October 2019

W H A T ’ S

I N S I D E

MO NT HLY C O L U M NS

Motorcycles, Travel & Adventure

FREE WHEELIN’ ..................................................3 WHATCHATHINKIN’ ...........................................4

Publishers

Brian Rathjen • Shira Kamil

POSTCARDS FROM THE HEDGE.......................5

Contributors

Mark Byers, Bill Heald, Tony Lisanti, Dr. Seymour O’Life

ON THE MARK ....................................................6

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BACKLASH..........................................................8

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WE’RE OUTTA HERE ........................................18

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GREAT ALL AMERICAN DINER RUN ..............15

INSIDE SCOOP .................................................21 WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE ............................47 UPCOMING EVENTS CALENDAR ...................48

FE AT U RE S HORIZONS TO THE WEST................................25 BUZZ ONE FOUR .............................................36 THE ROAD HOME ............................................40 I KNOW THIS PLACE ........................................45

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BACKROADS (ISSN 1087-2088) is published monthly by BACKROADS™, Inc. 2019. All rights reserved. BACKROADS™ may not be reproduced in any manner without specific written consent from the publisher. BACKROADS™ welcomes and encourages submissions (text and photos) and suggestions. Include phone number with submissions. BACKROADS™ will only return material with enclosed sufficient postage. The written articles and opinions printed in BACKROADS™ are not necessarily those of the publisher and should not be considered an endorsement. The Rip & Rides® published are ridden on the sole responsibilty of the rider. BACKROADS™ is not responsible for the conditions of the public roadways traversed. Please respect the environment, read your owner’s manual and wear proper protective gear and helmet. Ride within your limits, not over them.

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019

FREE WHEELIN’ BRIAN RATHJEN

The Road WhispeReR We rolled into a small, but perfect, hotel for groups looking to ride the region in and around Davis, West Virginia.

We were on our way to the BMW MOA Rally in Lebanon, Tennessee, and our rooms were across the parking lot from a group of riders from Maine, who had the same eventual destinations as us.

As like-minded riders will do we began to banter with them and they told us they were taking their time rolling south, as this part of West Virginia had so much to offer sport-minded motorcycle riders.

“Besides,” added one guy, “We have him…”

He pointed to another one of their group out on the far side of the lot talking on his cell.

“That’s Doug… he is a Road Whisperer,” he said, almost with a reverence.

“Really, and how is that?” I asked.

“Well, he finds roads that nobody else knows about. They are almost always curvy, empty of police and just fun to ride. He has… abilities.”

Road Whisperer? I liked it right away.

The next morning at breakfast I walked over to their table and got introduced to Doug, a smiling and affable man.

“Doug, I heard they call you a Road Whisperer?”

He laughed a bit and said he does enjoy finding enjoyable roads.

I totally understood as I have known a few Road Whisperers in my day.

Almost to a rider they have the same easy-going way about them.

I asked Doug what his secret was?

Part of it was that he lives in Maine and he has a lot of time over the winter

Page 3 to research regions, study maps and follow a general formula.

A lot of time, they all concurred.

Quietly I said… “Rivers, railroads, odd named towns?”

He smiled – not going to give too much up in front of his followers.

But, he did look me straight in the eyes and said, “I think you understand how this all works.”

It almost felt like an old western where two gunslingers are eyeing each other out or maybe it was like two Jedi acknowledging each other.

Not all who read a map or plot a route for themselves or friends is a Road Whisperer. To some it comes naturally, others have to learn to Whisper. Some will never be a Road Whisperer.

If the rider plotting a route simply brings you on roads known to all, or that he rides all the time – they are not Whispering; they simply know some great local roads and anyone paying attention should learn these.

No… a Road Whisperer can get into maps and mapping programs and see what others do not. Where some see the pleasant, but common, state road that passes around the mountain or through the valley, a Road Whisperer spots the smaller and more technical macadam that passes over the hill and along the ridge looking down into the valley. Where some riders look from Point A to Point B, the Road Whisperer brings the rest of the alphabet into his mix.

The first Road Whisperer I ever met was Jon Kadis, who was the road captain for the Sport Touring Motorcycle Club back in the 90s and one of the most solid guys I have ever known.

Jon could turn the simplest ride into an adventure and he was the guy who showed me… what real backroads were.

If you followed Jon into town for supplies, or a restaurant, it may be an hour or so before you got back – but, you surely ran along some wonderfully interesting roads to and from.

Continued on Page 7

Page 4

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

WHATCHATHINKIN’ SHIRA KAMIL

URge foR going I’d like to call back summertime and have her stay for just another month or so But she’s got the urge for going so I guess she’ll have to go She gets the urge for going when the meadow grass is turning brown And all her empires are falling down - Joni Mitchell And winter’s closing in It is my morning ritual, once the chill is gone and the greens start to pop up from the ground, to make my first cup of coffee and head out to water the crops. Don’t get the misconception that I’m heading out to the back forty; it’s a couple of simple raised beds filled with basil, peppers and some herbs, with the errant odd plant that looks nice so I leave it be. As the spring and summer progress and the plants do their thing, I tend to make a circuit before watering and give them all a little pep talk. ‘Hey Jasmine, you are looking fabulous and you smell heavenly.’

‘Don’t worry, Hydrangeas, maybe this will be the year you actually bloom.’

‘My, my, my peppery friends, aren’t you tall and abundant this year.’

Then I’ll sit and watch as the hummingbirds circle and fight around the feeder and the Monarch butterflies flit from flower to flower, touching down every so lightly to syphon up the nectar. It’s a marvelous and peaceful way to start the day and sets a very even and pleasant tone for the rest of the day.

Around this time of year, the sunlight comes a bit later, the chill takes a bit

longer to disperse and the crops and plants are heading into their farewell tour. I still do my circuit, but now I am bidding them adieu, thanking them for the fragrant and bountiful company over the last few months and wishing them a short winter’s rest.

It’s also about this time of year when riders in the northeast are heading into their waning months of good weather riding. September and October are two of the best months to be out on the road, putting miles under your wheels. The kids are back in school, the vacationers are off the roads and the temperatures are optimal. If you have a hankering to head to the beaches, they are pretty empty and rooms are readily available. Point the bike towards the mountains and you’ll find a crispness in the air, the trees all ablaze in radiant colors and those curvaceous roads wide open (during the week, at least).

If you’d like to keep a hold on summer just a bit longer, mosey down south – Kentucky and Tennessee are phenomenal for two-wheeled excursions.

Personally, I feel the urge for going even more so at this time of year. Hopefully the spring and summer have been packed full of long road trips, rallies and other explorations, filling the hopper with fodder for the leaner upcoming months.

September finds us heading to VIR for our annual soiree with Reg Pridmore and his folks from CLASS. Each year, Reg says it’s the last time he’ll head east with his wisdom, and so far he has been a liar.

Hopefully this will remain true for a few more years.

September is also the time for our Fall Fiesta with, what will probably be, the last time we’ll see most of our riding friends gathered in one spot this year. As much as we all try to get together for that impromptu ride, it gets more and more difficult to organize – when did spontaneity disappear?

For many years, October was the time to head to Chincoteague, VA for Continued on Page 7

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BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019

Page 5

POSTCARDS FROM THE HEDGE BILL HEALD

don’T Ride angRy “People who fly into a rage always make a bad landing.”

- Will Rogers

I’ve noticed something: No. Really. I’ve observed it so many times I’ve decided it’s a Thing. I’m talking about the vibe I get these days that there are a lot of very angry people about. The reasons why they are a tad irate are many, and while I would enjoy giving you yet another opinion of why “the mood of the populace is less than optimal,” the reasons why are actually not relevant to this discussion. But the anger itself is problematic, and I want to address why getting pissed off while operating heavy machinery is never a good idea (and REALLY bad news if you’re on your motorcycle). It’s always been a concern when we ride where there are automobiles, trucks, lorries, utes, Jeeps and farm machinery sharing the road that the operators might be less than attentive, and this has only become worse thanks to the advancement of technology. When you take the distractions of cell phones, touch screens, texting and assorted navigation activities and throw in an angry operator, those formerly hazardous boulevards have become even more dangerous for the likes of us.

Oddly enough, it’s not these creatures I’m concerned with the most, though. It’s ourselves. We are all different of course, and when it comes to something like temperament and anger management we can differ wildly in our reactions to life’s irritants. In my case, I think I have to look at my grandfather to explain my reaction to volatile situations

because, while my father was a very calm person who rarely, if ever, flew off the handle, my Grand had a genuine doomsday switch if things got past a certain point. He was a man who had to deal with all kinds of people, from scientists on expeditions to roughnecks in oil fields to ultimately corporate types in the boardrooms of major petroleum concerns. He would put up with all kinds of BS up to a pretty extreme level, then if someone stepped over the line, rather than argue, he would just deck them. Argument over. As he aged this tendency disappeared, largely I believe through his study of the Bible as well as Yoga.

He was in many ways a complex, introspective person.

In my case, I apparently have a similar gene and have some of that hostility buried deep but it can appear if I don’t keep my wits.

Part of the problem with my moto mood is I definitely ride more aggressively than I drive (be it an automobile, truck, lorry, ute, Jeep or farm machinery) and I do this because, on a motorcycle in traffic, I always like to try and have space around me, meaning I tend to overtake rather than trail a car in the interest of having more control of the situation. I mention this because in heavy traffic/urban situations your mental machinery is already amped up a bit, and often this means the emotional side as well. So when somebody in a Jeep Wrangler pulls a genuine bonehead move in traffic, it might tweak the ol’ temper a bit. Add the combination of having spent a long day on the road and arriving in an unfamiliar town or city that you’re trying to navigate through for the first time, plus rain or hot weather, and you have all the makings for a very short fuse. You have to keep your anger at bay, for it’s the kind of thing that can really ruin your day.

It does harm on so many levels when you get all aggro, for you essentially throw your judgment, awareness, common sense and ability to improvise in nasty traffic situations to the four winds. True confession: I’ve met some Continued on Page 7

Page 6

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

ON THE MARK MARK ByERS

The CUlTURe Two of my employees, Ben and Matt, just became first-time motorcyclists. They took the MSF class at the same time and emerged with their licenses. Matt already had a bike, a beautiful, low-mileage ’09 Suzuki SV-650S that I almost fought with him over. I took Ben shopping and he fell in love with a year-old Honda Rebel 500 in all black, which looks much more badass than it actually is, but on which he is very comfortable and competent. I took them both gear shopping and thanks to Morton’s BMW, they’re kitted out with excellent gear.

One of the things they’re both starting to grasp is that motorcycling is not just something to do, it’s a culture. For most of us who read this magazine, motorcycling isn’t a “sport.” We don’t take our bikes out of the garage like tennis rackets to “play” with them, only to hang them on the wall later to gather dust: we ride them for any number of reasons, and while recreation is an element, it certainly isn’t the only thing that blows our kilts skyward. For those immersed in The Culture, motorcycling is everything from transportation to fellowship to gastronomy.

Their first clue about The Culture was at Morton’s, where owner Jeff came out to give them an enthusiastic greeting and two guys with full knowledge of the apparel they carried ensured their gear was an excellent fit. Ben was shocked to be offered a test ride on a G310 despite the fact that he’d just gotten his license two weeks before. He was flabbergasted that apparel specialist Pat suggested he test-ride the gear at the same time as the bike, even though he’d yet to decide to buy anything. At the other shops to which he’d been, test rides of any kind were out of the question.

Their next initiations into The Culture began with the food rides. After the shopping trips, both for bikes and gear, stops at small-but-excellent barbecue and seafood places were in order. One night, Ben and I munched on fresh

striper and watched the sun sinking lower over the wide Potomac’s Virginia shore, reflecting on the highly-polished surfaces of the bikes. I explained that riding is an excellent way to find out-of-the-way “hole in the wall” spots to eat and both guys are quick to grasp that concept.

It goes beyond Ben and Matt. At the Summer Squeeze, we had Joe, a relatively new rider (of about a month) join us as a guest of David and Alma. I think Joe was impressed and even a little surprised with how he was welcomed into the group. It can be intimidating to jump into riding with a bunch of seasoned folks who also know each other well socially, but he was made to feel at home. Byrd and I made a point of riding with him on the second day, where I shared an ice cream with him at the Vermont Country Store, we all had an excellent lunch at the Grafton General Store, and concluded the day’s ride with a stop at a maple syrup farm. We were careful to keep our pace sane and Joe was mature and skilled with his riding.

One thing Joe observed was that we’re all serious about our riding gear, another part of The Culture, and that we didn’t need to try to prove how fast we could ride. Joe (mostly willingly) absorbed a lot of lore and advice about riding over an excellent barbecue dinner (that eating thing again). We capped off the evening of culture sipping good bourbon on the porch of the Gray Ghost while Jon and Roy serenaded us on the acoustic guitar and harmonica, respectively. One of Joe’s comments was, “I wish I could get my son interested in coming along” and another was “I think my wife would really like this too.”

I rankle when people talk about motorcycling as “a sport” because it’s so much more than that. There’s an ethos about motorcycling that starts with what we put on to ride, involves to where we ride and with whom, and extends to the après-ride fellowship, dining, entertainment, and enjoyment of each other’s company. Out on the road, most of us wave to each other out of a show of brotherhood to others facing the same challenges. We stop to check on other motorcyclists stopped alongside the road. You don’t get that on four wheels. There’s also an element of education, where we pass down what we hope are good habits and techniques like the hula is passed down from generation to generation.

