Bessie and Me: Shifting Gears

Long ago I learned to embrace my capabilities and honor my limitations especially as it pertains to two wheels. After clicking off the last four states and crossing into Washington, I should of felt euphoric. I cried instead. Right there on the bluff overlooking the Columbia River, I sobbed.  I earned a few more items on my 'capabilities' checklist during this journey. Pretty much nothing I cannot do on two wheels. I also have a logical ending for my book, which has given me a tremendous sense of relief as a writer. I can now get busy and put it all together; most good writers know where the end of their book will be before they began, I didn't have that awareness until today.  I also hit a wall with my limitations; the trip has been long, it has been arduous in the timeframe I established. It has been more like a full time job than a destination cruise. I have missed my wingman; when you finally find that life partner, it is difficult to go back to solo. I literally turned

Last nights hotel in Rapd City was the pitts, I wasn't sorry to pack the bike and leave earlier than usual this morning. I stopped off in Sturgis; it's a quiet little town without a Bazillion bikers. Too early to buy a T-shirt so I headed west; I would hit the northwest corner of Wyoming today, then on into Montana. The Black Hills were on fire outside of Gillette; smoke everywhere. I had filled up in Sturgis, and knew I had plenty of gas to get to Sheridan...at least I thought I did. It's fairly remote along 90, services are few and far between. I wanted to get a picture of the Big Horn Mountains in the distance, so I exited at a spot where they were working on the bridge/exit area. What I didn't realize was there was no way to get back on the exit going west, only east. So now I'm headed back to where I came from with very little gas. Not happy. And I had to pee; I decided I would risk stopping at the remote looking rest stop that services both sides of the Inters

Unfortunately I was not able to stick around in St Jospeh MO and tour the Psychiatric Museum; another time perhaps. I had planned to be in Rapid City Sunday night, but I was still four hours behind as a result of my need for repairs Saturday.  The ride north to Sioux Falls felt interminable; I needed to feel like my goal was in sight. After I stopped for lunch I realized I had lost my drivers license somewhere! I always travel with my passport, and my two pieces of plastic have my photo on them...it could always be worse. I would deal with it when I settled for the evening. I rounded Sioux Falls, lots of construction on the roads, but after the 80mph speed limit from St City to Sioux Falls, the 55mph was a respite. Once I hit 90 west, I felt as though I was finally 'on my way' in spite of the fact I had been traveling for five days!  If anyone thinks it is too crowded with humans where they live, they just need to visit the Great Plains states. So many wide open spaces that str

Leaving Greenville, MS was fairly uneventful yesterday; it was a hot, humid ride across the fertile Mississippi Delta to Arkansas. I think the highlight was the huge bridge across the Mighty Mississippi River, Bessie and I love bridges! A little sad to leave the Delta, it is a spiritual place for any blues lover. 'The blues is the root, everything else is the fruit,' Willie Dixon. The history of music fascinates me. The blues is rooted in our very history, it is truly the only American music, originating from slaves working the fields, passing the arduous existence with field hollers and work songs. Eventually W.C. Handy added the 12 bar guitar chord and the blues were born in the Delta. This being my second trip to the Delta, I'm guessing there will be a few more...maybe Fall or Winter next time! The Summer is insufferable; if I were forced to toil in those fields in that heat and humidity against my will, the over-seerer would just have to shoot me because I wouldn't

On March 7, 1965 I was 10 years old. I remember watching the evening news with my grandparents; violent images of white people inflicting brutal harm to peaceful black Civil Rights activists fighting for voting rights. My Grandma put her hands to her face and exclaimed, 'It's awful, just awful.' In hindsight, I believe that moment shaped my immature sense of social justice. The event would be known as 'Bloody Sunday,' and it took place on the Edmund Pettus bridge as the marchers - Dr King leading them- tried to cross the bridge on a march to Montgomery Alabama, the State Capitol. Today Bessie and Me rode the route from Montgomery to Selma, a National Historic byway, and stopped at the bridge in Selma. Rural Mississippi is lush and fecund, with small towns seemingly trapped in the 1950's. Especially Selma; many buildings abandoned, Windows bordered up. The storefronts seem to struggle. A Rexall Drug, Tulips-a shop selling church clothes ( literally), and the old

As always, my day started with the usual mental masturbation I experience before a road trip. Missing my Wingman on this trip and that has generated some anxiety. I keep my goal in mind - hitting those three western states- hug my Fur Babies and fire Bessie up at 6am to head out. It's barely daylight, my favorite time of morning to leave. I'm always amazed that it takes hours to leave the state of Florida from where I live. I road 19N and with the exception of the Spring Hill area (Weeki Wachi Tourist Trap), Bessie and I had the road pretty much to ourselves. The highway is dotted with small towns that amount to nothing more than an intersection warranting a caution light. The route is littered with broken down Mom and Pop motels. Remnants from a era long gone. And era of slower, leisurely travel, robbed by the Interstate. Weather was perfect, sure it's hot but it's the South...where we WEAR the weather! I stopped in Perry for a spectacularly plain breakfast at a Huddle

North Shore of Lake Superior, Ontario Canada ‘Old longings nomadic leap, Chafing at custom’s chain; Again from its brumal sleep Wakens the ferine strain.’ ~ The Call of the Wild, Jack London In January of 2008 when I bought my first bike, I sat down and made a list of all the places I wanted to visit on two wheels, my ‘ Bikeit List.’ Most of these destinations I had visited before through other modes of transportation, but I vowed to discover and rediscover astride Bessie. My ultimate goal was to ride my motorcycle in all 48 states in the Continental U.S., plus Hawaii and Alaska. Today I embark on the next leg of my journey that will take me to the last three states – Idaho, Montana, and Washington – so I can check that goal off my ‘ Bikeit List.’ I will also check off Alaska on this trip, as Paul – my Wingman – will join me in Seattle for a two -week trip through Alaska that includes a ride along Turnagain Arm and Kanai Fjords National Park on two wheels. As I