for cake and punch (no alcohol, and the lady serving seemed rather put off that I'd even ask if there was any in it -- though I was asking because I don't drink and Tony is allergic.) After the wedding we got back on the bikes and went to the hotel to change for, as Bill called it, the "real" reception.And how does one get on a Harley in a kilt you ask? Very very carefully, especially if the seat has been sitting out in the sun for some time. First you straddle the bike, then standing up, reach between your legs and grab the back of the kilt and bring it forward between your legs, and then sit down, tucking the kilt underneath your thighs. This way it doesn't fill with wind when riding and billow up. In theory only, because one has to put one's legs down at stop signs, which releases the fabric into the wind when one takes off. This is not for the faint hearted, and although Paul Sr. on American Choppers did it..and now so did Tony and I, it's not something I'd recommend for any great distance.

We repacked the kilts and dropped them off with Aunt Mary to ship back home for us and rode out to the second reception, up in the hills at "Bucky's House". The directions were not exactly accurate, and we rode past the turn we were supposed to take -- and we were not alone, for we rode 4 additional miles with three other cars, including the groom's retired pastor father and his wife in a proper Baptist minivan, and we all made u-turns and headed back. We finally found the correct turn and drove a mile up a gravel road (not an easy task in a 900 pound motorcycle), to what can only be described as a miniature modern day version of a NE Pennsylvania "Woodstock" campground on Bucky's Mountain. Bucky himself, a friend to everyone, wood carver, musician, and motorcycle rider, along with his wife, greeted us and welcomed us to his home-made compound of workshop, huge out-door kitchen, campground, tent, reception area, cabin, hammock area and whatnot, and proceeded to make us, and everyone else feel right at home. There was live bluegrass and celtic music, TONS of food, people camping in tents, a fire pit, and Bucky's dog Harley (what else!). The complex is up in the mountains, deep in a forest of maples and oaks, and the buildings made of old barn wood and found things. Bucky makes his living carving things and selling them at art fairs, and we bought a wonderful carved pine tree for our mantle back home in Seattle. Bucky and his wife were ready to jump on their bike and join us riding to Massachusetts tomorrow, especially after they learned we'd be seeing Arlo Guthrie in concert, and we'd have loved the company. This one-of-a-kind character would be someone to take on a bike trip to make it even more memorable. He's been friends with the groom and Bill for some time, and he hosts 600 people at his complex every Memorial day for "Acorn Fest". If he and his wife were not at Woodstock in the 60s they should have been.

Tony spent most of the evening chatting with his new found family. Bill's two other sisters came, and Tony spent many hours chatting with his aunts Nancy and Susan, along with his Grandfather's brother. Like Tony's side of the family being unaware of Tony's grandfather's other family, they really were never told about Tony's side, and although they lived for a few years and grew up 20 miles apart, no one ever knew, and no one ever spoke about it. Even Dick, Tony's grandfather's brother didn't know why William and Helen divorced. Tony's aunts looked like Gilkinsons as well, and Aunt Nancy even had a daughter that named Debbie who at the same age, looks remarkably like Tony's sister Debbie. Everyone was very glad to meet and get to know Tony and I'm sure that this branch of Gilkinsons, despite the family history, will remain close. I know Tony took great pleasure in meeting them, as I'm sure they did, and the fact that he has brought the two sides of this family together is something wonderful to see. Everyone was happy, and at the same time, sad over all the years they went not knowing that each other existed. Indeed the only shame in all of this is the loss of years of another brother or sister or aunt or uncle in one's life.
It took a long time to say good bye to all these new family and friends, but Tony and I needed to head back to the motel to pack and wanted to get off the hills and down the dirt roads while it was still light. The final group hug was with Bucky and his wife and Tony's cousin Sarah and her new husband Ben. We'll very much miss our new family in this part of the country and someday hope to return for another visit -- and likewise, hope they'll come visit us out west.

So while I've been writing this, Tony has been packing and is just about done. Tomorrow we'll load up the bikes and head East on US 6 for a ways before turning north into New York and over into Connecticut and Massachusetts. The bikes are already gassed up, and although we've thoroughly enjoyed this part of PA, we are itching to get on the road again.

