Pat Henderson's Life and Motorcycle Travels Blog

The Journey to the Journey

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Tue, 06 Sep 2016 03:34:00 +0000

4:15 am, that is what time we finally pull out of the drive. Our journey has begun. For the next three days there would be no motel rooms, no restaurants. Only gas fill ups and the occasional snooze at the truck stops. Behind us on the trailer are the motorcycles. The van, now thirteen years old is towing the trailer with bikes better than I expect. Although Andy claims not to have had a second thought about it. He has an advantage I don't. He's spent the last month making sure the van is ready for the trip. Our destination? Arizona. One of the states on my bucket list.

Andy being ever frugal, refused the swap out the trailer tires before we leave as they still had "meat" on them. Although not born a New Englander, he possesses the New Englander's spirit of frugality. The old saying, "use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without" could have been coined by him. We have a spare set in the van, and after the 1st thousand mile have to find someone along our route to mount them on the rims. The "spares" are actually car tires and seem to be doing a better job than any trailer tires we've sunk good money into.

As the country side rolls by, we find that we enjoy this part of the trip as much as we do the actually riding part. From just what crops are growing, changing accents of the locals to even what we see as road kill, all of it is interesting to us. Traveling by day and by night has its oddities too. You meet a different breed of people on the night road. At one truck stop we met a chatty trucker. He had no southern twang and it turns out he and his brother had, a few years back, gone in together on a rig, quit their jobs in their home state of Connecticut and never looked back. He just loves being on the road.

On day three we arrive at our destination of Holbrook Arizona. Tomorrow our two wheeled adventure beings. Although I had wanted to stay in the iconic Wigwam motel, there is alas "no room at the inn". So the Super 8 it is. And after a dip in the pool, we enjoy our first real meal and next, I will lay my head and tired body on an actual bed for a good nights rest.

Odyssey on Two Wheels

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Mon, 29 Aug 2016 19:24:00 +0000

Odysseys is defined as a long wandering voyage or journey full of adventure. Also as a series of experiences that give knowledge or understanding. That is how I feel about our upcoming two wheeled expedition. At the end of this week, we will hook up the trailer, travel more than 2,000 miles to embark on our own Arizona odyssey. Granted some of the knowledge or understanding may be learned in just the nearly nonstop drive we are planning to get there. It will be a true test of our nearly 40 year marriage. (40 years in October.) A test of endurance for sure.

I have charted out a very ambitious circuitous route of over 1,000 miles for the two wheeled portion of our odyssey. Usually, when people think Arizona, they also think Grand Canyon. There will be no major tourist stops unless you consider Sedona high on that list. So let me dissuade you from that image before it burns into your mind.

Beginning in the northeast portion of the state we will “attempt” to get a room at the iconic Wigwam motel. If not, a photo stop is on my list for sure. From there we will visit the Petrified Forest, then make a stop at the Impact Crater. Something I have only seen from a plane. Then we make our way to Flagstaff. After a small jaunt north to Sunset Crater, we will continue southerly visiting cities and towns like Sedona, Prescott, Wickenburg, and Jerome, eventually ending us in Tombstone. After Tombstone we will test or mettle on Devils Highway as we close the loop. (Check out the great blog in the link.)

The Wigwam Motel

Holbrook AZ

It’s been a long summer with a modicum of riding compared to what we typically do. We’ve spent a good portion of our time on the hunt for a replacement bike for Andy, and in dealing with insurance companies. To say I’m looking forward to this trip would be an understatement. I love traveling and there is no better way to see this great country of ours than on two wheels. And considering that this is the 100 anniversary of the National Parks system, a number of our stops will be through several. Stop back here in the next two weeks and I will post photos of our stops, and update with longer text as time permits. Don’t forget to check out my Facebook page, Motorcycle Touring and Travel Community. Like my page so you are notified when I post photos there as well.

Our planned loop.

