Smokey Mountain Chopper Fest!! Part 1

It was high time I'd gotten out on a good long haul East Coast haul.  9:30am Friday morning, I'd parked my truck just after the designated no parking 8-9:30am street sweeping Tuesday/Friday times.  (Preplanning: this would enabled me to take Sunday and Monday to travel back before I had to move the truck.)  I walked the block back to my apartment, and made sure my bag and blanket were bungee corded and everything was secured to my bike.  I rolled her out of the front porch and warmed her up in the street.  I checked my initial "no toll" route again, memorizing the lefts and rights to get out of the city and into New Jersey.  I got stuck in 10am traffic coming over the Brooklyn Bridge, with traffic not even hinting at a lane to split.  I made some daring attempts at guiding my handlebars around car mirrors, and stopped in traffic to chat with my pal who was hollering at me from the delivery truck driver seat.  Told him I was heading to NC, and as soon as a lane opened between the cars, I darted off.  

layin em out before saddling up again.

I rode for 11 hours before I decided to take a nap on my bike in a truck stop under my bike shelter half.   30 minutes into not being able to really get any sleep, I decided that filling my belly at the diner, was my next best option.  An overly-eager-to-get-my-attention trucker kept eyeing and trying to start conversation with me, and as soon as he mentioned the words "dangerous,"  I said "this conversation is over."  My mind on the location, and ease of access of all my knives.  He shut his mouth and walked out of the diner.  (Maybe it was just the all day riding, and fatigue, but come on,  I'm tired of people who don't ride, ever mentioning the words "fear" and "danger."  I'm just gonna shut em down every time, or demand money for me having to put up with their nonsense.)  After feeling like that truck stop wasn't the best to catch my Zzz's  I plotted my direction to a small cheap lodge that I'd stayed at on my move to NYC.  Quiet, out of the way,  and 30 miles later I'd arrived a total of 555 miles from my doorstep in Brooklyn, to the room at that hotel.  An elderly middle eastern couple woke to check me in, looking tired, and curiously at me, I let them know I'd stayed there before and was looking forward to it again.  In a different room this time, the toilet had a slow leak, and every 15 minutes or so, I'd hear the water fill running.  Also, my neighbor had their air conditioning on, and the thing kept whining up and down nonstop, in a squealing manner.  I was able to close the bathroom door to the water running, but I had to just drown out the AC noise by sheer tiredness.  Nonetheless, I woke the next morning after an epic sleep, and I was ready to hit my next 216 miles to the campsite.  

 

The next morning I got up from a well rested snooze.  Knowing I only had a few hundred more miles to trek, I kinda took my time getting around.   I slowly rolled the long way through the small town, and broke my neck at all the scenic architecture, and crumbling buildings.  I told myself,  that I wanna live in a small town with a bunch of old people, history and good stories.  Cause it ruled.   Yesterday I'd ridden through New York, Virginia, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, and today I was going to breeze through Tennessee, and North Carolina.  I mean the scenery was just gorgeous.  From The Blue Ridge mountains, to winding through the Smokey's, what countryside.  I took mainly the 81 down through the states, then hit the 23 off the main route south which pretty much ran the length toward Franklin.  At Franklin I split a left down the 64 the 6 miles to the campsite. I found out that the small town we were in was a dry town, and I couldn't supply myself with whiskey or beer for my personal shortcomings.  So not wanting to flip back to Franklin, I hurried to the campout for as much free beer as I could waste myself on.   

I rolled up to this dirt road, and offered my party offerings of 5$ to the entry crew.  Then I carefully maneuvered down the slippery wet muddy sloping shoot to the open field, where bikes were splattering the landscape, tents popping up, groups gathering, and wanderers wandering.  All I wanted to know was where was the cheap beer.  I heard it was in a red truck.  Goal number one.  Find red truck.  I avoided any long conversations until I did.  I even wrangled some folks into my find the red truck/free beer venture.

This is not the Bronx

So today I decided to get up early, and meet some bikers in the big city for a group ride. It was a fairly expected shit show. I was the only one with buckthorns and a sissybar amongst the millions of cafe racers and crotchrockets, but hey, you only live once. After getting tired of potholes, stoplights, and maybe a red light violation, I ditched the gaggle for a gas station. Not having any idea what to do in the city, but try to leave as soon as possible, I split lanes down the western bank 9A traffic. Turned left onto a street with less traffic, and stopped at a Dunkin Donuts, which I haven't left, cause it's the only place with little to no people, and I have a corner view of a little league game, on a very well maintained field, and I know this is not the Bronx.

This is the beginning....again.

It has come to pass, that my time here in NYC is coming to an end.  Grateful for the freedom that has been bestowed upon me.  I can now explode exploratively all across this great nation, that I have been waiting in bait for since the summer of 2012.   I'm going to get a travel camera, and take footage of my ride, and adventures.  Looking forward to every mom and pop diner, every boarded up town, and every opportunity to meet new and interesting folks along the way.  May the sun be on my face and the wind at my back.

Brooklyn to Boston: My first east coast bike trip.

