[You can click on any picture here to make it bigger. Also, there's a link to a photo album of 90 some pictures at the end of this post.]

I had a really fun travel day yesterday [actually, the 10th]! I was going from Wheeling, WV to central PA, the land of my forefathers.

I bade farewell to Rati and Dwija, hopped in my stupid little car and grabbed the National Road out of town. National Road is basically US Route 40 (in this area), but there are some “abandoned” sections of it that are well-marked.

Along the way, they’ve replaced the old National Road mile markers. I thought that was a pretty darn cool idea, actually. And they were pretty faithful too. Years ago, National Road had these things every mile. But entropy prevails and there aren’t many left. So redoing them was a cool idea.

Well, at least I thought it was.

I found my way to something called the “S” Bridge. It’s a really cool stone bridge, but it has an “S” curve (sort of) in it.

See? Pretty nifty.

It was also here that I found that the mile markers are a bit less than what I had hoped for…

I was bummed.

But I tramped on nonetheless.

Oh I did. I traveled National Road till Washington, PA and then grabbed the interstate to US 119 and that to US 30 – the Lincoln Highway.

One of the first things I came across on Lincoln Highway was the Flight 93 Memorial. Flight 93 was the plane that went down in PA on 9/11. All around this memorial, folks have placed hats, religious trinkets and flags. Also, there’s a lot of “we’re gonna git them!” rhetoric. Revenge for everyone!

At any rate, it wasn’t really a somber place. It was mostly angry. Kind of a shame.

And on I had to go. More Lincoln Highway for me! Lincoln Highway in western Pennsylvania has a bunch of hills. Most of them have big warning signs for trucks imploring them to not kill everybody in the world. One particular hill sparked my interest. Lookout Point – with an elevation of 2464 feet.

Check it out. Something used to be here! So I did a little research and came up with this…

Oh Some!
You can read more about it here. Neat place, eh?

Like National Road, Lincoln Highway also has abandoned sections. Down one of them is an old log church and a cemetery.

If I would have stayed on US 30 or just would have taken the interstate, I would have missed this. Actually, I would have missed pretty much everything I saw yesterday.

And speaking of getting off the interstate… how about getting off the interstate to see the interstate?

Sometime in the late 60’s, Pennsylvania by-passed about 13 miles and three tunnels of interstate. Now, if you travel down an old dirt road, you can get to most of it. Most of it is open to public use. Mostly, they’ve made it a bike trail. “Pike-to-Bike.”

I rambled around and finally came across the Sidling Hill tunnel.

I like some graffiti. Especially stencils. I found two that made me happy…

I could access the abandoned interstate in three locations. You can check out the photo album for more fun shots. Including a weird storage building that was all caved in. It housed blue metal tiles that made no sense to me at all.

After the tunnel fun, I moseyed my way to Gettysburg. A lot has changed since I was there last summer. But I bet most people wouldn’t notice.

I visited my typical haunts – Sach’s Covered Bridge and Little Round top. But I didn’t stay too long. It was getting dark and chilly.

I did manage a visit to Devil’s Den…

And the adjacent Valley of Death…

Before leaving, I drove by the new Visitor’s Center. It opens next month.

I approve. I like it quite a lot, actually.

And that was my day. I did about 350 miles. It took me nearly 12 hours, but it was pretty fun. I’m not really used to traveling alone, but I guess i better get used to it. I need to be a bit more outgoing and chatty with people. Not that I saw a lot of folks today, but still, I know that I do.

For those who will be following me on my Scoot 66 trip, this is probably how the format will be/look/etc. If you have any suggestions to make your stay more enjoyable, please let me know. Ok? Ok!

[Click here to see all of the pics I took! ]

[And now the exciting conclusion of the "Thursday was the longest day ever" trilogy!]

I knew I was running short on time. I had told Rati that I would be there around 7pm. My initial figuring was that this trip would take me 14 hours. For some reason, I reassessed that and said that it would take me 12. It was looking as if 14 would be a bit closer to reality.

I was six or seven hours away from my final destination. Antietam wasn’t my last stop for the day, but it was my last long stop. The rest would be mostly driving.

The driving would mostly be on Old National Road. I made my way through Hagerstown. From here on out, Civil War history was mostly behind me.

Large cities, like Hagerstown (ok, not really large, but it was larger than anything I passed through today), don’t mean much to me when traveling these back roads. Sometimes I’ll even bypass them. I did that a bit with Hagerstown, but before I knew it, I was back on Alt Route 40.