Déjà Vu

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Tue, 16 Aug 2016 20:18:00 +0000

When all was said and done, the insurance company returned a verdict of “totaled” for Andy’s 2004 Vulcan. The dejected look on Andy’s face said more than any words he could have expressed. He loves that motorcycle! Then began his investigation into purchasing the bike back from the insurance as salvage and rebuilding the bike to its glory. First we discovered the true cost of rebuild which was astronomical, but that wasn’t the only problem. We would have to apply for a “salvage title” from the state at a cost of $10. Then once repaired would be subjected to the state’s approved “savage inspector” at a cost of $50. Followed by a regular state inspection, and new registration. All in all, it really wasn’t worth it, but Andy being who he is needed to see all the facts laid out.

Hence began our search for a replacement for the same price the insurance was paying us for the totaled bike. Where are you going to find a great bike for $3100? One that would be everything you had just lost. We did find a few in our price range but none of them “called” his name. His loss was too fresh and no substitute was going to fill that void.

Then on Craigslist to my amazement I saw a motorcycle twin just a 45 minute ride away. We went for a visit. The ad said “needs battery and tune up”. So Andy came prepared with the battery from the old bike. We arrived and saw the bike, body was great, mileage only 12,000. Wow, on a 2004? That’s barely broken in. And before even sitting on the thing Andy was making an offer of $3100, which the guy seemed all too quick accept.

That is when Andy decided to pop in the battery and take her around the block. Once the battery was in, the bike was hard to start. After a few backfires, she started and off he went. But on his return, having been alerted with “hard to handle steering” he had a change of heart. They guy dropped it another $100. Andy apologized and said we would be going on our way.

In the next week we saw nothing else for sale in our price range. We also spoke with a few dealers about the hard steering. With their suspicion that the bald tires would cause that, we sent the guy a note and said we’d take it for the $3000. It was a gamble.

Andy went to get it, loaded on the trailer and brought it home. Then began the stripping of chrome and bags off the old bike and transferring it to the new. Andy even swapped the tires out too. Poor old totaled Vulcan looked a sight, but new Vulcan was looking better than ever. Andy feverishly spent every spare hour at it as we weren’t sure when the salvage truck would arrive.

Once the new replacement Vulcan had all the chrome, highway bar, bags and new tires on, Andy once again tried to start it. Nothing happened. It sputtered but not even a backfire could be had. He got off the bike, removed the air filter cover and discovered a family of mice had taken up residence! Once cleared out the bike started and off to the dealer for a tune up.

I’m happy to report that the bike runs like a charm. The mechanic was impressed with the nice body and running condition after its tune-up. And just in time as we are now on schedule for our epic vacation to Arizona; the major reason for the frenetic search for a replacement. I find it amusing that the bike is identical save the windshield, backrest and lack or light bar, but to each his own. And none too soon as the truck was in sight.

Old Bike

New Bike

Donating parts and chrome.

Getting some chrome.

Seeing double

Goodbye old friend. Such an undignified end.

Expect the Unexpected

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Thu, 14 Jul 2016 13:13:00 +0000

You’ve all heard the platitude, “expect the unexpected”, and no truer sentiment can a motorcyclist hold any time they head out on the highways and byways of this beautiful country of ours. This, and skills training may keep you alive. On a recent motorcycling vacation through upstate New York, this tired platitude served us well.

We had just traveled the length of Skaneateles Lake, one of the Finger Lakes in Upstate NY. Of all the Finger Lakes, this is the one with the highest altitude. And indeed we were even higher still as we could view this lake from the ridge on which we rode.

After riding down from the ridge to the lake, dipping our toes in the water to cool off and meeting some great people, we headed on our way back to the ridge, around the northern tip of Skaneateles, to the northern tip of Owasco Lake. Here our lovely two lane country road ended, and we dropped into the outer fringes of the city of Auburn. This is where we met Carol by “accident”. Carol, age 76 was parked along the curb right near the clump of trees inside the blue circle of the photo below.

As we came along, Carol pulled out. No directional, no rear lights to indicate she was about to move. Andy aggressively applied the brakes, squealing tires with the effort and attempting an evasive move into the opposite lane. But Carol wasn’t just pulling away from the curb. She was attempting a U turn. With no exit Andy’s front end met her car just behind the front driver side door. Thankfully she stopped short and Andy in a very LOUD voice told her not to move as he was now pinned between bike and car. People appeared from every doorway, helped right the bike which was leaning at an angle against the car with Andy in between. Someone called the police. All of these people were very kind and helpful.

