Bill & Brad's Motorcycle Adventure 2021
Day 1 June 2nd
Brad and Krista started from Butler, Pennsylvania and rode east along I-80. I started in Stafford, Virginia and followed route 15 North thru northern Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania. After riding about five hours, we met in Danville, Pennsylvania. Brad and Krista were eating pie at a diner when I arrived. I ordered brunch. I got a hot coffee because my hands were wet and cold. The temperatures were about 50 to 60 degrees with scattered showers. When we departed the diner, we had an eye on the clouds in the sky. I watched oncoming traffic for windshield wipers being used. This will alert us if we should stop and put on rain suits. We really don’t want to wear rain suits unless it is pouring rain. Those rain suits will bake a person!
One goal of this year’s ride is to visit our longtime friend Earl. He lives in northwestern Massachusetts. Brad and Earl served together in the Marines. The last time I saw Earl was in Laughlin, Nevada during a motorcycle rally in 2005. It was shortly after the big biker shootout in Las Vegas. Laughlin police had a heavy presence at the rally. Seems there were officers near every corner in town. No glass bottles. No flashing boobs. I recall Laughlin cancelled the Laughlin River Run Rally the year prior due to the recent violence in Las Vegas. Despite the new reports of violence, there was a large crowd of participants. This was the time period of motorcycle building shows on television. The Discovery Channel sponsored many biker build off type shows. Many of those well known personalities were at the rally.
My memory of riding with Earl was in Nevada 2005. Earl, Brad and I were at the Laughlin River Run Rally standing in line to get players cards at one of the large casinos. I had noticed the casino security guards talking on their handheld radios. It seemed as there was a bit of excitement among the security guards. They were positioned around the large reception area where we were standing. I alerted Brad and Earl when I noticed more security guards arriving in the room. Something was happening or soon to happen. There must have been something that attracted the close attention of those security guards. The three of us were innocent bystanders ready to witness some action! We are all Marines so we recognize tactics of security personnel. We were clean cut wearing our jeans and some bike rally t-shirts. Earl had retired from the military a couple years prior. He was still clean cut. Earl does have quite a few tattoos. He added more tattoos to his neck and arms since leaving the military service. As a matter of fact, the Baskin Robins inside the hotel had removed all their ice cream and turned the store into a makeshift tattoo parlor to offer fresh ink to rally participants. Earl had more ink work done inside that Baskin Robins during the rally. Then it happened. Security was making their move. We watched eagerly to see who had gained the attention of the eager security guards. Surely it was some bad biker criminal type. There were some rough looking characters at motorcycle rallies. Although once you get past appearances, most are really good characters. Many are professional and family orientated people out at a rally having a good time with like-minded folks. Not sure what a real criminal would look like. We were about to find out. We had front row seats! The security guards took their first steps moving quickly towards their suspect. As security charged forward we quickly realized that they were sprinting toward us! Surprise! We were viewed as the criminal bad guys! Security moved in on us! Three regular guys standing in line to get casino players cards in hopes of collecting points for some sort of hotel comps during the rally. What was happening? What have we done? Who did we resemble and what did they do? Security focused on Earl. He has bamboo shoots tattooed on his neck. He might look the toughest out of the three of us. He was the smallest. Could it be his tattoos? No, it was his t-shirt! Earl wore a t-shirt with the Hollister brand logo. The brand was popular during that time. The shirt appeared to have a biker club logo on it. The club logos have three patches on the back of vests and jackets. The “three patch” identifies the motorcycle club and chapter. Many events prohibit wearing of “club colors” or the “three patches” during the event. It is believed that some clubs are not compatible with other clubs. Prohibiting club colors is one step taken by establishments to reduce the risk of violence. The rules for this rally prohibited “club colors”. Earl ended up taking off his Hollister t-shirt. We had no idea that a shirt purchased a big box department store could cause so much commotion. I doubt that t-shirt would have been mistaken for club colors among the biker community. It was a fad. Many teens and adults were wearing those shirts. Makes for a funny story! Even funnier, Earl used the hotel players club card and won a six piece luggage set. That was an adventure in itself - strapping those suitcases to Earl’s motorcycle. Then riding back to California.