There were no scheduled stops now. I would pull over wherever I saw something worth pulling over for. A bridge or a historical marker or an old alignment that was long-ago bypassed. It’s the way I travel. And after you’ve done it, it’s difficult to pull the car back onto the long, boring super slab of an interstate. Very difficult. And so even though I was running late and the interstate was, at times, mere yards from me, I stayed true to the old National Road.

Unfortunately, I did have to jump on the interstate for a bit. I-70 is laid right over the old National Road. However, before I was giving this displeasure, I searched out an old fort (which was gated and closed) and found an old cemetery.

And I mean old. The newest grave was from 1823 or something. Many of the graves were marked only with an unmarked river stone. I’m not sure if there was a town here or perhaps this was from the fort or the railroad (which was nearby). Many of the markers were damaged, most of them by time.

Farther west, just after leaving I-70, I was able, for the first time, to navigate Sidling Hill via US Route 40. Ironically enough, the abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike tunnel (Sideling Hill Tunnel) I had visited on my way to Pennsylvania a week or so prior was dug through the same hill, 20 or so miles to the north. The interstate now cuts a huge gap into the mountain. The Old US Route 40 (National Road) takes the long way around. It’s a beautiful drive and i encourage anyone to take it.

After many more gorgeous miles of National Road, stopping here and there to read a sign or two, driving through Cumberland (the old start of National Road) and Frostburg, I drive by and turn around for a really fun looking bridge. Are you shocked? No?

Castleman’s River Bridge is quite the structure. It was built in 1813 and was the largest stone arch in America at the time. It was used for about 100 years and then retired. And though it was getting late, I stopped, walked across it to a weird little village of log cabins that must be something touristie during the warmer months. Traveling in March has its blessings afterall!

Shortly after the bridge, I crossed into Pennsylvania. National Road/Route 40 cruise up into Pennsylvania before crossing the West Virginia panhandle and Wheeling. And shortly after crossing into Pennsylvania, I pass Fort Necessity. For the record and for what it’s worth, let me say that I know nothing about Fort Necessity. It was a fort during the French & Indian War. There was a battle there. That is my entire knowledge of it. I’ll hopefully be revisiting the fort in the near future.

However, farther up the road I came across a sort of place of pilgrimage for National Road folks. Here lies General Edward Braddock. He was the leader of the British forces during the French and Indian War. He is also the guy who carved out “Braddock’s Road,” which later became the basis for National Road and US Route 40. Basically, this is the fellow who started it all.

Braddock started in Cumberland, just like National Road. His objective was a fort near Pittsburgh. Unfortunately, he met an untimely death in an ambush near what is now the town of McKeesport, PA (in 1755). His troops, in retreat, carried his body to the location where I now stood and buried it in an unmarked grave under his road. George Washington, who was fighting with Braddock, performed the ceremony.

The grave remained unknown until 1804 when road workers found it and reinterred it a short distance to where he lies today.

The road is still very visible in this location. Much of the long ago abandoned trace is visible in farmer’s fields and through woods. Sadly, much of it is gone.

And now it was really getting dark. I had no chance to stop at anything from here on out. I passed through and got very lost in Uniontown, PA. I hope it never darkens my path again.

However, just after Uniontown was Brownsville. Brownsville looks like a bomb hit it. It was nearly full-on dark when I passed through it, but I will most definitely be back. National Road drags you to Brownsville’s downtown. Every store is closed. Every single one. It was almost like driving through the largest ghost town I had ever seen.

Darkness had fully set in.

Upon Washington, PA, I entered the Interstate and drove quickly to Wheeling, West Virginia. My home for about a week.

Thanks for reading along. I’m sorry that it was so long-winded. I know most of it is history related and I know that it doesn’t appeal to many, but thanks for putting up with me.

As a reward, here are all of the pics from Thursday.
All 172 of them.
Click!

Upon coming back to WV, I had a few trips in mind. One was to Philippi and Rich Mountain (the first and third land battles of the Civil War)… (the second was The Battle of Big Bethel, in southeast Virginia).

Anyway, Philippi is about 2 hours of ridiculously twisty US250 South away. It’s beautiful, of course, but wow, it’s really freakily twisty. The towns along US250 are pretty run down, but would be great for a bit of urban exploration if you’re crazy enough to enter the rickety buildings of West Virginians with guns. Just a thought.

The towns of Littleton and Hundred were great and there seemed to be a bit of appreciation for their history. There was a rails-to-trails section along the old B & O Railroad bed (B & O stands for Baltimore & Ohio Railroad – they owned most of the rail traffic through here).

I stumbled across an old tunnel, but it had been bricked up. Hopefully it can be unbricked for future rails-to-trails stuff. But seeing has how the locals use the old railroad bed as a road for everything from ATVs to regular cars, it’s rather unlikely.

