Many years ago, I read the book Blue Highways by William Least Heat Moon. It is the tale of a man who takes off in a used van on a journey of self-discovery by seeking out those old two-lane highways that cross this country. It was a good read and it serves as inspiration for some of the trips that I do take.
As I said, this is my first trip to Canada but my passport is full of stamps from other trips I've taken in the past decade. So, I was prepared for the routine questions as I went across the border. The Canadian official found it very curious that I had traveled around the world, ended up in Michigan, and had been there for six years without ever going to Canada. I explained I never really had a need to – I think she found this insulting.
I don't think either one of us expected that answer at that point. She got completely quiet for a moment. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to pay to cross the bridge again just to get back home if I couldn't get into Canada. Then she smiled, nodded, and then laughed.
"You know, I have asked these questions for a lot of years and that's probably the most honest answer I think I have ever heard. Welcome to Canada, eh."
Another thing, I have always relied upon McDonald's when I ride. As I have said before, they have clean restrooms, cheap drinks, and Wi-Fi. In the 300 miles or so that I rode through Canada I only saw one McDonald's. What they did have, was a lot of a place called Tim Horton's. In fact, it seemed like there was a Tim Horton's every 5 miles -- oops 8 kilometers. I ate lunch at one and had a good turkey with bacon sandwich. They also had free Wi-Fi and clean restrooms. There is civilization north of the border.
I was surprised how much more expensive gas was. I was forced to fill up at one point during the trip and I put about $20 worth in the tank. In the US, that would've filled the tank however in Canada it was only about half.
The weather continued to be cool but the scenery was nice. A few hours later, I crossed the Peace Bridge into the Buffalo, New York. The US officials only asked one question and that was if I brought anything across the border with me from Canada. I answered quite honestly only the gasoline in my tank. He laughed and made a remark about how importing gas from there wasn't cost-effective. I nodded in agreement took my passport back and headed on down the road again.
This was the first time I've ridden in New York State. My experience was riding from Buffalo to the Pennsylvania border via the interstate. So, take what I'm saying with a grain of salt. New York is the worst state of any that I've ever ridden in for motorists being aggressive towards motorcycles. I was cut off, merged on, and carelessly left turned upon as well. My Spidey sense worked overtime until I was safely across the border into Pennsylvania.
Pennsylvania was so quick it hardly made any impact on me at all. Also, at this point, the sun was down and there was so much moisture in the air that the wind-chill became a factor. I don't think the temperature was ever below 38° or so but it felt much much colder.
Once I was in Ohio, I decided that I was going to stop for the night near Cleveland rather than trying to ride all the way back home in one swoop. I found a hotel pulled in and parked. Usually, hotels let me park the bike under the awning near the door. This Hampton Inn actually had me park it on the sidewalk up near their building. Works for me.
The next morning I got up and headed out once again. The sun was out and the sky was clear. It was a beautiful day to ride. I jumped off the interstate, and rode along Highway 2 for a while. This went along the lake's edge and took me through several small towns. In short, it was the kind of riding I look for.
A final note:
When I got near Cleveland I was extremely cold and pulled off the highway to look for some coffee. As I pulled up to an intersection I found the road completely deserted due to the late hour. As I've said, when I am stuck at a light and a particularly good songs on the radio I have a tendency to dance on my bike. This serves two purposes, it lets me stretch a bit to keep from getting stiff while I'm riding and it makes me feel good -- even if it does embarrass my son if he's riding with me.
There were many things I could've done at that point. Because I was to beyond the point of caring what some stranger who happened upon me might think, I did what seemed to be the most logical – – I took a bow then continued dancing. When I next looked over at the car, the occupant had gotten out and was standing next to her car dancing along with me. I'm guessing she was between 35 and 40 and had some sort of work uniform on – but she had some moves.
When the song was over, I waved at her and jumped back on my bike and she waved back before getting into her car. Then, we both drove away from our asphalt dance floor going our separate ways into the night.
4504
4504
No comments:
Post a Comment