2002 Motorcycle Journal
Wandering West
December 2001
This is the first entry into my journal for 2002.
Dear Friends and Family,
No, I have not decided to leave on my annual motorcycle trip early. In fact I am not sure where I am going. It seems with each trip I learn more and do things a bit differently. I thought I would start my journal early. I find myself thinking about last year’s trip to the Maritime Providences. I still see the road and feel the curves and smell the ocean air. It was a trip that will be hard to beat. Each day brought new prospects of delight that were beyond my imagination. I believe the highlight of the trip was Newfoundland. I sometime look at the world map in my classroom and marvel that I actually rode my bike all the way to that island.
It is December. I didn’t ride the bike much since I came home. It is not fun. Cars surround me while I breathe their emissions makes me feel claustrophobic. I long for the freedom of open spaces. I say, “It is all about the ride,” but that is a lie. It is about the freedom to ride, to reflect, and to enjoy without having to constantly dodge cars. It is about that place in my head that can only be visited when I am riding. I don’t claim to understand. It is not addictive; I don’t long for it like I did tobacco. Yet those few times during the summer that I escape, I am welcomed by the road with the warmth from a long lost friend.
The itch to get on the road is not new. The last few years when it arrived, I visions of the upcoming adventure played in my head. Where to go, what to see, can I find something to rival the last trip? These are just some of the questions floating in my brain. Head West Young Man!! Well I guess an old man can do the same. Do I want to take more time or cover fewer miles? Will I find roads that make me smile? Better yet, will I find roads that make me laugh with delight? All of these thoughts at least make me smile. I thirst for adventure.
I better spend my time thinking of Christmas and tinsel rather than leaning into a winding road while hearing the roar of the motor coming out of the curve.
Merry Christmas friend and family
This is the first entry into my journal for 2002.
Dear Friends and Family,
No, I have not decided to leave on my annual motorcycle trip early. In fact I am not sure where I am going. It seems with each trip I learn more and do things a bit differently. I thought I would start my journal early. I find myself thinking about last year’s trip to the Maritime Providences. I still see the road and feel the curves and smell the ocean air. It was a trip that will be hard to beat. Each day brought new prospects of delight that were beyond my imagination. I believe the highlight of the trip was Newfoundland. I sometime look at the world map in my classroom and marvel that I actually rode my bike all the way to that island.
It is December. I didn’t ride the bike much since I came home. It is not fun. Cars surround me while I breathe their emissions makes me feel claustrophobic. I long for the freedom of open spaces. I say, “It is all about the ride,” but that is a lie. It is about the freedom to ride, to reflect, and to enjoy without having to constantly dodge cars. It is about that place in my head that can only be visited when I am riding. I don’t claim to understand. It is not addictive; I don’t long for it like I did tobacco. Yet those few times during the summer that I escape, I am welcomed by the road with the warmth from a long lost friend.
The itch to get on the road is not new. The last few years when it arrived, I visions of the upcoming adventure played in my head. Where to go, what to see, can I find something to rival the last trip? These are just some of the questions floating in my brain. Head West Young Man!! Well I guess an old man can do the same. Do I want to take more time or cover fewer miles? Will I find roads that make me smile? Better yet, will I find roads that make me laugh with delight? All of these thoughts at least make me smile. I thirst for adventure.
I better spend my time thinking of Christmas and tinsel rather than leaning into a winding road while hearing the roar of the motor coming out of the curve.
Merry Christmas friend and family
July 25, 2002
Day 1
Dear Friends and Family,
I am back on the road. Tonight I am in Jefferson, Iowa. Omaha is about an hour and a half away. I plan to visit Boys Town in the morning.
Today started overcast, but cleared up when I crossed into Iowa. I rode I-80 until I was about 30 miles east of Des Moines. I remember why I hate the highway. Trucks passed me as if I was standing still. They rocked the bike, and it was no fun trying to make distance and not enjoying it. I couldn’t stand it any longer and headed for the back roads.
I plan to take back roads across Nebraska.
My mood this morning was a bit like the weather. Last year I couldn’t wait to get on the road, but this year I was hesitant. The expressway didn’t help. Finally I mentally slapped myself upside the head and chided myself for not doing what I know would relax me and allow me to enjoy the ride. Once on the back roads, I found my rhythm; I can’t tell you the number of times in my life I have taken the “highway” pushing myself along on an imaginary timeline. I need to keep this lesson in mind.
I must admit I am a bit sore. At one gas station, I pulled my aching body off the bike. I thought to myself, “I am getting too old for this.” Apparently I said it out loud because an older gentleman on the other side of the pump declared, “Some days we all feel like that.” All I could do was smile.
I wonder what Boys Town will be like. It has been 22 years since I worked there. I am not sure what to expect. The two years at Boys Town were the most intensive learning experience of my life. The teacher I am today can be directly linked to the education I received there.
I will let you know the changes and my impressions in my next journal.
What I need now is a long hot shower to ease some of the aching muscles. I still haven’t totally recovered from the wild sailboat race to Mackinaw Island. Just an aside: I race on a 40 foot sailboat. Each year we race to Mackinaw Island. It is 333 mile from Chicago. When the boat comes back from the race, I take this yearly motorcycle trip.
Mike
Day 1
Dear Friends and Family,
I am back on the road. Tonight I am in Jefferson, Iowa. Omaha is about an hour and a half away. I plan to visit Boys Town in the morning.
Today started overcast, but cleared up when I crossed into Iowa. I rode I-80 until I was about 30 miles east of Des Moines. I remember why I hate the highway. Trucks passed me as if I was standing still. They rocked the bike, and it was no fun trying to make distance and not enjoying it. I couldn’t stand it any longer and headed for the back roads.
I plan to take back roads across Nebraska.
My mood this morning was a bit like the weather. Last year I couldn’t wait to get on the road, but this year I was hesitant. The expressway didn’t help. Finally I mentally slapped myself upside the head and chided myself for not doing what I know would relax me and allow me to enjoy the ride. Once on the back roads, I found my rhythm; I can’t tell you the number of times in my life I have taken the “highway” pushing myself along on an imaginary timeline. I need to keep this lesson in mind.
I must admit I am a bit sore. At one gas station, I pulled my aching body off the bike. I thought to myself, “I am getting too old for this.” Apparently I said it out loud because an older gentleman on the other side of the pump declared, “Some days we all feel like that.” All I could do was smile.
I wonder what Boys Town will be like. It has been 22 years since I worked there. I am not sure what to expect. The two years at Boys Town were the most intensive learning experience of my life. The teacher I am today can be directly linked to the education I received there.
I will let you know the changes and my impressions in my next journal.