A bit farther down the line, the town of Mannington was pretty cool. There was a Civil War Trails plaque that basically gave an overview of stuff in the area. Union troops camped here in 1861, before any fighting took place.

While driving through Mannington, I saw a sign for “Round Barn.” Sarah, for some reason, was on a round barn kick a few weeks ago and yeah, I think they’re pretty cool too. So I hung a right and after a few miles, there it was. West Virginia’s only restored round barn.

An old fellow came out of his house, which I assumed originally was the farm house for the barn, though it’s a separate property now. He walked up to my car and asked “Is that one of them there hybrid cars?” I said that it wasn’t, “nope, just a normal car.” He asked how much it got per gallon. I said around 40. “Yeah boy, I tell you, that’s what you need nowadays. Gas is ridiculous. N’it’s just gonna git worse, I fear.”

He was a nice fellow and I got a smile out of him. Not a bad thing.

Back on US250, eventually it connects to it’s parent route, US 50. It follows along US 50 to Grafton, passing a really cool old motel. Grafton has a very large national cemetery where they’ve buried soldiers from WW 2 onward. I visited it looking for Civil War graves, but those are in another, apparently impossible to find, cemetery. I drove around the town looking for it and failed. I did, however find a sad, run down town that was desperately trying to find itself.

It was in Grafton that the Union troops coordinated the attack on Philippi. It was here that the Civil War’s first battle was planned. They really want to focus on that. It was also a pretty big B & O Railroad yard. And not only that, it was (supposedly) the place where the first Mother’s Day was celebrated.

While it’s true that Anna Jarvis founded Mother’s Day in Grafton, WV, the first attempt at an American Mother’s Day was by Julia Ward Howe after the Civil War as a call for peace and disarmament. It didn’t really take since there was a political bent to it. However, Jarvis’s “just celebrate mom” (a good idea, to be sure) worked. And in 1907, we got Mother’s Day. Though, nine years after the first Mother’s Day, Jarvis protested against what it had become: commercialized by American consumerism. Big shock.

They should have went with the original idea.

While leaving Grafton, I stopped at a Civil Monument. I usually just pass them by (seriously, I know it doesn’t seem like I do, but I really do!) and found this one to be very interesting.

This was the spot, the exact spot, where the first Union soldier was killed by enemy fire. Actually, it’s where the first soldier of either side was killed. Here is where, on May 22, 1861, Thornsbury Bailey Brown, Company B “The Grafton Guards,” 2nd Virginia (US) was shot by a Confederate sniper.

When the Confederates fired upon the Union-held Fort Sumter, in Charleton harbor, on April 12, 1861, it was considered the start of the Civil War. However, while the fort was surrendered, nobody was killed by enemy fire. So, well over a month later, we get our first casualty.

Coincidently, the first Confederate casualty was at the Battle of Big Bethel, hundreds of miles away, on June 10. The Confederates soundly defeated the Union, incurring only one death, though killed several (eight, I think) Union soldiers.

And from Grafton, on to Philippi! Philippi has a covered bridge. A big one. Oh I couldn’t wait! I had been there over a decade before and wanted to see it again.

It’s also the place where the first land battle of the Civil War took place on June 3, 1861. It was a fairly bloodless battle where the Union troops caught the Confederates by surprise. They fired a few shots and fled. Nobody died.

The real carnage of the war wasn’t a reality. Not yet. After Philippi was the battle of Big Bethel, hundreds of miles away and basically unrelated. Few deaths there too.

But The Battle of Rich Mountain had to have changed some folks’ idea of what the war would be.

Rich Mountain Battlefield, south of Philippi was my next destination. I had never been there and I really dig these small battlefields. The Confederate camping ground was still open land (treeless) and you could get a feel for how it was. The battlefield, just up the hill, still had fairly well preserved earthworks. I was pretty stoked about that. You don’t get to see such things very often.

Up the hill even farther, is where the real tumult took place. On July 11, 1861, the sneaky Union troops surprised the Confederates yet again and split them in two. After a two-hour (some sources say four-hour) battle, the Union had killed, wounded or captured over 400 Confederates.

After the war, many Confederate soldiers came back and carved the names of the fallen comrades upon the many rocks, memorializing the first who fell on their baptism of fire.

I had further plans for the day, but had taken too long along the way (especially in Grafton) to complete them. On top of all that, I had one of the worst headaches I’ve had in a long, long time. I decided to call it a day and head back.

Click to view pics of my day.
[a few, at the bottom, are out of order - I don't know why]

Today was a very long driving day. Even longer than the first day. Today I drove 750 miles from Cookeville, TN to home.

