Day 28 - October 29 - Bethesda, MD to Cherry Hill, NJ - 143 miles

It seems that this whole adventure is about to end. I'm now in Cherry Hill, NJ. Candidly, the crosswinds I encountered on the road today made this day one of the most difficult of the trip. The semi-trailers on I-95 were so troubled by the winds, that most were in the Northbound right-hand travel lane, being blown occasionally into the breakdown lane. Recalling the drama of winds on the Delaware Memorial Bridge from Day 2, I avoided that route, went through Philadelphia, across the Betsy Ross Bridge, and into New Jersey.

Soon I was with our daughter Meredith, her partner Meghan, and grandson Noah. We're to have a  big birthday party on Saturday the 30th where Noah (age 3 on 10/28), and I (age 66 on 10/24) will be honored.  Of course, Noah is costume-fixated these days. Here's a shot of him with some interesting makeup on:

A couple of days here in Cherry Hill, and then on Monday, 11/1, the last leg of the trip...about 330 miles back to Brookline.

Day 27 - October 28 - Wake Forest, NC to Bethesda, MD - 270 miles

I was up early this morning, and had a very fine pre-ride breakfast with Dan and Rita. Everyone gave me the advice to get into Bethesda, and off the roads around Washington, DC before 2PM when the traffic starts to build.

I followed orders, riding along parts of US Route 1, Interstates 85 and 95, and finally 495. Not much traffic on 1 and 85, but a lot on 95. Those readers who ride motorcycles know that being around big semi-trailer trucks almost anywhere can be dangerous. Generally, the idea is to stay far enough behind them (at least 200 feet). The idea is that at that distance the driver would probably be able to see a motorcycle rider in his rear-view mirrors. Also, the air turbulence associated with the big rigs, while still present, is minimized. I addition, I tend to want to get past them to minimize my exposure to the turbulence, but also to minimize any possibility of  my being exposed to tires coming apart, as they're prone to do. On this trip, I have found most drivers of interstate trucks to drive very predictably, and reasonably.

My only real moment of drama (other than when I crossed the Delaware Memorial Bridge on Day 2), was when a driver of a Mercury Sable just north of Richmond, VA on I-95 zoomed past me on the right, then immediately, decided to occupy the space I had in my lane. Hard braking and a loud horn kept us out of contact, and sent her back into her lane. Whew.

Soon I was in Bethesda, spending time with Beth's niece Alissa Thornton, her daughter Elena, and her husband Matt Thornton. We have a very fine dinner at Guapo's Tex-Mex restaurant, which I can highly recommend if you're in the area.

Days 25 & 26 - October 26 & 27 - Greenville, SC to Wake Forest, NC - 270 miles...and then at Wake Forest

The trip up from Greenvile, SC to Wake Forest, NC was OK. Lots of clouds, and it looked like it could rain at any moment all the way. Finally, I arrived after mostly-Interstate travel.

My hostess was Beth's cousin Jane Trescott, and her two boys, Ethan and Jared. Jared was really interested in my BMW, and so I put it up on the center stand, and let him and his neighborhood friends try it out. Sadly, I did not get any photos of this, but Jane did, so perhaps I'll be able to integrate some into the blog later.

I spent much of the these two days visiting with Jane, her friends on Hidden Jewel Lane, and Beth's Uncle Dan and Aunt Rita. I did give Jared a ride around the neighborhood, which he seemed to like a lot.

Next stop...Bethesda, MD and more family.

Days 23 & 24 - October 24 & 25- At Greenville, SC

   I had an appointment with some folks on Monday October 25 at the BMW Car Club of America, which has its headquarters in Greenville, SC. Overnight, a front came through, the skies opened, and it was clear to me that I wasn't going to Downtown Greenville with that much rain falling. Dwayne Mosely (a fellow BMW CCA ombudsman) picked me up in his very nice M3, and we had a very fine meeting at the BMW CCA.

I had planned to head for Wake Forest, NC after the meeting, but the rain deterred me. I asked the hotel to put up with me for another night, and of course, they did.  Then, just about one PM, the rain stopped, the sun came out, and the sky was blue. Ah well.

For those who don't know, BMW has a major automobile-production plant just outside of Greenville. The company produces X5, X6 SAVs and is just adding X3 vehicles (formerly made in Europe) to those produced there. I went out to see if I could get a plant tour, but was out of luck because of the introduction of the new X3 to dealers and the motoring press. The BMW Zentrum Museum was open, and I made a couple of photos of that place:

All in all, just an OK place. Probably the plant tour would be a pretty good thing to see...but the museum...a little lame.

