robdale.ca

Of all the comments I receive about my blog, the most common involved the picture at the top of the site. For many, the first thing that they notice is that I’m not wearing a helmet. It’s amazing to me just how many people comment on that.

Let me make it clear that the picture was taken during the road trip I enjoyed last Fall. I can’t remember what State I was in when I took the picture, but it was either Colorado, Arizona, or New Mexico. All of which do not require those over the age of 17 to wear a helmet (See Helmet laws by State). Here in Ontario (like the rest of Canada), I am required by law to wear a helmet, and I do.

I don’t like wearing a helmet. I know that some of you have just written me off for saying such a thing. But, I don’t. If I had my way, I would ride helmetless all the time (except maybe in very cold weather or when it’s raining hard, then I’d prefer a full face). I don’t like the fact that the government has decided that I must wear a helmet for my own safety while riding.

Now, I know that some of you will want to toss out to me all the reports and articles that suggest wearing a helmet could save my life. It’s not the point. Those who fall back on the studies really don’t get it. If we’re going to argue that riders should wear a helmet for safety, then we should make it a law that they were full leathers as well. Heck, let’s just outlaw riding motorcycles all together, since we all know that you are more likely to die in a motorcycle accident than in a car accident. No, this isn’t about safety.

Others will argue that riders should be forced to wear a helmet because those who don’t will cost everyone when our health care system has to take care of them as they lay in a coma in a hospital bed. Again, if that’s your argument, then simply outlaw motorcycles completely and you’ll save even more. At the same time, outlaw smoking and gluttony, since those two vices cost taxpayers far more than any motorcyclist ever has.

You see, the issue is about choice. Every time our government introduces a new law (no matter what that law is about), we remove a little more “choice.” Freedom becomes a little less … free. Some laws are good. They protect innocent people from stupid people. Some laws are intended to protect people from themselves. And I have an issue with most of those laws.

Some argue that I should wear a helmet all the time because I am a “role model” to many within the motorcycle community. I say that if you choose to take off your helmet because I choose to take mine off, then you’re an idiot. You should probably hand in your motorcycle license until you can learn to ride for yourself and not for others.

You see, I’ve counted the cost. I’ve talked it over with my family. I’m comfortable with the risk. And, when possible, I choose to ride without a helmet. I love the feeling of freedom I experience when cruising down an open road with the wind blowing in my hair. It’s a choice I make. It’s a choice I should be free to make.

I wish Ontario would reconsider the helmet law. I know they wont. I would be shocked if there will ever be the day when I can ride without a helmet here at home. Perhaps the only way the law could change is if they introduced a waiver that riders could purchase. The government could make money by giving us the freedom to choose. But, unfortunately, far too many people think the government’s role is to protect us from ourselves. And far too many of us simply let them.

Until then, I’ll take my trips to the U.S. and find those areas that allow me to unhook my helmet, and ride free.

Look forward to your comments.

As many of you know, I’m a firm believer is utilizing social media such as Twitter and Facebook. When these tools are used right, they open the door to incredible connections with people from around the world. At least, that’s been my experience.

Last Fall, I headed out on the road for 25 days. During that time, I put over 13,000 kms on my 94 Dyna WideGlide. The bike now has over 200,000 kms (engine was rebuilt around 110,000 kms). It’s a phenomenal bike that has served me well during the few years that I’ve owned her.

A few months before I left on my trip, I met this very interesting biker chick on Twitter. Kelly (@FieryPinkGirl) seemed to be into everything. She talked about her graphic design work, working on her (very cool) Buell, and even dabbling into tattooing. Early into chatting with her, I connected with her fiance, Jason (@HellcatCustoms), owner of Hellcat Customs. He was equally interesting and seemed to be the kind of brother that I would love to find out more about.

As I planned out the trip, the three of us, along with three or four other twitter friends, decided to hook up at the Vegas Bike Show. While I spent most of my time with another twitter bro (@SmoothBiker), I did get to hang out a bit with Jason & Kelly. And, it was a blast. I felt part of “the family” with all of them.

Within a few weeks of arriving home, Jase got in touch with me and asked if he could paint my bike. He had always wanted to do a “religious themed” paint job, and now had the chance. I was floored at the invitation, because I had seen his work on Vegas and knew that this was one of the best custom bike builders I had ever met. To say that I was excited would be an understatement.