Along the way, we did the entire 105 or so miles of Skyline Drive. Much of today’s drive was interstate and basically eventless. However, Skyline was really nice and I’m glad we did it.

Here are my 18 pics from today.

And here are Smartz’s 15.

Today was cold. I think this may have been the longest cold ride I’ve ever taken.

I woke up at 6am and checked the outside temperature. 36 degrees. Things would need to warm up a bit before I’d get rolling. So I finished packing up and tying things down to the scooter. I stepped away from it and thought, “what am I doing?”

This is ridiculous. And that’s the theme for the whole day. What I’m about to do is making less and less sense.

By 10am, the temperature had risen to a whopping 48 degrees. I hoped on the bike and pulled out of the driveway. I noticed that the front end was wobbly. Through town, at slow speeds, it would wobble. I wasn’t sure if it was my nerves or the front end. I’m still not sure.

Before heading south on PA 104, I hung a left and dropped in on Nikki who was staying at her folks’ house. I traveled Route 66 twice with her and it was fitting to at least say hi/bye to her before taking off to see it by myself (a concept I’m not fully ready to face).

As New Berlin disappeared in my rearview mirror, the cold bit into me. The sky was over cast and offered no warmth. But in no time, I hit US 15 south, skipping old alignments, wishing I could be riding them instead of this 4 lane chunk of super slab. But I had to make time today.

Wheeling is about 350 miles away. I got a late start because of the weather, so there was no time to stop – even to eat.

That is, except at the BMW Motorcycle dealership in Mechanicsburg, PA. I wanted to get a helmet. I looked around a bit, tried on a few and finally picked out a silver Nolan. It’s the bee’s knees. I handed my old helmet to the parts guy and asked him if he could dispose of it.

I hate asking people to throw stuff away for me. When I ran the bookstore, people were always asking me to throw things away for them. I always found it rude. Always. But here I was asking some guy to throw away a helmet on my behalf. He did. Thank you, sir.

Seven hours to go.

Normally, the trip from New Berlin to Wheeling takes six hours. Normally, I’m in a car on an interstate. But on a scooter, no matter how fast it can go, you only do about 40mph average. All the starts and stops, the fueling up, my complete inability to take turns at speed, add up.

After buzzing through Carlise, I mistakenly took PA 34 south. I backtracked and found another road that went to Shippensburg. PA 174 is indeed a fine little road. Hardly any traffic. From Shippensburg, I took US 11 to Chambersburg and from Chambersburg I spend the next 80 miles on the Lincoln Highway, US 30.

I adore the Lincoln Highway through Pennsylvania. West of Chambersburg is great. I found some unmarked older alignments, but took no pictures.

The gloves I was wearing were huge snow gloves. It was cold. At this point, the temp was around 51 degrees. Huge gloves are a hassle to put on and take off. So taking a picture would require more effort and time than I could presently afford.

I road through McConnellsburg, Breezewood, Everett and Bedford, wanting to spend time in all of them, but unable to stop for more than gas and a quick (though failed) picture of The Coffee Pot just outside of Bedford.

Just after Bedford, I began to think that I had missed the turn off for PA 281 South. Luckily, I continued to press on, even though my “gut” told me I had passed it. I got a little worried, but figured if it were true, I could take Lincoln Highway some other road, take that south and follow 40 into Wheeling. To my surprise, my gut was wrong and 281 was waiting just for me.

When planning my trip through Pennsylvania, I looked for a “scenic route,” finding one in Jim Mountain Road. Yes, there is a mountain named Jim. And Jim has a road. Jim’s road was pretty special. Thirteen miles of smiles!

And though there were smiles, by this time, I was ready to be done for the day. I was cold, the temperature hadn’t creeped up too much and I was tired. Beat, really.

By the time I road around Uniontown (I have vowed to never stop foot nor wheel inside that horrible place), catching PA 21 to the West Virginia boarder, I was exhausted.

It doesn’t seem like it should, but riding takes a lot out of you. The upside is that you sleep really well at night. The downside is that you want to sleep right NOW.

I wasn’t sleepy – falling asleep on a bike is not for me, but I was ready to not be riding. However, at this point, it was a race against the daylight. I wanted to pull into Rati and Dwija’s, just south of Wheeling, by 7pm. I’m insanely punctual. You’ll see.

PA 21 is an old road. There are pot holes and twists and turns and some really very beautiful scenery. The entire day, I’ve had to deal with twisty roads. Most motorcyclists/scooterists love the twists. I do not. For some reason, I mentally block my ability to lean. I am always afraid the wheels will slide out from under me. Of course, they wouldn’t, but nevertheless, I’m scared of sharp turns. I slow down to 35 and lightly lean, sometimes throwing my foot out in the direction of the turn to act as a counter balance. The people stuck behind me are thrilled.