One last night in Mansfield PA at the Quality Inn..
Tony and Gary

Friday, July 06, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant -- Day 3, Discovering Tony's Roots

We woke up to soft sunlight and a beautiful dry morning in Mansfield, PA -- which if you look at a map, is just below the New York border and about half way across the state. It's very quaint small college town -- and our hotel is on a bluff overlooking the town as you can see. It's in the rolling hill country of PA, on what is known locally as the "Norther Tier." The primary reason for this trip is to attend the wedding of Tony's half cousin whom we've never met. Indeed we spent the day meeting relatives of Tony's that he's never met, exploring the area, and, as is customary for family reunions, learning lots of family secrets -- err, stories.

Now, you may need a score card for this in order to keep track, so go get a pencil. Lord knows it helped me. Tony's paternal grandfather and grandmother were both raised in the Corning, NY area (just over the border from Mansfield, PA). William Park Gilkinson II and Helen Barber were married and lived in Bath, NY. They had two kids, Jack and Judy. Jack is Tony's father. When Helen was pregnant with Judy, they divorced and William married another woman. They had four children, including one named William Park Gilkinson III or Bill. Helen never spoke about her husband, or his second family -- and though they lived 20 miles or so apart, they never met. When Jack was 16 and Judy 14, Helen moved the family to Tampa, FL where they remained, and where both live today. William III (Bill) married Mary and remained in the Corning area. OK, do we have everybody straight?

Tony, in 1990, began searching for his family history and "discovered" Bill and his wife Mary and they corresponded for a number of years, though they never met. About three years ago, Tony told his Aunt Judy about Bill up in Corning, and they started corresponding, and Judy flew up to meet about two years ago. Bill's oldest daughter is getting married, and it's that wedding that we'll be attending tomorrow (in kilts) that brought us to this part of the country and on this trip. Today was the first time Tony and Bill have met.

We hit the road about 10am and headed up to Beaver Dams, NY which is outside of Corning, and about 30 miles north of Mansfield. It was a gorgeous morning for a ride, the air nice and cool, the sun out, and no traffic on US-15. We went through a number of charming small towns -- including Lawrenceville, right on the NY border, where the entire town was having a town-wide garage sale. The main (and really the only) street through town was lined with every single house having a community garage sale for about a mile. I suppose it beats having a dump -- since the neighbors from other towns come to buy your junk, or your current neighbors and you just swap junk...but I digress.

We motored on up to Corning and into Beaver Dams and roared into Bill and Mary's driveway where Judy was waiting to greet us. At last Tony and Bill met, and while I was busy taking my helmet off I heard Bill speak, and if I had not seen him, would have sworn it would have been Tony's father Jack. They don't look alike, except for the Gilkinson freckles, and hairline -- but to me, he sounded exactly like Jack. We trooped back to the back porch for ice tea and numerous posed pictures like this: From left to right, you have moi, Tony's aunt Judy, Tony, Tony's uncle Bill, Tony's Great Uncle (Tony's grandfather's brother) Dick, and Tony's aunt Mary (Bills wife). Tony is the tallest in the family, and Dick remarked when he met Tony for the first time -- "well, you're a big one aren't 'ya?"

We spent the afternoon swapping stories and family lineage and history and secrets -- which we will spare all of you at this time. For lunch, we rode and drove down to a little local biker hangout that Bill likes for burgers and a fish fry, then it was off down the road to Bath, NY to explore the town where Jack and Judy grew up. Bath is about 20 miles NW of Corning, and we took the back roads there and enjoyed the "Southern Tier" of NY - what the locals call the area. In Bath we stopped by the courthouse which was built in 1870, and where Tony's grandmother worked as a secretary for the County Clerk. Then it was up the road to the two houses that remain of the three they lived in before moving to Tampa. Tony's Dad had asked him to call from the house at 35 Robie St., which is where he remembers most of his early days. Tony took a moment to phone his Dad while standing in front of his father's old home, and he and his Dad spent some time talking about the house and the large tree next to it, while Bill and Judy and I listened in. I always enjoy these kinds of things -- the old "physical" item that brings the past to life -- and I know how Tony felt finally seeing the places his Dad spoke of growing up, and hearing his aunt Judy talk about their childhood in upstate NY.