But then, a fire destroyed Jase’s shop. My attention turned from getting a paint  job to helping a brother in need. Through the generosity of bikers from around the world, we were able to raise some cash to help Jase keep going while insurance was all sorted out. I had decided not to bring up the paint job again, because I figured he would be far too busy focusing on getting Hellcat Customs off the ground again. But, he didn’t forget. He’s not that kind of guy. He had made a commitment, and asked me when I was going to send down my tins. They were in the mail a week later.

I want to share some of Jason’s words about the paint job. I’ll interject some of my own thoughts as well as a few pictures to help illustrate. These are the first pictures and there will be much better ones taken in the near future.

Here’s some of Jase’s thoughts on the overall job:

Well I just got back from the UPS Store. Shipped my first custom paint job since the rebuild to Canada … I did things very different. I made myself very uncomfortable doing it, but for a reason. Normally I’d pull the paint completely off and start fresh, not this time. The parts had some digs, rock chips, and scratches it had received during its many miles this man has traveled on it. I fixed one dent in the tank and chose to leave some of the other imperfections on purpose… yeah I know, big no no for a custom painter. I chose to do it because this bike isn’t a trailer queen… its a real rider. Its been across two countries that I know of under its own power. The imperfections it came to me with are scars and badges of honor in my eyes. I painted it all here at my house in the kitchen, like I did my first few paint projects for myself years ago. I used a cheap paint gun and a cheap airbrush here at the kitchen table. I colorsanded it by hand with no block in the bath tub. it got polished with a polish pad and a drill… I went completely back to the beginning of my start to do it. I figured since this man did what he could to help out to start over that I needed to start completely over and do things the way I did back then and not the way we do them for show bikes and cars. The idea in this job was to produce something beautiful and different while I was restarting the company. I did. I did it different than I did months before…got to step back to my roots and remember how hard it used to be to produce a diamond out of nothing with no fancy equipment or tricks. I wanted to reconnect with myself and my skills, I did, much deeper than I woulda thought.
Rob Dale, he’s the owner… I really hope he is happy and proud to own this piece. Not because its a show piece, not because of the subject matter, just because its the only one…was done for him as a brother in older methods… I hope he sees things the way I do on how it turned out. This wasn’t a hired show bike build, this was a from the heart meaningful gift…one I hope has as much meaning to him as it does me. There were times during the job things this man has said to me really hit hard and caused a somewhat watery response. I honestly have only been able to talk to him in person for a few hours over the course of a weekend…yet somehow he feels to be blood. Our ideas about life and many of our life experiences are so closely aligned you would swear we lived next door to one another. He is def family.

Again, anyone who says social media is a waste of time, simply hasn’t made the types of connections that I have made. You don’t become family through something that is a “waste of time.” My feelings about Jase and Kells are mutual. They are family. Heather hasn’t met them yet, and still she feels the same way about them. She can’t wait to meet them face to face.
Jase then begins to explain the three parts of the paint job. I’ll use his words and include pictures.

The first piece in this 3 part job is the front fender… I used a video of one of Your speeches to get the image, it represents Faith.

If you watch any of the Bikers’ Church videos, you’ll see this cross behind me when I’m speaking.

What Jase doesn’t know is that this cross was made by a welder who is also a biker and attends the church. Mike designed this cross specifically for the church. He made the simple cross, the put the vines and thorns on it to represent some of the challenges we face on the spiritual journey. If you look closely, you’ll see a motorcycle riding up the cross, representing all the bikers who take this journey.

This picture doesn’t really do the paint justice. When you look at it in the daylight, it almost has a three dimensional look to it. It’s simply amazing.

Jase continues …

The second piece is the tank. The image on it represents Forgiveness and humble men.

Jason got this image from a image hanging in the church he attended as a child. It’s from the 1800′s, and it is something he has never forgotten. In fact, he was even in contact with his grandmother for inspiration.

I think this picture captures the idea of Jesus that I have always appreciated. I’ve never seen Jesus as week or “americanized.” Rather, I’ve seen his as a carpenter’s son. A man who worked with his hands. A face weathered by the climate of his day.

But also the Son of God. A man on a mission to set people free to experience the journey with him. Jason captured that image better than I could have imagined.

The third image really blew me away. This was all I had from him before I got the pieces:

The third is the rear fender. The image represents Love, Peace, and Hope … The Rear really was tough, the subject matter alone was hard enough with the low quality photo I had from the internet … but when you get really really personal with artwork it really scares me to do it, but I did anyways. Enjoy Brother … With that fender on there you will always have an angel watching your back and faith up front to guide your way.