Ben, Matt, and Joe: welcome to The Culture. You’re a part of it now.

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019 fRee Wheelin’

Page 7 Continued from Page 3

The best Kadis moment for me was in Africa when he adamantly argued with the South African tour operator about how to get to the next town.

The guide said this way.

Jon argued he was fairly confident it was that way.

Jon rode his ride and disappeared over the hill and we, foolishly, followed the guide in the other direction.

A half hour later we rode back past the same spot the squabble happened and followed Jon’s wake about 60 kilometers to the hotel where Jon was already showered and enjoying a cocktail on the veranda.

The guide bought the first round for all that night and a second for Mr. Kadis, whom he never questioned again.

Over the years I have run into a few other Road Whisperers and I know some local northeast club events that surely were created by some Whisperers.

When you need to get to somewhere do you look for the easiest line on the map or, worse, let your GPS plot it for you? Or, are you a Road Whisperer.

If not… you could become one.

WhaTChaThinkin’

Continued from Page 4

their annual Oyster Festival. This year will be their 47th and I hope that things work out for us to attend their fun and eating festivities. If they don’t, you can bet that we’ll make one last trip to Maryland, or wherever we might find some beautiful swimmers, for a last toast to summer.

During the winter I make a list of the things I’d like to do and places I’d like to visit. At this time I’m looking back at that list and seeing how many I’ve actually done.

If I could only be in 10 places at the same time I’m sure the accomplished list would be much longer, but I have to satisfy myself with doing the best I can. I swear that next year I am going to get to more baseball stadiums before the boys of summer are gone.

I sit here watching the hummingbirds slurping up the last of the sugar water for their long flight to Mexico and sing in my head ‘they’ve got the urge for going and they’ve got the wings so they can go.’ We’ve got the urge for going and we’ve got the wheels so we can go… posTCaRds fRom The hedge Continued from Page 5 drivers that I’ve wanted to toss into the sheep dip, and hope they never surface. I’ve felt the overwhelming desire to teach evildoers a lesson, and win a small victory for mankind. But the fact is, this is a ridiculous thing to strive for when you really have no way of making it happen. Outrunning somebody that’s clearly messing with you, cutting somebody off that cut you off like you’re driving a Hummer instead of a Harley, and you’ve already embarrassed yourself instead of acting like a competent, well-trained motorcyclist. You’re also putting your life in danger, and if I see somebody pull this crap when they have a passenger, well, let me introduce you to my grandfather. Hey, I really understand the desire to pound a vile, dangerous driver into the turf and I would never have brought this topic up if I didn’t need to do it to remind myself to chill, and remind my fellow riders. Oh, and how do you chill? I don’t know you, your personality, or your temperament. But I know when it comes to this subject there IS a way to learn to maintain your composure, for so many have found a path that works. In my case, it has helped to look East, and use a spiritual exercise like the various manifestations of Tai Chi to ground myself a bit. When a potential flare up of moto-anger appears, I can draw on that state I get when doing these simple, elegant (and very beneficial for flexibility & balance) exercises and it works wonders. This helps during other kinds of stress, too.

Hey, it’s just one of a million different ways to keep the Beast asleep, and keep you focused on riding safely and enjoying the bliss the machine supplies. It’s one of those

things that helps in every aspect of life, too. In these times, we could all use something that lowers the blood pressure a bit, yes? Of course. In the classic film Goldfinger, James Bond is tempted to chase down a woman in a convertible who nearly puts him in a ditch but he chills out by telling himself, “Discipline, 007.” Hey if he can do it. . .

Page 8

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

BACKLASH

Letters to the Editor

OMG I made the paper! ...but not the way my Mother said I would.

Scott Brian, Forgot to compliment you on the August issue. I always thought the Boxer Cup models were some of the best looking BMWs produced. And the artwork you used was spectacular.

Keep up the great work.

Aaron E Zimmermann Backroads, I just read Bill Heald’s article about motorcycle riding, George Clooney and his crash and the fact that Clooney was NOT riding in the State of Connecticut, which does not require that anyone over the age of 21 wear a helmet.

I have been riding motorcycles since the age of 16 which is now close to 50 years.

Thank God I have always worn a helmet because it has saved my life a couple of times and will never understand why our politicians decided that it would be okay to allow those who have no idea what will happen to them in an accident, not to.

These riders were allowed to have the common sense laws changed and thus force our police, fire, ambulance, hospitals, families and the brain in-

jured riders or those who have been added to our state’s fatalities and ride without a helmet.

I was a police officer over 20 years as well as a volunteer fire fighter and ambulance technician and have been dispatched to far too many motorcycle accidents, which usually was not the fault of the bike’s drivers. I have seen far too many horrible crash scenes, have had to try to hold a rider on the ground after hitting their head on a windshield while not wearing a helmet all the while waiting for Lifestar to land knowing that this patient probably would not make it and if they did, they would be a vegetable from the brain damage all because they refused to wear a helmet.

I have had to hold loved one’s hands as they discussed their loss of a loved one all because that person wanted wind in their hair. Why not just jump out of an airplane without a chute, you would get the same feeling and outcome!?

When will our elected officials wake up and realize that some laws are there to protect those who need to be protected. We all are required to wear seat belts and in all my years in Law Enforcement I have had to unbuckle a deceased person only once.

So many have been saved thanks to the seatbelt laws and campaigns. Wake up officials and reenact the old helmet laws to protect so many from the horrible effects of a head hitting anything. Just drop a melon from waist height if you want to see a head unprotected!

Reggi Patchell

1269 DOLSONTOWN RD MIDDLETOWN NY 10940

845-343-2552 • WWW.CYCLEMOTIONINC.COM Cycle Motion is your provider of motorcycles, ATVs, scooters, and utility vehicles by Kawasaki, Suzuki, Polaris, yamaha and Can-Am. With a large parts department, qualified service technicians and a full shop of parts and accessories, we're here to meet all your power sport needs.

Brian & Shira The weird machine you came across on Route 125 is a crop sprayer, used for liquid fertilizer, pesticides and herbicides. Most have GPS guidance systems to avoid over or under application. Some even have hydraulically adjustable height for clearance over higher crops like corn. Booms on the sides contain spray nozzles and fold out over to provide a working width of up to 60 ft.

For every rider - on or off road, whether they like doing it in the dirt, carving the twisties, or cruising the backroads, we have their weapon of choice.

Attached is a photo of me and my CB500X “emerging” from under my boss’s “Prowler”.

How old is Spenser T. Cat? Jake Herzog Thanks Jake – Spenser T. Cat is six years young!

Hi Brian & Shira, Hope you are getting some excellent riding in this summer.

I am not sure I am recalling this correctly, but …

I believe t’was your magazine that ran an article several years ago on a local airport in PA somewhere where they take you up in a Stearman or other bi-wings. My son and I went several years ago, recall it being a pleasant drive, and I was thinking of maybe taking a ride out there this Thursday. Michaella and I are looking to do a ¾ day ride someplace.

Don’t waste a lot of time wracking your brains on this, but if it immediately comes to mind, I’d appreciate the name. Also, my son got his MC endorsement too, so now the whole family rides Thanks a bunch, Craig Grant

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019 The family that rides together…. We believe you are talking about Van Sant Airport, in Bucks County, PA. Great Motorcycle hang-out as well.

Brian, I’ve been receiving Backroads Magazine for a while now. I don’t know what kind of comments people usually make about advertising and advertisers, but I love the advertising! I actually read the ads with interest, and there’s something about Backroads being local that is just so nice. It does not take much for me to visit some of the places you write about and get out exploring myself.

I don’t know how you find content for your magazine. Do you accept ‘articles’ from riders? Can I submit material for your approval for the magazine?

I used to have a Byline in a local motorcycle magazine and I enjoyed writing articles. I was just wondering if I sent you something now and then - would you be interested?

Lori Weiniger Lori, We wish every advertiser, or potential advertiser, would take your words to heart! Indeed we take submissions. You can find our guidelines on our website www.backroadsusa.com/writersguideline.html Backroads, Hi Brian. I just received the package you sent with the Backroads stickers and guitar picks. Thank you! I will strum them with pride! Also, my new Backroads issue arrived at the same time. I was pleased to see you were able to make use of my lightning pic taken from the Amishview Inn Cheers, and thanks again!

Bruce Brown Hello, Please send me your trip route along the historic PA anthracite coal belt, including the Molly Maguires statue and also any other sites of historic significance that you may know about. I’m overdue for a trip up that way, as I grew up not too far from the Wyoming Valley. I’m also planning to stop at

Page 9 the Lackawanna coal mine tour and also the #9 coal mine museum in Lansford.

Thanks very much and have a great week!

William K Denton • Yardley, PA William - Look for all this in an upcoming edition

10th Summer Squeeze I choose not to quote the Grateful Dead, what a long wonderful trip it’s been. 10 years of Summer Squeeze meant even more years of going to the Gray Ghost for me. Watching Carina’s lovely little girls grow into these elegant young ladies was mind-blowing. It’s been such a joy to socialize with all of the regulars and meet the “newbies”. I loved taking rides with different people and get to hear their stories. Here’s to another 10 (or more) years of Squeezing in Vermont.

Regards, BYRD I had a very nice time. Thanks for all the effort you put into these events.

You guys are magnets that attract the nicest folks!

Larry Backroads, Have you heard anything new about the Chatterbox/WAWA site, in Augusta, New Jersey?mNow that QuickChek built on the opposite corner, it wouldn’t seem to make sense for them to follow through.

Robert Binetti Robert, Interestingly enough... we ran into Don Hall, the owner, and he told us they are just waiting on a variance from the town and that Wawa is still happening. Go figure.

What a shame that someone with vision and a restaurant background did not swoop in and keep this place going. Although we understand why Don sold we still think the closing of the Chatterbox is a tremendous loss for our

Page 10

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

IN DU STRY INFOBITES TRADE WARS HEAT UP An ongoing trade war continues to escalate, and with motorcycles once again caught in the crosshairs, whatever the outcome the cost of motorcycles is likely to go up. Trade tensions between the European Union (EU) and the United States involving ongoing disputes regarding aircraft subsidies has led the Trump Administration to respond with $11 billion in proposed EU tariffs, including many motorcycles imported from countries in the EU. The U.S. Trade Representative (USTR) has proposed 100% duties on motorcycles 500-700cc, as well as “parts and accessories for motorcycles (including mopeds).” (HTS subheadings 8711.40.30 and 8714.10.00).

The retaliatory tariffs could have far-reaching consequences for Europeanbased motorcycle manufacturers, including Ducati, BMW, Husqvarna, KTM, Triumph and Vespa.

BaCklash Continued from Page 9 region on every level.

Jumboland and Skyland Beer & Wine Garden all have great bike nights happening now in this part of New Jersey!

Hi Brian: Is it possible to get a reprint or link on the article you did on the Monkey in the August 2019 edition?

I run an MSF motorcycle school at Montclair State University and we have a Monkey in our training fleet. I believe we are the only ones in the country, so far, that use the Monkey.

I’m trying to get Honda to put the Monkey in their Loaner Program for

News from the Inside As of now, the product list is “preliminary”, and riders are urged to make their voices heard.

FEMA WARNS: “BE PREPARED FOR ELECTRIC BIKES!” “In about ten years it will probably not be possible to buy a motorcycle with an internal combustion engine in most, if not all, European countries,” warns Dolf Willigers of the Federation of European Motorcyclists’ Associations (FEMA).

Based upon information gathered during Sustainable Energy Week in Brussels, consisting of three days of presentations about how to make our society more sustainable; “When you think about future transport, think electric. Not biofuels, not hydrogen, certainly not carbon-based fuels, but electric batterypowered vehicles is what we can expect.”

Transport is seen as a big contributor to the greenhouse effect. According to the EFA, the European Environment Agency, road transport emits nearly 21% of the EU’s total emissions of carbon dioxide (CO2), the main greenhouse gas. Both the European Union and countries inside and outside the EU want ‘climate-neutral’ transport in 2050. “This looks far away,” says Willigers, “but remember that cars, the largest part of the vehicles, in Europe training sites. It’s a great training bike and as you stated in your article, a great beginner bike. We like it better than the Grom. I would like to send the article to the people at Honda.

Regards, Dave Bellizzi • The Riding Academy of NJ Dave, This issue is online now - you can find it here: issuu.com/backroadsmagazine/docs/august2019web A number of copies are sent to American Honda in Torrance, CA – but now that it’s online feel free to grab it and to lobby for The Monkey Bike! It is a great bike for first time riders!

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019 have an average lifespan of about twenty years. To have all cars on the road emission free in 2050 means that cars that do emit CO2 should no longer be on the market after 2030. Now it suddenly gets closer.” According to Williger, in just over ten years, there should be a complete transition from cars with a (carbon-based fuel) internal combustion engine to battery-electric powered cars.

Already the governments of Denmark, Germany, Ireland, India, Israel, Netherlands and Sweden have announced that they will ban the sale of new ‘carbon-fueled’ cars from 2030. France, China and the UK have announced to stop the sale of new cars with an internal combustion engine from 2040.

