Back on the road again

We're back on the road after a week in Vermont visiting friends and family, attending a wedding celebration where the bride and groom were dressed as Sharon and Ozzy Osbourne and the guests in 1980's era clothing, hiking up Bromley Mountain, running the Bennington Battle Day 5k, and spending time with Mike's parents and our son Nate.

The weather forecast came true today:  rain, clouds, light rain, heavy rain, and intermittent fleeting moments of filtered sunlight.

The good news is that our new raingear worked great! Mike thoughtfully purchased rubber gloves for me to wear since my motorcycle gloves are quickly soaked through and make my hands cold when we have to ride in the rain. Today my hands were dry and happy wearing bright lime-green gloves that although are designed for washing dishes and other household chores, make fantastic waterproof gloves during rainy motorcycle rides.

Our route took us west through Arlington Vermont and into New York state, riding through Saratoga Springs and then winding our way on narrow county roads until we turned onto U.S. 20 west for much of the day.

This part of New York state is filled with rolling hills either covered with trees or dotted with farmland, rivers, streams, and small towns at the bottom of valleys. It was like riding a roller coaster:  we curved our way up the hills, then wound down 9-10% grades into the valley, rode a few flattish blocks through a small town, then started back up a steep hill.

The wind buffeted us when we were at the tops of the hills or riding along the ridge lines so we weren't surprised to see large windmills taking advantage of the blustery conditions.

Our route took us through the Finger Lakes region, a group of 11 long, narrow lakes formed by glaciers 2 million years ago before we turned southwest and stopped for the night in Springville, NY  in western New York. We rode just over 300 miles in about 9 hours today, rolling up over 5000 total miles on our cross-country trip. Tomorrow the weather promises to be cool and sunny, perfect conditions to continue west into Ohio.  Here is today's route

Moving from Vermont to Arizona on our BMW

We're off! After weeks of 'lasts':  last lunch with a friend, last run on familiar roads, last volunteer meeting, last day of work, last night in Vermont; we're ready to start logging in some 'firsts', beginning with the first day of our move to Prescott, AZ.

We sold our cars, hired a moving company to pack and ship all of our household goods, and we're making the trip into a motorcycle adventure. This is the perfect opportunity to ride the BMW across the country as we transition from Vermont to Arizona.

For a summer filled with hot temperatures, high humidity, and lots of rain today was perfect:  blue skies with a few fluffy clouds and temperatures hovering in the high '70's as we wound our way along county roads and state highways through Vermont, New York, and into Pennsylvania.

As we rode through Manchester early in the morning, I tried to print all of the familiar sights on my memory one last time:  the new library that Mike worked so hard on, Hand Motors where he worked and where we purchased all of our cars, the view of the Green Mountains on Wilcox Flats that never ceases to amaze me with it's beauty, the soccer field in Arlington where the boys played hundreds of games, and the BattenKill River where we tubed and swam.

 

As we headed west through New York we spotted horse and buggy signs, and then passed an Amish horse and buggy, reminding us that it's still possible to travel slowly and live simply. Most of the time we had the winding, curving roads to ourselves as we passed by fields of corn, hay, and wheat.

Our route took us for a few miles through heavy traffic from Chenango NY to Athens PA on busy routes 17 and 220. I was glad to leave the trucks behind as we traveled through the 265,000 acre Susquehannock State Forest on Route 6, the longest continuous  highway in the continental United States. The roller coaster hills and steep hillsides covered with forests reminded me of Vermont. We could stay on Route 6 all the way to our stop tomorrow night in my hometown, Valparaiso, IN but we want to take our time and explore other roads.

We're spending tonight in Oil City, PA in the foothills of the Allegheny Mountains after an 11 hour trip. Tomorrow we leave mountains behind as we head into Ohio and Indiana. We moved from northwest Indiana to Vermont 22 years ago, and it seems fitting to spend one night on this move West back in Indiana.

Three perfect excuses for a quick evening ride

Motorcycle enthusiasts can come up with any type of excuse to go for a ride. We had three perfect excuses tonight:

• It's a beautiful early Fall day in Vermont, with warm temperatures, sunshine, and the beginnings of the leaves changing color.
• We plan to ride tomorrow afternoon, but the weather report isn't looking good:  high winds and torrential downpours.
• I haven't gone to the grocery store, so dinner is either canned soup or we can eat out.

Even though it was 70 degrees and sunny at 4:45pm when we got on the BMW, we knew it would be dusk before we finished tonight's trip. That means packing the cold weather gear and wearing my Celtic Rider neckwarmer. Of course whenever I put on the neckwarmer, I remember the fun we had this summer in Ireland.