What I need now is a long hot shower to ease some of the aching muscles. I still haven’t totally recovered from the wild sailboat race to Mackinaw Island. Just an aside: I race on a 40 foot sailboat. Each year we race to Mackinaw Island. It is 333 mile from Chicago. When the boat comes back from the race, I take this yearly motorcycle trip.
Mike
July 26, 2002
Day 2
Dear Friends and Family,
I just wrote day 1 and the computer made me login again. I hope that you got it. I will write this one, and if you didn't get the first one, I will type it over.
Today is a wet day. Ten minutes on the road, and I was in rain gear. Most of the morning was light rain or spray from the trucks. The rain hasn't dampened my spirits.
Today I am heading for Boys Town. I called it home from June of 78 to 1980. My wife and I were Family Teachers. We lived with 9 adolescent boys. Some of the boys were wards of the state, while other’s next home would be juvenile jail. It was an exhausting, but a positive experience that influenced my entire teaching career.
I arrived at Boys Town about and hour ago. (11 am). I knew the area would be different, but I wasn't prepared for the change. It is surrounded by homes and strip malls. Dodge Road, the street in front of BT is now an expressway. I had to take the exit to Boys Town. I was confused and a little rattled by the whole experience. Then I was on the campus. The years peeled away, and it was 1980. The place looked exactly the same.
After removing my rain gear, I went to the Visitor Center. I discussed the changes I witnessed since my last time on campus with one of the boys who worked there. I told him about Doug who lived in our house and did the same job as this young man. I got a map, but I knew I wouldn't need it. Walking in a dream like state, I wandered down to Community 2. I took the short cut that tourist wouldn’t know. It looked exactly like it did when we left 22 years ago. The names of the family teachers on the houses had changed; even the street addresses were different, but I found what had been 231 Sudyka Circle; the house we ran and lived in for two years. It is now 213 Maher Dr. I stood staring at the house. The images of my sons playing with the boys in the yard seemed so tangible.
I plan to drive around before I leave. It is still raining, and I keep putting on the rain gear.
A little later:
It is time to go. I am in the Boys Town cafeteria, which I had forgotten existed. I rode around the campus. I went by the lake where my son Jim loved to fish. The research center, which is now the headquarters for Boys Town USA, looks the same as when I left in 1980. I drove by the training center and the field house. All of it is just as I remember it. The cafeteria is filling up, and the time travel is fading. Soon 2002 will become my reality again.
I was just about to leave Boys Town when it started to rain again. Back went on the rain gear. I looked up for some reason and noticed that the man getting into the car next to me looked familiar. It was Hector Garcia. He was my assistant principal last year. He is now working for Boys Town. It was his 3rd day of work.
I have ridden for a couple of hours in the rain. I hope to get in another 100 miles before I rest.
Talk to you later.
Mike
Day 2
Dear Friends and Family,
I just wrote day 1 and the computer made me login again. I hope that you got it. I will write this one, and if you didn't get the first one, I will type it over.
Today is a wet day. Ten minutes on the road, and I was in rain gear. Most of the morning was light rain or spray from the trucks. The rain hasn't dampened my spirits.
Today I am heading for Boys Town. I called it home from June of 78 to 1980. My wife and I were Family Teachers. We lived with 9 adolescent boys. Some of the boys were wards of the state, while other’s next home would be juvenile jail. It was an exhausting, but a positive experience that influenced my entire teaching career.
I arrived at Boys Town about and hour ago. (11 am). I knew the area would be different, but I wasn't prepared for the change. It is surrounded by homes and strip malls. Dodge Road, the street in front of BT is now an expressway. I had to take the exit to Boys Town. I was confused and a little rattled by the whole experience. Then I was on the campus. The years peeled away, and it was 1980. The place looked exactly the same.
After removing my rain gear, I went to the Visitor Center. I discussed the changes I witnessed since my last time on campus with one of the boys who worked there. I told him about Doug who lived in our house and did the same job as this young man. I got a map, but I knew I wouldn't need it. Walking in a dream like state, I wandered down to Community 2. I took the short cut that tourist wouldn’t know. It looked exactly like it did when we left 22 years ago. The names of the family teachers on the houses had changed; even the street addresses were different, but I found what had been 231 Sudyka Circle; the house we ran and lived in for two years. It is now 213 Maher Dr. I stood staring at the house. The images of my sons playing with the boys in the yard seemed so tangible.
I plan to drive around before I leave. It is still raining, and I keep putting on the rain gear.
A little later:
It is time to go. I am in the Boys Town cafeteria, which I had forgotten existed. I rode around the campus. I went by the lake where my son Jim loved to fish. The research center, which is now the headquarters for Boys Town USA, looks the same as when I left in 1980. I drove by the training center and the field house. All of it is just as I remember it. The cafeteria is filling up, and the time travel is fading. Soon 2002 will become my reality again.
I was just about to leave Boys Town when it started to rain again. Back went on the rain gear. I looked up for some reason and noticed that the man getting into the car next to me looked familiar. It was Hector Garcia. He was my assistant principal last year. He is now working for Boys Town. It was his 3rd day of work.
I have ridden for a couple of hours in the rain. I hope to get in another 100 miles before I rest.
Talk to you later.
Mike
July 27, 2002
Day 3
Dear Friends and Family,
Just a quick note. I am 30 minutes from Colorado. I have had good weather so far even though it looked like rain earlier. I had a problem with the bike. I drove it 50 mile to the nearest large town, and the problem suddenly stopped. I talked to the mechanic, and he couldn't tell me what to do. I get nervous when it heals itself. It has happened once before so maybe it is self-healing.
Hope all is well. I need to get back on the road if I plan to meet my cousin in Denver at 10 am.
Mike
Day 3 continued
Dear Friends and Family,
I am an hour and a half outside of Denver. Sitting on the bike for the past 3 1/2 hours, I tried to think about what I wanted to tell you. I have a lot of time on my hands just sitting and driving. Once again I am struck by the vastness of our country. In an hour I could count the number of cars I saw on one hand.
Highway 30 runs along the Platt River and I-80. It is beautiful. I never thought I would say that about Nebraska. The river is lined with trees, which is a strange sight in the plains. Railroad tracks crisscross Highway 30 again and again. Trains heading east passed by about every 15 minutes. I saw more trains than cars.
As I rode west, the landscape became dryer and dryer. In the center of Nebraska, cattle farms kept the cows confined to one area and provide food for them. Further west the cows roamed and ate the little grass they could find. You could see why a rancher would have to have a lot of land. Some of the areas were barren; while others were green and fertile - thanks to irrigation.
I kept trying to imagine what it was like 200 years ago. I could see the buffaloes grazing. I went through Lincoln County, Nebraska where there were violent range wars. At one point this was the old west.