On the other hand, Norway wants to ban the sale of these cars already from 2025. “Indeed, I’m talking about cars, not about motorcycles,” Williger explains, “But let’s be realistic: when the sale cars with an internal combustion engine will be stopped after 2030, in one country (the Netherlands) also the sale of mopeds with an internal combustion engine, how big will the chance be that an exception will be made for motorcycles?”

MIC LAUNCHES INITIATIVE TO INSIPRE NEW RIDERS The Motorcycle Industry Council (MIC) has announced a broad, long-term initiative to bring more people into the world of motorcycling.

“It’s clear the industry needs to reach and inspire new customers. While many of us, with our individual businesses, have taken steps to grow ridership, we also should be working together, and the MIC wants to help make that happen,” said Paul Vitrano, MIC board chair and senior assistant general counsel at Indian Motorcycle and Polaris Inc. “To help us fully understand the barriers to entry, and to create an inclusive strategic plan to conquer those barriers that will be available to all stakeholders, we have partnered with a team of researchers and strategists to bring fresh perspectives to this challenge and opportunity.”

To initiate this strategic plan, the MIC has hired consulting firm Centauric LLC to lead the first phase of this initiative. “Centauric has committed an impressive multi-disciplinary team of behavioral scientists, engineers, and business consultants, and takes a unique approach to problem-solving. We are excited to be working with them on this critical initiative,” Vitrano said.

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The plan will be presented at the MIC’s American International Motorcycle Expo (AIMExpo) in Columbus, Ohio, September 26-29, 2019.

“This is not designed to be a quick fix, nor is it just about sales,” said Chuck Boderman, MIC vice chair, and vice president, motorcycle division, American Honda Motor Co., Inc. “It’s about showing people how motorcycles can fit into and enrich their lives, no matter where they live, what they do, what their hobbies are, or how old or young they are. This will take time, so we are committed to building a campaign that takes the long view… and how united as one, we can attract new riders to motorcycling.”

Backroads will be attending AIMExpo and will report back on their plans.

DON’T SUFFER FROM FOMO GO TO OUR FACEBOOK PAGE AND FOLLOW US FOR UP-TO-THE-MINUTE NEWS • IMPROMPTU RIDES www.facebook.com/pages Backroads-Motorcycle-Touring-Magazine

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OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

Frontline Eurosports Presents

B IG CITY GETAWAY

daytrip ideas to get out of the daily grind

The glove mUseUm 2155 sTaTe RoUTe 165, doRloo, ny • TheglovemUseUm.Com SEASONAL HOURS: NOON TO 4PM SATURDAY-SUNDAY • CALL TO BOOK TOUR We have ridden in and around Cooperstown, NY many a time – we’ve even held a rally on the shores of Otsego Lake. The Baseball Hall of Fame is a huge draw for this area, as are Howe Caverns and the National Bottle Museum. Dr. O’Life has sent us in search of the Cardiff Giant at the Farmer’s Museum. But now there is another reason to take the beautiful ride – Daniel Storto’s Glove Museum.

Daniel, born in Toronto, was raised in an Italian immigrant family of tailors and cobblers. He took the path of glove making, a gantier, and before making his way to Dorloo, NY he was the last glove maker in Gloversville, NY – a town whose name came from the plethora of glove makers residing there.

Found in the foothills of the Adirondacks, tanneries sprung up due to the groves of hemlocks surrounding the area – their tannins used for the reddishbrown hue - which supplied the glove makers. From 1890 to 1950, Gloversville produced 90 percent of all gloves made in the United States.

With the advent of manufacturing jobs moving offshore and formal leather gloves becoming outdated, the population of Gloversville fell and the factories all closed.

In an 1852 Methodist church set in a bucolic setting, you’ll find Daniel’s transformation of the only free-standing glove museum in the U.S. Daniel acquired most of the tools and materials from the defunct Gloversville factories. Along with his own collection of glove making artistry, literature and artifacts, he has set up a most eclectic, informative and inspiring showcase for what has become a dying art.

We were greeted by the soundtrack to Chinatown that filled this acoustical cavern, as Daniel came to welcome us into his sanctuary. The space alone is electric, with the original stained glass windows and pews setting the stage for the collision of old and

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019

Page 13 new. You’ll find glove forms, wooden patterns, glove irons and cutting blocks mixed in with some of Daniel’s own designs and creations from his years in New York, Los Angeles and abroad, working in the fashion industry and Hollywood. As you make your way through the pews to the altar, you’ll pass a display of hand-sewn Italian lambskin gloves, seemingly reaching to the heavens, inspired by the wooden sculptures of Modernist artist Louise Nevelson. The altar space, where the organ once stood, contains bookshelves packed with art books and typewriters. Daniel has offered up his wide collection – his Bibles, as it were – to those wishing to learn this dying trade, as well as other fashion and design information. His hopes are for students to have access to information not offered in the general libraries – which are also a dying breed. Sprinkled amongst this research material are monographs on Salvador Dali, Richard Avedon and Coco Chanel and, under the saintly statues sits The A B C of Millinery.

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OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

As you continue around the hallowed halls, you’ll find a pique machine, which added the detailing to the gloves.

‘The more detailed the embroidery, the higher the status of the glove’s owners,’ Daniel informed us. In fact, with every glimpse you will be rewarded with views into the past that will keep this amazing artistry alive in today’s world.

For me, the pieces de resistance are Daniel’s Text Gloves. Remember those typewriters I mentioned earlier? Well, they are in working order and Daniel uses them to type directly onto the leather then carefully hand sews each pair into the most beautiful pieces of wearable art I have ever seen. He also

hand prints, and such is the case with his Carey gloves, with lyrics

by Joni Mitchell, done in 1983.

Moving into the inner sanctum, Daniel’s workshop resides in the Sunday school classroom and is filled with those pieces that are of special value. For our visit, he had a pair of old-time motorcycle glove/mittens on display. There is a pair of 16th-century French gloves received as a gift, and the walls are lined with glove boxes collected from the factories in Gloversville. There are tiny dies used for children’s and doll’s gloves, a glove fitting device and seemingly endless trinkets and collectibles, making the space take on the appearance of a movie set. In the back of the room resides Daniel’s workbench – his altar, as it were. Here the magic is done, with hand cut and sewn couture gloves made using his heavy mallets.

You may order a pair of these magnificent gloves, which sell for upwards of several hundred dollars, and are worth every penny.

There is no admission, as Daniel wants to share and educate his visitors, but donations are welcome and will reward you with a pair of cloth gloves of Daniel’s making. Be prepared to spend more time than you realize, as this look into an art of the past and the passion of one man’s life is absolutely fascinating.

Here is a 145-mile one-way ride from Homer’s Diner, Port Jervis, NY to the Glove Museum, Dorloo, NY. There are many lodging options in the area – make it an overnight and extend the riding pleasure. www.sendspace.com/filegroup/dcle4Cn96ggxa5aBQ8bxpa This gives you the option of a route with or without (smooth) waypoints

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G REAT A LL AMERICA N DINE R RUN

tasty places to take your bike

denson’s gRoCeRy and oysTeR BaR 117 WashingTon ave, Colonial BeaCh, va 22443 804-224-4121 • densonsgRoCeRy.Com HOURS: THURS-SAT. 11AM-2PM FOR LUNCH AND 5-8PM FOR DINNER While spending a delightful overnight in the throwback town of Colonial Beach, VA, we paid a visit to the Chamber of Commerce, just a few doors from our lodging at the Riverview Inn. Speaking with Susan and MaryAnn, we asked for suggestions of things to see and do as well as dining choices. MaryAnn recommended High Tides for lunch, as it sits on the beach and Susan highly recommended Denson’s Grocery. She expounded on their farm-to-table freshness and how wonderful and welcoming owners Blaire and Rocky are. We nodded and said we’d try it for dinner. ‘Oh, you probably won’t get in on a Friday night,’ she continued. Hmmm, that sounds like a challenge to me. I filed it in my Rolodex of restaurants and we continued our walk around the town. After lunch on our walk back to the hotel, we passed Denson’s, which was closed between lunch and dinner. I pulled out my cell and dialed up the reservation number, leaving a message for a table for two for that night. About an hour later I received a call from Blaire confirming that they did have availability at 7 and did we have any food concerns. ‘Um, no, we eat pretty much anything,’ I answered.

‘Great, we’ll see you at 7.’

A bit of history, as this part of Virginia is fully packed with that. Denson’s was originally established in 1912 as the local market. Rocky Denson is third generation and he and his wife Blaire opened their reimagined grocery in 2011 with a focus on Chesapeake Bay farm to table fare as well as specialty grocery items. The front houses the deli counter and kitchen with the seating area cozily tucked in the next room. In 2013 they introduced R&B Oyster Bar serving up the freshest and plumpest East Coast oysters they can find. When the weather is beautiful, their outdoor patio is crankin’.

We arrived for our reservation and Blaire said there would be a little bit of a wait.

Rocky and the kitchen crew prepare each dish to order and there is never a push to ‘turn the tables’ so wait we did, with the offered glass of wine and the perusal of the fares in the market area. We did take a peak at the menu to tickle our appetites.

When we were seated, we were ready to order: an appetizer of the special crab and country ham deviled eggs, a dozen assorted grilled oysters (Rockefeller, Denson’s Style and Cackalacky), a cup of Northern Neck oyster stew, half a pound of peel & eat shrimp and an order of Carolina white shrimp stuffed with their award winning crab cake, fried and drizzled with sweet chili sauce with a side of seedless cu-

cumber/sweet onion/watermelon salad and crispy Brussels Sprouts with balsamic reduction. Yes, that does sound like quite a bit for two, but when the menu is so enticing it is hard to choose so we got it all (and finished pretty much everything).

I could go into detail on each dish, but that would go on far too long, so let me just say that EVERYTHING was delicious and beautifully presented. The

Page 16 oyster stew was jam-packed with big oysters, the shrimp sweet and the crab extraordinary. For those not knowing what Cackalacky is (neither did we), it’s a nickname for Carolina, where Blaire called home, and a mildly spiced sweet potato-based sauce from the Cackalacky Spice Company. As for the Denson’s Style grilled oysters, that would be topped with a blend of butter, garlic and herbs and finished with Parmesan cheese (my particular favorite). We sat and savored our meal over another glass of wine, telling each other we couldn’t possibly eat another bite but when offered dessert, which included farm-fresh ice cream from Trickling Springs ice cream out of Chambersburg, PA, I knew I was doomed.

While enjoying our dessert, Rocky stopped by the table and we had a very nice chat. He is a self-taught chef coming from a financial services background who spent his youth in his family-owned market. He’s been awarded many times over including one of the 18 Best Seafood Restaurants in Virginia in 2017. He enjoys working with the watermen and farmers to serve the freshest ingredients he can (the mantra of Denson’s is ‘fresh, never frozen’) and just helped to pass a bill to allow restaurants to serve the nonnative snakehead fish.

The snakehead is thought to have been brought in to the US to be sold in Asian markets and ‘escaped’ into the waters with dire consequences. The invasive species is eating its way through the Potomac and other waterways, but apparently, when cleaned and cooked properly (they’ll be offering it as an appetizer with a remoulade dip), it is a delish, white meat compared

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

to mahi-mahi. Unfortunately, the name tends to set people off, so perhaps a rebranding to ‘Maryland’s Mahi’ would be more enticing.

When visiting Colonial Beach, which we highly recommend, make sure to secure a table for lunch or dinner at Denson’s Grocery. They have a very nice selection of wines and beers to enjoy with your freshly prepared and most delicious meal. They also have a walk-up ice cream window if you just happen to be passing by and need a little sugar pick-me-up.

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Morton’s BMW Motorcycles Presents Dr. Seymour O’Life’s MY STERIO U S A MER IC A The manTell inCidenT Recently there have been headlines and lots of video to be seen of US Navy pilots encountering, well, something in the sky.

The Pentagon is now encouraging their pilots to actively report such events, but they are trying to back away from the X-File and The Day the Earth Stood Still flavor of the common phrase UFO – as they feel it makes them look less than serious.

But, they are very serious.

Instead, they are asking their pilots to use phrases such as “unexplained aerial phenomena,” “unidentified aircraft,” “unauthorized aircraft,” and, perhaps most intriguing, “suspected incursions.”

I think they are more worried about something the Russians or Chinese might come up with, more than they are Marvin the Martian.

Still, all this had a beginning…

On a small side road along the Kentucky/Tennessee border, around the block from the Cracker Barrel, there stands a Historic Marker that tells the beginnings of the UFO phenomenon.

Let me tell you of a young pilot named Thomas Mantell.

The F-51D Mustang came plummeting out of the sky like a sick bird. At the last second, it tried to pull out of its fatal dive, but it was too late. Nine thousand pounds of steel, glass, and rubber disintegrated in the air then slammed into the ground.

The wings and tail tore off and were thrown thousands of feet from the body of the aircraft. When the smoking fuselage finally came to rest on a farm field in Franklin, Kentucky, Air Force Captain Thomas F. Mantell, a pilot with 2867 hours of flight experience, was dead.

But why did he die?