A freezing overnight ride from Brooklyn to Boston, over rough patchy highway roads that lacked a good winter pave, through dark two-lane lonely backwoods country roads, and many a stop for heat and coffee; 10 hours later, and all toll roads avoided, I show up cold, hungry, and tired meandering at 4:30am in front of my friends house, who's number I couldn't see on the door.  He runs out to greet me.  It was his birthday the day I had left Brooklyn, and it was his sisters birthday, the morning I showed up.  Nonetheless, I was there for the festivities and a good long challenging ride.   I needed to sleep most of the day, even though I was awake at 10:45am, wondering how I was going to stay awake.  I convince myself that getting out of bed is a good idea, and I head downstairs to a wonderful aroma and the perfect breakfast made by Matteo's mom: coffee, two eggs over-easy, bagel toasted, creamcheese and turkey bacon.  Feeling energized, we rode two-up on my bike around the small peninsula town of Winthrop, MA, taking in the history of his family lineage and roots:  grandmas house over here, grandpas house over there, cousins, uncles, and relatives that are stacked thick in the fibers of an early first American settler town, and I feel like I understand my friend a whole lot more.  I say "lets go to a pub!"  and he says "well actually this is a dry town." My mouth goes dry at the words.  But then he follows up with, "however, we do hold the record for the town with the most liquor stores in a square mile."  Roots.  I make a prohibition joke, and we head to the cemetery.

first stop, 1.5 hours into trip: I stop for warmth and food.

Here she sits outside my diner window. 

the 9th hour, It was too cold, and rough, and I mustered a photo of the warm tunnel into boston.

Breakfast at Matteo's house!

Morning after, my bike comes out for some sun.

I'm on the East Coast!!!! 

(glamour shot, but really I'm just dead tired inside.)

I found a riding buddy!

Deer Island, self-explanatory captioning.

A sweet one-lane road through a cemetery.

A Bostonian Shore.

A cool grand old ramshackle.

I still like the photos my camera can't focus for.

probably the truest bumper sticker ever.

I decided to run on down to Providence, cause I've only heard about it, and wondered if I'd ever go.

A beautiful farmhouse along the 6 east in Rhode Island, on my way to Connecticut.

13 colonies on that roof.

Someone is fishing in the middle of that lake.

I was trying to find the tourist shop that was gonna sell me a Killingly shirt.

Cemetery in Pomfret, CT

Visiting a beautiful property, spoken for the wealthy boarding students at Pomfret School.

I only stopped cause it was a gorgeous and curious campus. 

way more photos on my phone, I have yet to upload.

Something new.

I'm the only person in the restaurant that doesn't speak Polish.  The walls were decorated by a 5 year olds Easter art class, and the furnishings were donations from a 1970's homeless shelter. I pay $1.50 for a soda.  They don't have any more meatloaf, so I order the roast beef dinner, with mashed potatoes, and a side of 3 different variations of cabbage salad.  I am accompanied by my reflection on any one of the million mirrors that wrap around the dining area along the upper half of the walls. 

    I immediately miss the Polish restaurant down the street, with the cozy atmosphere and deer heads on the wall; the more affordable entrées and the readily available supply of meatloaf, and beautiful presentation. 

   But this new place, well, nothing quite reinforces what you already love, other than something new eliminating itself as its competition. 

I ask the waitress how to say hello.  She replies: "chinobre," at least that's How it sounded.   I tell her the roast beef is delicious.  I sit here for almost 2 hours, chewing and typing. And I'm looking forward to a nap, when I get home.

Pothole weightlessness in NYC!

Airborne.  Floating weightless through airspace at 60mph on the Queens Bound Expressway.   I experienced my first New York City POTHOLE.  I was changing lanes, and then in a shadow there it was. A giant hole a couple feet long.  I entered it and it spewed me into the air.  Felt like I blacked out, or the impact was so hard it forced my eyelids to close, maybe by the force of my helmet shifting forward over my eyes, at which moment I felt the weightlessness, kept my arms straight, and then a big thunk back onto the pavement, and a huge screech of my tires, bottoming out. I was still upright, and moving forward.  Calm. Smiling, or more laughing.  One of the guys behind me moved up next to me and shot me a "thumbs up" gesture. Like we were all really stoked that I'd landed that trick. Hahaha 

I found myself in NYC.

6 days.
     2900 miles.
           1500$.
                   4 hotels.
                          1 cat.
                                   3 great friends.
                                            New Years Eve.
                                                     Harley-Davidson.

California-Arizona-New Mexico-Texas-Oklahoma-Tennessee-Virginia-Pennsylvania-New York.

It was a journey I was ready for.

An adventure awaiting me.  Career.  Future.  A dream to live.  My dream.

So basically I had picked up a hitch-hiking cat, and headed across the country to the Big Apple, and this is a time-line of our adventure.
By this point I've been at work for 3 weeks and I'm starting to get the hang of things at work.  I like the routine, and the schedule.  It's fun having something you look forward to every day.  Granted I miss all the fun trips and parties that are happening back home, Like the way I missed it for the last 15 months I was in school.  But this is my path, and I'm diving head first into it.  The pleasure of enjoying the responsibility and goals that I set out for myself.  And I kinda just want to build on those right now.  It feels good to do so.