Fifty miles of PA 21 later and I’m at the border of West Virginia and the lamest three miles of crappy road ever invented. PA 21 magically turns into WV 891. It’s a three mile stretch of road connecting PA 21 to US 250 – the windiest road in the universe.

The speed limit on US 250 is 55mph. I have no idea how you are supposed to achieve that. There are no straight stretches. None. It is 100% curves. Most riders would love it. Again, I did not.

Lucky for me Palace Road was not too far away. And a mile down that was Rati and Dwija’s house. It’s been like my home for the past few months. And it was really nice to be here. I was welcomed with smiles and was finally warm (it got up to 60 somewhere around Uniontown – probably hotter there because Uniontown can burn in hell).

For the next two days, I will be hanging out here. I hope to see a friend or two and maybe I’ll even write about it.

My next stop is Auburn, Indiana. Nothing special there, it’s just 300 miles away from here and 200 miles away from Joliet (via Chicago).

Today was hard. Much harder than I expected. I’m completely exhausted and am now wondering if I can actually pull this off. Too many more days like today and I don’t see how I can. Fortunately, most days are much shorter and on much less twisty ground.

And that sums up today. Thanks for reading.

Check out my pics.

Miles traveled: 350ish (not sure, too tired to check)
Miles Total: 350ish (not sure, too tired to check)

Ending location: Near Wheeling, WV

High temp: 60
Low temp: 48

Things I forgot: Phone charger – so my phone is turned off right now. If you’re trying to call me, you won’t get through because the phone is turned off. So don’t try. Well… you can try if you like, you know, leave a funny message on my voicemail or something. Sure, you can do that, but really, I won’t answer because I don’t want to run down my crappy battery. I’ll get a charger soon. Sorry.

For those just new to my blogging, New Vrndavana is a Hare Krishna farm community in West Virginia. I lived here in 1994-1996 and have recently been coming back quite a lot. When I stay in West Virginia, I stay here, usually with Rati and Dwijia.

This morning Madhava Gosh, Soma and I took a walk behind Rati and Dwija’s at New Vrndavana to the Peter Crow cemetery. Now, while this isn’t a devotee cemetery, it was pretty cool.

Gosh knows I’m a sucker for old cemeteries, so when he asked if I wanted to check it out, I jumped at the chance.

On the walk there, Gosh told me about how they used to plant corn and make hay on surrounding hills. Also, he said that this place was called Mahavana. There are twelve forests in Vrndavana, India and this being New Vrndavana, at one point, the devotees named twelve areas after the forests of Vrndavana.

At New Vrndavana, the best known ones are Bahulavana (where the old temple – but not the old, old temple – is), Talavana, Vrndavana (where the old, old temple is), Madhuvana (where the old Jaganatha temple was – just before you get to the palace). The area where the cemetery lies is Mahavana (meaning “large forest”).

The cemetery was from the early 1800’s and was pretty run down. Neat though. Took a bunch of pics, though my camera was funky. You’ll see.

As we were walking back, I asked Gosh (pronounced “Ghosh,” btw) what the large hill over yonder was. “Govindaji Hill,” he said. There was going to be a temple on the hill, circa 1975. They leveled the ground and even laid a cornerstone with a deity of Ananta-sesa inside of it. But the temple was never built.

I was told to follow the ridge and it would take me there. We counted some cows in a pasture below us and then parted ways. The walk along the ridge was great. Wonderful views. I got a bit winded walking up the hill though it was really worth it. You could see where the ground was level. This would make an amazing place for a temple. Such a shame that they never built it. Of course, by now, it would be abandoned and falling down.

Down from Govindaji Hill was the place where Srila Prabhupada, the founder of the Hare Krishnas, gave his Bhagavat Dharma discourses. I walked down there, passing Sky Bear’s old trailer and outhouse (near the pump house) and walked up a lane to where this white bus that was used for the Rainbow Gatherings. However, it was on this spot where Srila Prabhupada sat. Amazing. Srila Prabhupada was HERE!

There’s a monument to it as well. There are a few monuments around Bahulavana that explain that Srila Prabhupada was here and a bit of what he did.

I then walked down to the Bahulavana, poked my head into the temple and wished that it would somehow all come back. The place is run down and basically beyond repair. Nevertheless, I have an attachment to it that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. This is New Vrndavana to me. The temple now, even though Radha-Vrndavana Chandra are there, is simply not New Vrndavana to me. I don’t know why though.