The story starts several hours earlier on January 7th, 1948, at 1:45 P.M. Calls had been coming into the Godman Air Force Base in Kentucky from nearby Fort Knox about a UFO. Sargent Quinton Blackwell, chief operator at the Godman control tower, had just spotted the object himself. Later he recalled that it resembled “an ice cream cone topped with red.” The tower crew called the operations officer, Captain Gary Carter, and pointed the object out to him. Carter, in turn, called Colonel Guy Hix, the commanding officer.

At 2:20 PM a flight of four F-51D aircraft approached Godman en-route from Marietta AFB to Standiford AFB. The flight, led by Captain Mantell, was requested by the Godman tower to investigate the object. Mantell agreed and started climbing. Two other Mustangs went with him. The fourth, low on fuel, continued on to Standiford.

At 14,000 feet Mantell reported, “The object is directly ahead of me and above me now, moving at about half my speed.”

The three planes rose together nearing 22,000 feet. Because the air is so thin at high altitudes, pilots in planes with non-pressurized cabins operating above 14,000 feet are required to use oxygen masks. Without supplementary oxygen, a pilot can became delirious and blackout. Two of the Mustangs broke off the pursuit because their oxygen tanks were low. Mantell, apparently believing he was getting enough oxygen, kept going.

Around 3:15 some of the tower crew thought they heard Mantell say, “It appears to be a metallic object or possible reflections of the sun from a metallic object, and it is of tremendous size. I’m still climbing, the object is above

and ahead of me moving at my speed or faster. I’m trying to close for a better look.”

Further messages from the pilot were garbled and shortly afterward all contact was lost. At 3:50 PM the Godman tower lost sight of the UFO, too.

At about 5 PM the remains of Mantell’s plane was found scattered across a farm. The Air Force investigation determined that Mantell had probably lost consciousness, due to lack of oxygen when his plane hit 25,000 feet. The aircraft may have continued to climb till it reached 30,000 feet, its limit, then nosedived. As it raced toward the ground Mantell may have recovered his senses and tried to pull up, but it was too late.

The forces of the dive were too high and the plane came apart while still in the air and slammed into the front lawn of a farmhouse near Franklin, Kentucky. But in the days that followed the tragedy, sensational headlines fueled everyone’s worst fears about flying saucers, and the Mantell incident entered UFO legend.

There were rumors that the plane had been shot down by a UFO, or that the Russians had caused the crash, or that the body was missing from the cockpit, or that wreckage was highly radioactive.

A mystery did remain. If Mantell had blacked out and crashed chasing something, just what was he chasing? The Air Force suggested several explanations.

First, was that the object was the planet Venus. While Venus is often mistaken for a UFO, it seems unlikely in this case. Another explanation was that the object was a weather balloon. Given Mantell’s description, though, a typical weather balloon seems much too small.

Another explanation offered by Professor Donald Menzel was that the object was an optical illusion known as a “sundog.” Sundogs, or “parhelion” as they are also called, are the result of sunlight being reflected off ice crystals high in the sky. They can appear as a large, bright object. This theory seems flawed, though, as the object was spotted from several different locations at different directions and the sundog is dependent on the viewer, the ice, and the sun, being in particular positions relative to one another.

Years later a more likely possibility surfaced. During that period the Navy was running a top-secret program named “Skyhook.” It involved the use of very large balloons at very high altitudes to measure cosmic rays. It has been suggested that Mantell was chasing one of these balloons. Since the Skyhook balloons operated at much higher altitudes (60,000 feet) than the Mustang could obtain, Mantell could never have overtaken it.

Still, it is impossible to prove for sure what Mantell saw. There were reports of a UFO later that same day over Ohio. Too far for a skyhook balloon to have drifted in such a short time.

Whatever did happen that day it began our fascination with Unidentified Flying Objects and the incident pushed the US Air Force to create Project Blue Book – the rest is simply history in this Mysterious America.

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OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

WE’RE OUTTA HER E

a weekend destination keeping you on the backroads

RogUes haRBoR inn 2079 e shoRe dRive, lansing, ny 14882 • 607-533-3535 • WWW.RogUeshaRBoR.Com Ithaca is Gorges. So, the saying goes, and they’re right. In fact, the entire Finger Lakes region of New York is pretty spectacular – in addition to the natural beauty – the gorges, lakes, and waterfall – there are dozens of lakeside wineries, breweries and distilleries. There are state parks, quaint towns, interesting and different museums and one of the biggest Wildlife Refuges in the nation.

The area is packed with deep history as well, from the ancient glaciers that carved the region’s topography, to native tribes, and the settlements of Europeans in the region.

There were a few wars as well – the War of 1812, against the British, made a lasting impression on the area and created its own chapter in the history books.

One career soldier for our side was Major General Daniel Minier, of the New York State Militia’s Artillery. In 1830, after a lifetime in the service, he retired and built a most impressive hotel; the first brick structure in the region and incredibly over-built.

He called it the Central Exchange Hotel. It was named such as it was created for the stage traffic from Elmira to Auburn and Cortland to Penn Yann. The first known bill for the hotel was, “50 cents admission, supper and horses extra...” Such a deal!

The inn’s original cost was approximately $40,000 and took 12 years to complete. It featured 15-inch thick brick walls, more than 13 working fireplaces, with columns stretching three stories. Even today the workmanship stands the test of time – the Rogues Harbor Inn is very impressive and is only getting better and is on the National Historic register.

Major General Minier died in 1849 and his remains were placed in the Asbury Cemetery.

With new owners came a new name and it was called Elm Grove Hotel in 1890 for the row of beautiful elm trees planted in front of the Inn. At that time, it was a stopping place for horse thieves and other no-gooders.

Rogues Harbor, or the Harbor, received its current name shortly thereafter, around 1900, when it is said that a patron in high spirits climbed to the roof of a nearby building, and hurling a bottle of whiskey against the brick, proposed a toast, “here’s to a harbor of rogues.”

If walls could talk there would be volumes here at the Rogues Harbor Inn. Counterfeiters, hidden caches of funny money, bootlegging during prohibition, and the capture and imprisonment of Edward Ruloff - a 19th-century American doctor, lawyer, schoolmaster, photographer, inventor, carpet designer, phrenologist, and philologist, in addition to a career criminal and serial killer. He was known as The Genius Killer and was the last man publicly hung

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019

Page 19

in New York State – also, it is said, that Rulloff’s brain was the second-largest brain on record and it is displayed at the Wilder Brain Collection at Cornell – right down the road in Ithaca.

Now that is one for Mysterious America!

But, in the present day, back at the Rogues Harbor Inn, things are very comfortable.

The current owner is Eileen Stout and, since she took back the operations in the past year (she owned it for 20 before), she has been slowly and methodically bringing back this stately hotel to its former glory – the way it should be.

We rode up in the early part of the summer and easily found the Rogues Harbor Inn at the crossroads of Routes 34 and 348 – just east of Lake Cayuga.

Taking in the fine craftsmanship of the woodwork and the long hall, with the beautifully built staircase – we could see why it took workers a dozen years to create this.

The Inn has 9 rooms, with their own baths, all handsomely appointed with period furniture and style.

Our room was on the third floor and came with a queen size sleigh bed and small sitting area and was decorated in rich French Country colors and heavy cherry furniture. The large bathroom had a claw foot tub and shower and a non-working fireplace.

We settled in and went exploring the large building – discovering the impressive bar and restaurant, soon to

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OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS be re-opened, and then strolling over to the brewpub, right next door, to see what the locals were brewing.

As the hotel’s restaurant was not yet open, we parked the bikes for the night and Ubered into Ithaca and spent the evening in and around The Commons.

A very nice night, indeed.

After the long few days on the bikes and with the help of a very comfortable and stylish Sleigh bed – sleep came quickly and easily.

Come morning we found the coffee and sat a bit along the lawn before looking for breakfast that we were told would be in the ballroom.

This was right across from our room and when we entered we were not prepared for how beautiful this restored room would be. High curved ceiling (we went up to the attic to see how they built this arched ceiling some 190 years ago.).

Eileen made a wonderful and filling breakfast of perfectly cooked fresh scrambled eggs, deliciously seasoned potatoes and an Irish tomato accompanied by a nice assortment of bread, pastries, jams and lots of good coffee. We made small talk with some of the other guests before packing up and continuing on our journey across New York State.

The Rogues Harbor Inn has a magically quality that can only come from a building that has history, has experienced a long and adventurous life and oozes its own persona.

We like everything about it and look forward to returning to the Rogues Harbor Inn soon.

Enjoy!

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HIT THE PENNSYLVANIA ICE CREAM TRAIL It’s a thing. So many states have jumped on the ice cream band wagon with their own trails following dairy farms, trendy ice cream shops and other spots selling this summertime favorite. With prime time ice cream season winding down, here’s one more road trip to plan before they start putting the scoops away.

Pennsylvania tourism hooked up with their Agie Dept. and offered up three separate ice cream trails – Western, South Central and Eastern. You won’t be able to claim any prizes this year, as they closed up claims at the end of September, but you can still get yourself some of the best ice cream in PA. Put this on your list for 2020 and you’ll be able to sport a t-shirt and eat your ice cream at home from one of their bowls.

We’ll stick with the Eastern spots and list them from northernmost on down south, starting in Lake Ariel and finishing in Chester Springs. I have featured a few of them in these pages already, but many have not and will be in upcoming months. I’ll give you a basic route at the end but it’s always more fun to put one together on your own. If you are a true ice cream glutton, you might be able to get them all in in two days, but for better enjoyment why not spread it out over a few days or the weekends in October. Many of these spots have harvest festivals throughout the month – all the more enticement to pay them a visit. So let’s begin…

keatings ice Cream • 1642 archbald mountain Rd, lake ariel, pa • 570-937-4191 Located on Keating’s Heavens Gate Farm, a working dairy farm, your ice cream will be freshly churned from the cow’s milked daily that you may see grazing in the fields. To date, they have created approximately 80 unique flavors and are always looking to add more. Enjoy a ride to the country and your ice cream in the fresh Pocono mountain air. They are seasonal, so check hours. manning farm dairy • RR#1 manning Rd, dalton, pa • 570-563-1702 • manningfarm.com • Check for hours Another working farm with a small store selling their ice cream and other dairy product, Manning Farm Dairy was among the first to be featured in this column. The setting is about as country farm as you’ll get, with a couple of picnic tables strewn about. They may not have the laundry list of flavors that others boast, but the quality is about the best you will find.

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OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

milkhouse Creamery 570-520-5955 190 susquehanna Blvd, West hazleton, pa • m-f 4 to 10; sa-su 1 to 10 359 south mountain Blv, mountain Top, pa • m-f 2 to 9; sa-su 12-9 The Milkhouse Creamery offers up 30 creative flavors that are often inspired by dreams and childhood memories such as Cookie Dough Coal Mine and Fluffernutter + Banana. Apparently their spoons and cups change color when they touch the ice cream – how child-like is that? And to make this stop even better, you can get a cone and roll some balls at the bowling alley next door.

Crystal spring farm 3550 Bellview Rd, schnecksville, pa m-sa 9a to 6p; su 12-6 • 610-799-4611 4th generation family owned and operated dairy farm located in a valley east of the PA turnpike – but you’d never know it from their lush surroundings. Feeling a bit peckish before your dessert?

They offer up homemade salads, sandwiches and more. According to their webpage, they produce 12,000 gallons of ice cream a year, so they must know what they’re doing.

klein farms dairy + Creamery 410 klein Rd, easton, pa every day 8a-7p • kleinfarms.com Founded in 1935 and opening their dairy store in 2004, Klein Farms proudly serves up Daniel Duffin’s Happy Holstein Ice Cream. Offering over 20 flavors, crafted with the best of ingredients, they have their

tried and true favorites along with their seasonal and holiday flavors. During the non-winter months, enjoy your ice cream al fresco while visiting the farm’s goats, sheep and pig, as well as the cows and young calves.

merrymead farm • 610-584-4410 2222 s valley forge Rd, lansdale, pa • m-sa 8a-9p • su 10:30a-9p Located in the heart of Montgomery County, Merrymead opened its doors to the public in 1971 and has been making folks happy ever since. Managed by the fifth generation of the Rothenberger family, the farm features more than 32 flavors of premium ice cream as well as home made pies and other baked goods. They operate all year and have something happening for every season. Fall brings their Harvest Festival on weekends throughout the month of October. To see their schedule visit their website - merrymead.com – and select the day you’d like to visit. freddy hill farms • 215-855-1205 • find them on facebook 1440 sumneytown pike, lansdale, pa • Tu-su @ 9am; m @ 10amam Freddy Hill Farms there is truly something for everyone – miniature golf, batting cages, driving range, farm zoo and, of course, delicious ice cream in over 30 flavors. October brings their FalFest on weekends from noon to 5 with hayrides to the pumpkin patch, pig races, cornstalk maze, fall fun foods and so much more. This bucolic setting will have you looking forward to the Halloween.

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019

Chester springs Creamery @ milky Way farm 521 e Uwchian ave, Chester springs, pa Weekends 1-9pm • milkywayfarm.com The oldest farm on this list, Milky Way Farm has been owned and operated as a dairy farm by the Matthews family since 1902, although it has been a farmstead since the 1760s. Most of the milk from their cows is sold to Land O’ Lakes Cooperative but they keep a good bit to produce their Chester Springs Creamery ice cream – thank goodness! They, too, are hosting a Fall Harvest through October on the weekends from 10am-5pm with a corn maze, pick your own pumpkins, hay rides and, not to be missed, a visit with the young farm animals.

