Monthly Archives: July 2008

Lake Superior, Long trips, On the road, Pix

Bear country

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For the past two days I’ve been riding through lake country – mile after mile of evergreen and coniferous forests, uninterrupted but for lakes and rivers and streams and the occasional road or railway track.

Yesterday I saw a huge black bear with one of the shiniest coats I have ever seen. He was by the side of the road, feasting on a moose that had been hit by a vehicle – probably a semi, since there were no car parts in the vicinity. Ordinarily, I would have stopped for a picture from a distance, but I was fearful of a mother with cubs nearby and didn’t want to take a chance on coming between the two. Had I been in an auto, I would have stopped and remained inside while I took the pictures.

I also managed to stop at the Burger Scoop for another great burger and ice-cold milkshake. Now why can’t other burger joints be this good? When I pulled in to the Burger Scoop, two bikes were approaching the parking lot. I gave them a sign indicating that the food was great here, but they pointed to the sub shop across the highway and went in there. They had absolutely no idea what they were missing.

Long trips, On the road, Stupidity plain and simple

Let’s make fun of…

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Ontario has, without a doubt, the ugliest and most boring license plates of any jurisdiction in North America.

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I crossed the Peace Bridge from Buffalo into Ontario, Canada. No problem with that; however, while trying to find my way north to Toronto, I encountered two road signs: Concession Road North and Concession Road South.

I don’t know about anyone else, but to me, a concession road is a farm road. Now, why on earth would I take a farm road anywhere? Right. I wouldn’t.

Unfortunately, the Ontario tourist information building – which I could see! – was across on another farm road, and there was absolutely no signage to direct me to it. I know this to be true, because I tried to get to it.

Twenty miles down a road, I finally discovered a sign with directions for Toronto, London and some other mystery destination.

How these southern Ontario farm boys find their way around their own country is a mystery to me, although, I suppose if one is a local farm boy, he already knows how to get to Toronto for his rub and tug.

How about some signage for the tourist?

Better yet, how about some meaningful directional signs right after one leaves the border station?

Long trips, On the road, Pix, Places to eat

Fried pickles, no condiments for me, thanks

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Fried pickle, anyone? All right, so I’m not exactly a connoisseur of fine food at every stop that I make. This time, I noticed fried pickles on the menu, and I just had to try them. Let it be known that at least once, you have to have fried pickles – even if fried, thin-sliced zucchini is on the menu.

The strawberry shake was pretty good too. It jammed up the straw on every intake.

Not to be a sourpuss, but I sorely missed the fried, thin-sliced zucchini at the DuBois Diner in DuBois, PA. I should have had both.

Oh well.

On the other hand, I did get to see an old-style Harley-Davidson® dealership in the same town. These are becoming fewer and fewer as the company forces the dealers to upgrade to the new boutiques so favored by the RUBs.

Long trips, On the road, Politics

Convention for the masses

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I’m in Huntingdon, and I’m checked into a hotel where there’s a Democratic “revival” of sorts going on. When I saw the banners and signs I thought I’d be out of luck for a room. Wrong.

Several times, while strolling between floors, I made some inane elevator comments about candidates and electioneering slogans, but there were only half-hearted responses, sans smiles.

These Democrats don’t appear to have much of a sense of humor. No surprise, I guess, given the tone of the times and how much their elected representatives have been kissing Republican ass in Congress since 2004.

Perhaps they thought I was a Republican stooge. Again, no surprise, given the times.

Long trips, On the road

Eating it

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New territory today – civil war-era homes and towns and cemeteries spread across the area. Old roads with treed canopies stretching out for miles, winding and weaving across hill and dale. The riding is so much better on these back roads, or blue highways as they were known, because of the color of the roads criss-crossing the old maps. Now the routes are colored red, of course, but “red highways” just doesn’t have the same connotation.

Many of those old roads and the places found on them have been replaced by the interstate highway system, but you can still find simple mom and pop food if you take the time to look. I discovered such a spot for a very late lunch on 522 in Pennsylvania. On my way by I spied a bike parked in the lot, which is why I u-turned and pulled in.

I am usually never disappointed by these places out in the middle of nowhere that pop up and are gone in an instant in the rear-view mirror. I wasn’t disappointed with the chicken stew.

Once again, I didn’t let the place just disappear.