As I rode I could feel the temperature change when I would pass a freshly irrigated field. In another field I watched dust devils swirling across the field.
Well it's 7 pm, and I need to get some dinner.
Later
Mike
When I checked my email, this is what was waiting for me from my good friend and college roommate Fred Keating.
Day 3
Mikey on his iron horse
Rode the prairies fast, of course
Eating miles like candy floss
On his trusty iron hoss
Over hill and over dale
Following each western trail
Til at night he must dismount
And begin a calorie count
Then at dawn, both fueled and rested
He sets off for trails untested
Where others sit in one sad place
Mike lives life daily face to face
Fred Keating
Day 3
Mikey on his iron horse
Rode the prairies fast, of course
Eating miles like candy floss
On his trusty iron hoss
Over hill and over dale
Following each western trail
Til at night he must dismount
And begin a calorie count
Then at dawn, both fueled and rested
He sets off for trails untested
Where others sit in one sad place
Mike lives life daily face to face
Fred Keating
July 28, 2002
Day 4
Dear Friends and Family,
I started my day with a bang. While loading my gear on the bike, a bungee slipped from my hand and shattered the mirror.
The drive into Denver was a bit more exciting than I had planned. Seeing cars coming behind me was a challenge, but it was early in the morning and there was little traffic. I am on my way to see my cousin Bill. It has been years since I have seen him. I wrote the directions to Bill’s house with dry marker on my windshield. I thought I was so cool. However because I forgot to write a change of expressway, I saw more of Denver than I had originally planned.
Bill and his wife Dawn are great hosts. Bill and I looked for a place to get a new mirror, but no one was open. So instead we went to a local pub. Later Bill and I mapped out the next weeks journey. I am so excited to get started. There is so much to see.
We went to my cousin Sue and Harold's home for dinner. Sue is Bill's sister. We had a great dinner and visit. They have a cabin in the woods, and I may stay there Monday night.
We caught up with family things since we haven't seen each other in 8 years. It is sad how time slips by. We shared childhood memories of the cottage our grandparents had at Pretty Lake in Michigan. It was fun and relaxing and the wine was great.
It was nice to have a break from riding. I have traveled 1200 mile and ready to go again.
Good Night
Mike
Another quip from Fred
Into the mountains, intrepid Mike
With his intrepid pack on his intrepid bike
Mirror or not, the reflection is clear
Wherever he is, we wish he was here
Fred Keating
July 29, 2002
Day 5
Dear Friends and Family,
It is 7 am, and I woke up at 6 ready to travel. I
visited with Dawn and Bill before they left for work.
My first stop this morning is the bike shop to replace
the mirror. Then I am headed for the mountains. I am
looking forward to today’s adventures. More later.
Mike
Day 5
Dear Friends and Family,
It is 7 am, and I woke up at 6 ready to travel. I
visited with Dawn and Bill before they left for work.
My first stop this morning is the bike shop to replace
the mirror. Then I am headed for the mountains. I am
looking forward to today’s adventures. More later.
Mike
Day 5 continued
Dear Friends and Family, I am sitting on top of the world or at least it feels like that way. I am in Estes Park, and at the moment, I am way above the tree line. There are little white fluffy clouds that are so close it feels like I could touch them. Being a flat lander from Chicago, I find it hard to believe that this place exists. The weather is cool up here, and I am holding down the paper to write to you because of the strong winds. No wonder there is little vegetation up here. I wish you could see this little lake on the other side of the valley. It is cradled into the mountain. There are no trees around it. On the same mountain there are patches of snow in all shapes and sizes. Such a peaceful place now, but it is not hard to imagine what Mother Nature could do if she wanted. I am going to walk to the other side of the rest stop to see where I had ridden up the mountain. I forgot to tell you how much fun it is riding the curves up and down the mountains.
Dear Friends and Family, I am sitting on top of the world or at least it feels like that way. I am in Estes Park, and at the moment, I am way above the tree line. There are little white fluffy clouds that are so close it feels like I could touch them. Being a flat lander from Chicago, I find it hard to believe that this place exists. The weather is cool up here, and I am holding down the paper to write to you because of the strong winds. No wonder there is little vegetation up here. I wish you could see this little lake on the other side of the valley. It is cradled into the mountain. There are no trees around it. On the same mountain there are patches of snow in all shapes and sizes. Such a peaceful place now, but it is not hard to imagine what Mother Nature could do if she wanted. I am going to walk to the other side of the rest stop to see where I had ridden up the mountain. I forgot to tell you how much fun it is riding the curves up and down the mountains.
Later
I am staying at my cousin Sue and Harold’s cottage. It is beautiful. They have been very generous to me. I am off to Utah in the morning.
Take care,
Mike
July 30, 2002
Day 6
Dear Friends and Family,
I am in Craig, Colorado. This morning I have ridden about 150 miles. I went through Steamboat about an hour ago. It has been very cold this morning. It was 50 when I got up. Today the mountains kept changing different colors. Some were dark with trees and others were burnt and brown. It was beautiful. I never get tired of watching the scenery. I haven’t had a chance to sit and write. I will later in the day. It is no longer cold. Off with the leather.
Later,
Mike
July 31, 2002
Day 6
Dear Friends and Family,
I would love to tell you all of the beautiful things I saw yesterday and today, but unfortunately I am still in Craig, Colorado writing you from the same computer as yesterday. Yesterday after emailing you I went to the bike shop because I have had problems starting the bike. Tank, the mechanic, checked the compression of the cylinders because he thought it might be a valve. It was. In fact it was running on only one cylinder. I only have two. I never would have made it home.
My bike is totally apart. I helped him remove the engine, a 3-hour project. We took the other cylinder apart and it too full of carbon. It is a lucky thing this was discover while I was here. The parts have been ordered and will be here tomorrow morning. I should be on the road late in the afternoon. It has been a real interesting experience.
Rusty and Terry who own the place have been wonderful. They even let me use one of the bikes to get to the library, because they said it was too hot to walk.
Day 6
Dear Friends and Family,
I would love to tell you all of the beautiful things I saw yesterday and today, but unfortunately I am still in Craig, Colorado writing you from the same computer as yesterday. Yesterday after emailing you I went to the bike shop because I have had problems starting the bike. Tank, the mechanic, checked the compression of the cylinders because he thought it might be a valve. It was. In fact it was running on only one cylinder. I only have two. I never would have made it home.
My bike is totally apart. I helped him remove the engine, a 3-hour project. We took the other cylinder apart and it too full of carbon. It is a lucky thing this was discover while I was here. The parts have been ordered and will be here tomorrow morning. I should be on the road late in the afternoon. It has been a real interesting experience.