Next...on to Wake Forest.

Day 22 - October 23 - Bremen, GA to Greenville, SC - 220 miles

 My luck with good weather continued. I was mostly on Interstates this day, and left to get some water to drink. I stopped at a little place in Gerogia near an exit which catered mostly to truckers. The shop consisted of about 50% devoted to snacks, etc. and another 50% devoted to items which a trucker could put on his rig to shine it up a bit. Lots of chrome and reflectors.

   I had a pleasant chat with a Harley-riding fellow by the name of Terry Gibbs. Seems Terry decided to take the afternoon off and meet some fellow riders so that they could tool around for a few hours. We discussed bikes and different philosophies regarding protective gear. He was riding a very nice 2002 while Ultra-Glide. Seems his wife is not really interested in riding on the very nice passenger seat for more than about ten miles, thus he spends most of his time solo. He's been in the business of supplying wheels to the manufacturers of small trailers in the South, and has been doing this for 27 years. He said business was good.

   We discussed route to take to get to Greenville, SC, which was my goal for the day. He suggested that I stay on the Interstate for a bit, then go down through a town named Livonia, then head over to Hartwell to see the dam and the lake there. I thanked, him, mounted up and was off.

     Candidly, Livonia was a nice little town, but the most interesting thing to me was a small lot near the center of town which was filled with old cars and trucks, many in OK shape, and apparently available for sale. Here's a couple of photos I made while sitting on the bike:

  

A very odd little collection...

Anyway, I was soon in Hartwell (near the dam) which is a very pretty little town. Here's a shot of the downtown area:

  

I drove a few more miles, and came to the dam. I'm a sucker for civil engineering, so I wanted to see this place. Created by the US Army Corps of Engineers, it's a dam to aid in flood control, but also, it will produce hydropower. It controls the flow of the Savannah River, covers an area of 56,000 acres and has 962 miles of shoreline. Here's what it looked like on this day when I stopped by. Did not seem to be much hydropower production underway, alas:

A lot of people seem to use the dam, and the lake as a spot for fishing. Here are a couple of shots (made from the South Carolina side), of that kind of activity...as well as some boating on Hartwell Lake:

I spoke with the man and wife in the last photo who told me that they mostly catch bass, and bream at this location. I counted about ten people making the long walk to the dam along this walk where they'll go fishing.

     Then, I was back on the bike, and soon was in Greenville, SC.

Day 21 - October 22 - Hamilton, AL to Bremen, GA - 214 miles

     I was out of the Key West Inn in Hamilton pretty early. Breakfast at the Huddle House next door left me caffeine-deprived. My short-term goal for the day was the "Barber Vintage Motorsports Museum" in Birmingham (actually Leeds), Alabama.

    Now some readers may know that I put a lot of trust in Garmin and Google Maps to get me to various places, tell me distances, etc., etc. My experience is that generally, I can put "Starbucks" into either my bike-mounted Garmin StreetPilot 2820 or my BlackBerry Bold and get a reasonably-accurate result. Hard to believe, I know, but both sent me to a street corner in Birmingham, Alabama, behind the Social Security Administration building there. If this blog were destined for a more youthful audience, I'd spell out what I was saying, but you know: "WTF??"

   I gave up, went across Birmingham, and stopped at a McDonald's where everyone seemed to be angry, and the manager was reading out a list of failures of the staff while customers waited: "DJ - Your score is 30...what happened?...Jimmy, you got a 49...why'd you go down?..." Woh. Coffee was OK. Sun was out. It was a very nice day outside that place and soon I was too.

    On to Leeds, and the Barber Museum. Candidly, I had never heard of this place until Roy Bertolotto told me about it. Roy's the President of Yankee Beemers (my motorcycle club). The satirical motto of the club is: "Ride to Eat...Eat to Ride." Anyway, long before I started this trek, I asked for advice from Roy. He told me that I should not miss the Barber Museum in Birmingham, AL.

    Finally, about seven months after I heard about it, and I was there:

Fail me for my lust to see gorgeous motorcycles, but I can't tell you how this place came into existence, nor who financed it but there are motorcycles here such as you've never seen before:

Five floors of them...old to new, simple to exotic, pristine condition, achingly beautiful. Here are just a few of the 750 (!) motorcycles on display (and 700+ are in storage, rotating into and out of the collection):

(I'm a former Navy guy, but where did the Navy expect to use this nice machine?) 

I love digital photography. I made about 100 photos here of things I thought were interesting (I'm breathing hard as I write this). I could have made many more. Time to calm down.