Of course, this is a picture of my daughter, K.D. He took the image from this post that I wrote in January. He had some help, though. He spoke with both my daughter (@brisni), Heather (@pipesdale) and a brother from the church (@donbleecker) as he worked on it.

And yes, he captured her beautifully. It was completely unexpected. I was speechless as I opened the box and looked at it for the first time. Both Heather and Brit knew what was coming, and so they both stood and watched as I pulled the fender out of its protective covering.

I have gone out and looked at that image more times than I can count since putting the bike back together.

So, there you have it. A paint job that is so personal and tells much of my story like no other paint job could do. It’s simply amazing.

I realize that I have readers from all over the world that tune in to this blog. Still, if you are looking to get work done – not just painting, but any kind of customization – and you want someone who clearly puts his heart into everything he does, then you have to check out www.hellcatcustoms.com. He truly is a biker who understand. He’s truly a good friend.

One of the people I met during my road trip in September/October was Cindy, owner of Style Saver Scarves.

She recently had her product featured on Garage Girls. I figured that since we’re still a month or two away from riding here in Ottawa, I’d show you the video in case you want to order one of these great scarves. Check out their website here.

In a previous post, I shared the story of meeting Paul, author of www.themotoworld.com and a serious podcaster.

The night I spent at Paul’s, he recorded a podcast with me. You can listen to that podcast here. The interview with me begins around 17 minutes in.

I encourage you to subscribe to his podcast so that you can listen to some great interviews with far greater motorcyclist than I.

Hope you enjoy the audio.

Well, it’s been a few days now since I arrived back home. Over the course of my trip, I thought of so many simple things that I wanted to pass on to those of you who have been following this journey with me. Of course, now that I’m home, I forget half of them! So, this might be part one of a number of post-ride submissions.

I must say that the trip was amazing. So many commented on how envious they were about this trip. Many bikers dream of taking a lengthy road trip, and yet few actually do it. There are a number of reasons why many don’t ever take the time, but if we are really honest, they are often just excuses. It is possible for most bikers to do something close to what I did. Maybe not twenty five days, or even three weeks. But most could jump on their bike for a couple of weeks and explore at least part of the country. It may take a few years to plan. But I can’t encourage it enough. If you can make it happen, then do it. Plan for it. Work it into your long term schedule. And do it. It is something you’ll never regret.

I learned a lot on this trip. At the top of the list was what I learned about America. I’ve mentioned often that I am a proud Canadian, and prior to this trip, America was, well, just there. I’ve never had the “hate on” for Americans like some people do, but I wasn’t one to fall all over the U.S. either. Canadians are often seen as the “forgotten cousin” to the States. Even though our countries are closer allies than any other countries, we seem to just get lost in the shuffle. For some Canadians, this is a sore point. For me, it’s no big deal. I don’t mean this in an offensive way, and those of you who met me during this road trip will take this for what it is, but Americans (and I’m generalizing here) really don’t understand much beyond their borders.

Again, it’s not meant to be offensive, it’s just reality. Canadians, it seems, are more like Europeans in that they take an interest in what is happening in the rest of the world. Perhaps it’s out of necessity. We’re a pretty small country (population wise), and we depend on other countries for our sense of well being. Americans don’t have that need. They are a fairly independent bunch. Their actions affect the rest of us, not the other way around.

Having said all that, some of the bikers I met on this trip had a very decent understanding of issues that affect not just Americans, but the rest of the world. I loved the discussion I had with some people over a late night meal on Freemont Street in Vegas (you know who you are). I was impressed with the intelligence and depth of the discussion that took place regarding a number of issues.

I fell in love with much of America on this trip. While there are still different countries that I would love to visit at some point in life, I could see myself taking in some of the more incredible American places again. I have to go back and spend more time at the Grand Canyon. I would love to rediscover Death Valley with family and friends. I want to do the Pacific Coast highway again, hopefully with a little less fog. One of the comments I made often to those I visited with was how incredibly diverse is the American landscape. To ride mountain ranges and flat valleys in the same day was amazing. I had more than a few people respond by telling me how long it had been since they had enjoyed those very roads, even though they were doable in a weekend trip. Folks, get out and enjoy the incredible scenery God has blessed you with.