Andy is OK, and here is where I want to do a bit of lecturing. Andy did everything right and walked away as a result. He used the brakes. ALL of them. This slowed him down from 30 MPH to whatever it was when he made impact. He did not “lay it down” as some people claim them must do. If he had, he would not have been able to slow or reduce his impact. He had on his jacket, helmet and a pair of Kevlar riding jeans. Despite the jeans he did receive a puncture wound just above the boot where his leg met the petcock.

After exchanging information, filing police report and calling the insurance, Andy inspected the bike. The tire rim did not seem bent and the motorcycle still rode true. The headlight was broken, but he still had the two extra lights working on the light bar. (We later discovered the headlight bulb had not broken and still worked. So we covered with a plastic sheet and protected the bulb.) We pulled the fender out with a crowbar and continued on our vacation. The motorcycle looks a bit bedraggled, and yesterday we discovered that the dealer considers it totaled. That is mostly because it’s a 2004 so the book value is low compared to what the parts cost to fix it. If Andy has his way, he will get it repaired.

Andy was determined not to let this mar his vacation and we continued on to enjoy Lake Ontario, tour Fort Ontario and more great roads around upstate NY. We ended our trip in Kinston NY where our daughter was taking part in her first ever triathlon. We are proud of her and happy we were able to witness her accomplishment.

I will close with my usual lecture. If you haven’t taken the basic rider safety course, do so. It’s never too late. Or take the experience rider course. A refresher is never a bad thing. Practice your skills in parking lots, wear your gear. Your daughter might be the next one waiting for you at her first ever event.

Motorcycle Safety is Everyone's Resposbility

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Wed, 01 Jun 2016 14:53:00 +0000

As mentioned in a previous post, I am now writing speeches as a member of Toastmasters International. I'm going to be giving my third speech in 2 weeks. I thought I would share the content of that speech since being an advocate of motorcyclists is what I intend to do with my speaking skills.
Here is what I plan to say. Your feedback is much appreciated.

I‘m an avid motorcyclist. Motorcycling to me is a thoroughly enjoyable pastime. My philosophy is a bike on the road is worth two in the shed. Yet when people discover that I ride a motorcycle, the first thing they say to me is “that it’s so dangerous!” I never know how to respond to this. In part because I have no idea what they know or don’t know about motorcycling. And their experience or lack thereof is the perception of motorcycling from which they make this statement. Sometimes I’m tempted to say “sure motorcycling can be dangerous, but so is barreling down the highway at 70 mph in 2 tons of metal. Yet we do it every day.”

And that is the point really. Yes, there is risk. The reality is most things we do in our life involve risk. Skiing, swimming, and boating for example. Whether we may be consciously aware or not, each of us understands, evaluates, and try to minimize those risk for ourselves. Ultimately accepting some level of the risk involved.

When people want to talk to me about the dangers of riding I tell them “anybody can ride a motorcycle, but not everyone should.” The first thing a person contemplating riding should ask themselves is “what kind of driver am I?” A person who has had several “close calls” or is prone to fender benders should think more than twice about riding a motorcycle. The type of driver you are doesn’t change what kind of rider you will be. And a fender bender on a motorcycle is a lot more serious than in a car.

Let me asking this question. How many of you would let your teenage son or daughter driver the family car without any driver training? Not many people would. Yet every day someone gets on a motorcycle without any basic rider training and don’t think twice about it.

In truth 92% of riders involved in accidents are essentially without training, are self-taught, or learned from a family or friend. In addition these riders were significantly without motorcycle license, without any license, or have had their license revoked. Of these riders 96% are males between the ages of 16 -24. Which brings me back to question about your teen driving the family car without training.

One of the major hazards for motorcyclists are other vehicles. Statistically, people making left hand turns are the major culprits. The experts are still out on why this is so but have offered some theories on why. It may be that people look left, right and pull out without looking left again. They may misjudge the distance the bike is from them, or the speed at which it is approaching because of its smaller profile when compared to cars. Distracted driving is another cause of many accidents and not just for motorcyclist, although for us it’s more deadly. Despite new laws about cell phone use, and texting this law continues to be violated. I have a personal risk avoidance technique of my own. Whenever I see a car with a sticker that reads “baby on board” I stay well clear even when in my car. Unfortunately busy moms picking their kids up at daycare and racing home to fix the evening meal are in my experience the most distracted.