Rusty and Terry who own the place have been wonderful. They even let me use one of the bikes to get to the library, because they said it was too hot to walk.
Tank and Jayna, his wife, let me stay at their house. They have a small extra room, and I am sleeping on my bedroll. I am always amazed at the goodness in people. More than ever, these trips have introduced me to so many fine people who have been so gracious. I am going to wander around town this afternoon and visit with the people at the bike shop. I will help put the bike together tomorrow. I basically hand Tank wrenches. I keep telling myself that this could have been a horrible experience, so I am lucky it turned out the way it did. I wanted adventure, and this is part of it. Hope all of you are well. I will write to you again from Craig tomorrow and let you know the progress.
Mike
Mike
August 1, 2002
Day 7
Dear Friends and Family,
Well the good news is the parts are in and the bike should be ready tonight. Tank said he would stay until it is finished.I have been a bit of a basket case. I woke up early because of anxiety. When I got to the shop this morning, I emptied the garbage, swept the floor, and most likely drove everyone crazy.
When Terry brought back the parts, I thought it was garbage and offered to take it out. She said I could, but she thought I would rather keep it, since it was the parts to the bike. I couldn't stop grinning.
I will most likely stay with Tank another night. I plan to take the bike out for a 50-mile ride to make sure it is OK.
As much as I have enjoyed everyone, I want to get back on the road. I am sure I will sleep well tonight.
Talk to you later. I am not sure where I am headed yet. I may skip Utah. I hear it is still around 110.
I hate the heat.
Take Care.
Mike
Day 7
Dear Friends and Family,
Well the good news is the parts are in and the bike should be ready tonight. Tank said he would stay until it is finished.I have been a bit of a basket case. I woke up early because of anxiety. When I got to the shop this morning, I emptied the garbage, swept the floor, and most likely drove everyone crazy.
When Terry brought back the parts, I thought it was garbage and offered to take it out. She said I could, but she thought I would rather keep it, since it was the parts to the bike. I couldn't stop grinning.
I will most likely stay with Tank another night. I plan to take the bike out for a 50-mile ride to make sure it is OK.
As much as I have enjoyed everyone, I want to get back on the road. I am sure I will sleep well tonight.
Talk to you later. I am not sure where I am headed yet. I may skip Utah. I hear it is still around 110.
I hate the heat.
Take Care.
Mike
August 2, 2002
Day 8
Dear Friends and Family,
I am in Buena Vista, Colorado and on my way to Canyon City. It has been a great day. I have spent the day in the mountains. This is why I ride a bike.
I went over a pass after leaving Aspen. Wow, was it a blast. I didn't get a chance to really look at the scenery since the road had all of these great curves and frequently the edge of the road was a drop off. It was so much fun banking one curve and heading into another one.
I will write more later. It is overcast, and it looks like it could possibility rain. I still have 100 miles to go, and it is 3pm.
More later,
By the way the bike runs great and the gas mileage has greatly improved.
Mike
Day 8 cont
I am in Canon City, Colorado doing my laundry. I lead such an exciting life. Today’s ride was fantastic. I say that because I am riding again rather than walking. The rain clouds have followed me for 300 miles and waited until I got into town to rain.
I think I am addicted to the mountains. The entire ride today was in the Rockies. The terrain is always changing. At times I would see cattle grazing. The landscape was sparse and a greenish brown color.Before I got to Aspen, the mountains were a reddish color. At one point I saw the after math of a forest fire. The scent of the chard wood still lingered. When I climbed up into the pass, I could smell the pine trees. The temperature kept changing. The mountains were a beautiful shade of green. The last part of today’s ride was next to the Arkansas River as it snaked through the mountains. It was hard to enjoy the scenery because of all the curves; I really had to concentrate on the road.
I am not sure if I will get to Utah. Time and heat will be the determining factors. I plan to head west again after seeing the Royal Gorge. Tank told me it was beautiful. If it is half as beautiful as today’s ride, I will be pleased. In many ways it was hard this morning to say goodbye to Tank, Jana, and Terry; for two and a half days they have let me be part of their lives. I felt at home with them. It still amazes me that Tank and Jana took in a total stranger. Once again I am traveling at the same time that Sturgis is beginning. I have seen dozens of people packed up similarly to me making the pilgrimage to bikers’ holy land. I must admit I am curious. People of all ages and types go there. Bikers wave as we pass each other, or when we meet, ask if I am going to Sturgis. Maybe I will pass through on the way home. Like I said I have no idea where I am going in the morning. I have 11 minutes left on the washer, so I will bore you no more.
Tomorrow is another adventure, and I will share them as they happen rather than try to fill this paper.
Mike
August 3, 2002
Day 9
Dear Friends and Family,
I am in Montrose, Colorado. I stopped to get my oil changed. It was a lucky thing I did because I was on my way to Moab, Utah when a large rainstorm hit. Because I was delayed, I was able to find a motel and sit out the storm. I picked a motel that has a large overhang so I could protect the bike. I hate shining all of that chrome.
I was able to ride about 250 miles. It was another beautiful ride. This is a gorgeous state. The weather was cold. I was in long underwear and chaps when I went over the pass. At one point I came upon a huge lake. It ran for miles. There has been a severe drought in the state. In fact there are signs everywhere in the entire state saying no open fires. The lake is down by at least 20 feet. People were driving 4 wheelers to what used to be islands. There where still lots of boats on the lake. I took some pictures.
The library is about to close so I will have to write more later. I am sure I will not find a place to write tomorrow so I will write again on Monday. I plan to head to Arches National Park in the morning. Then I will head north to Yellow Stone. That is the plan. Who knows it may change tomorrow. I know the state needs rain; I just hope it won’t rain on me.
Hope all of you are well.
Mike
Day 9
Dear Friends and Family,
I am in Montrose, Colorado. I stopped to get my oil changed. It was a lucky thing I did because I was on my way to Moab, Utah when a large rainstorm hit. Because I was delayed, I was able to find a motel and sit out the storm. I picked a motel that has a large overhang so I could protect the bike. I hate shining all of that chrome.
I was able to ride about 250 miles. It was another beautiful ride. This is a gorgeous state. The weather was cold. I was in long underwear and chaps when I went over the pass. At one point I came upon a huge lake. It ran for miles. There has been a severe drought in the state. In fact there are signs everywhere in the entire state saying no open fires. The lake is down by at least 20 feet. People were driving 4 wheelers to what used to be islands. There where still lots of boats on the lake. I took some pictures.
The library is about to close so I will have to write more later. I am sure I will not find a place to write tomorrow so I will write again on Monday. I plan to head to Arches National Park in the morning. Then I will head north to Yellow Stone. That is the plan. Who knows it may change tomorrow. I know the state needs rain; I just hope it won’t rain on me.