Page 23 public, a MOIC cafe and shop will offer an exclusive menu and retail products.

“MOIC NYC is a dream that our team has been developing for 3 years.

Over 1.5 million guests have come through our various doors and given us so much input and inspiration,” says Co-Founder and Creative Director, Maryellis Bunn. “I want to continue to connect people and create moments of joy through ice cream. MOIC NYC will build upon Soho’s artistic history and contribute to the neighborhood’s resurgence as a place for imagination and creativity.”

There you have it – eight stops on the Eastern Pennsylvania Ice Cream Trail. Here is a basic 210 mile route to get you from one place to another, starting at Keatings. Remember to pace yourself, savor many different flavors and watch out for the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

museum of ice Cream to launch nyC flagship Museum of Ice Cream (MOIC) announces the launch of its highly anticipated first flagship in NYC late Fall 2019. Located at 558 Broadway in Soho, Manhattan, MOIC NYC will span nearly 25,000 square feet over 3 floors, featuring 13 all-new installations, including a New York inspired “Celestial Subway” and MOIC’s biggest sprinkle pool to date. Tickets go on sale on October 9 and an early access waitlist is currently live on MOIC’s website.

MOIC NYC will feature some of the brand’s most imaginative, multi-sensory installations that will bring to life guests’ delightful dreams: savor the sweetest treats on a floating table, slide down an epic three-story slide, see a spectacular hall of giant scoops, and follow the sound of a buzz that will lead you to a giant “Queen Bee hive.” These highlights and more are created inhouse by MOIC’s team of architects and designers. Accessible to the general

“We are excited to delight our fans back where MOIC began and continue to unite people through the power of ice cream. MOIC NYC is the first of several flagship locations that will launch in the U.S. and abroad over the next 18 months,” says Manish Vora, Co-Founder of Museum of Ice Cream.

Tickets go on sale October 9 and a waitlist to signup for early access is live at museumoficecream.com. Tickets include ice cream tastings and signature treats exclusive to MOIC NYC. Tickets are $38 per person (children 2 and under are free). MOIC NYC is located at 558 Broadway, New York, NY 10012

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Southbound • Unexpected Starts

Y

ou wait patiently through the long winter for the first blooms of spring and that first bigger road trip of the year, but then life comes at you hard. A mother passes suddenly leaving you rocked and empty, a kitty must be peacefully and sadly put down, and then a favorite uncle heads to a new horizon in the west and must be buried with love and honor. It makes you think… and on the bike sometimes that is all we do, right?

The day we had planned to get on the road early to head south into Virginia and, eventually, to the Horizons Unlimited gathering outside Appomattox, we found ourselves gathered around an open grave in Paramus, New Jersey as Shira’s Uncle Phil plain beautiful pine box was lowered into the earth and we took turns shoveling the soil back into the grave.

Next to him was Shira’s father and, next to him, her grandparents as well. Although more smiles and love than tears and pain this morning – it was not how we had planned this, months back, and the realization of how quickly all changes kept filtering into my mind.

Horizons to the

West

words + images: Brian Rathjen

Page 26 Unlike the others, all in cars, Shira and I rode down with the bikes and planned on heading south when all was done.

The Rabbi was a bit verklempt as we walked from the two motorcycles to our waiting family and said something to our cousin Howard. Never one to

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS mince words (he got that from his father Phillip) he told the rabbi to “calm down, it’s okay – they are our family.”

And, so it was.

“I like geography best, he said, because your mountains and rivers know the secret. Pay no attention to boundaries.” ~ Brian Andreas With half the day’s light gone and both the sun and Uncle Phil heading west along the river called Eternity, we made time south along the Passaic River, the first of so many rivers along this journey, and began counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike as we sped south.

We then meandered down across the Susquehanna River into Delaware and by early evening we found ourselves along the north side of the Potomac River.

Ever diligent I spied a sign for, what else, The Little Red Barn Ice Cream Café. Hey, it was not like we needed a sugar and caffeine fix after this long day – but a good husband should always be on the lookout for people, places and things for his wife’s monthly column.

But, things got better. One flavor was called The Snallygaster. That name had monster written all over it… and indeed it was.

Local legend has it that a creature part bird, part reptile had been terrorizing this region for centuries. A quick call to Doctor Seymour O’Life confirmed it and I knew I was onto yet another Monster Quest.

Shira had made reservations at a hotel in the town of Brunswick, a short

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019 and curvy drive away from the café and Snally and a much-needed bit of twisty to end a long and saddened day.

But, the hotel was a bit different too.

Part TravelLodge-part 50’s-style diner, and Penny’s Diner made a decent burger and an excellent patty melt and was open 24/7 – which would be perfect if I had a-hankerin’ for a second dessert later that night.

Both Shira and I knew where our next stop would be, the small city of Lynchburg, Virginia on the James River towards the southern end of the state.

Having a bit of fun, as we got closer to this road trip, we both made up our own routes and then compared and contrasted them.

Mine was a fairly economical 200 miles along the eastern edge of the Appalachians. Shira’s, a more bawdy and robust 260 miles that jumped across the mountain ridges and along with the more twisty parts of the Shenandoah River and Valley.

She won. But… if you have read Backroads for any amount of time or have been on one of this gal’s routes you know they always end up the same - on some two-track semblance of a dirt road – usually going over a mountain and magically going in a direction that is both uphill and downhill at the same time.

How (and why) does she do that?

But, we agreed it was her way or the highway so in Shira I trusted. As an ancient Jedi once said… “who is more the fool, the fool or the one follows them?”

Before scooting across the Potomac and into Virginia we made a quick ride over to Gathland State Park’s War

Page 27 Correspondents Memorial Arch at Crampton’s Gap along South Mountain. Dedicated to all the war correspondents who have perished doing their chosen work, it is a massive and quizzically built arch. It is fifty feet high and forty feet broad.

Above a Moorish arch, sixteen feet high built of Hummelstown purple stone, are super-imposed three Roman arches. Truly stunning to see.

We backtracked, crossing the river into Virginia and then followed the route south and a bit west.

It seems that even when we make our own routes, we both follow the same formula. Small roads, over mountains and along rivers and streams always seem to work best.

Breakfast was found at the Pine Grove Restaurant, a small place with big flavor, just a bit west of Blue Ridge Mountain Road that I was not surprised to see pop up on the GPS, as we once again rode past the FEMA Secret Base from Mysterious America.

What we were surprised at was the amount of activity happening as we passed. Normally this place is silent as a mouse.

This day there seemed to be a lot going on.

Hmmm? Another oddity that we had never spotted before was that the name of the same road

Page 28 on the far side of the highway was called Raven Rock.

Coincidence? Not. At Front Royal we vectored south along Fort Valley Road, always a pleasure and highly recommended, and then up and over our second ridge. Here Shira and her VStrom gave me a little ass whippin’ in the twisties. I felt her… and heard her… before I saw her zip by me in one of the tighter turns.

So, you wanna play Marc Marquez, ehh?

It’s okay. I can take it, but vowed to put her bike on the center stand later that evening… and then walk away. She rides like the wind but is unable to get her bike off that stand.

It is my trump card, as it were.

Our route brought us to Natural Chimneys Park, an odd and ancient rock formation and home to the Natural Chimneys Jousting Club and US Jousting Museum. Yes, jousting.

Like Game of Thrones jousting, without the gratuitous nakedness, dragons and lopping off of horses’ heads.

“May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke We passed over two more narrow rivers, without names, but flowing strongly, heavy to the banks with spring rain.

We had gotten into about 200 of the 260 or so miles when Shira exclaimed that this route was so superior to any of her others and that even she was happy that the dreaded “Dirt Monster” had never reared its head.

Never say never.

We were soon on the first two-track gravel trail heading over some Appalachian peak. It is good to be consistent in your consistency.

I awaited the imminent attack of rabid dragons and angry indigenous tribesmen as we sagaciously trod over the mountain.

But, then Shira’s route truly got itself back on course with a wonderful, perfect, better than all the rest roads… Route 60 from Buena Vista east. Especially the downhill part past the Blue Ridge Parkway!

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

The road is well paved, and many of the tighter turns banked in a Mary Poppins manner (practically perfect in every way).

We were in The Flow. The Zone.

Satori, baby! One with the road and the bike. Simply amazing and, dare I say it? I do. By far one of the best roads in the region. Maybe the state.

From here we followed another twolane serpent along the James River and into Lynchburg that is a happening town, made even more so by our hotel for the night - the Craddock Terry; a converted shoe factory that offered everything we could want, including a Wirehaired Fox Terrier named Penny Loafer, the hotel’s canine manager

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019

Page 29

who came up to our room for a visit and to see if there was anything we needed. A treat, a pet, perhaps a walk?

What a day - and a winner of a route too - mountain trail be damned.

We did a bit of exploration of downtown Lynchburg - its James River Walkway, Community Market and impressive Monument Terrace with its 139 steps to the top.

Private Desmond Doss hailed from this town and one of the steps’ landings is in his honor. If the name does not ring a bell, Private Doss was the only conscientious objector in World War II to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor. The film Hacksaw Ridge was based on his amazing story.

It was no small honor and excitement to see this memorial to such a gallant and brave young man.

Sunset cocktails were found along the James River with a salad and pizza (white with sausage & garlic) at one of two restaurants the Craddock Terry had to offer.

The room, actually suite, was very impressive with tall factory-style ceilings, huge bathroom, and incredibly comfortable bed. Much like its sister hotel, the Bolling Wilson in Wytheville, Virginia, the Craddock Terry is a perfect overnight or base camp for today’s traveling motorcyclists.

Our journey to Central Virginia was about attending the Horizon’s Unlimited Travelers Meeting, held at a 4-H Summer Camp outside Appomattox.

For the last five years, and for a number of days each spring, a group of likeminded riders gather to hold seminars, training sessions and generally help each other out when considering traveling on a large scale on two wheels.

Speakers talked about riding to the tip of South America in Argentina, riding in India, correct paperwork and sponsorship, medical treatments and emergencies on the road along with other impressively varied topics. If you ever had the thought, dream or urge to… go; then a good place to start is with the friends you have not met yet at a HU Travelers Meeting; or ‘Gathering of

Page 30

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019 the Tribe’ as they have been called. 2020 will see a great variety of meet-ups, including the HUVA on April 23-26 and a new destination of Newfoundland August 11-14. Now THAT’S a great road trip! You can find out more on their website horizonsunlimited.com Although we’d only be there for half of the event, we sat in on as many topics as we could and certainly learned a few things.

Add into this the obvious camaraderie that these riders share and it made for an excellent start to the riding season. Horizon’s Unlimited holds a number of these gatherings around the country and the world, but this one in Virginia, run and overseen by Steve Anderson of Morton’s BMW, has gathered quite a following and with good reason.

At the meeting dinners and breakfast were available, lunch needed to be found this day and knowing we were not far from the superb barbeque at the Fishin’ Pig, in Farmville, we made a dash along the Old Dominion’s backroads for a smoky sampling for two. Those who joined us on our Fall Fiesta sampled the Fishin’ Pig barbeque restaurant in Waynesboro and, hopefully, were not disappointed!

This night’s digs were in what they call a pod.

A pod…hmmm?

We did not know what ‘pod’ meant? I feared it was one of those moving pods and we’d awake on a truck outside Indianapolis, but it really was a two-room cabin that had a clean and working bathroom and impressive shower (always a plus), not to mention a living roof.

Not the Craddock Terry, but it worked for us.

A Tex/Mex adventure dinner (these are brave and hearty souls, indeed) and another few seminars finished off this night and the next day we’d hang around for a few more talks, before packing up and heading north.

Northward Ho! We stayed for a bit the next morning as there was a photography seminar and some other talks but did have family obligations back home and had a few stops we needed to make on the return ride north.

It had rained rather hard the previous night, so the soaked red clay and gravel roadway that Shira’s route instantly threw us on was all the more tidy and fun.

Back on paved and pristine Virginia backroads, we motored through two-lane country byways and in and out of small towns I had never heard of before.

Page 31 Goochland? Do the Blue Knights know of this?

Cutting further east we rode through Fort Hill and then over the Rappahannock River. Along the way, we passed the site of the Old Garrett Farm where assassin John Wilkes Booth was cornered in the barn that was set ablaze and then he was shot trying to flee. He bled for three hours before looking at his hands and muttered, “Useless, useless,” and then he died, dropping a final curtain on this actor’s last and horrible performance.

Continuing eastward we rode to the Potomac River, which we had crossed heading south a few days earlier, but along this wide part of the river the environment was far more nautical than frontiersman. Daniel Boone meets Jimmy Buffett.

The tiny town of Colonial Beach, located just miles from the birthplaces of both James Monroe and George Washington, is called ‘Paradise on the Potomac’ and what we thought would be a washout of a day had turned into a beautiful afternoon.

Although Colonial Beach can be a happening and bustling town in the summer, here in late April we had the town to ourselves. Our hotel for the night was a great find by Shira called the Riverview Inn. Recently acquired, this cozy hotel has seen a rebirth and repackaging and what was once a fairly rundown hotel that had seen better days now looks to have its best days ahead of it.