People who are close to me know that I am risk averse. How is it you might think that I even get on a motorcycle? I practice risk management. First I pay attention to the things I can control.

I don’t drink and drive. Alcohol and substance abuse is a major contributor to motorcycle crashes. Nearly 50 % of all riders killed being under the influence. 50%! People don’t seem to understand statistic and use them to there benefit, which is probably why they buy a Powerball ticket which has a 1 in 292 million chance of winning.
I don’t ride when I’m fatigued or drowsy.
I don’t get on the bike when I’m upset, angry, stressed or emotionally troubled.
I don’t ride beyond my limits or practice aggressive riding. If you ride like there's no tomorrow - there won't be.

Next I try to minimize the risks I have no direct control over. These are my personal 4.

I’ve taken the basic rider training course. Taking this course has shown to reduces my risk by 25%.
I practice being conspicuous. Tips on how to become more conspicuous are covered in the training.
I examine the bike before each ride.
I wear safety gear.

The month of May was motorcycle awareness month. I say every day is motorcycle awareness since people are riding nearly year round. Please, the next time you are tempted to remark to a rider about how dangerous motorcycling is, instead, ask this person if they’ve taken the Basic Rider training course. If not, encourage them to do so and tell them gray-haired riders don't get that way from pure luck. Then consider if we collectively are all doing everything possible to keep from being that danger. I’m pleased to report that the state of NH has added a section about motorcycle awareness to the new driver training manual. And that is good, because motorcycle safety is everyone’s responsibility.

New Hampshire History one Marker at a Time

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Fri, 08 Apr 2016 19:25:00 +0000

The State of New Hampshire just made it easier for me to plan my weekends during the coming riding season. They have just revamped their Historical Highway Markers site with mobile friendly GIS technology (geographic information system). This new site is perfect for planning day and overnight adventures. Especially if you like to plan themed rides as I do. An additional plus is that the site is sectioned off into regions, has driving directions to markers, and KML file.

When selecting a region of the state to explore, the site opens to photos of the markers in that region. As you scroll each one the location is marked in text below the photo. Beside the photo is a Google Earth view with overlays of its exact location. You can enlarge or reduce the map size to suit your preference. Each section allows you to see how many markers are in that region as well as the marker number issued by the state. One caution, some markers are out for repair, so make sure to double check the “installed” notice.

No markers in my town so I looked in the towns of my riding buddies.
Found one!

While the interactive map is great, I’m going to want these in my Garmin. If you are looking to convert KML files to GPX or GDB try using GPS Babel. Then just load it all into the GPS. Prefer your information in a different format? Not to worry. At the NH Division of Historical Resources page you can access links to a List of Markers by Town or a List of Markers by Marker Number. These are PDF files. I’m thinking of keeping a copy in my saddlebags for reference.

If you live in New Hampshire or will be visiting soon, the state has a photo sharing campaign going on right now. They are asking folks to take photos of our favorite historical places. Use the “locate me” technology on your mobile device and add the photo to the My New Hampshire website. Mark with hashtag “Marking History. They are looking to groups such as motorcyclists to help with the campaign.

I know I’m not alone is having little vacation time during the year and needing to make the most of weekend trips. I’m going to review these locations and plan some fabulous routes to see them. I have been amazed over the years at the places I’ve never visited in my own backyard. There is a wealth of beauty and a plethora of ideas on how to enjoy the place you call home. If one just takes the time to dig.

Sisters Centennial Motorcycle Ride

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Mon, 14 Mar 2016 15:42:00 +0000

Ladies here is a great opportunity to take part in an epic ride and honor women motorcyclists. This Sisters’ Centennial Motorcycle Ride from New York to San Francisco will take place July 3 – 24, 2016. The catalyst for this event is the 100^th anniversary of Augusta and Adeline Van Buren’s courageous ride across the United States on motorcycles. At a time when women didn’t even have the right to vote and few roads were paved, these two accomplished something unprecedented in their time.