    When I arrived at the Barber Museum, I saw that there was a circle outside where visitors' motorcycles were parked. I spoke with Dan Smothers who is a member of the security staff and a former deputy sheriff. I asked if my bike would be OK there with my luggage, etc. left on it. Dan (who is about 2 inches taller than me) said: " I don't think it will be a problem. We've never had a theft from a motorcycle here, and won't." Serious guy. He also told me there was a gear room inside for my helmet, gloves and tank bag. Very, very nice, and motorcycle-friendly.

     Here's the circle outside the museum:

Of course, I parked next to another BMW RT (albeit a 2010 model) from Missouri. Note the parking signs between the two bikes.

   As I made it through the collection ("Start at the top and work your way down") I ran into Dan again. He said that the museum might be expanding, so that more of the motorcycles (and Lotus cars...the largest collection in the world) might be displayed. Stupid me didn't take a photo, but there is a road course for cars and motorcycles which is on the property in which 20 identical Porsches were taking driving instruction as I watched.

    I learned also that next Fall (2011) there will be a BMW rally at the Barber location. Start making plans now, you Beemerfolks!

    Now the scary part (but only briefly scary). I'd left Leeds, and was headed East at 72mph. As the shadows grew longer, I suddenly felt the need to get my sunglasses off, and the clear glasses on. I got off the Interstate, stopped, made the switch, and got back on. Within 30 seconds I was involved in a major slowdown, and in short order was stopped completely on the road. For 30 minutes I and a whole bunch of other people waited while multiple ambulances arrived at a crash scene 50 yards in front of us (but they didn't leave right away-a clue as we used to say), fire trucks arrived, Alabama State Troopers arrived. Finally, our side was let through. Bad stuff for sure.  I was now into the hours of near-darkness, a time when motorcyclists know that deer are can be on the road. Choosing speed over caution, I zoomed (don't ask me how fast) the 19 miles to Bremen, GA to stop for the night.

  
    

Days 19 & 20 - October 20-21 - Oklahoma City, OK to Hamilton, Alabama - 630 miles

    Well, I decided that I would attempt to make some time heading back across Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Tennessee into Alabama. I was crossing places I had generally seen earlier, and decided to head in a more southerly direction so that I could get to a museum I wanted to see near Birmingham, Alabama.

   Anyway, almost all of this riding was done on superslabs, that is, Interstate highways. For those who don't know, my BMW has a very fine electronic cruise control which is easy to set, very accurate, and makes life a lot easier for me. Nonetheless, each day was long, hot and tiring.

   I tend to have to get off to loosen up, stretch, drink water, and buy gasoline at various intervals. Because of the luggage on the seat and rack behind me, in order to get back on, I have to throw my right leg across the seat, and do a sort-of dance just to get settled into the seat for riding. It must be quite a sight to see me do this. At some gas stations, there's usually a raised curb around the pumps, and I've found that this raised curb makes the process a lot easier and less painful (I have bursitis in my right hip).

   One of my readers of this blog expressed interest in my culinary experiences, so I do have to tell you about what I think is a small restaurant chain called "Huddle House." Perhaps these places are well known, but I'd never seen one before.  I saw the Huddle House next to my motel (the Key West Inn) in Hamilton, Alabama.  Before I get to the Huddle House description, I should tell you that I once again found what might have been a nice old town, filled with little shops, but not filled with people or viable businesses. In Hamilton, there are even a couple of failed small shopping malls not far from the old downtown, but just one mile further on, a large, and bustling "Wal-Mart Supercenter." Ah well.

   Back to the Huddle House. This place clearly has a formula that works: wholesome food (maybe a little too much fat content), menu with a bunch of items, but nothing one would call "fine dining," open kitchen, open 24/7 and good prices. In my case, it was about 60 feet from the Key West Inn, thus I didn't have to suit up, and mount up to ride somewhere for dinner. Yes!

   It seems that a Huddle House diner can order any item on the menu any time of the day or night. I figured I'd worry about breakfast in the AM and went for the rib-eye steak with shrimp combination, salad and veggies. It was the most expensive item on the menu: $11.39. No Pinot Noir here, for sure.  Anyway, it was all mighty good...the salad cold and crisp, the shrimp crisp, and the rib-eye steak very tender. Vegetables...well, just OK. Very pleasant service and food prep. people (everyone seems to do some cooking here, including the waitresses).  Anyway, a good place for dinner.

  Next morning, up bright and surly. The Key West Inn guy had told me they'd serve breakfast in the morning. Right. Weak coffee...plastic wrapped donuts. That's it. Back to the Huddle House: Veggie omelet with cheese, OK coffee, wonderful hashbrowns and wheat toast. $5.39. Nice!