American people are, for the most part, incredibly friendly. Everywhere I went, I found myself engaging in conversations with strangers. I would check in at a hotel and spend fifteen minutes chatting with the staff. Gas station attendants, waiters, and customers standing in line were all quite willing to engage is quick, polite conversations. I wondered if my appearance would cause some to keep their distance, but I didn’t sense that at any time (well, other than the hotel dude in the Rockies! LOL). This might sound funny to some, but I really like Americans a lot more now than before.

So, what about the ride itself? Let me offer some simple tips and ideas for those who might plan a trip like this one.

• Ride your own ride. I mentioned this in one of the first posts, so I wont go into much detail here. But, know your style, your bike, etc. and do it your way. Don’t change things just because you’re going on a longer ride. I am so glad I didn’t add the windshield, etc. to my bike like I had planned. I was as comfortable on the first day of my journey as I was the last day, because I knew my ride.
• Load up your bike. Then get rid of half the stuff you are thinking of taking. I read this in another blog and wished I had listened more closely. I thought I was packing lightly. I packed for a week. A week’s worth of underwear, socks, t-shirts. An extra pair of jeans, two long sleeve shirts, a sweatshirt. Too much. Way too much. Yes, I needed that much underwear and socks, but I ended up picking up a few t-shirts. In fact, half way through the trip, I mailed home most of the shirts and one of the long sleeves. I just didn’t need the stuff, and it was taking up room on the bike. Yes, you need the essentials. You need a rain suit (even if I didn’t really use it). But you can always buy an extra sweatshirt at WalMart or Target if you get cold.
• If you are camping, plan ahead. When I started out, my thought was to camp almost every night. I figured I’d hotel it only two or three days and camp the rest. I ended up hoteling it every night but a few. In fact, while in Vegas, I mailed home my camping gear just to take all the useless weight off my bike. Why didn’t I camp? For one, because of the time of year I did my trip, it often got chilly in the evening. After riding all day, I didn’t want to sleep outside. At the same time, I had difficulty finding campsites. It’s amazing how many campsites are for RVs only. Finally, I was surprised at the cost of campsites. The cost to pitch a tent was almost always within $5 of the cost of a local Motel 6. For $5, what would you do? Sleep outside on the ground, or enjoy a hot shower and a bed? If you are going to camp, I would suggest spending a little extra time mapping out your route and finding campsites before you leave.
• Decide what you want to accomplish. Look, there were a lot of things I didn’t see on this trip. I skipped L.A. completely. I rushed through the mid-west, pushing through the flatlands until I hit Colorado. I rode the interstate right beside the Blue Ridge Mountains, skipping Deal’s Gap. I had decided before I left that the best riding would be on the West Coast (because of the time of year I was doing this trip). So, I pushed it hard until I got there. And then, I slowed down, took my time, and enjoyed the West.
• Don’t feel the need to prove anything. Maybe this one is just for me. I’m riding a 94 Wide Glide with 200,000 kms, no windshield, doing a trip that will end up being 13,000 kms long. And yet, when I put my full face helmet on, I had to fight the insecurity of wondering what a “hard core” biker would think. How stupid is that? There were days when I just felt like wearing the full face. My eyes appreciated those days. My burnt lip thanked me. My peeling nose enjoyed the break. In fact, there were a few times when I was riding through a state with no helmet law that I found myself putting on the full face along with my headphones so that I could enjoy a few hours of music. This is probably true whether you are riding across the Nation or across the city, but if you are riding your bike in order to prove something to someone else, then you should park it and take your car.

I had about fifty more things to put on that list, but I need my friend Michael’s photographic memory to pull them out again.

Let me conclude this post by sharing a little of what I learned about myself during this trip.

Before I left on this trip, I told Heather that I wanted to prove something to myself. That I could do it. That I could handle whatever happened on the trip. I wanted to overcome insecurities, doubt, fear. I think I accomplished that. Those who know me here in Ottawa will tell you that I’m not the best at navigation. I’m not sure I’m any better at figuring out directions after the trip, but I’m a lot more confident in trying. I’m more willing to explore new areas just because I can.

The funny thing is, I didn’t have any great revelation while on this trip. I realized that I am the person I thought I was before the trip. I didn’t come home a totally changed person. For the most part, I think I’m the same guy who headed out on this trip about a month ago.

