Full Circle - August 26

We are home.

At Mink Pond, a tearful, joyful reunion with the rowdy entourage that is our family made the descent into reality very palatable. Then to be joined by our nephew and great friends was the icing on the cake. Fishing, shooting clays, listening to night songs on the porch and watching shooting stars, we slowly melted into our former life. And best of all, Winnie, our grand daughter of a year and a half, remembered us and can now say our names.

Two days off the bike and we were ready to ride again. Down the mountain and through the Delaware Water Gap, Magic remembered the beautiful River Road that she has run so often and treated it with the same respect that she has afforded every turn on our trip. There were roads we liked better than others, but there were no bad rides.

Music matched our moods as "Bittersweet Symphony" played. We rode through New Hope, past hundreds of bikes parked at bars, and maybe we felt a little smug because of all we had seen and done.

On the road, we met people who were riding from corner to corner ...the northernmost point of Alaska to the southernmost point of South America that is road worthy. So in the realm of extreme motorcycling, we are small change. But we have taken those pennies, nickels and dimes and used them well. I think we are allowed, at least, some pride. We turned 60 and 66 on the road, and are talking about the next trip.

Toward the end of our adventure, Jules and I had a heady conversation about how everything has to end. We will ride soon (maybe next week), but the overtone was obvious. This is the journey we took ... the trip of our lifetime. But coming home to our children and grandchild we know that all the trips in life that we have taken will blossom into others with different settings and new characters. The theme will remain the same.

Thank you all for coming with us.

Day 60 August 22

Symbolically, our sixty days have ended in Coudersport, PA.

Highway from Ohio, then onto 62 once we crossed the state line. Familiar scenes rekindled my respect for this state. The roads we ran were heavily wooded and took us over and around the Allegheny Mountains and down into valleys as we skirted the river. Together we watched as blue herons and ducks entertained us at our picnic on lake Wilhelm in Goddard State Park.

Hermitage, PA, offered a unique attraction. Seeing a sign for The Avenue of 444 Flags, we were drawn into the town. An impressive driveway into the Hillcrest Memorial Park hosts 444 American flags, many with names and pictures of veterans buried there. Why 444? The idea for the avenue was conceived during the Iran hostage crisis in 1979. A flag was flown for every day that the Americans were in captivity. An impressive patriotic display commemorating a difficult moment in America's history, we were silent with emotion.

We turned east on 666, which I have named the "devil road". The last time we rode here, it was pouring and potholes and cracks in the asphalt tried us at every turn. Today , an improved road, dappled with bright sun gave us a sweet ride. Through elk country, we saw only one deer watching us from the woods and two dead land urchins on the road.

We ended our day on route 6, a favorite of motorcyclists. Perfect weather and a road that kept giving saw us riding later than usual. We did not want day 60 to end.

A few days retreat at Mink Pond in the Poconos , where we will reunite with our family, and then home. That will be the actual end to this journey.

Every day on the road has been a celebration of life. Wind in our faces, highway under our wheels and God's Country at each turn, gifts were given that have no price. For sixty days Jules and I have been attached to each other on Magic as we soared through a lifetime of experience as one. Never closer, our time riding America has given us the greatest gift of all . . . each other.

Indian Summer 11/12/12

When it is sixty degrees in November, Nature has handed you one more chance to ride and we welcomed the gift.

Not every time we swing our legs over the bike do we travel great distances to unknown places. Today we rode on Indian Summer country roads, blanketed with yellow leaves. Past farmland and grassy marshes, we wound our way to Greenwich, NJ for what could be the last picnic of the season. Sheltered from wind and warmed by the water, we lunched by the Delaware Bay. Our companions were hawks and osprey. Such peace and solitude aptly lulled us from an adventurous summer and a tumultuous fall into a drowsy state of total relaxation.

Our lunch was long and our time alone together invaluable. Back on the bike, we rode to the edge of the bay. Weather damage was apparent everywhere and sea grass and sand covered the road. The contrast between the destruction of the storm and the beauty of the day was sadly ironic.

As we headed home, the shortened day lengthened our shadows way too soon. Hopefully there will be other riding days before the spring, and if not, we have all that was today to take us through the winter.

The Epic named Sandy humbled us all beyond imagination. Nature showed us her evil side and powered us into submission. Then on a random Monday in November, gold blooms on blue skies and the sun warms away the knots in your shoulders. It's almost like an apology . . . and I accept!