Day 1 riding ended in an eastern New York town called Catskill. We were dodging rain all afternoon. We had to stop before the rain poured down on us. Besides, the sun was setting soon and we’d be in the dark. I saw a sign from the road advertising the Catskill Inn. I’ve heard the area was a tourist area so we stopped. Once we exited the highway, we noticed there were very limited hotel choices. The Catskill Inn was it. We were in a take it or ride into the rainy night situation.
This motel has the room doors that open to the outside parking lot. We noted some road crew workers hanging out one end of the hotel. This is common for us to see some type of construction crews living in hotels as we travel. It usually indicated that the hotel was a good place. So we checked for availability and got two rooms. We soon realized the uniqueness of this motel and the rooms. Those road signs advertising a resort area were misleading. Maybe they were true in the 1960 and 1970s! Today, this is not a motel you want to be at on vacation with family! It did have the basics, door, bed, shower, toilet and tv. The walls were paper-thin. Seriously. I could hear every sound in the parking lot thru my door. We found out that the other guests were permanent residents who were renting the rooms as low-income family housing.
Let me describe our rooms. My towel rack in the bathroom was a drywall screw. The toilet seat had a cigarette burn on the edge. The floor didn’t have any carpet so noises such as footsteps were amplified and echoed inside the room. The peaceful night was interrupted with loud talking and yelling in the parking lot. The door to my room had a three-inch gap under it. The toe of my boot could fit under the door separating my room from the outside world. The room had a tall chest of drawers in it. That was odd. Usually hotels have a set of drawers that is lower were a traveler can set a suitcase or bag on top. Not this one. It was like the tall chest of drawers in my grandparent’s house. So I scooted the chest of drawers across the room and blocked the outside door. The door lock was the single doorknob twist lock from the inside. Nothing else. I wanted to create some kind of warning for myself in the event someone tries to enter my room in the middle of the night. Maybe it is my phobia. I have been in hotel rooms overseas and one time I woke in the middle of the night finding a hotel staff person inside my room. Ever since, I have rigged some type of noise making contraption to act as an alarm so I can wake and draw my weapon.
The next morning Krista asked me how I enjoyed sleeping on an air mattress. What? The bed in Brad and Krista’s room was an air mattress! This is a first. Curiosity got me thinking if Krista had the lucky room or were other rooms fitted with air mattresses. I didn’t notice the mattress in my room. I know I had a mattress. I laid on it. I didn’t turn down the blanket because I use a sleeping bag on top of the hotel blankets. I was more concerned with the shadows and sounds outside my room window. I ran back to my room to check the mattress. Sure enough! It was an air mattress! I reported back to Brad and Krista confirming that I had an air mattress too. I told them about my drywall screw type towel rack. Krista told me that the same type of screw was used to tie their curtains back. She stated the bathroom lights was a vanity with three screw-in lights however one bulb was missing. The TV in their room was mounted on the wall with wiring tangled and leading to a cable box also mounted to the wall below the TV with even more wires hanging and leading down to the electric receptacle. Brad says that isn’t the worse of it. There was a hole under the wall! What? A hole? Under the wall? How could this be? I had to see it. There was an HVAC vent on the floor. The builder placed the wall over the middle of the floor vent. Brilliant, the vent can serve two hotel rooms at once! This is crazy! See the photos to believe it for yourself!