Hope all of you are well.
Mike
August 4, 2002
Day 11
Well this has been quite a day. I have seen all types of terrain. I know you are tired of hearing about how beautiful it is here. You should come to Colorado and experience it for yourself. My words don't do it justice.
I have ridden 230 miles of curving roads so far today. This morning I could see the mountains that I would cross in the distance. They were different than the ones I have experienced so far, the peaks where sharp and bare. Crossing the mountains amazes me because the terrain changes every 15 to 20 minutes. I love it.
I am in Canyon Land, Utah. When I first arrived I was on a high plain. It looked like Nebraska, but 6000 feet up. Then suddenly it changed. I was in a canyon. Wow!!! That is all I can say. It is unbelievable. Sheer wall 100s of feet high were everywhere. It is lucky there are no flies because I drove for hours with my mouth open in amazement.
I drove 34 miles off the main road just to get to the National Park. I took some pictures and bought several postcards. I will email them when the trip is over. It is pouring outside, and I am in the visitors’ center. I am hoping the storm will end soon.
Another Keating Poem
Tell us again just what you saw ...
Was a real fast bike shooting through Utah
With sparks out the back and an old guy on top
Just a-spinnin' his wheels with nary a stop.
I was jist gonna offer that feller a drink
But he blew by so fast I could barely blink
And all I heard as he sped out of sight was
My name is Mike Sheridan and I'm feelin' all right!!!!
So somewhere near the top of time
With acres spread out below
You'll find his spirit resting
Making angels in the snow.
Fred Keating
Tell us again just what you saw ...
Was a real fast bike shooting through Utah
With sparks out the back and an old guy on top
Just a-spinnin' his wheels with nary a stop.
I was jist gonna offer that feller a drink
But he blew by so fast I could barely blink
And all I heard as he sped out of sight was
My name is Mike Sheridan and I'm feelin' all right!!!!
So somewhere near the top of time
With acres spread out below
You'll find his spirit resting
Making angels in the snow.
Fred Keating
Day 11 Continued
Dear Friends and Family,
I just typed my journal for today, and it had an error message, and it is all gone. I will write it again, and save it as I do it. This is really frustrating.
I am in Moab, Utah. It is still overcast. My ride from Canyon Land was a bit wet, but moisture doesn't last long around here.
Dear Friends and Family,
I just typed my journal for today, and it had an error message, and it is all gone. I will write it again, and save it as I do it. This is really frustrating.
I am in Moab, Utah. It is still overcast. My ride from Canyon Land was a bit wet, but moisture doesn't last long around here.
Millions of years ago this area was underwater. As the water receded, it carved sheer cliffs. It goes on for hundreds of miles. The walls are reddish, and I can see the layers carved into the rock as the water receded creating different rock formations. It is so unusual. I have never seen anything like it. The Colorado and Snake Rivers have also been responsible for making the unusual formations.
I am staying the night in a youth hostile. In my case they should call it an oldster hostile. It is cheap. I even have my own room. The place is filled with kids driving nice cars.
I am going to Arches National Park in the morning. It was cold this morning. I was in long underwear and leather again. I rode that way all day. When I arrived in Moab, it must have been 20 degrees warmer. I have never stripped so fast in my life.
Take care,
Mike
I am staying the night in a youth hostile. In my case they should call it an oldster hostile. It is cheap. I even have my own room. The place is filled with kids driving nice cars.
I am going to Arches National Park in the morning. It was cold this morning. I was in long underwear and leather again. I rode that way all day. When I arrived in Moab, it must have been 20 degrees warmer. I have never stripped so fast in my life.
Take care,
Mike
August 5, 2002
Day 12
Dear Friends and Family,
I got up early this morning. It is overcast, and I am sure it is going to rain. I put my garbage bag over my pack hoping to keep my gear dry. Here's hoping. It turned out to be a great day. The sky cleared, and it has been somewhat warm. The last 150 miles have been straight roads and no vegetation. It was really stark, and yet interesting to look at.
I am in Price, Utah. I need to go. The library is closing.
Later,
Mike
Day 12 Continued
I am sure you are tired of hearing about all of the beautiful scenery I have seen. Well here I go again. Coming over Flaming Gorge was absolutely stunning. It is ironic - the name - there were acres upon acres that were burned in a forest fire. Most of the trees were pine. It was strange to see a field littered with blacken skeletons reaching skyward.
Last night I stopped at a bar and asked the patrons where I could find a good place to camp or a cheap motel. The people were really friendly. After an hour I was one of the regulars. This place could rival Cheers for its drama. The main characters are: Becca, Dena, Old Bob, Sam Jackson, and Levi.
When asking about the motel, Sam was the first to tell me that all of the places cost about the same. He and Levi work together. I listened to the conversation and had a couple of beers. Old Bob who had been on the bar stool longer than the rest of the patrons, told me that over the weekend a bunch of bikers had spent the night behind the bar.
Then Miss Becky arrives. She is in her 20's, and her dad owns the bar. She is very attractive and is wearing a top that reveals a great deal of her ample breasts. She goes around and hugs everyone, much to the pleasure of all of the men. Becca's father had a stroke a few days ago, and she had just come from the hospital. I got the feeling that she has been estranged from her father because of his new wife who is 10 years younger.
Old Bob, who owns the liquor license on the bar, said the wife was a gold digger and has been trying to kill Becca’s dad for years. Becca is telling everyone about her dad's recovery and everyone one is consoling her. You can tell she is a warm and caring person, and this ordeal is killing her. She spent the evening in tears as each person coming into the bar heard the story and tried to comfort her.
Later I found out that her mother left with her husband's brother, Mother, who had founded the local motorcycle group. (Say that sentence fast 5 times!) As the alcohol flowed so did the stories.
I will tell more over the next few days.
August 6, 2002
Day 13
I covered 400 miles today. Some of the time was exciting and some was boring. The highlights were animals this time. A lot of the roads are open range. I looked over at one field, and it seemed to be moving. It was a huge herd of sheep. A few moments later, there were about 20 of them on the road. They parted and let me pass.
Later in the day I was in Yellow Stone. The traffic suddenly stopped and there was a buffalo on the edge of the road. Everyone was taking pictures from their cars. Soon the creature was only 8 feet from me. I was feeling anxious to continue moving. The people in the cars had no exposure to the beast. I was standing there with a machine that was grunting and groaning. I was hoping that it didn't sound like a buffalo in heat.
I drove into Gardiner which is outside the north entrance about 6:30 in the evening. I planned to find a campsite for the night. When I went into the park office, the man behind the desk said, "I am sorry, but we don't have any spots available. "
With a almost desperate sounding voice I exclaimed, "I have been riding all day. All I need is any small patch of land to put my tent."
