6/23/14 Crossing

We woke up to a weather report that featured yellow and red Doppler. There was a path through the middle, so we headed in that direction. Out the door and onto 74. Not as frantic a highway as most, I actually enjoyed inspecting the giant tractor trailers as we sped by, tiny in their shadows. Hauling goods from hogs to Hondas, their draft whipped us around and earned our respect.

Before Peoria, we hooked off onto 474 which took us off the beaten track and onto 116, a farmland panorama.  The panorama also included moments of dark clouds, hanging out in the wings, threatening our beautiful day. 

The magic of the Mississippi thrills me every time we cross. As route 34 took us over into Burlington, Iowa, to me, barges became river boats and flotsam and jetsam were river pirates' rafts. There is a mystery to this mighty waterway and literary history has proven that I am not alone in my awe.

Rising waters from incessant rains have caused the river to rise steadily. Flash flood warnings flared as we calmly ate our picnic on the banks of the Big Muddy, watching entire trees sail by. An hour later and we would have had very wet feet!

Iowa was a virgin to us, so we took her gently. The Heartland personified, we cruised through forest, hills and farmlands, the songs of a million cicadas following us along the road. Immaculate farms were framed by dirty skies, as weather roiled around us. Our second picnic by a silent lake in a Red Haw State Park capped the day. 

Bedding in Osceola tonight! Trains streak by our window. The lifeblood of our nation flows on the rails and highways we have encountered today.  To run along these paths is an honor.

The Big Muddy

H

Flood stage

A tree floats by our picnic!

A Mississippi tow boat

Iowa gave us this!

6/22/14 Road Work

Crossing through Tornado Alley with some very unsettled weather became a game of chance. 

We left Hebron, Ohio after a visit to a giant basket that is the corporate headquarters for Longaberger, which according to the locals, has fallen on hard times. Hard times or not, that basket is huge and presented a very bizarre photo op!

We took some smaller roads west, passing Bob Evans headquarters - down on the farm, of course. Then back onto 70 to run ahead of the rain. Lunch was a rest stop picnic in Indiana. The day was heating up and so were we. At Indianapolis, we turned northwest onto route 74. Racing into Illinois, we set our sights on Champaign. The Drury Hotel is our stop for the night and one of our favorites. Friendly staff and a complimentary Happy Hour make this chain the best. 

Huge storms are popping up all around us now. To the south, tornado warnings are being posted. We're in for some heavy weather tonight, but are safe and dry in our lovely hotel. Today we rode hard, but it was all good! The things that made me happiest were seeing a cool old dude in a cool old car, staying dry all day and that giant basket!

6/21/14 Rascal Meets the Rain

A sunrise at 5 that only a solstice can manage brought us onto Parvins Mill Road. A southerly front pushed us north as we crossed the Commodore Barry into the West. For hours we rode the edge of the front - dark clouds to the south, blue sky north. Teasing us, the weather pulled us under an overpass to finally submit to rain suits. Heavy rain forced us to commit to a rest stop in mid Pennsylvania. 

The goddess of rest stops (Ms. Starbucks) warmed and relaxed us. Soon, other bikers dribbled in to escape the weather. Together we reminisced about our worst encounters with Mother Nature and how proud we were to have survived to tell the story. Most of the riders were on long distance trips. We are not alone in our passion and every year there are more seasoned travelers with their own stories.

A break in the rain shot us out the door and back on the PA Turnpike. Tired of tolls, we headed onto route 70 into West Virginia and a real rest stop with tables for our first picnic. The sounds of idling tractor trailers was soften by a great Amarone we brought to kick off our journey.

 For the rest of the day, clouds ripe with rain hovered over but never opened. We rode dry into Ohio and began to feel the effects of 12 hours in the saddle. Just outside of Buckeye Lake we turned into our hotel. Recommendations for a " happenin' place" down the road landed us at the crossroads of route 40 and 13. A bikers "paradise", riders circle the 12 mile lake trying to hit every bar in one day.  There we sat dining "al fresco", watching every form of vehicle ever made, gun their engines as they rode through the intersection over and over again. I have heard that winters are harsh in Ohio! 

Tomorrow .....well who knows. It will be another adventure for sure.

The longest day begins!

Parvins Mill sunrise

Commodore Barry

Shelter!

The Goddess of rest stops!

Ohio!

Home for the night - Hmmm.

The First Day

Again I wait, the joy of an unknown  tomorrow filling me with excitement almost too much to bear. Direction, destination and duration an uncertainty, we set out on Rascal, our new ride named for her dragon flames, at first light of the Solstice, for what will certainly be a long ride in the sun. Goodbyes have been said and bags have been packed and now, how can I sleep? Dreams of America - back roads, small towns, mountains and more will surely see me through the night.