   On the road to Birmingham, and the Barber Vintage Motorsports Museum...

Day 18 - October 19 - Canyon, TX to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma - 274 miles

     I had to return to Oklahoma City as I headed east, because the BMW was due for an oil change. Since I wanted to keep this fine machine running well, I scheduled an appointment for Day 19 (October 20) in the morning so that I could get the work done, then push on in an easterly direction.

    I arrived in Oklahoma City in mid-afternoon, and stopped by the shop to see about possibly getting it done early. Turns out they were overloaded with work, so I went on to my hotel. I do have to tell you that if you ever have a chance to stay in any of the Cambria Suites hotels, go for it! My lovely and talented wife Beth made me a convert to "Trip Advisor" years ago, so I always look there first when heading for a new town. 

    Anyway, Cambria Suites in Oklahoma City came out on top. I didn't know what to expect, but I got a suite which probably had about 500 square feet of space in it. Beautifully furnished, quiet, and good Internet service (via Ethernet cable or WiFi). Price was: $82/night. Wow! Having sampled a whole range of cheaper hotels on this trip, I could write an article about bad breakfasts, weak coffee, useless and slow "high-speed" Internet connections, and bad pillows. The Cambria Suites had none of these, and breakfast was not even offered, which was fine with me. It was a stellar place indeed. 

   One thing I haven't really mentioned about this trip is the burden I'm carrying on my BMW. Besides me (of course), I have two pieces of side luggage filled with a couple of emergency mechanical items, camera, notebooks, & rain clothing. Behind me on the rear seat and luggage rack rides another piece of luggage in which I carry my clothing, computer, and other stuff. Once it's all together, the weight is pretty significant: 1) Bike: 600#, 2) John: 220#, 3) Luggage et al: ~70#. Total: Almost 900#. The bike is stable at almost any speed above about 5 mph, but below that feels a little top heavy. Once I unload the top luggage and some of the stuff in the side bags, it feels almost nimble, by contrast. 

   I unloaded a bunch of stuff at the Cambria Suites, and then took local streets about six miles into downtown Oklahoma City. As with many of the places in which I've been in Oklahoma, things didn't seem bright and cheerful and bustling. I never know if this means anything, since I don't see everything.

     My real purpose in heading downtown was to see the memorial at the site of the former Murrah Federal Building which was bombed by Timothy McVeigh, and Terry Nichols on April 19, 1995. All will remember that the bombing killed 168 people including 19 children. I have since learned that the damage to the building and surrounding area totaled $652 million dollars.

   The memorial is generally pretty simple in design, and has series of chairs each inscribed with the name of a victim. Large chairs represent an adult, and each small one, a child. Here are some photos of the memorial I made that day: 

There are two large panels at each end of the memorial through which one enters the area near the reflecting pool. One of these (above) has the number "9:01" which represents the time before the bombing.  The other has the number "9:03" which was the time the bomb detonated.

The chairs representing the dead victims (there were hundreds injured) are placed in the location of the destroyed building, and the physical placement of each chair represents on which of the nine floors of the building the victim was when he or she died.

Some may remember that a fence was placed around the site of the bombing early on. Parts of that fence have been retained as part of the memorial, and new additions of personal memories are added constantly to it. Here are some photos of the fence:  

     Well, it's a moving experience to go to the memorial, and think about the motivations of those who caused the death and destruction. There is a very complete Wikipedia piece about the event and the investigation here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oklahoma_City_bombing   I talked with a guard there just before I left, and he told me he was living about 20 miles from Oklahoma City at the time of the bombing, and clearly remembers feeling the ground shake when he was in school that day. 

    I rode back to the hotel thinking about those 19 children...

    After a couple of hours of reflection, I decided that it was time for dinner. Since I was going to leave intense beef country, I decided a steak for dinner was the thing to have. I went to a nearby restaurant aimed at carnivores, and had a mighty fine piece of beef. Expensive tenderloin, with sweet potato fries, and a very fine salad, and broccoli (yes Beth, I'm eating my veggies!), accompanied by a just-passable glass of Pinor Noir. 

Days 16 & 17 - October 17 and 18 - At Canyon, TX

     It was a bright and sunny Sunday morning in Canyon, so I decided that I really needed to see the Palo Duro Canyon, which is sometimes called the "Grand Canyon of Texas." While not as deep as the Arizona version, it's pretty long, with a lot of variation in color and vegetation. It was a pretty interesting place.