That night at the hotel we decided to book a taxi to go downtown for dinner and drinks. No Uber in the area. We were in luck. The motel manager gave us the number to the local taxi. There were only three taxis in town and one was on a long distance fare. Small town. I enjoy how everyone knows what the taxi drivers are up to. After a few short moments, the taxi arrived in the motel parking lot. Well, it was a small mini van with a taxi sign on top. The driver had a person who seemed to be her adult son sitting in the front passenger seat. These two were talking really loud to each other. Almost yelling. Very strange. Brad, Krista and I climbed thru the sliding door of the old minivan. I could feel the shocks bottom out as I sat down. The minivan looked to have every bit of 300,000 miles on it. It was clearly on its last leg. Brad quickly notices the clanking sound of the rear axle as the van makes a u-turn in the motel parking lot. I felt we might have been better off walking. The taxi driver gave us her views of the local eateries. As we passed a dinner club, she stated it was way too fancy. Brad told her we wanted seafood. Just as those two sentences were voiced, we had traveled from one end to the other end of Main Street! Small town. We had dinner at a very nice restaurant called Frank Guido’s Port of Call. It was an awesome place right on the Hudson River. It has an outdoor dining area but the rain was starting to come down in sheets. We waited at the bar until a table opened up. The food was great. Our waiter wanted to know more about motorcycles. He expressed a desire to buy one. Brad and I gave advice such as we don’t believe in “starter” bikes. Get the motorcycle you want and learn to ride it. Take a motorcycle safety course. If you meet Brad, ask him how many payments he made on his Softail Heritage before riding it off the showroom floor. The dealership might have charged him storage until he took the safety course and learned to ride.
At the end of the night we asked the restaurant staff to call us a taxi. Between the hotel manager and the first taxi ride, we learned there were only three taxis in town. One was on a long distance trip to Albany so she wasn’t available. Again, small town and the restaurant staff even knew a taxi driver was on a long fare. Memories of the motel room and the first taxi were fresh on our mind as we waited for another taxi. The first taxi was a minivan that felt like it had some gazillion miles with the rear axel falling off it. What would the next taxi be like? We joked to each other about the first taxi. We remember the driver yelling at her adult son in front of passengers. Then a clean newer model SUV pulls up. It was our taxi! We ran thru the rain and jumped inside the clean blacked out SUV. The driver spoke very professionally. The interior was fresh and clean. What a difference! It cost 1/3 the price of the first taxi. The minivan taxi charged us by the person. This taxi charged us by the trip from the restaurant to the hotel. It was pouring rain most of the evening so we appreciate the taxi rides.
Day 2, June 3, 2021
We left Catskill and headed northeast along state highways until we crossed into Massachusetts. We visited our friend Earl near North Adams, Massachusetts.
We left Earl’s house, got on state Highway 2 and headed east to the 495 and onto I-95 into Maine. We stayed at Bentley’s Saloon in Arundel. Brad and I were familiar with Bentley’s Saloon from past motorcycle rides in the area. We were happy that a room was available for us.
Brad, Krista and I had dinner at Bentley’s. We didn’t want a large dinner so we all ordered something from the appetizer section. The logic was that it would be small and we could share without eating too much. The order of nachos came. It was huge! I got a taco salad that was huge too! Good food as usual. We ate and then looked at the motorcycle themed decorations. We saw the Captain America Bike and the large hog statue with women’s bras hanging on the ceiling above. It is rumored that during a full moon, women ride the pig topless and hang their bras on the ceiling.
Day 3/4/5.
Day three was a motorcycle ride to explore the area along the coast. Krista had a list of lighthouses to navigate to. Being the navigator, my head hurt trying to remember the directions. I usually look at a map, follow road signs and figure it out. It may not be the most efficient or direct route but I usually get there or find someplace better! I despise the use of a GPS or map app that will add a dozen turns to lessen the ride by a minute. Not to mention on a motorcycle I tend to avoid left hand turns across traffic. I use lights and stop signs to protect any left turn. I have my own style of navigation. Sure not everyone agrees. I am guilty of attempting to add two hours to a ride out of Deadwood, South Dakota one year while leading a group of friends. Krista was with us that year too. She must have remembered and she helped navigate to the lighthouses so we didn’t spend too much time exploring my version of finding the lighthouses. There was construction in SACO that day so even the map app was making us go in circles. It all made for an exciting tour of the town! We ended up on Old Orchard Beach, visiting Saco, Ferry Beach State Park, Cape Elizabeth, Fort Williams Park, and west to Cornish where we stopped at Bay Haven Lobster Pound for dinner. This is the same lobster pound that Brad and I ate at several years ago. Brad recalls we paid around $22 dollars for two lobster dinners back then. This time is was around $50 for one lobster dinner! Market prices do fluctuate plus inflation. Regardless, the lobster was fresh, not rubbery and of good taste. It was worth it!