This ride is limited to 100 women, but there are opportunities to take part all along the way. Check out this great article in Women Riders Now and then visit the website to see how you can participate in this event.

The ride will loosely follow the route these sisters took, which is mostly along the Lincoln Highway. There are fully guided tours as well as self-guided options. Members of Augusta and Adeline’ family will also take part in the ride. Augusta and Adeline both went on to lead exceptional lives achieving what few women of their time could, and leading the way as examples to empower us today.

We've come a long way baby and I can't think of a better way to celebrate than this event. Even if you can't get the time off work to do a cross country trip there are celebrations taking part in Springfield MA and San Francisco CA that you can join.

For those of us who will be stuck in the office, here are some great reading suggestions.

Unassuming Advocate on the Loose

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Wed, 10 Feb 2016 14:33:00 +0000

Have you had unpleasant or unfortunate incidences while riding? I think we all have had and I’m no exception. Yet, when you speak to non-riders they scratch their heads at why one would continue to ride after an unpleasant event. I’m not talking here about accidents, serious or otherwise, I’m talking general everyday oops, or near misses type events. At these times I ask these people a few questions of my own, such as “have you ever had a fender bender, or been the victim of road rage. I get a lot of yeses. Then I ask them “and you continue to drive? Is that wise when there is so much that can go wrong?” They don’t have an answer for that one, or I am dismissed outright.

I’ve written here about all of my experiences. I’m not one to hold back and I speak quite frankly about all that occurs; the good, the bad and the ugly. I’m very fortunate not to have much bad or ugly. I’ve had near misses, been the victim of road rage and just plain inconsideration or ignorance of what it’s like to be on a motorcycle by those who never have. I get angry sometimes, but my personality is such that my anger dissipates. While I don’t tend to forget an incident I don’t go around the world holding hate or revenge in my heart. Life is too short for that. I have better things to do and better places to go than be saddled with such emotions.

Recently I joined a Toastmasters group with a few of my colleagues as part of our work related continuing education. Toastmasters International is a world leader in communication and leadership development. What does this mean? It means I’m in training for public speaking, impromptu speaking, and leadership skills. I also find it the perfect venue to begin a public awareness series on what it’s like to ride, why we do, and the experiences we have. Why should motorcycling not be as accepted as say, boating, four wheeling, snowmobiling and the like? We’ve heard terrible stories of what has happened to some of these, yet they aren’t maligned as often as motorcyclists or as misunderstood.

Those of you who have followed my blog since 2007 know of my passion for writing. That I write from my experiences, belong to writers groups, and have been published on several occasions. My love of writing is taking on a new twist, speech writing. My first speech will focus on lessons learned in my youth, and it sets the stage for what is to come. While this first speech won’t have a motorcycle around anywhere, it does have a sled. A sled upon which I road right through thin ice. Did I give up sledding? Did anyone ever say to me “why would you ever ride a sled knowing what can happen? No. Therein lies the crux of what I hope to convey. I hope that I will be as eloquent and persuasive in speaking about motorcycling as I try to be when writing about it.

Motorcycling Tips for Novices (True stories delivered tongue in cheek)

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Fri, 04 Dec 2015 19:20:00 +0000

I reached a milestone this year, 100,000 miles of travel on two wheels. If you couldn’t tell by the name of my blog, yes, I’m a motorcyclist and travel on two wheels is what I do. Now that I have some experience under my belt, I thought it was time I passed on some advice to you novices out there and for those thinking of taking up the sport. First, a few facts about motorcycles.

Number 1: They’re heavy. The weight averages between 400 lbs. to 800 lbs. give or take depending on model.

Number 2: When not moving, motorcycles don’t balance very well. So my first piece of advice for you is this; before you get off your motorcycle, make sure the kickstand is down, or learn the technique below.

Next: Riding in groups. One of the enjoyments of motorcycling, is riding with a group. You will need to learn a few of the hand signals used when riding in a group. For instance, (hand down) this means “slow down”, and this (one finger up) means single file. Another hand signal that is often used is this (finger pointing over the head). This means there is something or someone on the side of the road to pay attention too. But I found there are variations to this particular signal and I’m going to help you understand the nuances.

This (hand flapped lazily over the head) may mean “watch out for the old man and his dog.”