We said our goodbyes at the gas station in Bath, and while Tony and I filled up, Judy and Bill headed back to Bill's house and Tony and I headed south back down to Mansfield where the wedding will be on Saturday. The ride back to Mansfield was almost perfect -- the temperature just right, the air clean and smelling of hay and fresh mown grass and trees, and an absolutely idyllic countryside of farms, red barns, and quiet country roads. Indeed we went past Mansfield and rode a loop around the PA countryside, it was so nice out. What more could a motorcycle rider ask for?

We had dinner in the local college town pizza joint -- and truth be told, it was one of the BEST pizzas we'd ever had. We followed that up with sundae's at the ice cream parlor next door to it, and then rode the few blocks back to the hotel. Tomorrow, we have the wedding, and we will be riding the short mile and a half in our kilts. Judy has promised to be there with camera in hand to record it for posterity. (Or record our posteriors for posterity I suppose, as you know what one wears under a kilt...)

From the Quality Inn in Mansfield, PA...

Gary and Tony

Thursday, July 05, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant - Day 2, Philly to Mansfield PA

It was so rainy last night in Philly that they CANCELED the 4th of July fireworks. It was also warm and muggy, as is usual for the east coast. Unfortunately the air conditioning in our hotel didn't work either -- and about 1am we called and had them move us to a room that did have AC. So suffice to say we were a tad concerned about the weather for today.

However, it dawned dry, and only a tad humid, and we walked down the block to a small diner for breakfast, then caught a cab to Barb's Harley Davidson, in Collingswood NJ, just across the Delaware River from Philly. We got there just as they opened up and spent an hour doing rental paperwork for the two bikes. Tony's riding a black 07 "Road King Classic" with white wall tires! I'm on a Cobalt Blue 07 Heritage Softtail Classic.
Right behind us in line were two chaps from the UK who were here on business renting for a day ride, and we had a chance to chat and swap stories of riding in Scotland. We also kept a wary eye to the North West, watching a large black cloud drift closer. After all the time spent on paperwork, compounded because Tony forgot his proof of insurance card, we loaded up our suitcases on the bikes, did our customary "high-five", and drove across the street to pick up some supplies and hit the road. About that time the large black cloud decided to pour down rain on us, so we promptly went back across the street to the dealer, where Tony says I was more grumpy than usual. We waited out the storm for about an hour, with Tony checking the weather radar on his Blackjack computer. When he said it looked like the coast was clear, we loaded back up and headed out.

Getting out of the Philly area entailed riding on the freeway as far as Trenton, which wasn't really all that bad, except that it started to rain again. But it was just a brief shower, and at Trenton we exited, as per the instructions from Meg Crouse from the Camden NJ HOG chapter, and picked up NJ 29 which runs along the Delaware River. It was a wonderful ride up the river, twisting and turning, very little traffic, and charming small VERY OLD towns. It was surprisingly rural as well -- we didn't know what to expect, and we always tended to think of New Jersey as a big ugly suburb of New York. It was not the case. We both found this stretch of NJ a very pleasant place. We even went through the park where George Washington crossed the Delaware during the Revolutionary War. We wanted to stop and take a picture of one of us and call it "Washingtonian Crossing The Delaware", but we were running late because of the storm and wanted to keep going.

As is par for HOG Chapters, who's unofficial motto is "Live to Ride, Ride to Eat", playing off Harley's tag line of "Live to Ride, Ride to Live", Meg suggested stopping at one of their favorite places, Hot Dog Johnny. So we stopped for lunch there and a break, and took time to take off all the leather which was getting a tad warm. We also stopped to put on sun-screen which we really didn't need when we took off under the overcast damp skies earlier in the day.

We picked up Interstate 80 for a quick hop into Pennsylvania. It's a nice tie to home to realize that this is the same I-80 that winds its way back to where I come from in the West, and I've always loved the fact that I can be on a road that goes through my home-town and no matter where I am, if I stay on that road, I'll make it home. I-80 is one of those, as is US-89 and a few others. Indeed we'll spend a fair amount of time on this trip on US-6, another road that leads "home" as well.

Right after we crossed into PA, we exited off and picked up US 209, which runs through the Delaware River Water Gap recreation area. The sun had come out by now, and it was warm and the road quiet, and no towns at all. We swing off of US 209 and took a short-cut up and over the crest of the Pocono Mountains and dropped onto I-84 into Scranton PA. There we picked up US-6 for the run to Mansfield.