Anyway, I do feel like I’m rambling a bit. This post didn’t go in the direction I planned for it when I sat down and started writing. But, what are you going to do? Sue me?

Over the next few days I’m going to go through my pictures and put together a bit of a slide show which I will post here for those of you who might want to see some of the places I travelled through. And, I plan on continuing to update my blog, focusing on motorcycle related stuff as well as ministry related things. I also plan on writing a e-book on here over the next while that might be of interest to some of you. So, hopefully now that you’ve found this site, you’ll check back often. Or, better yet, subscribe so that you don’t miss any of the posts.

Again, thanks for joining me on this journey.

I wasn’t sure if I should call today’s entry “Day Twenty Six” since technically, I wasn’t on the bike at all today. I did drive about 500 miles, but it was in the truck. Still, it was part of the trip across America, so here we go.

Heather arrived around 7pm on Friday evening. It was great seeing her, and we enjoyed hanging out and chatting about the trip. Since it was already getting dark, we decided to hold off until the morning to load my bike into the trailer.

Little did we realize the kind of day we were going to have.

It was a great feeling putting running shoes on rather than my bike boots in the morning. It was also nice to simply throw my stuff in the back of the truck, rather than take the time to strap it all on the bike. After loading my stuff, we looked around for an easy place to load the bike. I wanted to back the truck up to a hill so that it would be easier to get the bike on the truck with just Heather and I doing it. We found the appropriate place, and I climbed in my truck to back it up. I turned the key, and heard nothing but the rattle of a starter that wasn’t going to start. I groaned. Tried it again, and then again. No luck.

I rode 7,500 miles (12,070 kms) on a 94 Dyna Wide Glide with 125,000 miles (206,000 kms) and the only issue I had was a broken speedo drive and a burnt out headlight. First time I climb into my truck, and it wont start. Now, my 2002 Ford F-150 has 186,000 miles (300,000 kms), so it’s hard to complain, but still! I got under the truck and smacked the starter, trying to get it to disengage. No luck.

I called AAA and we went back into the hotel to grab breakfast. About half an hour later, Heather’s neck was hurting (from the accident), so I went out to the truck to grab her a muscle relaxer. I decided to try starting it again, and it fired up! I went in and got her, and we loaded up the bike and headed out.

Since we were only a few miles from Hershey, PA, we decided we needed to go check things out there (and maybe pick up a little chocolate). If you haven’t read the story of Mr. Hershey, you should. It’s pretty amazing. He and his wife never had kids, and so one of the things they did early on was establish an orphanage to help children who may not be able to get an education. When they died, the Hershey’s left the majority of their estate, over $60,000,000 to the school, so that there would always be a place for less fortunate children. He was also cutting edge when it came to encouraging employee creativity. He facilitated an environment where anyone could dream up an idea for the company. Anyway, read up on the guy, he was an amazing leader and businessman.

When we left Hershey, we decided we’d go as far as Syracuse and find a hotel. There is an amazing biker bar in Syracuse called The Dinosaur. We figured it was a great night to enjoy some good food. The problem was, so did the rest of New York. The line outside the bar stretched around the corner, so we went elsewhere.

Now, when Heather and I were married, we decided to travel to the East Coast for our honeymoon. We left her homestead and just started driving, figuring we’d stop somewhere along the highway. We were a little past Watertown, NY when we decided it was best to crash for the night. However, when we pulled in to book a room, we were informed that there was a major event happening in Northern New York, and the chance of us finding a room anywhere between Watertown and Syracuse was slim to none. We ended up finding a “dirt bag” hotel that was the most disgusting, dirty place in New York. Yes, it was that bad.

I share that story for a reason. I also want to point out that during the past twenty five days, almost every night, I simply pulled up to a hotel and got a room. Not once was I told that there wasn’t any rooms available. (Okay, Heather points out that I was given the old head shake ‘no’ at that non-biker hotel in Colorado. The point is, they didn’t turn me down because there was no rooms, they turned me down because they wouldn’t rent for just one night).

Heather and I pull in to a hotel in Syracuse. I go in to book a room, and am told that there is something big happening in Northern New York, and there is no way I’m going to find a room anywhere in Syracuse. Not only that, but they have even received calls from Watertown, because there are no rooms there either!

Yup, it’s pretty clear to me who the “travel jinx” is!