This (pointing vigorously over the head) may mean “check out the hot chick jogging in the short shorts.”

I’ve included an important hand signals below to commit to memory especially if you want to join the New England Riders.

It's All About the Pie

Next, let’s talk about personalizing. Motorcyclists love to pimp out their rides. Be sure to check out your fellow riders’ motorcycle for bling. You’ll be surprised at the amount of gadgets that can fit on a pair of handlebars. There are a few things to be aware of however, so read on.

My first year riding, I got a small GPS so I could find my way home if lost, and I wanted to look cool like the others. I purchased the special mount for it too. On my first group ride with it, not yet being accustomed to looking down at the GPS, I discovered that it was missing! Not knowing when in the last 50 miles it had vanished, I didn’t to stop the whole group, and just continued on. At the next stop three riders came up to me and said;

“We have some good news for you and some bad news. Which do you want first?”

“The good news” I said.

“We found your GPS!”

Me: Yeah! (Oh wait.) “What’s the bad news?"

“Three motorcycles ran over it before we picked it up.”

New riders, check to make sure items are securely attached to your handlebars. Don’t let this happen to you.

Many of the items attached to handlebars are also attached to the battery. One day, a few of us pulled over for lunch, and suddenly smoke began billowing from under seat and just above the gas tank. One thing I know for sure is that smoke and four gallons of gas is not a good combination. I became frozen to my seat! The only thought in my mind at that moment was “this is not how Dad envisioned me dying on my bike!” In the next moment my husband is yelling the seat is flying off and his hands are pulling every wire he can see from the battery. Lesson: If you’re going to add electronics, make sure you add the fuses too. The only smoke you want to see is on purpose.

Next were going to discuss riding in a variety of weather conditions.
One year we signed up for a fall foliage ride. When we left the thermometer was hovering just above freezing. But we had 50 miles to the start point and no time to wait for it to warm up a bit. When we arrived not only were my fingers frozen, so were my toes! In agony, I managed to get a boot off wanting to massage my feet between my hands. One rider seeing my thin socks, and having pity on me, reached into his saddle bag and handed me a brand new pair of thermal socks. My fingers were so cold I was fumbling and dropping the pair. The rider kneeled down, took off my thin socks, put the thermal socks on and even replaced my boots. Then he stood there a moment and said:
“I feel like I need a cigarette. I’ve never actually dressed a woman before.”

Lesson: Dress for the weather!

However, just because you start out dressed for the weather, doesn’t mean it won’t change. So be prepared for anything. For instance, a couple of years ago on one of our trips, the skies got dark and a few sprinkles began to spatter our face shields, so my husband and I stopped to put on our rain gear. I pulled over, (and put the kickstand down), got off the bike, reached into the saddle bag, pulled out the rain suit, put it on and remounted the motorcycle. The whole process took less than a minute. I’m ready to leave when I notice my husband has the contents of both his saddle bags strewn around the ground. Then, with a look of success, he pulls from the pile his rain gear. That began a 20 minute adventure in how to put it on! In the end I had to help him dress. I have a great tutorial video of all this I took from my helmet cam. Unfortunately, someone just out of camera view is using colorful language so watch the video at your own risk and with full disclosure.

Advice: Not only carry rain gear, know where you packed it, and practice putting it on before any trip.

Traveling by motorcycle is always a great adventure. It takes you to far flung places you wouldn’t otherwise have traveled. Some places have unfamiliar territory which can lead to excitement. Last winter we went to Florida as Dayton Bike Week was on my bucket list. One day, we decided to look at that piece of property we inherited but have never seen. The road was not paved, which on two wheels isn’t a very happy occurrence unless you have a dual or sport bike. But on we went. At intervals there were puddles across the road. My husband went through the first, and the second. But having just washed my bike, I wasn’t inclined to follow. At the third puddle I watched in horror as first the tires disappeared beneath water, then the tailpipes, and finally the saddle bags! He started to list to the left and I thought he too would vanish beneath the surface! This is when I finally understood what people mean when they say “time stood still.” First I thought, “Good thing we have road side assistance”. Then, “I wonder who will dive to the bottom to retrieve the bike?” With relief I heard his exhaust pipes gurgling under water as he opening up the throttle. His rear wheel found purchase and he popped out the other side. We looked at each other from across the abyss. It was the quietest two minutes of our marriage. My next words to him where. “Now what are you going to do.”