However, by now the afternoon thunderstorms had built up and as we were coming up Clarks Summit, we saw a solid black cloud in front of us. We pulled off into a gas station to debate whether or not to put on the rain gear, while Tony checked the radar on his Blackjack. What he saw made us cringe -- a solid wall of yellow and orange radar between us and Mansfield, right along US-6. Just then the thunder clapped and it started to pour. We scrambled into our rain gear and cursed the skies. Riding in the rain is not exactly fun -- even in a rain suit. It's hard to see, your goggles get all covered with drops, you get wet no matter what you are wearing, cars splash you, and it's cold.

All that being said, we found US-6 for all those miles between Scranton and Mansfield one of the darn right prettiest rides we've ever been on. It is listed as THE ride for PA in the Harley Road Atlas, and apparently for good reasons. Had the sun been out it would have been spectacular, and even in the rain, which ran the gamut between showers to mist and even a couple of dry spells (those were just teasers though, lasting only a mile or two), this road ranks high on our list of great rides. It dips and weaves through the rolling hill country of North Central PA, past tons of small farms and quaint old towns founded in 17 something-or-other. We saw many rainbows on the way, but no pots of gold, and the traffic was very light.

We made it to Mansfield by 7p, and checked into the Quality Inn, which is full of high-school boys for some sort of baseball tournament in town. We changed out of our wet gear and dried off. The rain of course went away as soon as we got here, and we rode back into town for dinner. Mansfield is a small university town, and is set along the Tioga River, and from the first glance before the sun went down, quite a nice little town.

Tomorrow we are going to meet Tony's half-uncle and aunt for the first time (it's their daughter who's getting married, and why we are in this part of the country to begin with.) We'll also run up to Corning NY to check out Tony's father's home town. We put just close to 300 miles on the bikes today -- nothing close to the distances we put under our belt last summer on the big ride, but our buts are feeling it none the less. We'll be here for three nights, with the wedding on Saturday (which we'll be going to in our Kilts -- this should be really interesting on the bikes!)

From the Quality Inn in Mansfield PA, somewhat damp still...
Gary and Tony

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant -- Day 1, getting to Philly


530am came early today. Our flight from Seattle to Newark left at 830am, but in this day of TSA scrutiny of little old white ladies driving Lexus' to the airport, and the weighing and examination of toothpaste and shampoo lest some gay passenger decide to "do" hair on the flight, we had to be at the airport at 630am. Madelon was kind enough to drive us to the airport on a glorious Seattle morning at that ungodly hour, so we hoofed it up to their house with our small pile of motorcycle luggage. Here we are, half asleep still.

After getting through security, we still had 90 minutes to kill, so we had coffee and a donut and read the paper. It was a nice 4 hour flight to Newark, in 1st class on Alaska Air. Why Newark you ask? Aren't we renting the bikes in Philly? Well, yes -- BUT, it's much cheaper to fly into Newark where one can catch an Amtrak train right at the airport for the 45 minute trip to Philly. Besides, we wanted to at least partially live the "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles" movie -- or in this case Planes, Trains, and Motorcycles.

A couple of Tony's friends who sing with him in the BEARatones were on the same flight - off on a Broadway Show Queen tour of six shows in four days. They took a limo into Manhattan while Tony and I walked to the train station. Because our flight was almost an hour early, we were able to catch an earlier train to Philly and were in our hotel by 6pm. It's a charming older boutique hotel in downtown Philly, and we walked to a nice Irish Pub for a very good Shepherds Pie dinner. Because it's the 4th of July there isn't much to choose from and the city is pretty well shut down. We've never been to Philly, and I'd like to visit a bit longer. Tony wants to go to Independence Hall where I'm afraid he'd break out into songs from the musical 1776 (he's already been singing "sit down John, sit down John, for Gods sake John sit down!" for most of the evening.) Perhaps we'll have a chance to visit when we turn the bikes in on the 15th.

Tomorrow we'll be off to Barbs Harley Davidson, which is actually across the Delaware River in Camden NJ to pick up the bikes. The forecast calls for a 50% chance of thundershowers (thanks a lot Mom!), and we were caught in one walking home from dinner. We are keeping our fingers crossed.

