Yesterday was one of those days that was perfect for motorcycling. Clear blue skies, a slight crispness to the air, light traffic and beautiful scenery. I started out around noon, leaving our apartment and heading north to the Tappan Zee Bridge. The suburban sprawl of NYC gradually thinned out as I hit I-80 and made my way across New Jersey.
After a short stop for Taco Bell (the official sponsors of road trips everywhere) I crossed into Pennsylvania through the Delaware Water Gap, a smaller scale version of the Grand Canyon, where thousands of years of quiet erosion by the Delaware River formed some fairly impressive wooded canyons. From the Water Gap, the interstate climbed gently rolling hills, until my arrival in Pennsylvania’s farm country was announced with the strong and semi-sweet smell of horse manure as I crested a final hill.
I managed to rendezvous with my buddy Steve about 10 minutes after arriving at Bald Eagle State Park, a logistical miracle considering I was leaving from NY, and he was leaving from Maryland, and our plan consisted of “leave whenever on Friday, and here’s the address of the park.” We chose a campsite, pitched our tent, and then proceeded to more pressing matters: acquiring hot dogs and beer.
Camping wouldn’t quite be camping without some dogs cooked over an open fire, and beer of course provides a healthy and delicious source of vitamin R. We mounted our trusty steeds, and rode into the Mecca of any rural town: Wal Mart. This area has one of those Ultra-Super-Amazing Wal Marts, and the place must have covered 5 square miles. Food, cookware, clothes and shotguns were all available under the gleaming florescent lights, and despite the risk of being run over by a shopping cart or “large” person in an electronic scooter, we managed to acquire all the necessary eats.
On the way home we stopped into a honky tonk bar to get beer. PA has strange liquor laws that necessitate purchasing reasonable quantities of beer (i.e. 6-packs) must be done at a bar. This particular joint was filled with local folks, and the sweet sounds of “Funky Cold Medina” were playing over the jukebox, causing Steve and I to wonder if we should stay and sample some local flavor. Good judgement got the better of us, as we were still 10 miles away from our home for the night, and it looked like quite a bit of “social lubrication” would be required to hang out with these folks, so we took our sixers to go.
Fall has definitely arrived, and we spent the night huddled close to the fire, trading stories and chowing on hot dogs. It’s a foggy and cold morning as I write this, and I’m eagerly awaiting the forecasted arrival of the sun to dry the tent and motorcycle seats, so we can avoid the joys of, shall we say, “extremity dampness.”
The plan for today is to ride north to the Allegheny Mountains, along some supposedly scenic rural roads. I have yet to hear any rumbling from the tent, so it looks like Steve still needs some beauty rest before we endeavor to break camp.
Stay tuned, and keep warm!