"I am sorry, but we have no camp sites left.. You most likely will not find any other places in town this late in the evening."
Exhausted and desperate, I began to turn around to leave when I heard a voice say, "I wondered when you were going to arrive. We have been waiting for you. I will show you where we are camped."
There stood a smiling young man. He nodded and told me to follow him. Outside he informed me that there was room on his site because the park allowed more than one tent on a site.
It was the start of a very enjoyable evening. Once again I am shocked at the kindness of the people I have met.
That was it for today’s excitement.
Mike
August 7, 2002
Day 14
Dear friends and Family,
I am in Grey Bull, Wyoming. I have had an interesting day. As you know, I started in Gardiner, Montana at the North gate of Yellow Stone. Then I went to the Northeast gate and out Bear Tooth Pass. It was another fantastic ride. After crossing the pass, I took the Chief Joseph Scenic Route into Cody. When I was at the top of the pass, the clouds that I had seen in the distance descended on my side of the mountain. I could hardly see. I got behind a garbage truck to find my way down the mountain. Of course you know what happens when you get close to a garbage truck. I had to choose between the smell and having a guide lead me down the mountain. I will just take a good shower tonight. I last emailed you from Cody. When I left town it was raining. The next 50 miles were wet. I decided to stop early and get caught up on the email.
Let me continue my story from earlier.
After about an hour Old Bob said I could sleep out back. He had been outside and saw my bedroll. He cleared it with Becca. Sam said I could come out to his place and stay. I politely refused, but thanked him for this thoughtfulness.
As the night went on I learned lots about Sam. He and Levi work together. I think Levi has a ranch. They are best of friends at least as far as Sam is concerned. He reminded me of the faithful dog always watchful and grateful for what ever he gets. I learned that Sam is a jack-of-all-trades.
He was always mentioning his dad. He referred to him as old man Jackson or Daddy Jackson. The place where he lives, he refers to as Poverty Flats. As I listen and put the pieces together, I discovered that something had happened when he was 5 years old because he was not allowed to ever go to the main house again.
Sam is in his 40's. The place he lives is an old line shack that his father built when they were running horses. Sam is definitely a cowboy. Another part of the story is that his Dad died a few years ago, and a sister who lives in the family house wants to take the line shack from Sam. She is the executor of the will. He said he has not seen any of his family since he was a teen. The exception was his dad. He constantly referred to him. He taught me this, or he was hard on me. Every few sentences he mentioned his dad.
Sam kept insisting that I come out to his place. I told him I didn't want to drive the bike. He said he would drive me and bring me back. The man could barely walk. He described Poverty Flats frequently especially the more he drank. He said I could come out for breakfast; he even gave me his address and phone for the next time I passed through. He told me to tell my biker friends, which I have none; they and me are always welcome.
Sam looks and sounded a little like Sam Elliot. He was true and warm and caring. All night he kept his eye on Levi. At one point he couldn't find him and went outside to look for him. Now remember at this point he had a lot to drink, but it just magnified his characteristics. I was so impressed that he genuinely cared about a stranger. "My daddy never would let a man sleep out in the cold."
I need to get off the computer. My time has run out. I will share more of my evening in Vernal.
Mike
Dear Friends and Family
I am still in Greybull, and I am doing my laundry. I hear that Cody is the place to be.
There are only a few bikers here. I was talking to a young couple after emailing you. They came from Sturgis, and were on their way to the Grand Tetons. They have to be at a certain lookout at 4:45 on Saturday. They are getting married. They have talked to the judge via email after contacting the county records. The judge, who is a biker, said the lookout is a popular place, and it wouldn't be hard to find two witnesses. They are from St. Louis.
The other couple in the bar was on their way back to Vancouver. I find the whole thing amazing. I have talked to dozens of people from all over the country. Weather, road conditions and travel time are always the topic of conversation. I must admit that I love it even though I get tired of being by myself.
Last night I ate dinner with a guy that drives a tour bus; it was loaded with people from Korea. He wants to be a screenwriter. I didn't tell him about the people I met in Vernal. Let him get his own material.
People in Greybull are very friendly. They keep waving as they pass. I am sitting outside waiting for my dryer to finish. The A&W across the street is packed.
Goodnight,
Mike
After about an hour Old Bob said I could sleep out back. He had been outside and saw my bedroll. He cleared it with Becca. Sam said I could come out to his place and stay. I politely refused, but thanked him for this thoughtfulness.
As the night went on I learned lots about Sam. He and Levi work together. I think Levi has a ranch. They are best of friends at least as far as Sam is concerned. He reminded me of the faithful dog always watchful and grateful for what ever he gets. I learned that Sam is a jack-of-all-trades.
He was always mentioning his dad. He referred to him as old man Jackson or Daddy Jackson. The place where he lives, he refers to as Poverty Flats. As I listen and put the pieces together, I discovered that something had happened when he was 5 years old because he was not allowed to ever go to the main house again.
Sam is in his 40's. The place he lives is an old line shack that his father built when they were running horses. Sam is definitely a cowboy. Another part of the story is that his Dad died a few years ago, and a sister who lives in the family house wants to take the line shack from Sam. She is the executor of the will. He said he has not seen any of his family since he was a teen. The exception was his dad. He constantly referred to him. He taught me this, or he was hard on me. Every few sentences he mentioned his dad.
Sam kept insisting that I come out to his place. I told him I didn't want to drive the bike. He said he would drive me and bring me back. The man could barely walk. He described Poverty Flats frequently especially the more he drank. He said I could come out for breakfast; he even gave me his address and phone for the next time I passed through. He told me to tell my biker friends, which I have none; they and me are always welcome.
Sam looks and sounded a little like Sam Elliot. He was true and warm and caring. All night he kept his eye on Levi. At one point he couldn't find him and went outside to look for him. Now remember at this point he had a lot to drink, but it just magnified his characteristics. I was so impressed that he genuinely cared about a stranger. "My daddy never would let a man sleep out in the cold."
I need to get off the computer. My time has run out. I will share more of my evening in Vernal.
Mike
Dear Friends and Family
I am still in Greybull, and I am doing my laundry. I hear that Cody is the place to be.
There are only a few bikers here. I was talking to a young couple after emailing you. They came from Sturgis, and were on their way to the Grand Tetons. They have to be at a certain lookout at 4:45 on Saturday. They are getting married. They have talked to the judge via email after contacting the county records. The judge, who is a biker, said the lookout is a popular place, and it wouldn't be hard to find two witnesses. They are from St. Louis.