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS Think retro 50s meets Miami Vice and toss it a bit of Parrothead flavoring and you will have the Riverview. Just a half block from the second longest beach in Virginia – with white sand and a few imported palm trees planted for good measure – the Riverview and Colonial Beach might have you wonder just what part of the country and latitude you are really in.

We checked in, unloaded the bikes and took a stroll around the shore, finding a summertime meal in April along the Potomac’s shore. After lunch, we strolled some more as there were some neat shops and an intriguing art gallery with the most interesting artist running it.

“Life is like the river, sometimes it sweeps you gently along and sometimes the rapids come out of nowhere.” ~ Emma Smith Weather along the coast can be a fickle friend. One second warm and sunny, the next black skies pile in from the west and our phones chime warning of tornados.

Oh, oh.

The storm hit hard, fast and furious and I was able to slide the bikes, which were being moved about by the powerful winds, into a semi-sheltered corner of the three-story brick bank building across from the hotel to keep them from the hardest gusts.

Brick worked well for that pig, so I thought it was my best bet in the heavy bluster.

It did not last long and did cause a bit of a mess, but this region has seen far worse in the past than this quick tempest. Just two years before a storm of like-minded temper caused major destruction here and Hurricane Hazel crushed this town some 65 years back.

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Page 32

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019

With the hard weather mostly passed, much cooler temps began settling into this part of the river.

We spent some time with Kelly and Bob, the owners of the Inn, and then walked to dinner at Denson’s Grocery. We had stopped by the Chamber of Commerce earlier that day and Susan had told us of a most incredible, as she put it, ‘Destination Restaurant’ that has folks travel from miles around to experience and, if we could, we should go there for dinner.

Reservations were made and Susan’s suggestion was spot on, as Denson’s was incredible! One of the best seafood meals we have had in a long time, and we love fish.

Rocky and Blair offer great ambiance, stellar service and a wonderful menu with specials that really are just that. They also truly love what they do and it shows.

The bar along the beach had a band going that night, easily heard from our patio, and the Riverview had a variety of games so we knocked each other’s blocks off with Rock’em Sock’em Robots and then Shira sunk my Battleship; a fine finish to such a schizophrenic day.

We rose just ahead of Sol to take in its beautiful entrance to this day, with its golden and orange rays promising a gem of a Saturday. Maybe not, as strong wind gusts were promised for the coast and Mid-Atlantic.

Above, a family of Osprey flew in and out of their nest, keeping an ever-watchful eye on us from above.

All was serene, quiet, and right. Mornings like this can make your mind right too. Sometimes we all need a mental adjustment. We recommend watching the sunrise with a loved one – even if it’s only yourself.

We had a cup of Joe to get the mind even more right and then scooted around the peninsula to see what was to be seen on the far end of Colonial Beach. We then did a quick ride over to James Monroe’s birthplace before heading across the river and towards the Chesapeake Bay.

Page 33 By this time the promised winds began to pick up and then picked up more.

We both knew we had to cross the Bay Bridge and neither of us was keen on this – especially after crossing one smaller span across the Severn River and having to wrestle the bikes a bit to keep them pointed where we wanted to go.

Surprisingly the big bridge across the Chesapeake Bay was a non-event and led us to Harris Crab House and a plate full of steamed Blue Crabs for a late breakfast. We never, ever, come down along the bay and not entertain ourselves for a couple of hours devouring these beautiful swimmers. These Johnnies were colossal. No, really - that was their official size.

Like something from Jurassic Park or a 50’s B-Movie Atomic Bomb experiment gone bad.

Today, size mattered. Simply the largest crabs we have ever seen and a half dozen, plus one, took a bit of time to clear off the paper.

That afternoon the winds continued to worsen and caused us to vector into Plan B, looking to find less breeze.

Page 34

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS We were unsuccessful, so we went back to Plan A and toughed it out, riding some times with a great deal of pressure on the left peg to keep the bikes from going to the right and avoiding oncoming cars that were being pushed to the left.

The rule here is to look where you want to go, pick your track, and stick with it.

Eventually, we rode into Delaware and a quick slide into the scrumptious roads that roll around the Brandywine region.

We wanted to attend the Gathering of the Nortons that would take place the next day at Washington Crossing Park, along the Delaware River, so keeping with the Washington theme that seemed to have taken hold, we took a room at the Washington House Hotel, a fantastic find we discovered in Sellersville, Pennsylvania about an hour from the Norton gathering the following day.

This hotel is located in a building from the late 1700s but don’t be fooled into thinking this is an old rustic Pennsylvania has-been.

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BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019 The Washington House Hotel is beautiful, classy and a thoroughly modern Millie. Complete with restaurant, bar and its own theater, the Sellersville, it was perfect for us this night and a spot to remember when you are in the area; great for lunch, dinner, and overnight, especially overnight as the rooms and staff were wonderful and ambiance almost plush.

This evening the comedian Rita Rudner would be doing two shows and we copped tickets for the later one, and, with the bikes parked, unpacked and locked, fell into the bar and restaurant and Rita’s show.

Every year the Delaware Valley Norton Riders Club hold their gathering at Washington’s Crossing State Park and, for years now our friend Lori Weiniger has been holding a breakfast for local riders and friends… at her home, in a quiet neighborhood not far from the ‘Gathering.’ We emailed her and asked if we could join in again, to which she graciously agreed.

We left at 6:30 to be there in about an hour and soon an empty cul-de-sac became a packed Bike breakfast with some seriously neat machines of all ages, sizes, and character.

Thank you, Lori – you are a rider’s Goddess and an excellent breakfast chef too!

Rain was swiftly approaching, but still, the lot was full of a wide array of classic, not so classic, rat and ‘what the hell is that’ sort of machines.

But, the swiftly dropping temperatures and the on and off again rain had us gear up, switch on and get going north along the river a bit earlier than we had hoped.

With home just a few hours away and Mother Nature turning against us…

Page 35 again…we thought it was time to go home.

As our two machines churned north along the Delaware River we passed by the town of Phillipsburg.

It seemed appropriate. It seemed fitting. It felt right.

I wish I had a river so long, I would teach my feet to fly.

Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on. ~ Joni Mitchell

RESOURCES Little Red Barn Ice Cream Cafe • 4610 Lander Rd, Jefferson, MD 21755 • 301-378-8100 • littleredbarnicecream.com Travelodge by Wyndham • 620 Souder Rd, Brunswick, MD 21716 240-367-9472 • www.wyndhamhotels.com Craddock Terry Hotel • 1312 Commerce St, Lynchburg VA 24504 434-455-1500 • craddockterryhotel.com HorizonsUnlimited.com Riverview Inn • 24 Hawthorn St, Colonial Beach, VA 22443 804-224-4200 • colonialbeachriverview.com Denson’s Grocery + Oyster Bar • 117 Washington Ave, Colonial Beach VA 22443 • 804-224-4121 • densonsgrocery.com Harris Crab House • 433 Kent Narrow Way N, Grasonville, MD 21638 • 410-827-9500 • harriscrabhouse.com Washington House Hotel • 136 N Main St, Sellersville PA 18960 215-257-3000 • washingtonhouse.net Delaware Valley Norton Riders • www.DVNR.org

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OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

Words: Tony Lisanti On day two of the 2019 Backroads Spring Break, we departed the Penn Stater Hotel in State College, PA under cloudy skies and with light rain falling. Jose and I picked up the GPS route and started to get into the twisty mountain roads just as the rain stopped. Soon the roads were dry and before we knew it we were well into our journey to McHenry, Maryland. The roads on this route were just great as we meandered our way through southwest Pennsylvania. The sky was grey and the temperature was warm but not hot.

All in all, good riding weather.

A pit stop in Drery, just east of Latrobe, allowed us to refuel bikes and body. At this point, we abandoned the route and set our sights on Grantsville, Maryland. The ride took us another 100 miles or so winding up and over the border and finally crossing into Maryland. We found our way to Route 219 and then onto the National Pike - Route 40. Heading west, soon the signs for Grantsville appeared and I slowed scanning the roadside. Just a mile or so east of town as the road descended a small signpost with a red, white and blue marker topped with an American Flag marking the spot I was looking for. Just beyond was a small parking area with a granite monument.

Its inscription reads: “This Monument is dedicated to the citizens of this area who gave their time and energy and their skill, for more than five days in subzero weather and deep snow, to assist the air and ground rescue teams in recovering the victims of a crash of a B-52 Bomber on a routine flight over this area on January 13, 1964.”

To the left of the main inscription: “In Memory of and as a tribute to Major Robert L. Payne, Major Robert E. Townley, S/Sgt Melvin Wooten And the survivors Major Thomas W. McCormick and Captain Parker C. Beedin” And to the right: “Erected by the Mountain District of the American Legion, Dept. of MD. In recognition of the gallant men of the United States Air Force who are constantly vigilant in protecting the security and freedom of these United States and to the citizens of this area who by their example here, stand also ready to lend a helping hand.”

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Page 37

Major Robert L. Payne Major Thomas McCormick

Captain Parker C. Peedin

So what happened in this rural part of Maryland that would warrant such a monument?

Like Mr. Peabody, let’s set the Way Back machine to 1964 and find out. In 1964 the United States and the Soviet Union were in a state of constant readiness to initiate or repel a nuclear attack. The world was perilously close to falling victim of both side’s strategy of Mutually Assured Destruction. In short, if the Soviets attacked first and annihilated North America and Europe, there would be enough firepower left to annihilate the Soviet Union. The United States relied on what was known as a triad. With stealthy submarines patrolling the oceans, land-based missiles in silos disperse throughout the country, and high altitude bombers - all armed and at the ready. The statisticians in the military were convinced that even if two elements of the triad were destroyed, the third would be able to rain fire down upon the Soviets.

The airborne part of the triad was the Strategic Air Command who, in those

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days, flew north to the Arctic Circle and just before entering Soviet air space would turn back west and head towards Alaska then south and across the US. This was known as Operation Chrome Dome. The Northern route took bombers up the East Coast of the United State, across the Atlantic over Greenland to the Arctic Circle. The operation called for dozens of fully armed B-52’s to be airborne flying these and other routes around the world in a state of constant readiness.

Early in January of that year, a routine Chrome Dome mission was cut short when a Boeing B-52D bomber belonging to the 484th Bombardment Wing, with the call sign “Buzz One Four” encountered engine problems and was diverted to Spain.

Sergeant Melvin D. Wooten The engine was repaired but this particular B-52D was sent to Westover, Massachusetts as a precaution. Since flight crews were in high demand, a reserve crew was hastily put together and ordered to Westover to fly the plane back to Georgia. The crew consisted of reservists and other officers, but they had not trained together as a tight cohesive crew. This is not saying they were inexperienced. The pilot sent to retrieve Buzz One Four was Major Thomas McCormick, age 42 at the time. A veteran of bombing missions serving as a pilot in the Pacific, Major McCormack logged hundreds of hours of flight time stayed in the service after the end of the war.

On the night of January 13, 1964, the pilot Major McCormick, Co-pilot, Captain Parker C. Peedin, Navigator Major Robert L. Payne, Radar Navigator Major Robert E. Townley and Gunner Sergeant Melvin D. Wooten departed Turner Air Force Base in Georgia for Westover Massachusetts to ferry Buzz One Four back.

Major McCormick was eager to get Buzz One Four into the air and headed south since a winter storm was headed their way. If they could get airborne in time they could climb and cruise over the top of the storm. During the flight, the crew did indeed encounter severe weather. The following unfolding of events is based on an article written by David Wood for the Washington Post Magazine called “Bomber Down”. This is a condensed version but the full article can be found here: buzzonefour.org/bomberdown.html.

Page 38 I highly recommend reading it.

As Buzz One Four flew over Southwestern Pennsylvania, turbulence began to rattle the aircraft. The crew radioed a request for a course correction and permission to descend to a lower altitude. As they made the descent from 31,000 ft. to 29,000 the turbulence grew worse. Major McCormick was radioing their requests for course and altitude changes.

Instead of heading out of the storm, Buzz One Four found itself right in the middle of one of the most severe winter storms on record. Snow squalls and heavy side wind gusts of over 60 mph caused the massive B-52 to shake and shudder violently. McCormick radioed again and requested an altitude change to 33,000 feet.

Shortly after their last transmission the punishing turbulence and crosswinds caused the vertical stabilizer or tail section to tear off the aircraft. All hell broke loose and Buzz One Four began to spiral towards the earth. The order to abandon the aircraft was given. Four crewmen were able to eject. The fifth, Major Townley was unable to and perished with the plane. But this was not the end to this ordeal. In the belly of Buzz One Four were 2 fully armed Mk 53 thermonuclear bombs. When Buzz One Four crashed in the hills North of Grantsville, some 90 miles northwest of Washington DC, the lethal payload went down with it.

Prior to the plane going down, Peedin the co-pilot and McCormick fought with the controls to no avail.

Those that could eject did and found themselves outside the aircraft in a terrible storm and a punishing windblast.

Peedin landed on a farm two miles south of Grantsville. His survival training taught him to stay in one location if lost. He managed to craft a makeshift shelter from his survival gear including the parachute and an inflatable raft to ride out the storm.

The pilot, McCormick ejected and landed near Meadow Mountain. Like Peedin, he decided to shelter in place until morning. He was able to make a fire and also used his inflatable raft and parachute as cover to keep from

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS freezing.

