More of the same
Tag Archives: photos
The call of the loon
Early in the morning I was riding by the Dixie Lake road, so I just had to pull in and take a break from the monotony of forest and field and stream. This time, there were two young loons, complete with remaining pinfeathers, paddling on the surface and diving.
A few minutes later, I heard the plaintive call of a loon and an adult flew by and landed farther down the lake. It had been years — I have absolutely no idea how long — since I had heard the sound of a loon calling.
Endless lakes
Never-ending lakes
Bear country
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.
Lake Superior wilderness
Fried pickles, no condiments for me, thanks
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.
The horror of war
Grant’s Memorial