Well tomorrow I’m back on the road. The rest was much-needed, but it’s time to get down to it. Tomorrow I ride roughly 325 miles. Luckily it won’t be too cold. I’ll hit some rain and it will take a hell of a long time, but by tomorrow night, I’ll be in a motel in Indiana along US Route 6.

Anyway, I took 108 pictures. Some of them are pretty crap, some of them are lovely.
You can check them out here.

I knew I posted my day off goings ons a bit too early. While I was at NV, the cows stopped by the field right next to Rati & Dwija’s. It was fun to say hello. But I got a few ticks and that never goes over well when you’re a guest in someone’s house.

And a bit later that evening, Olivia stopped by. Woo! I’ve not seen her in nearly a year. Rati, Olivia and I were up till midnight or so catching up. She and I talk a lot, but we never really get to hang out. She even brought me a box of stuff that she … somehow acquired… from random places throughout the world. The best thing (by far) was an instruction pamphlet about what to do if your airplane goes down i the middle of the ocean. I wish I could scan it, it’s amazing. Thanks!

Obviously, I got to sleep late, which I thought would be a bad thing, since I had to get up early. I wanted to be on the road by 8am. Afterall, I had 325ish miles to do today, right?

Somehow or another I woke up on time and was indeed on the road by 8am. I said my good-byes (I’m really going to miss them) and bumped on down their lane, out Palace road to a very windy US 250 to WV 88 and then National Road through Wheeling.

The sky was a bit threatening, and I figured that it was probably going to rain sometime today. I putt-putted along National Road, crossed the Ohio River in to Ohio (there was no “Welcome to Ohio” sign… weird) and it started to sprinkle. Pennsylvania has 423 different words for “rain.” It was definitely a sprinkle. I pulled under and overpass and started to change into my Devo-esque rain gear.

The sprinkle changed into a light mist and I figured that after struggling to get the suit on, the sun would come out.

Hardly. I took National Road to St. Clairsville and then OH 9 to reconnect with US 250. Ghosh suggested that I do this to avoid the insane twists of 250 below Cadiz, OH. Great tip, I bet it saved me an hour. No worries, because I can lose an hour much more efficiently than I can gain one.

The rain was coming down pretty steadily now. All through OH 9, US 250 and OH 39, the rain fell, mostly, in buckets.

While it was raining, I rode through Berlin, Ohio. Berlin is pretty much the Lancaster of Ohio. Amish everywhere. But their buggies are cooler than Pennsylvania Amish. They’re kind of high-tech. I wish I could have grabbed a few pics. They are all black, and snazzy. Sort of like the Knight Rider car of Amish buggies. They even have two “mod” lights on the front and a couple of mirrors. I think it would be pretty cool to add a bunch of lights and mirrors, Quadrophinia style!

The big attraction for me today was the Lincoln Highway. I’ve heard it was well preserved through Ohio. I was bummed that it was raining, but as I got to the town of Lucas, it stopped. In celebration, I pulled over by this weird ass building called Liquid and ate a Cliff Bar.

It was around noon, and so that was my lunch.

Mansfield, Ohio delivered the Lincoln Highway to me before I expected it, so in glee, I wandered from my directions and followed it. Now that does indeed sound like a recipe for disaster, but I promise, it’s not. All worked out because Ohio marks the Lincoln Highway really very well. Thanks, Ohio. This time, you ARE fun!

I took a really old alignment of it and I was afraid I’d get lost, so I went north to find the slightly less old alignment. I crossed US 30 and went about a mile, nearly giving up until I saw an old Lincoln Highway mile marker and squeaked in appreciation.

Heading west, I magically dodged about four storms. It got really nasty to the south and east of me. That’s right, the storms were headed north north east, so I had to keep steppin’ to avoid the wet.

Figuring that since the sun was out, I could remove the Devo-gear, I pulled over and attempted to disrobe. Though I was avoiding the storms, I wasn’t avoiding the wind. The wind kicked up and knocked Ruby over into a ditch, nearly right on top of me.

I struggled for several minutes to right her and nearly couldn’t. I’m not sure what I would have done if I couldn’t pick her up. Thankfully, I did, though I was amazingly out of breath after. There is no damage at all, but both of the mirrors got all loose on me. I’m prepared in ways that make Boy Scouts look like slackers, so I fixed it on the spot. Ten minutes later, I was on the road.

It was amazing. The sun was shining, it was 70 degrees and the road was straight and long and I was smiling ear to ear, but for the wind. The wind was blowing pretty well due-east, which meant that I had a horrible time keeping Ruby up to speed. Normally, with the weight of the bags and me, she can pull 75mph no problem. But with this wind, I couldn’t even coax her to do 60.