After our ride to Cornish, Maine, we stayed at Bentley’s another night. This time we stayed in one of the RV trailers in the campground. It was pretty neat. We were able to walk to and from the saloon since it was all on the same property. So Brad and I ended up closing the bar down. We don’t drink much but we do people watch. Brad enjoys telling our stories to anyone interested. The weather was comfortable and clear. There was a live band playing with a good size crowd of people. We met a small group of women who were having some sort of reunion. They enjoyed Brad’s jokes and stories. At one point, Bentley the owner came out to watch the band. I was wearing a Poopy’s 2% Biker Bar shirt from Savanna, Illinois. A few guys recognized it and spoke with me. Some folks got a kick out of Poopy’s 2% logo. Search the past stories about Poopys in Illinois.
Day four was back on the road heading west. The plan was go to western New York and visit Brad’s cousin. There we would split up and go our separate ways. We rode through New Hampshire passing thru the White Mountains near Crawford Notch on route 302. I remember crossing the state line into Vermont and stopping at the large general store tourist type area. A large wooden moose near the road caught my eye so we pulled in and parked. I snapped a couple photos of the moose and then the sky opened up and rained hard for a good half hour or so. We toured the shops and sat on benches in front of the store until the rain stopped. We were on route 4 near the Quechee State Park. The name of the town will come to me and I remember that the place had a llama petting area! And ice cream!
Somewhere in Vermont we decided we’ve been riding long enough and we should get a hotel at the next town. At a gas station we learned that during the pandemic, (COVID) Vermont had closed the highways and set up roadblocks checking ID cards. Officials were only allowing Vermont residents to enter the state. Based off the statements from the folks we met at the gas station, Vermont was pretty strict with movement during the pandemic.
Brad and I checked the phone apps for nearby hotels. Brad called one that had a room but they had to confirm our vaccination status. By this time America was open again. Brad and I scratched our heads and wondered how the hotel could enforce this with HIPAA privacy rules. Other hotels we called had zero vacancy. So we rode to the hotel that requested to know our vaccination status. As soon as we entered the lobby the receptionist stated there were no more rooms. We were puzzled because on the phone the receptionist stated there were rooms available. It took less then ten minutes to ride from the gas station to the hotel. What changed? Did a group arrive before us taking the last of the rooms? Are we being refused rooms because of our attire? Were our motorcycle exhausts too loud as we parked out front of the hotel? We wore jeans, motorcycle jackets, and Brad wears a black leather vest with patches. Are we being turned away because we didn’t want to answer vaccination questions? It definitely felt like some sort of discrimination. Brad, Krista and I are all military veterans. We can be discriminated against. At that moment inside the hotel lobby in Vermont, we felt it. I feel that many Americans have allowed the pandemic and political figures to create a division among us.
Riding motorcycles thru Vermont was enjoyable. I enjoyed the twisty two lane roads. Krista got excited to see some covered bridges. We ended up crossing the state line and finding a hotel in New York. This hotel happily accepted our money with no interest in our motorcycles, clothes or vaccination status. That next morning a man was alone trying to load his dresser (Harley Electra glide) on a trailer. The motorcycle wouldn’t start and the man wasn’t able to push the bike up the ramp on the trailer. Brad and I helped get the motorcycle loaded and strapped down. The man said he was from the Chesapeake, Virginia area. We stood outside the lobby chatting awhile.
