ROADS, RIDES, GOD AND WHISKY

Sometimes what might have been a simple long day ride can be extended by happy circumstances.

There are a few places we try to ride to each summer. The Chesapeake Bay - simply for crabs steamed with Old Bay. West Dover, Vermont - simply because the innkeepers are so great. And Knoebels Amusement Park in Elysburg, Pennsylvania – ‘cause they have the best roller coasters and that is simply the truth.

The park is a great 120 backroads miles from the humble abode we call Backroads Central. We got a very late start this day, but we knew we’d still be at Knoebels by mid-afternoon and we also knew we needed to be in the city of Lancaster the next day as well. Shira did some quick research and came across an attractive inn called the Pine Barn, complete with a restaurant just ten miles or so north of Knoebels. A thought quickly became a plan and the route, once free of the eastern PA traffic, opened up to a superlative combination of elevation changes and twists and turns – some VERY twisty – so if you follow the route out to Knoebels, ride within your sight-line. Okay?

Jimmy Buffett has a line from a song called First look… “Fun tickets in my pocket, visions in my brain. Grandfather always told me if I went down I might never come back again.”

Jimmy was singing about Brazil, but the Fun Tickets line is one we use on a fairly consistent basis.

Have you ever gone to Disneyworld or Six-Flags? Disney… damn mouse wants $109 per day. Six Flags is nearly $80 American.

Knoebels?

Well, there is a reason we go to this place at least once or twice every year. First off, they have motorcycle-only parking, and not 101 miles away, but right at the entrance. And, when you happily park your machine and walk into that entrance you will pay…

Zero, nada, zilch, zippo, naught.

That’s, right boys and girls.

Knoebels is America’s largest free-admission amusement park and also offers free parking, free daily entertainment, and free picnic facilities. ... Kiddie rides, thrill rides, family rides, and attractions—Knoebels has something for everyone.

Little kids, big kids, and everyone in between. Just buy your tickets that come in $5, $10 & $20 books. Those are good forever.

The Phoenix Roller Coaster had its birth in Playland Park in San Antonio, Texas where it was called The Rocket. At its opening, The Rocket was hailed as “the largest roller coaster in the world,” with 3200 feet of track and a 78-foot first hill. This park closed in 1980 and The Rocket was to be dismantled.

Knoebels purchased the ride in 1984 and dismantled it starting in January 1985. As there were no blueprints to work with, each individual board

was numbered and cataloged on site. The restored roller coaster opened at Knoebels on June 15, 1985. It is named after the mythical phoenix bird which rises, reborn, from its own ashes. This effort, the first large-scale wooden roller coaster relocation in many years, helped spark a movement for the restoration and relocation of other roller coasters standing but not operating.

Today, The Phoenix is just simply scary. Wooden, shaking, plummeting… stomach rising into your throat impressive. Well worth the not too long wait to have the bejesus scared out of you.

We only had a few rides we needed to run – our favorite being The Flying Turns – the world’s only “trackless” roller coaster.

Right… simply go freewheeling (I love that), swooping and swerving through some thrilling hairpin turns on the world’s only wooden bobsled rollercoaster! Each car leaves the rails for a ride controlled only by the forces of gravity and momentum. A modern remake of an old classic, this ride will not disappoint the adrenaline seekers. Each time you ride will be a different experience and one not to be missed.

We jumped on the Giant Flume and got soaked and the Carousel let us win the Triple Crown. Well, in our minds, maybe.

But, as brutal as The Phoenix was, we saved the best for last.

The Twister!

The tallest wooden coaster here is a Knoebels original, based on the famous Mister Twister. This relentlessly fast ride goes through swooping curves, a double helix, a dark tunnel, and down several small and large hills for a surprisingly forceful and thrilling experience.

I admit to severely regretting going on The Phoenix, as I was riding with torn rib cartilage from a stair slip at home (seriously, I am safer on the bike

than walking down our freshly re-done wooden floor) and had my eyes closed most of the ride (Shira laughed at me), but The Twister is a favorite of mine. So friggin’ quick and twisty. It’s like MotoGP married Superman flying like a madman. Simply amazing. Violent and rib bashing. I cringed and laughed at the same time like some roller coaster maniac. The giant American flag lashed across the old wooden beams made us feel just a little bit happy as well. It was about time we all did!

You ride The Twister and tell me what you think.

Fun Tickets all gone, we hopped back on our own personal Thrill Rides and followed a slightly circuitous route to the town of Danville.

Now here is the slightly weird part - the inn is located just down the hill from Geisinger Medical Center – a very large hospital.

Hey, if you have been on some of our rallies you might know we can be comfortable with this. Sad, but true.

The inn had clean and comfortable rooms at a decent price and the restaurant was spot on that evening. A future We’re Outta Here! for sure.

But something a little special happened when I rode around to take some images for this story. Just a few blocks from the inn was the most amazing church, actually more than a church – a Basilica.

The stone tower reached high into the blue sky – far higher than anything else in the town of Danville.

I rode over to see what this was, and was amazed. This was something very special; one of just 85 Basilicas in the United States. Although the Catholic Church has many impressive churches and cathedrals, there is a difference. A basilica is a large, important church. The word can also be used for an Ancient Roman building that was used for law and meetings. The word “basilica” is Latin which was taken from the Greek “Basiliké Stoà”. ... A Roman Catholic church that has been given the right to use that name, by the Pope. Only by the Pope.