Riding to dinner at Jake's in Londonderry is a familiar trip, which gives me time to pay attention to the small details that I seem to miss when we're in a car. The crisp edge to the air that feels so different from hot and humid weather just two weeks ago. The brown curl to the ferns that line our dirt road. We haven't had our first frost yet, but it's coming, and the plants are already curling up for the winter. The colorful purple, yellow and red mums that our more energetic neighbors already planted. Halloween decorations at Dutton's. Dusty brownish-orange maple leaves that in another week will pop in bright colors and draw hordes of tourists to our mountains.

We sit down for dinner before 5:30, the first ones in the dining room. We don't usually eat dinner this early, but we prefer to get home before it's completely dark to miss the coyotes, deer, bear and moose that prowl the area. After dinner I pull on the cold weather layer I thankfully packed and stay warm behind Mike as we head west over the mountain toward home. The setting sun hung just above the mountains and blinded us for a few seconds each time we crested a hill. I read in today's paper how a woman earlier this week ran into the car in front of her. She didn't see the car until she slammed into it, blaming the sun for momentarily blinding her. We rode in and out of the shadows until finally the sun was completely below the mountains.

We were on the bike for 16 hours our first day on the trip to Missouri this summer, and we've spent 11 days in a row riding in the Alps. Our short ride this evening took less than two hours, including dinner, yet we accumulated memories, enjoyed the cool breeze, and pointed out the signs lining the road for the Peru Fair this weekend. Plus we pulled into the driveway just as our neighbors were turning on their lights. Home before dark.

First time at Americade

Americade, an annual motorcycle extravaganza in neaby Lake George, NY, is celebrating its 30th anniversary this year. Mike and I cleared our Friday afternoon schedule so we could ride over, weather forecast for severe storms be damned. The motorcycle weather gods were with us today as we only walked through a light sprinkle at the Expo even though menacing storm clouds were looming on the horizon.

The closer we came to Lake George, the more bikes we saw until bikes seemed to take over the road almost completely.

I love to go to expos at marathons, talking with the vendors and searching for the latest running gear. Today was Mike's day to wander among the vendors selling leather clothing and gear, helmets, gloves, sunglasses, custom artwork for your motorcycle, tires, jewelery, and anything else 'motorcycle' that you can imagine. He specifically wanted to find a waterproof bag to fit on top of our tailbag, giving us a bit more baggage space for our trip next month to Missouri for the BMW motorcycle rally. He settled on a bag from Twisted Throttle that we tied onto the tailbag with bungee cords. Perfect! The only downside is that I no longer can get on or off the bike by swinging my right leg up and over the tailbag - a tricky maneuver on the best of days and made more difficult after a couple of hours on the bike when my legs get a bit cramped. Now I have to hang onto Mike's shoulder and carefully slide my right leg through the space between Mike's back and the tailbag. As long as we're parked on a level surface, I can manage. When the bike is parked on a bit of a slope, Mike has to help haul me onto the bike. It may not be ladylike, but then I guess riding pillion on a motorcycle isn't really ladylike anyway!

We took the back roads home, deciding that Route 4 southeast in Ft. Ann looked like it might head back toward Vermont and home. We wound through hilly, rural Washington County for miles, surrounded by open pastures, farmers mowing hay, and fields full of corn just starting to sprout. The Adirondacks towered over the farmland to the west, and we periodically glimpsed the Vermont Green Mountains to our east. Names of the towns started to sound familiar:  West Hebron, Argyle, Belcher. As we swept around a tight curve we saw a sign for the Bedlam Corners store and thought about John Katz, a local author who lives in this area. We couldn't pinpoint our location on a map, or even tell you the way to get back home to Manchester. But we were familiar with the general area and knew that by continuing to head south and east we'd eventually stumble onto roads we knew. Sure enough, a few hilly, curvy miles from Bedlam Corners we saw a turn for Salem, a New York town not far from Manchester.

We stopped for an early dinner at Kevin and Mike's Place II , a combination local bar and fantastic family restaurant in the middle of North Bennington, VT. There was the usual Friday night line at the door for seating in the restaurant, so we sat at the bar. Wearing motorycle pants and carrying high-visibility yellow motorcycle jackets is a great way to start up conversation with people who start off as strangers and end up as someone we hope to meet again.

The weather gods stayed on our side on the way home. The roads and fields were filled with puddles from a recent hard rain, but the only wet that hit us came from the spray kicked up by a pick-up truck on the road in front of us. Mike solved that problem by passing the truck, and we rode home under clearing skies.

Today was my first experience with a motorcycle rally, and we're looking forward to the BMW rally in Missouri. First we need to plan our route to get there!