Melvin Wooten struck debris from the rear of the aircraft. His left thigh was broken and he came down alive in a meadow near Salisbury, PA, in an area known as the Dye Factory field. In shock from his injuries he collapsed. He was unaware he was only 200 yards away from a row of houses. Some lights were visible about a ½ mile in front of the home so he headed in that direction sealing his fate.

Jesse and Mary Frances Green were asleep when the deafening noise of the plane screaming overhead woke them. Their house was on Big Savage Mountain near Grantsville. Buzz One Four was seen hurtling past the Greens’ house with eight engines still roaring. Jesse and Mary watched as the wing hit the ground and the plane crashed in flames over the hill and out of sight. They immediately called the police.

The temperature outside was 10 degrees when Jesse went to look for the wreckage. It was reported that it took over an hour to reach the site in the deep snow. At that time no one on the ground knew what was in the belly of Buzz one Four Jesse Green reported he had found the plane and he could see the burning debris and heard the ammo onboard cooking off.

He reported this to the police.

A state trooper, Milt Hart was the first official to find the wreckage. He found the burning wreckage as it was being enveloped in heavy snow. Not knowing if there was anyone in the plane they brought up a police dog and began to search. The snow was deep so they looked for something to climb on for a better vantage point and climbed up on what they thought were the engines.

In reality, they turned out to two Mk 53 thermonuclear bombs.

The local police, volunteer firemen and townspeople began to assemble search parties. US Air officials arrived that afternoon and found that the residents of Grantsville already had organized search parties. The local radio station broadcast that a large plane was down in the area and residents were asked to leave lights on and look for survivors. It’s reported over 1000 people were organized to search the woods while military aircraft circled overhead.

Local churches began to set up dining halls to feed the searchers and military personnel. Volunteers were everywhere around Grantsville. Impromptu

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019 bunks were set up at the American Legion Hall, fire hall, school, and churches.

Milt Hart, the state trooper, took Air Force officials and armed troops to the site to guard and secure the aircraft and its lethal cargo.

Over the next five days, the search continued for survivors. A path was cleared to the crash site by a local quarry owner named Ray Giconi. He, along with some of his workers, took a forklift and dump trucks up to the frozen swamp where Buzz One Four had crashed. Giconi and his men took all the mattresses from a nearby camp and piled them into the dump trucks. The military ensured everyone the nuclear warheads would not detonate. The bombs were carefully loaded onto the mattresses in the trucks and taken down off the mountain. Giconi, when asked if he was scared the bombs would detonate, reportedly said: “I do know that if they’d a gone off, instead of being in the quarry business I’d have been in the gravel business.”

Major McCormick, relying on his survival gear set, off into the fields. Late in the afternoon, he had made his way over 2 miles to Robert Warnick’s home on Route 40. He was safe and was taken to a local hospital.

Peedin was able to get the attention of a low flying search plane. Soon, four volunteers made their way to where Peedin’s location was reported. He too was safe.

The next day Robert Townley’s remains were recovered from the wreckage of Buzz One Four. Investigators found he was in his seat but his harness straps were not buckled. He could not eject. It was determined that he must have been out of his seat when the tail tore off the B-52 and was unable to get himself buckled in to safely eject.

Robert Payne landed dazed and bruised but was alive. Instead of staying in one location and sheltering he set out through the blinding snow. Two days later after searching for hours, the Salisbury Volunteer Fire Department volunteers found Payne’s tracks. They followed them to a ravine called Poplar Lick Run. Major Payne had fallen into the ravine and died from exposure

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Page 39 trying to climb out. The men spent the remainder of the day recovering his body and turning him over to the Air Force.

The following Friday morning, four days after Buzz One Four crashed, a 17-year-old named Ronald Holler was walking beside the railroad tracks outside of town and found Melvin Wooten’s orange parachute in a snowdrift. After getting his father, the two found Wooten’s survival kit and chute harness halfburied in the snow. They found Melvin Wooten’s frozen body 150 feet away at the edge of Casselman River. Wooten had succumbed to his injuries and the elements.

In the spring, as the memory of that fateful night began to fade, the people of Grantsville erected stone markers where the airmen fell and installed a memorial celebrating the men who flew for the Strategic Air Command. These are the very markers we came to see today. It seemed pretty unassuming, just another roadside oddity. But this area is hallowed ground for the survivors of Buzz One Four, the widows and children of the three men that perished and to the local people that searched and recovered remains.

Matt McCormick, the grandson of pilot Thomas McCormick, found out about the ill-fated last flight of Buzz One Four and created a documentary available on Amazon Prime. Titled “Buzz One Four Crashed planes, lost nuclear bombs, and an Air Force cover-up: a filmmaker unpacks the secret history of how his grandfather nearly blew-up the eastern seaboard.”

This is how I first learned of these events.

We celebrate our war veterans, but often we forget the heroes of the Cold War- a war with no battles, few monuments but many casualties.

References: “Bomber Down” by David Wood for Washington Post Magazine August 8, 1999 www.buzzonefour.com • www.buzzonefour.org

Page 40

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

The Road Home from the Hayden Mission Last month we brought you along our southern ride to visit the home town and memorial statue of Nicky Hayden and the BMW MOA Rally. This month we’ll fill you in on our travels back north.

Mount Juliet to Benham, Kentucky We had started this trip in cold, wet weather – with electrics on; but it had been getting progressively warmer and today would be simply hot with the mercury (remember that fun stuff?) rising into the mid-90s.

We scooted east a bit before dropping off the Interstate and onto the backroads of central Tennessee.

I had plotted on the long scale with the route taking some 700+ miles and ending in Staunton, Virginia, a familiar town to us and, if needed, a single day’s highway run home.

The route ran generally north and east and we made it a point to travel through and along some great Volunteer State sites. Standing Stones State Park was really beautiful and not far from it we spied a sign for a general store called Bubba’s Honey Hole. Interesting name, we thought.

We stopped along a deep gravel parking lot and got to talking to some guys who were sitting on the porch, asking about breakfast.

“Well sure… we serve breakfast, y’all come on in!”

We did and they did. A super job too, with country fresh eggs, local cheese and ham. Truly hit the spot and Bubba’s was well worth the stop for sure.

The owner told us that since we were right here we HAD to go see the Dale Hollow Dam. He was pretty adamant about it so we made a bit of a detour and rode up towards the reservoir.

The dam, built back in the 1940s along the Obey River, is impressive, but the lake even more so, with over 650 miles of coast. At the bottom of the deep lake you will find, maybe, the town of Willow Grove – sunk like Atlantis by the Army Corp of Engineers – given up to the soggy pages of history in the name of progress.

This lake is prime smallmouth bass fishing territory and the actual world record for the largest such fish ever taken (just under 12 pounds) was out of these waters.

We were glad the gentleman at Bubba’s was so convincing!

Back on the route we made our way east and somewhere along the way lost an hour of daylight as we rode back into the Eastern time zone.

By late afternoon we made a pit stop for colder water and a bit of cooling down in the air-conditioned store. It was mid-90s and the day was long and

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019 getting longer with each tick of the thermometer.

If by myself I might just ride until dark, and then start mad-dogging around for a room for the night.

Shira is always on top of things…like balancing the checkbook and remembering birthdays and where we might spend the night…and she remembered the small Kentucky coal mine town of Benham. In Benham the old schoolhouse has been turned into a hotel – a mighty cool place indeed. We had spent an anniversary at the school a few years back, so we thought it would be fun to go back.

Shira called, booked a room and, being just 70 miles out, we twisted the throttles. When all was said and done we were just travelers, making silly speed, on the road to Kingdom Come.

As before, the Benham School House was a treat and once settled in we grabbed the only meal open in town … a hut that sells pizza.

Extravagant? Maybe?

But, ain’t nothing too good for my baby!

The rest of the evening was spent snuggled in bed watching Jorge Lorenzo turn his Honda into a points changing bowling ball in Catalunya.

Page 41 Benham, Kentucky to Staunton, Virginia Although I am a ‘weather geek’, I try not to worry too much about it. We always know there is a Plan B, C, D…etc.

But since we arrived at the rally we had been told to watch out for Monday.

Here it comes. It is going to be Biblical. The previous night the waitress was saying how the week was gonna be a bad one. Yada, yada, yada.

Still, I mentally prepared for a long and wet day.

So how happy were we to see light clouds and filtering sun the next day?!

Once again, we would have a 350+ hard-mile charge through the mountains. Hard meaning not soft. No interstates, just the twistiest mountain roads we could muster.

Before we left Benham, we stopped to take a look at the Kentucky Coal Museum and then headed east over the mountain and into Virginia and the Jefferson National

Page 42

Forest. All the parks seem especially beautiful in this region, but one stood out even more than the rest – enough so that we doubled back for a digital moment along one of the lakes.

About this time the sky darkened and the rain began. Nothing terrible, but annoying and the roads that had been dry for days were now shiny and a bit slick.

Dial it down. Pay more attention. Stay in the flow.

We vectored quickly into Wild & Wonderful West Virginia and then I began to see shadows across the road. The skies had cleared and would stay that way for the rest of the day.

Biblical indeed! Looking at what was happening to the north and south, it was more like a miracle. But, we’d take it.

By late morning we had ridden past breakfast and were in dire need of a break. We rode past the town of War – that had no fuel or food or anything that we could see.

So, what was it good for?

Absolutely, nothing!

Onward to Pound, West Virginia – home of U2 pilot Francis Gary Powers, who was shot down on May 1, 1960 by a Soviet S-75 Divina missile.

A little known fact was the Russians shot 14 of these S-75s at Powers, one of which hit one of their own Mig-19s.

The U2 incident was international news for months. Powers was eventually traded in a highly publicized ‘spyswap.’ He later would be killed in a helicopter crash flying for a Los Angeles TV station, filming a brush fire in the mountains. Filming a brush fire?

As Dave Matthews would sing …

“Funny the way it is.”

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

We passed into the town of Coalwood – Home of the Rocket Boys.

In March 1995, Homer Hickam, Jr. wrote a 2,000word article for Smithsonian Air & Space magazine. The article was entitled “Big Creek Missile Agency,” and it described Homer and his friends’ experiences building rockets in rural Coalwood during the late 50s. The magazine received tons of letters praising the article and asking for more.

Hickam turned his short story into a book titled Rocket Boys, which, of course, turned into an international phenomenon. The film called October Sky was based on Rocket Boys.

The last time I was here I bought the book before I got home.

Ever in search of the oddly named towns we revisited the previously mentioned little burg of Odd, West Virginia. Not much to see there, but the name says it all.

Shira, ever vigilant when it comes to where she lays her head at night, came through once again as she had found a fairly new hotel in Staunton called The Blackburn Inn. Built by Thomas Blackburn, who learned carpentry from none other than Thomas Jefferson, the huge place was created as an insane asylum called Western State. If that was not enough to get me and O’Life excited… it was then a prison and now a grand hotel.

Haunted? Did anyone say haunted? Insane asylum and prison. There’s gotta be spooks!

Shira booked a room and we got booking ourselves as we still had about 160 miles to go before dark – easy peasy – even along the silly and circuitous route we had put together. If something is 80 miles as the crow flies, it is

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probably twice that as the motorcycle rides.

A little after six we rolled up to the magnificent building - only to see everyone hurrying out, most with cocktails in their hands.

Wow, how nice. Are they throwing us a party? Nope – gas leak.

We spent an hour on the lawn waiting for the ‘all clear’ to go and checkin, chatting with other guests, checking oil, lubing Shira’s chain, cleaning mirrors and lights. All the stuff I should be doing anyway, but always seem to forget till the moments before Morpheus takes me away each night.

When we finally did get in we were still mightily impressed and this place might be a ‘must’ for a Backroads Rally in the near future. We walked into the town center, familiar to us after so many visits to Staunton, and then took a long loop back to the hotel – its wide green lawns full of the green glow of hundreds of fireflies on this mid-June evening.

We could have watched this show all night. home from Staunton Again, the promised heavy east coast storms missed us, or we them, with the Dark Sky app (excellent) showing reds and yellows to the north and the south.

Except for some drizzle & spritz, we would thread a dry needle most of the day. After a light breakfast of fruit, yogurt and croissants, channeling my inner Road Whisperer our route back to New Jersey would look for the typical ups and downs and general snakiness we love to find. To go north and east we first went north and west and slid back into West Virginia.

We made a pit-stop at Cooters “Dukes of Hazard” diner for coffee and then continued north through the valley, between the ridges, along Camp Roosevelt Road (Route 675) – now a favorite of ours - and then headed into unchartered (at least by us) territory.

Jimmy Buffett once said, “The best navigators don’t know where they are going – until they get there!” Words to ride by.

Along a small paved road called Winchester Grade, near the town of Unger, West Virginia, we ran past a home that was so oddly adorned that it caught my eye as we approached.

Yogi, Mr. Forest Ranger and Boo-Boo were waving. Giant beach-partiers, muf-

Page 43

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Page 44

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS fler men and Santa on a private backyard roller coaster, with the Simpson’s as passengers. We had been here before, many years back during one of our rallies, but today I fortuitously, stumbled upon it.

The Farnham Colossi, also called the Farnham Fantasy Farm, is located on the private property of

George and Pam Farnham. George, a former DC lawyer, moved to West Virginia in the1980s and the collecting began. I had heard the contents of the house are in a league by itself.