Their history begins with the lives of their patron saints, Cyril and Methodius, brothers born in Thessalonica (present-day Greece) approximately 1,200 years ago in the ninth century. They journeyed from Thessalonica to Great Moravia (Central Europe) in 863 after Prince Rastislav requested that Emperor Michael III send missionaries to evangelize the Slavic people. Because the Slavic people had no written language, Cyril devised the Glagolitic alphabet – the first alphabet used for Slavonic manuscripts that became Cyrillic script, and one still used by many languages today, including Russian. During their mission trip, Cyril and Methodius brought with them Christianity and began translating into Slavonic the New Testament, many of the Psalms, and the Liturgical Books. The brothers laid the foundation for written Slavic literature and the preservation of their culture. They wrote the first Slavic Civil Code used in Great Moravia and shared their faith there. They also trained native clergy and exercised authority in the spirit of service and humility. The brothers exemplified Christian unity, blending the theological insights and spirituality of Eastern and Western Christianity. In 1980, Pope John Paul II proclaimed them co-patrons of Europe, a tribute to their influence on belief, written word, and culture.

And, after visiting this magnificent church he proclaimed it a Basilica.

Feel free to visit – the Sisters were more than friendly and accommodating this day. Wonderful in every way!

We had a fairly short (for us) ride this day, but one that would hit one of the best motorcycle roads in the Keystone State. The previous day we ran into another rider at a fuel stop and he made it a point of telling us about the PA Dragon – Route 125.

We thanked him but were very aware of this road – which we just call Shamokin (Shmokin’!) after the town where we would pick it up.

Thirty-two miles of awesomeness. This is a must-ride.

When we got to Pine Grove we vectored east to Pottsville for a superb lunch at a very cool place called The Wheel that had every grilled cheese you could dream up and then toured the brewery at Yuengling.

The story of Yuengling is the story of the American Spirit. It’s a tale of shared dreams, individual tenacity, and an unwavering dedication to standards of quality. Like many American stories, it starts amid the dreams of countless young immigrants looking for opportunity and emerges from the strength and will of one family determined to build their legacy in a new country. The story of America’s Oldest Brewery began when David G. Yuengling arrived from Wuerttemberg Germany to settle in the sleepy, coalmining town of Pottsville, Pennsylvania.

It is America’s oldest brewery and the tour was both fun and educating. The “cave” alone is worth making this a destination. But Pottsville has another very odd thing. Something even the “far-too full-of-himself” O’Life did not know.

At one point Pottsville had the largest monument in the USA, to a man that was a three-time loser in US presidential elections. What?

Indeed, Henry Clay lost presidential elections to John Quincy Adams, Andrew Jackson, and James K. Polk. But that’s not why Clay, a slaveowning Senator from Kentucky, has a huge monument in Pottsville, Pennsylvania. It’s because, as a Senator, he pushed through protectionist tariffs on foreign coal and iron, which made Pottsville’s coal and iron more valuable. The idea for a monument was conceived by Samuel Silliman, a local mine owner, and pushed by John Bannon, publisher of a local newspaper. It took three years to build: a cast-iron statue of Clay, 15 feet tall, atop a 51-foot-tall cast iron column, altogether weighing almost 30 tons. It was dedicated on July 4, 1855, the biggest monument in America at that time. Pottsville is so hilly that Bannon could stand on the balcony of his nearby hilltop mansion and admire Henry Clay at eye level. Too bad for the everyday people of Pottsville: a proposed staircase from the main street to the statue was never built. Clay never saw this giant, iron version of himself, either; he had been dead since 1852. But you can see it easily from Dunkin’ Donuts. Yes, it sorta loses something there.

We did need to get to Lancaster by late afternoon, so the ride there was a combination of making time and making fun. We rolled into our hotel by five and were at the Zoetropolis, with fellow journalist Pam Collins and her hubby Tim.

The reason for the blast to Lancaster was that our good friend Alfonse Palaima had been one of the key photographers for a film called Water of Life. For you who do not know what this could be abou,t know it is simple – it’s about whisky. Particularly about one island off the western Scottish coast called Islay.

Islay is the southernmost of the Inner Hebrides islands, off the west coast of Scotland. Along with the neighboring island of Jura, it’s known

for its whisky. Numerous distilleries produce the island’s characteristically peaty single malts. The film was about this – and one distillery – Bruichladdich, whose story is simply more than amazing.

Good for our friend Fonzie and the rest of the producers for bringing this story to an outstanding film.

If you have a free evening and a good bottle of the Water of Life – pour a dram or two and watch this wonderful piece of art and knowledge (wateroflifefilm.com)

There was a tasting afterward and the next morning found us less than ready to go at ‘em! So, a breakfast with Lancaster native and powerhouse salesman for Rider magazine Joe Salluzzo let us fill our bellies and made for a great start to the day. Joe has always been a Class Act and has been a friend of this magazine from the very start. Between him and editor Mark Tuttle, Rider has been one of Backroads’ biggest friends.

We did something different this day as I did not bring a laptop nor had made a route back so I let Garmin’s Curvy Routes do the job for me – which had hits and misses. But we tend to remember the former and not the latter.

Of course, Shira found an ice cream spot that was, conveniently, right off our route. A stop at Lapp Valley Farms in New Holland, PA was a perfect late morning sugar pick-me-up and the ice cream was close to perfection. Shira made a new friend and will tell you all about it in an upcoming Inside Scoop.

Every time we were near the bikes and other people, we were told that storms were coming in. Yea, yea – we ain’t made of sugar.

We rolled into Backroads Central by mid-afternoon. Twenty minutes later all H-E Double Hockey Sticks broke lose. We took it as a win and just, simply, a few more Days in a Life filled with roads, rides, God and whisky. Ride on! ,

~ Brian Rathjen & Shira Kamil