Moose sighting!

We were riding along rural Route 12A just out of Roxbury when I saw it:  a young moose standing in a marshy area by the side of the road. A woman in a Subaru was already stopped and outside her car, taking pictures. Mike rode past - until I pounded him on the shoulder and yelled "Moose!". We turned around and slowly approached, hoping we wouldn't scare him off. I guess moose aren't afraid of loud motorcycles because he calmly stopped and watched us before he high-stepped off into the woods.

The impetus for today's ride is part of Mike's search for his Ryan ancestors. He and his dad tracked down the death certificate of Mike's great-great-grandfather, also named Michael, in 1896 in Warren. Mike called the Warren town clerk for directions to the three town cemeteries, and we were off.

Spring has been teasing us since early March. First we had sun and temperatures in the 80's, followed by rain, drizzle, gray skies, and cold weather - too cold and damp for me to be on the BMW. Finally it's mid-May, the sun was shining and the temperatures were climbing into the 70's so we set off north toward Warren on Route 100. Lunch was at our favorite Rochester Cafe housed in a building dating from the mid-1800's. Mike loved the tuna salad on a grilled croissant and I tried the goat cheese/veggie wrap. We couldn't pass up a chocolate milkshake made from the 1940's soda fountain!

The large cemetery next to the church in Warren was easy to find, and we spent some time wandering among the gravestones, looking for Michael Ryan.

People have been buried in this cemetery since the early 1800's, but no Ryan was to be found. Mike's somewhat sketchy directions "Main Street turns into Brook Road, which turns into East Warren Road - look for Dump Road or Roxbury Mountain Road" led past fields backed by the Green Mountains with views of Sugarbush ski area.

After a couple of wrong turns we found the second small cemetery, and then stumbled on the third and smallest cemetery next to the East Warren General Store, which is now a community food co-op. We didn't find any gravestones for a Ryan, so decided to continue our ride on the back roads over Burnt Mountain to Roxbury. The road changed from smooth pavement to washboard-bumpy dirt, hard-packed and smooth dirt, and finally more pavement - all typical for mountain roads in Vermont.

Soon after we rode down into Roxbury and turned onto Route 12A was when we spotted the moose.

The ride home was quiet compared to the day's earlier excitement. We rode along winding and sparsely traveled 12A past the Fish Hatchery totally demolished by flooding with Tropical Storm Irene last September, through tiny Braintree to the junction with larger Route 12 in Randolph, and then onto 107 through Bethel. The roads through this entire area are a patchwork of new pavement put in place since Irene, areas of loose gravel where construction is ongoing, and miles of rocky, tree-strewn riverbeds newly carved out by the storm that drowned southern Vermont in over 14 inches of rain.

Our circular route joined up with Route 100 in Killington, south through Rutland and then further south on Route 7 back home to Manchester. I kept eyeing ice cream stands longingly, but Mike was in rhythm with the bike and the road, and we rolled home without stopping. 6 hours, 186 miles, lunch, 3 cemeteries hunting for an unknown relative, mountain views, meadows dotted with sunflowers, and a moose. Not bad for a Sunday afternoon's ride!

First Fall ride back home

After wandering around Europe for 3 weeks on a motorcycle and bicycle it felt a bit odd to be back at home on our own BMW, traveling familiar Vermont roads. No hairpin turns, tour busses to contend with on narrow twisty roads, cows in the middle of the road, or a group of friends to ride with. Today it was just Mike and I, spending a day together on our BMW.

Burlington, VT waterfront

The day started off foggy and misty, but the sun broke through by the time we reached Burlington. We headed straight to the waterfront, and spent a few minutes watching the boats and streams of people taking advantage of a sunny, warm Fall day.

After lunch with friends and a walk along the bike path we pointed the bike toward home. Heading south, we rode through the Champlain Valley with the Green Mountains to the East and the Adirondacks across Lake Champlain to the West.

Close to Burlington there was a line of traffic heading in both directions as far as we could see, but the further south we traveled, the less company we had on the road - which is exactly the way we like it. Early Fall is a beautiful time of year in Vermont, with fields still lush and green waiting to be harvested yet some of the early leaves are beginning to change color and people decorate their homes and businesses with pumpkins.

Dorset Union Store

There's something comforting about riding familiar roads. I've driven these roads countless times in a car, yet this was the first time on the BMW. On the bike, I notice the barnyard smells, catch glimpses of hawks soaring on updrafts, wave greetings to other motorcycles on the road, and fall into the rhythm of winding our way through the valley. At times like this, Mike does the 'motorcycle happy dance', similiar to a skier carving "S" turns through the powder.

I can't think of a better way to spend the day.