Nine hundred Sixty nine and eight tenths.
I don’t know what sparked my interest in motorcycles, or when, but it seems like ages I have watched in admiration, the life on the road, people who traveled on two wheels.
This past week was the maiden voyage of the Stoke Booster, my newest bike, for a trip through Pa. and up to my hometown of Ithaca Ny from Va.
I woke up early tuesday, packed my gear, including a fullface in case it rained, My camera, and the essentials…
I departed mid morning, on a hot one, I had already sweated through a shirt just getting ready, and let the wind cool me down as I headed north on Interstate 95, towards DC. I lucked out on traffic, and ducked off the interstate in Maryland, getting on route 15, which was a secondary road that went north into Pa.
I misjudged the amount of sun there was and started burning up within an hour, stopped for lunch in Gettysburg, put on some sunblock, stretched, filled up the tank, and noticed my fullface had fallen off the back of my gear. Sweet. Must have looked awesome tumbling down whichever highway it fell off onto.
Following the road through Dillsburg, onto Harrisburg, it was perfect weather, with a clean summer landscape. I was stoked. I got onto rt 78 towards Allentown, and a sign read 65 more miles, I was close to my first destination, Dave Kings house, in center city. The road was bumpy, and as I noticed a sign read “Caution- bump ahead”, I saw the 18 wheeler ahead of me launch its back wheels in the air, probably 2-3 inches, first the rear right wheel, then it’s left. Sketchy! 300 miles of two wheeled therapy, and I was done traveling for the day…
I got to Allentown, where Dave hand been helping his buddy Eric Bugbee work on an independent full production movie. It’s a movie about BMX, loosely, has The original Cru Jones from RAD in it, and was nearing the end of production, i was invited to have a “cameo” in the film as a cop. Under the advisement of my Agent/ Attorney, the hitch-hiking midget hobo, I agreed. Not too often I’ll likely be asked to participate in a movie, So I stayed up all night, on location in downtown Allentown, with a hired staff of Actual Police officers, a film crew, and me dressed as a cop, shooting out of a window of a moving police car.
It was way different than I expected, and I had a blast, including one point at an intersection, with a cameraman in the car, and a camera mounted on the front of the cruiser, me in Police attire, sitting shotgun, I was asked if we were filming for “COPS”… of course I said yes, and a hilarious exchange ensued.
The following morning, after roughly 3.75 hours of sleep, I got on the highway, after breakfast with Dave, and passed through the mountains of Northern Pa. It was much cooler, and required a long sleeve. The scenery on the pa. turnpike towards Scranton was pretty awesome, cliffs, gorges, tunnels, rivers, it was coal country, and it was nice.
I crossed into NY, on 81 north, familiar territory, continuing to Whitney point, then along 79 into Ithaca, My hometown. When I pulled up to my Friends bar, Silky Jones, the odometer read 500 miles, and 6 tenths.
I saw some old friends, played some pool, and spent the evening drinking beers at the Rhine house with Mike Tag, my childhood buddy, who is 3/4′s the way through chemo therapy. It was nice hanging out, plotting our next adventures, after his cancer goes into remission, and bullshitting about this and that.
A few too many with Bones, Toast, another childhood friend Paul, and the next morning came earlier and harder than I was hoping. Coffee, a longsleeve and another 60 miles and I was in Binghamton Ny at FBM HQ, to do some dialing. Joby helped me fab up a sissy bar in-between meetings, and since my plans to meet up with the crew in Pa. had changed, and a storm was passing through, I decided to get back on the highway, at about 7pm, getting almost 2 hours of mountain highway daylight in before it got dark, cold, and wouldn’t you know it, rainy as all get out.
I was hoping to beat the rain, by leaving sooner than planned, but It got me, in the darkest, most windy mountain parts of interstate 81, just south of Minersville. It seemed like a cloud had dropped itself on the mountain, and opened up its insides everywhere.
Luckily my rain plan was also additionally fucked by the fact that I had already lost my fullface, so in the dark, with limited visibility, wet eyeglasses, and stiff arms, I putted along, hoping for a suitable exit, another 10 or 20 miles, getting blasted by full speed semi trucks, and I felt super unsure. I got off the highway, got a shitty room, got some sleep, and tried to dry my life off.
I woke up pretty early, force fed myself some coffee, put on my wet clothes and shoes, and jumped back on the interstate. I was about 50 miles north of Harrisburg, I had hoped I was closer, it was cool, sorta foggy, and pleasant.
I jumped on 83, swept around Harrisburg, over the Susquehanna and I was back on 15, heading south through Gettysburg, Emmitsburg, Catoctin Furnace, through Frederick, and right in the belly of the beast, the capitol beltway in the DC area. Traveling that stretch is a real shit show, roads under construction, lane shifts, bad drivers on cell phones, asshole drivers not paying attention, and a generally crowded motorway filled with morons.
By the time I hit DC, the coolness of the Pennsylvania morning had traded itself in for 100 plus degree blazing sun, on parking lot 95 which was stop an go traffic for 80 miles give or take. By now my clothes had dried, my skin cooked, and my patience had worn thin.
Humid east coast summer heat feels different on a crowded slow paced highway, on a motorbike while wearing a helmet. The radiating sun off the blacktop, the exhaust, and the frustration create a whole new type of heat index, and when I got lightheaded, I pulled over. I was dehydrated, sweating profusely, felt nauseous, wobbly, and less stoked.
I ate an apple, drank a quart of water, and chilled for a bit. Back at it. The last stretch of road was crowded, and it felt like a hair dryer blowing in my face when i was able to get out of third gear… But I made the distance, and got home with 969 miles and eight tenths on the odometer.
3.5 days, 969 miles, a solo mission, returned with a clear head, and dirty clothes… A warm up.