The other couple in the bar was on their way back to Vancouver. I find the whole thing amazing. I have talked to dozens of people from all over the country. Weather, road conditions and travel time are always the topic of conversation. I must admit that I love it even though I get tired of being by myself.
Last night I ate dinner with a guy that drives a tour bus; it was loaded with people from Korea. He wants to be a screenwriter. I didn't tell him about the people I met in Vernal. Let him get his own material.
People in Greybull are very friendly. They keep waving as they pass. I am sitting outside waiting for my dryer to finish. The A&W across the street is packed.
Goodnight,
Mike
August 8, 2002
Day 15
Dear Friends and Family,
Today was a short day but nerve racking. I left Greybull and headed to Sheridan. I crossed over the Big Horn Mountains. As with every pass, it was beautiful. The temperature was in the 60's. When I go to the top of the pass, it even got colder. I watched a large cold cloud creeping down the side of the mountain. Soon I was covered by it. The chill was instant, but the visibility was OK, maybe 50 to 100 feet. Then I rode out of it; grateful the visibility had not been worse.
Once again I started to climb the mountain and was back into the clouds again. This one was dense. It was almost impossible to see. I was coming down the mountain, and there was no place to get off. I kept hitting my turn signal hoping if someone comes from behind, they would see me. I was so relieved to finally see a car behind me. Now I could concentrate just on the road. Since I was following a car pulling a trailer, I could use his tail lights to keep me on the road. I was sure glad when I was below the cloud and able to see. The tension drained out of me.
The rest of the way to Sheridan was really cold and wet. The wind was quite strong. I pulled off the road at a rest stop. The bikers going west were adding clothes. It was cold. Hopefully it will warm up when I get further east.
I made it to Moorcraft, Wyoming and stopped for gas. Then it hit. The rain and hail dumped. It was bouncing off my helmet and bike. I found a motel and pulled the bike under the overhang to protect it.
I decided to leave early in the morning for Sturgis.
That was enough for one day.
Mike
Day 15
Dear Friends and Family,
Today was a short day but nerve racking. I left Greybull and headed to Sheridan. I crossed over the Big Horn Mountains. As with every pass, it was beautiful. The temperature was in the 60's. When I go to the top of the pass, it even got colder. I watched a large cold cloud creeping down the side of the mountain. Soon I was covered by it. The chill was instant, but the visibility was OK, maybe 50 to 100 feet. Then I rode out of it; grateful the visibility had not been worse.
Once again I started to climb the mountain and was back into the clouds again. This one was dense. It was almost impossible to see. I was coming down the mountain, and there was no place to get off. I kept hitting my turn signal hoping if someone comes from behind, they would see me. I was so relieved to finally see a car behind me. Now I could concentrate just on the road. Since I was following a car pulling a trailer, I could use his tail lights to keep me on the road. I was sure glad when I was below the cloud and able to see. The tension drained out of me.
The rest of the way to Sheridan was really cold and wet. The wind was quite strong. I pulled off the road at a rest stop. The bikers going west were adding clothes. It was cold. Hopefully it will warm up when I get further east.
I made it to Moorcraft, Wyoming and stopped for gas. Then it hit. The rain and hail dumped. It was bouncing off my helmet and bike. I found a motel and pulled the bike under the overhang to protect it.
I decided to leave early in the morning for Sturgis.
That was enough for one day.
Mike
August 9, 2002
Day 16
Dear Friends and Family,
Well I have made it to the motorcycle Mecca. Yes, I am in Sturgis. Think of the worse traffic in Chicago and double it. The place is mobbed. You actually can feel the vibrations of all of the loud exhaust pipes. There are all kinds of people and bikes. I saw a woman wearing a yellow thong and chaps. Wow! I can’t tell you what she wore on top. She attracted lots of attention.
I went shopping and bought some shirts. I got up at 6 AM and got to Sturgis at about 8 am. I was out by 10:30. The place was wall-to-wall people. It was hard to walk down the street. By 9:30 AM, 7 of the 8 blocks used for parking downtown were lined with bikes.
Everywhere you go there are tons of bikes. I am in Lead about 20 miles from Sturgis. The place is packed. I am going to explore the area and head home.
I will write more about Sturgis later.
Mike
Day 16 Continued
Dear Friends and Family,
After leaving the library, I planned to see Mount Rushmore and ride the Needles Highway. The woman that was going to get married in the Grand Tetons told me the Needles Highways was a must. I started my ride and pulled onto the road, and there were at least 25-30 bikes ahead of me. When I looked in my mirror, I could see even more bikes. They would speed up, slow down or ride next to each other. I began to feel more and more unsafe. These guys or gals would pass without looking behind. I did this for about 40 minutes. I was reminded of my first day on I-80 riding when I didn’t enjoy it. I bailed out and headed for home.
I drove about 120 miles. I had to take the expressway to get away from Sturgis. There were bikes everywhere. At one point, I was stuck in traffic for over an hour for a bridge repair. The road was becoming one lane. I turned off the bike and coasted down the mountain 5 feet at a time. When the traffic got moving again, I watched several bikes almost crash into each other. I was once again reminded that I don’t like to be around other motorcycle riders. I got off the expressway as soon as I could.
I spent the night in Phillip, SD. There were 4 bikers from BC on their way to Chicago. People I met at a lounge where I had dinner were local and had either been to Sturgis or wanted to know what I thought. I had a couple of beers and dinner and off for an early night.
Mike
August 10, 2002
Day 17
Dear Friends and Family,
My goal for today was to make it across South Dakota. I chose Highway 44; it is a little black line that crosses the entire state. I will do anything to get off by myself. At first the scenery looked like the Badlands. In fact a large Japanese family had stopped to take pictures. I pulled up; I think I made them nervous because the mother started gathering up the children. When I tried to get off the bike, the kickstand moved forward because it was on a downward slope. The bike went over on its side. I was still holding it up a bit while I was straddling it. This is an 800-pound bike without all the gear.
The Japanese man had been watching me and smiling. I could just read his polite mind. I figured he was no help. I managed to get off the bike while still holding the handlebars up, and leaned over and straightened it up. Great, but now I had to get back on and not let it slide down hill! I did manage. All along the Japanese man smiled and mother kept tabs on the children. I would love to show you the pictures I wanted to take because it was a really neat spot, but I drove on rather than risk dropping the bike again. The Japanese family seemed relieved.
The rest of the ride was uneventful with the exception of the grasshoppers. It was a beautiful day, not too hot and not too cold. There were hills to climb, but the road was straight. I didn’t mind. I finally had a chance to let my mind wander a bit – not something you can do in the mountains and live to tell about it. I only have maybe a hundred mile to go. I try to stop around 5 pm.