So here are the photos: enjoy.

Riding around town, having drinks, 

playing pool, closing down bars with Greg, 

the night before I left town. 

This book:  It found me the day I was to leave town.
I walked along a sidewalk, and found a pile of free books.
I dug under a few and this one jumped right into my hands.
#fate.

Eating an orange that had been 

in the cold dark cavernous crevasses 

of my truck for months.

(and it was delicious)

Motel #1: didn't make it far from California, 

but it had been a long ass day.

California Desert #1: morning-ish

kitty: beholding the beauty of the desert sky, 

or something stuck on the window.

A walk was taken to appease the cat.  

Not too far from Flagstaff, Arizona.

Our first snow sightings.

Moments before, I had taken an amazing video of a glimmering sunset shooting through the cracks of a moving train right along side of me, and then I realized I hadn't pressed the button.  (and now I know what I will set my life goal on capturing again.)

Coming into Albuquerque, New Mexico.

If only pictures could convey how cool 

the distance looked 

when I took this photo.  

(Like, you know, the way my eyeballs and brain 

thought it looked amaaazing.) 

High Plains: I love them,
minus any winds that might come with the territory.

Look how far you can see.

Oh, look, here I am leaving New Mexico.

Look at that sweet line-up of
Cadillacs
checking in at the RV park.

Famous Cadillac art graveyard off Hwy 40 in Texas.  

(Eyes grow large, jaw drops, brakes pump, lanes change, U-turns happen, the cat doesn't want to get out to walk to the cars stabbing the ground, I go by myself, have a stranger take a photo of me standing in automobile carcass, had a great time, took a photo for a nice couple, the end.) 

I made it to Elizabeth and John's country haven 
in Lone Grove, Oklahoma.
Warm fire, warm food, and delicious alcoholic drinks which mean warm body, amongst warm company and great conversations.

And here's Dear John

And Sweet Elizabeth.

And these beauties that make the
fresh abundance of eggs.

Coolest winter garden.

Best Gnomes ever!

yep, best!

And this is the gorgeous back yard!

Here Julien is wishing he could play with the horsies!

Let's have a moment of silence
for the dear folks who have to live in states
with laws like this.

Who's ready for the West Memphis Motel 6 adventure???!

Hold your stomachs folks, 
but here is the dried loogie 
on the television in the 
West Memphis Motel 6.

And after switching rooms, my next room had a broken bed.  
Just imagine what sort of goodies you can hide under that mattress: guns, money, drugs, hookers.

Too bad it was too cold to go swimming. 
(splish splash)

Bridge into Memphis.  
(Cold steel, just like my knives.)

Welcome to Memphis. This is kinda how I would have expected the Motel 6 I stayed in the night before to have looked...although not far off. hahaha

This is me double parking, running up to the statue, snapping a picture, and running back to the truck, locals looking at this tourist like "sheesh."

Beale Street, Memphis.

This is me driving by Graceland as slow as I could to get a picture, and not just of the giant aqua colored nativity scene blocking my really awesome view of the manor.

Instagram photo!
@onedirtybiker 

Cat drinks beer, eats dinner, takes shit, watches Hallmark channel with me, looks surprised I took shower, throws litter everywhere, I squash/clean giant ants off the floor in the morning, sneak cat out in giant yellow middle-eastern head wrap.

this was my sweet room, 
in the really cute town.
(Can't remember the name of the town, 
or motel, or highway.)

One of many farmland pics I'm about to show you.

I snapped this on my way to see the Peterbilt semi dealer.
Sucker for small country houses....and semis.

And this is where Michelle lives, in the cute little town of Jim Thorpe in Pennsylvania.  We spent New Years together.

Here's Michelle and Sophia in front of  Michelle's shop and residence. Such a cool place: Natural Impressions. 

Cute little back alley rabbit in a garden with the drooping ivy off the hillside and the icicles for daaaaaays!

OMG NYC!!!!

That's right, I rode to work
on my first day
in a snow dusting.

My first real NYC snow storm!
(gorgeous right?!)

Standing at the top of my stoop, taking picture of neighbors houses, cars, snow, and street.

Guess what gets cold and frosts and freezes: my window.
It's just so much seasonal magic.  Come visit.

This is what an adult does on a work night.
(Tea...They drink tea, and kick their legs up on colorful pillows.)

Beer + bulb + mini lamp shade = best fucking idea eeeever!

Go drink here.  Be happy.
The Rusty Knot.

First work shirt!  If I didn't purposely omit my
face from the screen, you'd see a giant dorky grin
that didn't go away for a few days.
(Oh, and it's still there.)

NYC H-D Holiday Party!  I dressed up fancy.

Operation repair favorite gloves 5th time.
(duct tape freezes to finger tips.)

Thanks for tuning in kiddos!  I love sharing my photos with you, and expressing my adventures.

See you on the road!