Although there was a truck in the yard, no one answered our “hellos”, so we took a quick look around and then skedaddled. Like Sabin’s Farm in Pennsylvania, the Farnham Colossi is worth seeking out.

We then continued to luck out weather-wise crossing over the Potomac into Maryland and then up across the Mason-Dixon line in Pennsylvania.

By early evening we realized we had covered almost 400 miles and had just one hundred or so to go to our driveway.

Our plan was to spend one more night on the road, but the siren call of Spenser T. Cat was too much and we pushed on. Behind us, the sky turned

orange and then cosmo red as one of the longest days of the year and our hard-mile riding, slid behind the horizon.

Now dark, with the final 15 miles home along the forested roads of northwest New Jersey, we had our Hornet Deer Avoidance System on in tandem. Five separate times in these short miles we saw deer pick up their heads, ears flick back and then run away. It seems to us that The Hornet really is your best bet if you must ride at night where the deer and the antelope play.

When we started the day neither of us expected to land at home, but home was a welcome sight after the last month and half of almost constant day to day riding.

From the Horizons Unlimited Rally to our own Spring Break, then Americade and onto the BMW MOA Rally, we had logged thousands of miles. Rolling into the barn, turning off the bikes and hauling them onto their center stands, a certain feeling came over me.

Done, well-ridden, great friends, incredible sites… with my honey.

In the shower, a blanket of tiredness swept over me.

I toweled off, threw on a sleepy-time tee shirt and laid down in bed. Shira joined me, as did Spenser and LG – in their respective spots.

Ahh, Morpheus, good to see you my friend and the journey faded into black.

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BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019

Page 45 ride enough.

Our trip south somehow vectored right past Bennett Motor Sales. Funny how that worked out.

This was the first time we had been there and it was nice to meet these folks.

After we strolled around the first of two buildings, we headed across the road and got a chance to see some great examples of semi-modern Japanese rolling art. This collection is open to all who care to drop by and say hello.

The shop carries both Kawasaki and Honda machines and has been serving this part of the Empire State for years, and has a very knowledgeable and very active motorcycle staff.

BenneTT moToR sales 6453 ROUTE 28, FLY CREEK, NY 13337 607-547-9332 • WWW.BENNETTMOTORSALES.COM Many of the people you meet at the motorcycle dealerships and shops more than likely got into this industry not just to make a living, but because motorcycles were already a great part, if not the most important part, of their lives.

Lucky for us motorcycles not only keep us young and vibrant but, for many, they remain the key ingredient in the recipe of a happy and fulfilled life.

Some dealers, even after decades, still live, breath and love motorcycles.

Case in point … the people that own and operate Bennett Motor Sales, on Route 28, just outside Fly Creek, New York.

We have heard for a while now that Ray Bennett and crew had a serious and eclectic collection of vintage machines – almost all, but not quite, Japanese.

When we hear about something like this we usually perk up. When we hear it again and again, we know it is time for a little road trip.

For us, this worked out perfectly as we were going to be carrying on after the Ramapo 500 and exploring part of New York State that we never get to

One look at the trophies on the wall and race wins tells that story!

But it is the collection of vintage machines we came to see and the ride to Bennett was worth every mile.

Among the great machines they had on display was a 1975 Gold Wing along with a 1971 CB 750. Over there was a Yamaha RZ 350 and a 1968 CB450 café racer and next to that a 1966 CB77 305 Super Hawk. From my

Page 46

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

distant past was a Kawasaki H1 and a fairly mint Honda SL-125.

I never owned one – but I sure did want one.

In the other room were some European machines and the one motorcycle we have always wondered about, Suzuki’s answer to a question nobody ever asked – the RE5 Rotary.

Okay, maybe not the high point for Japan, but the one here at Bennett is in great shape.

The reason all these bikes were in such excellent condition is that Bennett Motor Sales specializes in refurbishing and restoring classic machines.

I have seen images of what was rolled into their shop and what was rolled out down the road – and they do superb work – taking every detail into consideration. If you have a machine that needs some cleaning up, or a totally new life brought to them – then we highly recommend that you talk to Ray Bennett and his staff of talented technicians. Take a look at their website to see a bit of how good they really are.

We hope you get a chance to visit Bennett; as we said – we know this place…

BACKROADS • OCTOBER 2019

Page 47

The Law Office of Paul G. Gargiulo Presents

Welcome to the Jungle - The Art of Learning to Ride Skillfully A column dedicated to your riding survival TWisT and shoUT oR The aRT of leTTing go I admit to being an ATGATT type of rider. Okay, maybe most of the times.

But when I suddenly and surprisingly found myself face down in the gravel, with blood coming off my arm and the realization that I would need help to get up, I was just wearing khakis and a tee-shirt.

Nobody goes around motorcycles and expects something bad will happen, but it can and then it can happen again.

But I could have been wearing Tony Stark’s Iron Man suit and I still would have ended up on the ground. Okay, maybe not if I had the Iron Man suit on, but I digress.

This as a first for me, at least that I can remember. I had dropped a bike. Right in front of my friend, Mike. But, wait… there is another little thing to add.

I had dropped Shira’s bike.

Her newish - fairly blemish-free – Suzuki VStrom 650XT. To add a little to my embarrassment was the fact that I was not even technically riding the VStrom. Nope, I was simply moving it over a bit so Mike could roll out the Honda Super Cub we were testing.

As I moved it, I was sloppy and careless and did not see the side stand roll a bit across the gravel driveway. When I went to walk away I caught a glimpse, out of my new and improved peripheral vision, of the stand giving way and the bright yellow machine begin its death roll to the ground.

Sometime things should just play out.

But, we are creatures of habit and, sometimes, of unwarranted response.

I should have let it go.

But, what would have happened if I knew what the outcome, from what I was about to do, would have been.

We are humans and, as such, we react with instinct – even when these reactions will have unexpected consequences.

All of this happened in a millisecond.

I see the bike start to roll, I plant my left leg and reach across to grab the 475 pounds of motorcycle that was now beyond the point of no return.

Where was Iron Man when I needed him?

The bike spun me around and to the ground fast and violently.

My left leg, planted on the ground, did not go that way, at first, but soon followed.

Mike said there were a few sound effects – much like a child’s scream – that issued forth. Mike figured out the center-stand on the Honda and rushed over to help.

We thought the leg was broken, but it was just a little pull of the hamstring.

Right. I hobbled slowly inside to tell Shira I had dropped a bike and was a little hurt.

“Oh, no… is your bike messed up?”

No, my bike was fine.

I then told her it was her bike, trying my best to look hurt, pitiful and in need of love and support.

I made puppy eyes at her.

She made pit bull eyes back.

Mike chimed in that “It coulda’ been worse, Brian – you could have been trapped under the bike and, if I wasn’t there, you would have probably died from lack of water and your body ravaged by squirrels or something.”

Thanks, Mike – always can count on you. You’re a ray of sunshine.

Shira walked around with me and was adamant about the needed regiment of ice, heat, ice, heat.

The next day walking was a chore, more of a hobble.

On July fourth it was a warm day, so I put on shorts.

That is when Shira saw what had been going on…

“Holy Frack, your leg!”

I thought I had a tick…

“No, come with me,” and she brought me to the full-length mirror.

“Haven’t you looked at this?”

Well, no, not since it first happened, but over the last day or two things had happened. From my butt to mid-calf was black, with lovely shades of purple and magenta.

The Pit Bull eyes returned and I knew a visit to a doctor was coming my way in the morning. Dr. Vaz is a great guy and very easy going. Not much ruffles him, so I was taken back when he said: “Wow, you did a number on your hamstring!”

Not torn in half, but pretty well shredded.

Prognosis... weeks, a month or so before the pain went away; six to nine months, for a full recovery, IF I don’t strain it again.

Yee gads… I had to use a cane for a few days.

So, why do I bring my tale of woe to the page? It’s only a bike. Let it drop.

But, you won’t. You will instinctively try to save it. You might twist and shout. Sometimes, it’s okay, to let go. I hope you do not get hurt and knock yourself out of the game.

See you on the road. ~ Brian Rathjen

Page 48

OCTOBER 2019 • BACKROADS

UP C OM I N G E VE NT S CAL END AR EVERY MONTH - WEATHER PERMITTING Every Tuesday • Two Wheeled Tuesday at Spiegel Restaurant • 26 1st Avenue, NyC. An eclectic gathering of motorcycles served with multi-cuisine meals. Kick some tires, have some couscous, enjoy the crowd • www.spiegelnyc.com • 212-228-2894

What’s Happening

MOTORCYCLE TRAILER RENTALS & SALES

BARN TRAILER RENTALS 718-426-7039 • www.BarnTruckRental.com

Every Thursday • Bike Night at JumboLand, Route 206, Branchville, NJ Every Thursday • Bike Night at Skylands Beer/Wine Garden. 447 Rte. 284, Wantage, NJ • 973-875-9463 • SkylandsBeerandWine.com Every Saturday thru October • Bergen County H-D Saddle Up Saturday. 9am for coffee and bagels. Ride departs 10am. Returns to dealership for free music and food. Proper attire MUST be worn! BCHD, 124 essex St, Rochelle Park, NJ • 201-843-6930

OPEN & ENCLOSED TRAILERS FLATBED TRAILERS • CAR HAULERS HITCH INSTALLATIONS

5705 Broadway • Woodside NY 11377 (OFF THE BQE & LIE)

2019-20 POLAR BEAR GRAND TOUR SCHEDULE It is not necessary to be a member of the Polar Bear Grand Tour to do these rides.

There is generally food at the destination and if you just want to go for a nice ride and join other folks feel free to attend. Polar Bear cancellations & updates will be sent via email and also posted on the website. These are general directions. Please feel free to use a GPS or a map to find a better route. Sign-in is from 11:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. unless otherwise posted. Check the New Member page for general information about the Polar Bear Grand Tour.

OCTOBER 2019

7 • CAPE MAy V.F.W. Post #386, N.J. 419 Congress St., Cape May, NJ • 609-884-7961

NOVEMBER 2019 3 • Irish Eyes Pub, 213 Angler’s Rd., Lewes, DE • 302-645-6888 www.irisheyespub.com 10 • The Eagles, 350 Woodside Lane, Bridgewater, NJ • 908-526-9898 • 2137foe.org 17 • De Thomasi’s East 5 Points Inn, 580 Tuckahoe Rd & Landis Ave., Vineland, NJ • 856-691-6080 • www.fivepointsinn.com 24 • Hillbilly Hall, 203 Hopewell-Wertsville Rd, Hopewell, NJ • 609-466-9856 hillbillyhall.com

DECEMBER 2019

1 • Montgomery Cycle, 2901 Bethlehem Pike Hatfield, PA • 215-712-7433 www.montgomeryvillecc.com 8 • PJ Whelihan’s 799 Dekalb Pike, Blue Bell, PA • 610-272-8919• pjspub.com December 15, 2019 15 • O’Connor’s American Bar & Grill, 1383 Monmouth Rd Eastampton TWP. NJ • 609261-1555 - CHRISTMAS PARTy. BRING A TOy FOR THE CHILDREN’S HOSPITAL (do NOT wrap present). www.oconnorsmtholly.com

MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTION

22 • The Hamilton Tap & Grill, 557 US Hwy 130, Hamilton Township, NJ • 609-9050925 • hamilton-tap-grill.business.site/ 29 • Rhodes North Tavern, 40 Orange Turnpike, Sloatsburg, Ny • 845-753-6438 www.rhodesnorth.com

JANUARY 2020

5 • Pic-A-Lilli Inn 866 Route 206 Shamong NJ • 609-268-2066 • picalilli.com/albums 12 • Victory Brewing Company, 420 Acorn Ln, Downingtown, PA • 610-873-0881 www.victorybeer.com 19 • Woody’s Roadside Tavern, 105 Academy St, Farmingdale, NJ • 732-938-6404 woodysroadside.com 26 • The Exchange, 160 E. Main St., Rockaway, NJ 07866 • www.exchangefood.com

973-627-8488

FEBRUARY 2020

2 • The Franklin House Tavern, 101 North Market Street, Schaefferstown, PA • 717949-2122 • franklinhousetavern.com 9 • Hooters, 25 Rte 23 South, Wayne, NJ • 973-837-1876 • www.hootersnj.com 16 • Pub 199, 199 Howard Blvd, Mount Arlington, NJ • 973-398-7454 • pub199nj.com 23 • Lighthouse Tavern, lighthousetavern.com

397

Route

9

Waretown,

NJ

•

609-693-3150

MARCH 2020

1 • Long Valley Pub & Brewery, 1 Fairmount Rd., Long Valley, NJ • 908-876-1122 • restaurantvillageatlongvalley.com/long-valley-pub-and-brewery/ 8 • Bahrs Landing, 2 www.bahrslandingnj.com

Bay

Ave.,

Highlands,

NJ

•

732-872-1247

•

15 • Brian’s Harley-Davidson, 600 S. Flowers Mill Rd., Langhorne PA • 215-752-9400 www.brianshd.com 22 • The Hickory BBQ Smokehouse, 743 Route 28, Kingston, Ny • 845-338-2424 www.hickoryrestaurant.com

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APRIL 2020

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