The ride to western New York was sort of boring. We took the interstate. There was some road construction. Oh, wait, I thought it was sort of boring. Brad was riding what is known as “two up” with Krista. This was our first NoWhereRide annual trip with Krista. All these years riding with Brad, I have served as the navigator. I also have the smallest fuel tank at 5 gallons. Brad’s motorcycle has a 6-gallon fuel capacity. His bike also has a 6th gear. This makes for a challenge to match the speed of my 5 speed.
The point is I have the smaller fuel tank. So my motorcycle needs fuel miles and miles before Brad’s motorcycle. Over the years and miles riding together, Brad has never pulled up next to me pointing at his fuel tank. This gesture is the biker sign language for “I need fuel” or “lets stop at the next gas station.” So fuel is never a concern for us. When my bike needs fuel, I pull over and we both top off the tanks. So I am cruising down the highway. Leaning back with my feet on the highway pegs. Day dreaming. Navigating thru construction zones where two lanes go into one. No real stops only slow downs. Life is good. Then I notice that Brad is no longer directly behind me. There are about four cars between us. I think to myself, this is odd. How did this happen? We are riding thru a section of construction zone where one lane is closed. Orange cones keep the lane next to us closed. How did those cars get between Brad and I?
I look down at my fuel gauge and check my trip meter. I have about 50 miles before needing fuel. So I pass the next exit still puzzled how those cars got between us. Then in my mirror I see Brad’s bike dart off the exit. Something must be wrong. Maybe Krista has to pee? So I pick up the pace and exited the freeway at the next opportunity. I call Brad and we end up playing phone tag. I fuel up. When I get in contact with Krista, it turns out they were running out of fuel. Their fuel light was on for miles and miles. His bike was burning more fuel than usual because he was riding “two up”. More weight requires more fuel. I haven’t considered that. The last few days we were exploring. We had frequent stops and did not allow the tanks to get too low. This day was different. We were on the freeway cruising with the goal to get to Brad’s cousin’s house for a visit. We were literally riding from gas stop to gas stop.
A boring ride? Not for Brad. He was following me. After his low fuel light came on he naturally thought that I’d be in the same situation regarding fuel level. He figured I’d be pulling over at the next exit to fuel up. It didn’t happen. I passed several exits. I imagine Brad’s pulse increase and sweat form on his brow as mile after mile passed with the glowing of the low fuel light. That light means he will soon run out of fuel! He did flash his lights and attempt to exit thinking I’d get the message and exit too. I failed to see his signal. He aborted the attempt to exit and got back on the freeway at an effort to keep us together. This is the point when the cars got between us. Surely I’d get clue and exit by now. I didn’t. Brad had to exit and get fuel before the tank was completely empty.
Not a big deal. We know what happened. Now we need to find each other. I returned to the freeway and went back one exit. Piece of cake, right? I’ll see them at the gas station near the exit. Not there. Not at any of the three stations off the exit. Now we are playing phone tag. Brad and Krista got back on the freeway to find me. Remember, we are riding motorcycles. I keep my phone inside my pocket or tour pack. No fancy electronics on my bike. Krista told me the exit number. I exited to find the gas station. She sounded like it was the only gas station at that exit number. I saw four gas stations! I took the correct exit number. We confirmed. We also confirmed that we were not describing anything that is familiar to each other. So I look at the handy dandy road atlas (paper map) and see a rest area west bound a few miles away. We agree to meet there. Brad and Krista arrived there first. They share our situation with a trucker. The trucker explains that the east and west bound exit numbers were not the same in this specific section of interstate. Who knew? We learned! I arrive at the rest area and see Brad and Krista waiting on a pic nic table. We told our stories and there you have it. We proceeded to our destination. I hung in my hammock on Brad’s cousin’s property while we visited a couple days.
The end for now.
Enjoy the pics.