We ended up driving the three hours from Syracuse to Ottawa and arrived home just before 1 AM. I’m glad we did. There truly is no feeling like climbing into your own bed after being on the road for almost a month. Same with jumping in your own shower the next morning. What a feeling!

By the way, it’s a high of 45 F (7 C) today in Ottawa. We have a frost warning in effect for tonight. Today will be the warmest day all week. It’s also the warmest it’s been in a few days around here. Yup, I’m back in Ottawa.

Anyway, I’ll update more early in the week. This is Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada, and I will be enjoying Turkey tonight with some good friends. Tomorrow, I’ll be seeing my sister and her family for some more good food.

Happy Thanksgiving, and thanks for taking this journey with me.

Well, I’m here. Harrisburg, PA. 439 miles (706 kms) today. Heather is meeting me here in Harrisburg, and we’ll be driving home together in the truck tomorrow, my bike in the back.

As I pulled my T-bag off the bike, I smiled. It was a strange feeling knowing that I wont be putting it back on the bike tomorrow.

This has been a great journey. I’m not writing my final thoughts today, because I’ll save those for sometime over the weekend, when I do a couple of “after-the-fact” posts.

Oh, and no rain again today. Unbelievable. When I checked the forecast this morning, they were calling for 90% chance of Thunderstorms here in Harrisburg. Well, all I see is blue sky. It’s all I had all day today.

Actually, I probably wasted about twenty minutes today just stopping and putting on / taking off rain gear. I did it twice. I left the hotel this morning without it on, figuring I’d wait until it was necessary. About two hours into the ride, it looked like I was heading into some stormy weather. So, I pulled over and geared up. Twenty minutes later, I want around a corner and was back in sunny skies. Never got a drop of rain. An hour after that, it was so hot, I had to pull over and take off the rain gear. I was sweating! Two hours later, more dark skies. Another stop to gear up. No rain, and sunny skies a few miles later.

That was the kind of day it was for me. When you think about the kind of weather that much of the U.S. is getting hit with, it’s truly amazing that I only had one hour of rain this entire road trip. Twenty five days, in late September and early October, and no rain. Gotta love it.

Alright, I need to go relax a little before Heath arrives. I’ll be offline for a few days, but will update more later on the weekend.

This is the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend, so Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

At the end of yesterday’s post, I stated that my goal was about nine hours in the saddle today. Well, from the time I pulled out of the restaurant this morning, until when I pulled up to the hotel tonight, it was ten hours. Eleven if you count the time change.

I rode 612 miles (985 kms) today. Wow. I’m tired.

One thing that has been very interesting on this journey is how fortunate I’ve been with the rain. Now, those from Bikers’ Church are probably smiling at that comment. You see, I have a bit of a reputation at home. First, you don’t let me pray for the weather when we are doing a ride, because it seems to always rain. And, if you’re going on a decent ride with me, make sure you bring your rain gear.

So, with that kind of reputation, I find it very ironic that in twenty four days, now over 7,000 miles, I have only had rain for less than one hour of this trip. I think I have broken the rain curse.

If you’ve been following the weather news, you know that there has been some pretty severe rain – and flooding – in many of the areas that I have been riding through. On each of the past three days, the forecast for where I was, and where I was heading toward, included thunder storms. In fact, each day, I packed up the bike and covered my stuff with the rain cover, just because I was sure I would hit rain. And yet, none. Not a drop.

I packed that way this morning. Even though the humidity was so heavy in Jackson, I decided to put on my rain gear. I was hot, sweating just standing still. But, the forecast was for heavy rain, so I decided to start out covered.

I took this picture around 10:30 this morning. This was the kind of “terrible rain” I battled all day today. It was simply gorgeous.

In fact, I got so hot, I pulled over on the side of the Interstate and took off all the rain gear, my jacket, and my sweatshirt, and ended up riding most of the day in a t-shirt. I hadn’t been able to ride without the sweatshirt since Vegas! It was so nice.

Do you ever notice how warm weather is so much more enjoyable to ride in? Of course it is. My mood was up and I simply enjoyed the many miles I put on the bike today. It didn’t start getting cold until the sun began to set.

As I write this, I am in Bristol, Virginia. Tomorrow I will ride straight up the I-81. Heather has the day off, and this weekend is the Canadian Thanksgiving, so she is planning on heading south on the I-81 to meet up with me tomorrow night. I guess it’s pretty cold back home, so she is bringing my truck. It likely means that tomorrow night, I will load the bike on the truck and drive back to Ottawa with her.