The Lincoln Highway isn’t anywhere near a funky as Route 66, but it has a turn of the century (like early 1900’s) charm all its own. The towns are quaint and peaceful and the sky is huge. Ohio passed really quickly.

Before I knew it, I was at a truck stop fueling up (Ruby’s MPG suffered horribly because of the wind). I walked inside and was stopped by a nice-ish man who had almost five teeth to his smile. He asked me how much I paid for the scooter. I told him $6000 to which he replied that he could get one just like it for $2000.

No, he couldn’t, but I had to pee really badly and didn’t want to argue. I simply didn’t care. He then asked where I was going. I told him California via Route 66 and that tomorrow I’d be in Chicago.

“You don’t need to go to Chicago to pick up Route 66, ” he said. “It’s starts in Ohio, just down the road.” I told him that it didn’t, but he insisted it did, so I said, “you’re talking about Ohio Route 66, I’m talking about US Route 66.” He said, “yep, I know, you can take it to California.”

I agreed because I didn’t care enough not to.

He kept talking, even when I tried to make it for the bathroom. I have a hard time just ending a conversation. It went on and on for about 20 minutes. Finally, I got relief and used another door to exit the truck stop, you know, just in case.

As I left, the clouds were rolling in. Luckily, Ohio was nearly at an end and Indiana was waiting with open arms. I took Lincoln Highway but a few miles into Indiana, then turned north on Indiana Route 101.

My original destination was for the KOA in Auburn, Indiana. It’s WAY too cold and windy for that, so I decided to take 101 pasted Auburn to US Route 6. It’s about 30 miles. The winds were now cross winds. My guess is probably 40mph gusts (there was a sustained wind of 32mph). It was pretty tough keeping the rubber side down. I could get higher speeds with cross winds, but it was a bit hairier.

I took Route 6 west to Kendallville, where I decided I would stop for the night. But it was only 5pm. Why not push on? So I did.

The towns of Wawaka, Nappanee and Bremmen provided really nothing at all. I was looking for a place with WiFi and nothing doing there.

By the time I hit US 31, in the town of Lapaz, it was 7:30. I had put my rain gear on again. The temperature dropped to 48 and I was freezing. I needed to find a motel, but there didn’t seem to be anything anywhere. So I called Sarah who looked it up and after a few “where am I?!” calls, she directed me to go to US 30. Yep. The same exact road I traveled 30 miles away from to be on US 6. It was now a measly 6 miles away. So yes, I could have stayed on Lincoln Highway, enjoyed a lovely ride and ended up in the same place as I am now, Days Inn … somewhere in Indiana (Plymouth?), in much less time.

Everything was wet. It’s not that the rain gear didn’t hold up. It did really well. But I got caught by surprise and the rain did its thing.

Also, my boots are not waterproof. *Slosh slosh*

The motel room is nice. Things are drying out and soon life will be back to normal.

Tomorrow is Chicago. Should be a comparatively short ride. I definitely had a better day today (save for the end bits) than I did on my first day out. I’m weary, but ready to move along.

And tomorrow is the start of Route 66! So if you’re reading just waiting for such things, your wait is soon over.

G’night, kids!

Miles traveled today: 412 miles
Miles traveled total: 727 miles

High temp: 70
Low temp: 48 (rain rain rain rain rain!)

Things forgotten: hat at Rati and Dwija’s. Grr.

Here are the pics from today and last evening.

The trip from Decatur to Wheeling went by rather quickly. This is mostly due to interstates. Now, as the entire trip has show, I don’t like interstates. But I do admit they serve a purpose. I didn’t realize that they served such a purpose to a scooter.

Out west, the interstates are extremely fast. Add in a head wind and you’ve got a 50mph death trap surrounded by other death traps moving at around 80mph. But heading east, the wind was behind me. Throw in high gas prices making everyone drive slower (I’m just speculating about that, but I think it’s true – people are driving slower… or I somehow got faster).

Well, I did get a little faster due to the tail wind. I was drafting trucks a lot of the way, as well. A fun little game to play is get about three car lengths behind a semi, so that you’re in his slip stream, but not too close. And when another semi is passing both of you, hit the gas. The scooter will take full advantage of the slip stream. Right when you get about one car length from the semi in front of you, the semi to your left will just be passing. Do a quick lane shift and you’re riding at 80mph behind a huge truck giving you zero wind resistance. It’s pretty fun!

Sure, a little dangerous, but I’m riding a scooter across the country… so… where’s the line?

I rode around Columbus. Not like around the streets, but physically around it. I used to live there and I’m not sure I really like the place. I kept my respectful distance and rode on. From a bit before Columbus to Wheeling, I took the interstates. It was probably 150 miles or so. Maybe a little more (took US 33 to the beltway and that’s rather interstate-like).