Since it was so warm, I had taken the chaps off hours ago. Well something hit me in the leg. I thought it was a rock. It happens, that’s why you wear chaps. A few minutes later, I got hit again. For some reason about 10 minutes later, I looked down at my boots on the highway pegs. They were covered with dead grasshoppers. I won’t go on any further, you can guess. It took me an hour to clean off the bike. What a mess!
Stopped at the local bar for a beer. There were a bunch of local bikers. They even invited me out to a birthday party for one of their friends. These were really nice clean-cut people. The one guy even gave me his cell phone number and said that someone would pick me up at the motel. I was amazed at how friendly people were. I was in Laverne, Minnesota. By the way, I didn’t go, but maybe I should have. The rest of the evening was boring.
Mike
Day 17
Dear Friends and Family,
My goal for today was to make it across South Dakota. I chose Highway 44; it is a little black line that crosses the entire state. I will do anything to get off by myself. At first the scenery looked like the Badlands. In fact a large Japanese family had stopped to take pictures. I pulled up; I think I made them nervous because the mother started gathering up the children. When I tried to get off the bike, the kickstand moved forward because it was on a downward slope. The bike went over on its side. I was still holding it up a bit while I was straddling it. This is an 800-pound bike without all the gear.
The Japanese man had been watching me and smiling. I could just read his polite mind. I figured he was no help. I managed to get off the bike while still holding the handlebars up, and leaned over and straightened it up. Great, but now I had to get back on and not let it slide down hill! I did manage. All along the Japanese man smiled and mother kept tabs on the children. I would love to show you the pictures I wanted to take because it was a really neat spot, but I drove on rather than risk dropping the bike again. The Japanese family seemed relieved.
The rest of the ride was uneventful with the exception of the grasshoppers. It was a beautiful day, not too hot and not too cold. There were hills to climb, but the road was straight. I didn’t mind. I finally had a chance to let my mind wander a bit – not something you can do in the mountains and live to tell about it. I only have maybe a hundred mile to go. I try to stop around 5 pm.
Since it was so warm, I had taken the chaps off hours ago. Well something hit me in the leg. I thought it was a rock. It happens, that’s why you wear chaps. A few minutes later, I got hit again. For some reason about 10 minutes later, I looked down at my boots on the highway pegs. They were covered with dead grasshoppers. I won’t go on any further, you can guess. It took me an hour to clean off the bike. What a mess!
Stopped at the local bar for a beer. There were a bunch of local bikers. They even invited me out to a birthday party for one of their friends. These were really nice clean-cut people. The one guy even gave me his cell phone number and said that someone would pick me up at the motel. I was amazed at how friendly people were. I was in Laverne, Minnesota. By the way, I didn’t go, but maybe I should have. The rest of the evening was boring.
Mike
August 11, 2002
Day 18
Dear friends and Family,
The motorcycles leaving next door awakened me. My goal was to cross Iowa. I hadn’t gone 10 miles, and it started to sprinkle. I managed to out run the cloud. The rest of the day, the dark clouds were always within sight. By the end of the day, the sky was cloudy, but clear of the really dark cloud from earlier in the day.
I knew I wanted to be in McGregor, Iowa. I have been there before, and it is lovely. It is right on the Mississippi River. You can go out the backside of town and climb a huge hill called Pikes Peak and look out over the entire Mississippi Valley. This is one of my favorite areas. It is as close as we come to mountains in the Midwest.
When arriving I went to the bar in the local hotel. I had been there a couple of years ago, and I like the people. I didn’t realize at the time I arrived that all of the people in the bar worked there. Sam, the bartender, also owned the hotel. I had planned to camp up on Pikes Peak. I was somewhat reluctant to camp because of all of the dark clouds earlier in the day. So when Mary Ellen, a 66 year old woman who was in charge of the housekeeping and decorator of the rooms, told me she would give me a deal on a room, I said OK.
I went up to the room about an hour later. I was shocked. The room was huge and beautiful. The tub was the old cast iron type with claw feet. The hotel is over a hundred years old. I went down and told Sam and Mary Ellen they had told me the wrong room number. Sam said it was the right one.
As the night wore on, I began to feel more and more at home. Sam, who is trying to remodel the place, talked to me like I was his best friend about the stresses of owning the place. I heard Mary Ellen’s life story. I also met several other interesting locals. All in all, it was a very pleasant evening.
I was told to make sure to find everyone in the morning before departing. I have found a home for sure. They want me to come back sometime. I think someday I will.
Mike
August 12, 2002
Day 19
This is my last ride of the trip. I am sad, but I am looking forward to being home. It has been a great adventure. I tried to rank the last three trips and couldn’t. Each one has brought its own challenges, disappointments and happiness. The highlights to all of the trips were the scenery, but more importantly the people. I know that I don’t look like an English teacher when I ride. I can see that as people stare at me or avoid looking at me. I am always amazed at the change in people when I just nod to them or say, “Hi. How are you today?” The person they see in their mind disappears. What ensues is at least a warmer greeting and often a short conversation.
I can’t tell you how often I had to tell myself especially when unpleasant things were happening that it is all part of the adventure. It was especially difficult when I saw my motorcycle in pieces on a table. The adventure for me is having no plans and no control, but trusting the people around you. For a person who likes to have everything planned out, it truly is an adventure.
Thank you for taking another trip with me. I enjoyed your notes along the way.
Mike
Day 19
This is my last ride of the trip. I am sad, but I am looking forward to being home. It has been a great adventure. I tried to rank the last three trips and couldn’t. Each one has brought its own challenges, disappointments and happiness. The highlights to all of the trips were the scenery, but more importantly the people. I know that I don’t look like an English teacher when I ride. I can see that as people stare at me or avoid looking at me. I am always amazed at the change in people when I just nod to them or say, “Hi. How are you today?” The person they see in their mind disappears. What ensues is at least a warmer greeting and often a short conversation.
I can’t tell you how often I had to tell myself especially when unpleasant things were happening that it is all part of the adventure. It was especially difficult when I saw my motorcycle in pieces on a table. The adventure for me is having no plans and no control, but trusting the people around you. For a person who likes to have everything planned out, it truly is an adventure.
Thank you for taking another trip with me. I enjoyed your notes along the way.
Mike
August 24, 2002
I have been back for almost two weeks. The good news is we won first place in the Verve, the reason I had to be back. The Verve is a sailing regatta that has 5 races over a 3-day period. There are several hundred boats competing in it.
The bad news is that already the memories of my trip are fading as I get ready to go back to school.
I have been back for almost two weeks. The good news is we won first place in the Verve, the reason I had to be back. The Verve is a sailing regatta that has 5 races over a 3-day period. There are several hundred boats competing in it.
The bad news is that already the memories of my trip are fading as I get ready to go back to school.