What I’m getting at is there is likely just one more day left in this road trip. Wow. I do plan on updating the blog over the weekend with some final thoughts on my journey. As well, I’m going to put together a slideshow of some of the better pictures and post it when I get a chance. I’ll save my “final thoughts” for then.

There are a lot of little thoughts that I would like to share, and hopefully once I’m not so tired, I’ll put them down for those who might be interested.

’nuff for today. Good night.

Ride Across America: Day Twenty Three

It was hard to get moving today. Not because I wasn’t up early. I was. Not because I didn’t have my bike packed and ready to go. I did. I needed to run to a couple of stores before I left town, and that ended up taking most of the morning.

Actually, it wouldn’t have been so bad, except I went on an unexpected tour. You see, I punched in the address to a WalMart into my GPS, and began following the instructions. However, at one point, I needed to turn left, but couldn’t. You see, there was an eighteen wheeler flipped over on it’s side, blocking the entire road. This flatbed was carrying a load of cars, and it looked like he had taken the corner too quickly, and flipped on his side. Not a pretty site.

So, rather than turn left, as my GPS instructed me to do, I was forced to go right as the cop was instructing me to do. At that point, my GPS began to get mad at me, telling me to make a U-turn and go back the way it had instructed me. I tried explaining that the cop wouldn’t let me go that way, but it simply would not listen.

I followed the truck ahead of me, hoping that he knew a way around the mess and back to the road we were supposed to be on. A few minutes later, I was in the middle of a very rough looking neighbourhood. I don’t know if Fort Worth has an inner city, but if it does, I was in it. As I rode through the streets, people walking would stop and stare at me. I know what they were thinking, “Stupid white boy. Gonna get himself in trouble.”

I sat up straight on my Harley and tried to look as big and as tough as I could. I even scowled a little and did my best to make the bike growl at every corner. It might have worked, if I had remember to turn off my GPS. Suddenly, as I was being stared at by a couple of guys standing across the street, my wonderful navigation unit spoke up.

Now, you should know that I have programmed little Stewie from The Family Guy as my GPS’s navigation voice. That’s right, the baby Stewie. When you don’t follow his instructions, he yells, “What the hell are you doing? This is not the way I told you to go. Now, do as I say!”

And, that is precisely what my wonderful GPS yelled at me in that funny accent of Stewie’s just as I was trying to look the meanest that I could. I roared away from the corner, not bothering to look back at the guys who probably decided that this White Boy was simply crazy and not worth the hassle.

I finally got back on track and found the WalMart.

It was close to Noon when I finally pulled out of Fort Worth. I rode a few hundred miles before stopping again. This time, a man walked up to me at a gas station. He was an older gentleman, and wanted to know where I was coming from.

I told him Ottawa, Canada (you see, Canadians have learned not to bother giving the name of our province, since most Americans don’t have a clue what province is where. We simply give our city name, and our Country, knowing that you still wont have a clue where we’re from). As I began to tell him where Ottawa is located, he quickly said, “Oh, I know where Ottawa is. I’ve been there a few times. It’s the capital of the province it’s in.”

I corrected him, explaining that Ottawa is actually the capital of Canada, not the province. He told me that I was wrong, and that it was the province’s capital (he didn’t know the name of the province). I tried once more to tell him that it was actually the Nation’s capital, but realized he wasn’t going to be convinced, so I let it drop.

(Just a little fun push at you Americans. I realize that you’re not going to learn every province’s name, or even the capital city of each province. But, since we are your biggest trading partner, your closest ally, and provide more tourists dollars to you than any other country, would it be a big deal if you could at least learn what the Capital of Canada is? And where Ottawa is located? Just saying. )

Back to the older gentleman. He is quite friendly, like most of the people I’ve spoken with. He tells me the story of a lady he met last year. She was 69, and she was on a SilverWing. She told him that every year she would head out on some sort of road trip on her own. She had gone from Maine to Florida. She had gone from the East Coast to the Mid West. And most of the Eastern States. Every year, she would take a few weeks and ride. The man thought this was so cool for such an older woman. I agreed. Very cool.

I hope I have that much energy when I’m an old woman. Wait a minute. You know what I mean.

The rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. I ended up dong 475 miles (764 kms) today.

Tomorrow is my really long day. If I manage to get as far as I am planning, I will be in the saddle for nine hours