Pressing matters of a personal nature took over finally, and I wasn’t able to remain in Sandusky for as long as I wished. I was headed for points farther east – a 400 mile ride to D.C. You might think that it’s a convoluted ride east, but thanks to the interstate highway system, it’s not.
The interstate highway system is a marvel when one wants to make time. Hook up with one of them, and no matter which direction you wish to travel, you’ll find an interstate to take you there in a hurry. It’s not the most exciting of highways to ride, but it enabled me to arrive long before dark.
With both a Tiffany’s and a Saks across the street from my abode for the night, I felt like a prince in pauper’s clothes. Well, okay, I was in biker’s clothes, but still. I crashed early, and the next day I was raring to go, so out the door I went in search of food. Much to my surprise, it was so humid that in no time even the backs of my hands were sweating. Nice. I found a deli and in I went to air conditioned bliss. After a quick bite I was back outside.
I was not impressed with the ambiance of the street on which I was walking. Women looked too good. Clothes looked expensive. Cars were too shiny. Money. Don’t get me wrong, for I’ve traveled in some strange circles from time to time, money being one of them, but old money is different, and this definitely smelled of old money. I knew right away that I didn’t fit in here, and after a quick walk on both sides of the street I wasted no time in turning tail back to the hotel.
Once there I hopped on the bike and took a short ride into D.C