     The canyon itself is about 120 miles long, and the state park which is 12 miles south of Canyon, Texas has a road which winds through just a small part of the place. The depth is said to vary between about 800 feet and 1,000 feet. Georgia O'Keefe lived for a time in Canyon and Amarillo, Texas, and spent a lot of time painting there. Here are some photos I made at various stops as I rode through the canyon: 

  Pretty neat, huh? 

   At one point, I spotted a group of people sitting in front of easels making paintings of a particular place there. As I rode my bike into the little parking area nearby,  I saw two guys staring at me, smiling to themselves, and seemingly involved in a muttered conversation. After I dismounted, took off my helmet, and took out my earplugs, I engaged them in conversation. Turns out that they were a couple of fellows from Germany who'd flown to Chicago, rented a 2010 Mercury Marquis, and were driving the Historic Route 66 all the way to Los Angeles. One of these fellows spoke pretty good English (it's been 48 years since my last German lesson with Frau Donovan at Mount Hermon). He said they were pleased to see a German motorcycle, and said they saw very few on their trip. I asked them how they liked the Mercury, and was told, "It's certainly not a German car!" My new pal said that the steering was imprecise, and it "rides like a boat on the sea." He said he drives an Audi back in Germany, but found he couldn't rent one in the US for this trip for a decent price. I bid them "Aufwiedersehen!" and thought I'd see what was up with the painters.

    I spoke with Marsha Lair (phonetic spelling), and seen sitting in this photo:

   From her I learned that there is a very large and active community of artists in the area. There are all kinds of activities underway all the time in the Canyon and Amarillo areas. What was going this day was  a workshop led by an artist from Taos, NM (I didn't get his name), who was working with these artists as they made paintings of the landscape in the canyon. I think the Taos fellow is wearing the blue jeans in the above photo. 

   Here's another shot of the area and the artists:

Here's a shot of the area which Marsha was painting:

   In our conversation, Marsha told me she had a daughter who had attended school in Vermont, and that she and a friend had flown to Vermont when her daughter had finished college, and had driven back down to Canyon. We talked some about the differences between Texas and New England. Nice lady, imbued with that spirit of friendliness and engagement which seemed to affect everybody I spoke with in the Texas Panhandle. 

    Anyway, soon I was back on the bike, and was up on the fun road out of the canyon. Just before I left the park, I spotted a real Texas Longhorn bull, behind a a fence near the entrance to the park. When I spotted him, he was lying down in the grass. Almost on cue, as soon as I pulled out my camera to take a shot, he got up and looked right at me:

He looked a little thin to me, but what do I know about cattle?

Anyway, I headed back to Canyon, and came upon an intersection of two roads...one state highway and one so-called "Texas Farm Road." I stood in the middle of the intersection and made a couple of shots (180-degrees apart), which might help you understand the vast size of this land...with roads seeming to stretch to infinity:

I guess the parallel lines in the pavement and the power lines emphasize that a bit. A big place with lots and lots of interesting things to see. The Texas Panhandle is no empty place, for sure.

     Anyway, on to Day 17, Monday in Canyon. I had a couple of very important things planned for this day. First, I was to be interviewed by James Barrington of the Canyon News who wanted to publish a story about my journey, and second, I was to finally meet, after seven years, Karin Heyman...the person who had helped me learn about my father and who really provided the impetus for this quest of mine. 

     I had a very nice chat with James, who is a native of the area, and returned to Canyon a few years ago after working for years in government management in New Hampshire. I showed him my documents regarding Oscar, and talked with him about why I was doing all this. 

    A little later, I went over to West Texas A&M University (formerly known as West Texas State Teachers College when my father attended). There I finally met and talked with Karin, seen here in a photo made by James Barrington as she showed me references to Oscar Gamel in a book on the history of WTAMU:

Karin is retired from the WTAMU registrar's office, and even sent me two photos she found of what downtown Perryton, Texas looked like in the 1920s:

   

   Thanks to Karin for all she's done!

   Finally, my last part of my visit to Canyon was with Kent Johnson, who is the Sports Information Director for WTAMU. Kent rides a Honda sport-touring motorcycle, and had heard about my trip. I stopped by his office, and we talked about the economics of college sports.  Seems WTAMU, which everyone calls "WT" is in Division 2. Kent explained how football and other sports are financed. He even pulled out a listing of past lettermen for WT, and sure enough, Oscar Gamel of Perryton was there, lettering three times in football back in the 1920s. Kent did not have a listing for track and basketball which went back that far, but I think he lettered in those also. We also discussed motorcycling, and how it's different in Texas than back East. Another very pleasant fellow, for sure.

   Next...three days of riding the slab for a total of about 900 miles. Oof!