Tonight I'm going to study the route that Meg Crouse of the Camden County HOG Chapter was kind enough to map out for us -- going up along the Delaware River before crossing over into Pennsylvania and heading to Mansfield where Tony's cousin is getting married on Saturday. We brought along a pad of yellow sticky notes which I intend to do a "Rt 40 to Rt 6 to Rt 9" kind of simple directions that I can stick to the windshield. Having never been here, we turned to the local Harley Owners Group (HOG) chapter for advice and both here and in Massachusetts the local chapters have been quite helpful. It's one of the benefits of being part of the Harley fraternity I guess -- a host of people to tell you about the best way to get from A to B on two wheels.

From the City of Brotherly Love and the Latham Hotel..
Gary and Tony

Sunday, July 01, 2007

The Road To Alice's Restaurant

It was a year ago in July -- one July 4th week one year ago when Tony and I went on the Easy Rider 2006 trip. We traveled nearly 4,000 miles through five states last summer with the Seattle Men's Chorus western states tour, and we've been itching for another big motorcycle road trip. We've been planning this one for about 5 months now -- ever since we got invited to the wedding of a cousin that Tony has never met (more on that to come) near where Tony's father Jack grew up outside Corning, New York. Since neither of us has ever been through that part of the country at all, we figured, what the hell, lets rent Harley's and tour the Northeast for a few weeks! So that's what we'll be doing.

But first, I should probably explain the title of this year's adventure. "The Road To Alice's Restaurant" is not about Alice, or a Restaurant, it's not even the name of a restaurant. It's just the name of Arlo Guthrie's song, and that's why we call this year's post, "The Road to Alice's Restaurant." HUH??? I hear you thinking to yourself -- or maybe outloud. You see, Tony and I are both big fans of folk singer Arlo Guthrie, and anyone who knows him knows his 18 minute song "Alice's Restaurant" from 1967, which takes place in and around Stockbridge, Massachusetts. And as it turns out, Stockbridge is on a nice motorcycle road in far western Massachusetts. So we figured, especially since he'll be in concert and releasing his latest CD, that we'd swing by and say hello. The concert will be in the church featured in the song where Alice (remember Alice?) used to live with her husband Ray and Fasha the dog.... but I digress. By the way, Arlo also has another hit song called the Motorcycle Song, in which he sings, "I don't want a pickle, I just want to ride on my motor-sicle"...(in order to get it to rhyme)...but I'm getting way far afield...

It was either call it "The Road to Alice's Restaurant" or "The Road to Rhode Island" from the TV cartoon Family Guy, and the episode where Brian and Stewie hop a freight train bound for home in Rhode Island, and launch into a broadway show tunes along the way. They sing lines like "We're off on the road to Rhode Island, having the time of our lives... We are quite a pair of partners, just like Thelma and Louise"... and at that point, folk music won out over Broadway show tunes, and the graphic of Brian and Stewie, when Tony said that since I resembled Stewie, I would get to be him on this trip. I think not.

So enough of the name -- here's the rough, and I stress, ROUGH itinerary. The purpose of this trip is to explore, to go down roads that look fun, in state's we've never been in, and explore things with no agenda and no set time and place to be for the most part. My motto is "there is no wrong turn as long as it leads to more pavement." In fact we only have TWO places outside of returning the bikes on July 15th that we HAVE to be. The wedding on July 7th, and meeting friends in Provincetown, MA on July 9th. That's it. We pick up the bikes at Barb's Harley-Davidson in Camden, NJ just outside of Philadelphia on the 5th, and have to return them on the 15th to the same location. The wedding is in Mansfield, PA, just below the NY state line about the middle of the state, and Provincetown is at the end of Cape Cod in MA -- another of the "End of the Road", this time US-6. Between Mansfield and Provincetown is Stockbridge, MA where the incidents that inspired Alice's Restaurant took place, and hence the inspiration for the title to this blog. (The lyrics to Alice can be found at http://www.arlo.net under the tab "lyrics", just in case the references today, and down the road, become confusing -- you might want to read it, there will be a test later...)

We will have the laptop, and will endeavor, like last year, to publish a post every day, (and as Arlo says, with full orchestration, five part harmony, and all kinds of other phenomena, along with lots of 8x10 color glossy pictures with circles and arrows explaining what each one is) and hope you'll enjoy going along for the ride. Thanks to our riding buddy Ray Flores for the picture of Tony and I at the top of the page.

In Seattle -- for a few more days..going over a pile of AAA maps and Harley Ride Atlases...
Gary and Tony