I got to Wheeling just as quickly as if I were in a car. Very few cars passed me. Usually, it was the other way around.

After a windy (with turns and bends) West Virginia State Route 88, I found myself on US 250 and then Palace Road on my way to Rati and Dwija’s. Just a little bit after 12 noon. Fast!

I had quite an amazing ride – when you take into account it was all on the interstates and if I don’t think about bypassing half a state worth of the historic National Road.

Thursday, I’ll be here and then Friday I’ll leave, finishing out the trip. Crazy that it’s over. . .

Miles today: 283
Miles total: 10,692

I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Rati, Dwija and I were up till well after 1am. I wish I could have stayed longer.

But this morning, I woke up in a familiar place for the first time in nearly three months (well, if you don’t count the day before… hm). And that was pretty nice.

I packed up my stuff, ate a small breakfast and said goodbye to two amazing people, promising to be back a couple of times before leaving for Seattle.

The plan was to stick to the back roads. First, National Road. I did it for a bit. There was no fanfare crossing into Pennsylvania. I sneaked in the back, I guess. Not even a sign. Nothing, really. I was going to take a picture of my triumphant return, but nope.

No big deal.

Route 40/National Road is usually pretty nice. But today it was busy and as soon as I got into PA, people started to yell at me.

Seriously. I don’t know what it is about this crummy state, but I haven’t really had anyone just yell at me this entire trip. But in PA, several shirtless men in trucks yelled at me. Maybe it was Shirtless Yelling Man Day or something.

I had to take the interstate a couple of times. Not had to, really, but did. But I didn’t linger too awfully long. I even did a little exploration of the town of Brownsville. A few months ago, I passed through it on a Sunday evening. It was dead. So I figured that I should go back and get some better, daytime pictures of it.

Today, I rode through it and it was actually busy. Not the businesses, of course. Those are boarded up. But Main Street was stacked with cars. Oh, and stacked with shirtless guys in trucks yelling at me. This happened twice.

It was also here that I saw one of the paint by numbers that I’ve been looking for. It’s unofficially titled “Touchdown Jesus.” It was in the window of a storefront that may have been turned into a church or something. The sign read: Travels with Jesus. I’m not really sure what it was, but seeing Touchdown Jesus made my day. I wish it were for sale. But nobody seemed to be around.

I rode on.

Around Uniontown, I headed north to US 30. I had around 160 miles under by belt and was beat. The day’s rest at Rati and Dwija’s helped a bunch, but I’m still really spent. I considered taking the interstate, but stuck with the Lincoln Highway.

At an overlook, I met two motorcyclists, one who had ridden up from Fort Worth, Texas. They were brothers, Ray and Warren (I think). Ray was the traveler, visiting Warren and the rest of his family. We chatted for a bit, exchanging road stories.

Oddly enough, that invigorated me and allowed me to push on towards New Berlin.

It didn’t, however, keep me off of I-99. I was going to take US 522 north, but decided to shorten the trip a bit and take the newish I-99. It’s funny how afraid I was of interstates before this trip. And though I didn’t take many during it, the few that I took make the ones we have around here seem easy and carefree.

I took the superslab to near State College and then US 322 to PA 45, roads I’ve taken many time before. It was easy to just zone out.

After about an hour and a half of all that, I rolled into New Berlin, my hometown.

I could go on about how everything seemed so much smaller, but honestly, it all just seems the same. And it seems like I’ve only been gone a few moments. Nothing much, if anything at all, has changed.

That’s not really a bad thing. It’s almost like time stopped for me to make this trip. Sure, it was April when I left and it’s nearly August now, but still, a few months in a small town makes very little difference.

There wasn’t anyone to greet me when I arrived home. Just like there wasn’t anyone to see me off. I’m very ok with that. It seems fitting. I don’t like big to-do’s. I left and came back to very little attention.

And to make things even more normal, the first thing I did was had bad Chinese food with Sarah. Just like I did the night before I left.

So here I am. Back in Pennsylvania after twelve weeks of scootering around the country.

Thanks a bunch to everyone who helped out along the way, to the folks who gave me directions, to the folks who gave me a place to crash.

And thanks to everyone who read this. I’m not really sure why you’d bother, but I’m glad you did.

I’m planing on making one more post in the next couple of days… so stay tuned.

Here are my pics.

Miles today: 360
Miles total: 11,052

So the grand total is 11, 052. If you add in the miles via that horrible PT Cruiser (1,976 miles), it’s: 13,028. I’ve traveled over 13 thousand miles since I left. That’s pretty fun.