So my novices, next time in your unfamiliar territory, remember, things aren’t always as they seem. Those funny videos you see of vehicles vanishing into deceptive puddles are real.

Now that you are armed with all these important tips I feel you are prepared to begin your own motorcycling adventures.

Happy trails!

At Trails End

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Mon, 12 Oct 2015 14:26:00 +0000

The Sunday before Columbus Day turned out to be perfect weather for us to complete the Whispering Giants Grant Tour in one 312 mile loop from NH, to RI, back up to Plymouth MA and home again. The tour has been quite the education. First, in learning about Peter Wolf Toth and his lifelong dedication to sculpting American Indians, to appreciation of the areas in which they are found. As for my claim that the tour is complete, it is as far as chasing statues. I may still have an opportunity for 10 more points if the weather holds out through October. If I can get a photo of the Massachusetts state flag in full furl, that is good for bonus points. It was surprising that we could not find one in our travels through Massachusetts yesterday. This was despite stopping at numerous schools and local government buildings and police stations. We found the American flag, the POW flag, and the Minuteman flag. No state flag. I don’t live too far from the northern Massachusetts state line, so a quick trip on another fine weekend just might do it. I have until October 31st, which is the close of the contest.

Why spend so much time joining such contests? Well, for me, it’s an excuse to ride someplace, anyplace I haven’t been before. Or as in the case of Plymouth, a place I have been to, but never knew what I was looking at. I enjoy any adventure that has an historical significance too. On some of our rides, we wrapped other adventures into the mix. The statues in Florida were part of my milestone birthday adventure and the Daytona Beach Rally in March. In May we went to see our new grandson, and took a side ride to Bar Harbor for statue # 46. On the trip to Laconia, the adventure was in getting home on the canvas that started showing on my rear tire. In Burlington, a place I have been to numerous times, it was my first visit to Battery Park; a gorgeous setting along Lake Champlain. Dunkirk, Sharon and Williamsport were part of a July 4th four day odyssey. We learned to trust the GPS, for when it told us to get off the highway and then back on, it was because the statue was at the east bound welcome center. It wasn’t a total waste of time. We did get a nice little ride through the neighboring towns in Ohio, and we didn’t argue with the GPS when it did the same to us in Springfield MA. This one we found without too much looping around the area.

Our one big disappointment was in Williamsport PA, when we discovered that the Giant there had been removed by the town fathers only two weeks before our arrival. A kind woman in the park told us of the uproar and many newspaper articles that ensued because town folk were not forewarned. Nor do the town fathers plan on restoring and reinstalling it at a later date which raised their ire further.

While in Rhode Island (a beautiful state by the way), we thought about two of our friends that live here, yet no time to visit. Why is life always so “on a schedule” that we don’t have time to stop and smell the roses? (Sigh) So on we went to Plymouth MA, were we did make time in our schedule to see our oldest daughter, her husband, and our two grandchildren. For me, it was heartwarming to see those two little ones, as much as they seemed thrilled to see us. Is there any better way to end a tour than that?

Enjoy the slide show below:

List of Whispering Giants we’ve visited:

#44 Fort Lauderdale FL. (no name)
#10 Punta Gorda, FL, Calostimucu
#23 Charleston SC, Landing Brave
# 46 Bar Harbor, Maine, Glooscap
# 48 Laconia, New Hampshire, Keewakwa Abenaki Keenahbeh
#47 Battery Park Burlington VT. Chief Grey Lock
# 7 Dunkirk, New York, Ong-Gwe-Ohn-Weh
#6 Sharon PA (no name)
#65 Williamsport, Pennsylvania, Chief Woapalanee
#49 Springfield, Massachusetts. Omiskanoagwiak
#42 Narragansett, Rhode Island, Enishkeetompauog
#45 Plymouth, Massachusetts, Enisketomp.

Falling Into Just Riding instead of Writing...Whispering Giants Tour.

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Fri, 24 Jul 2015 20:44:00 +0000

I've been meaning to post all about my mini vacation around Independence Day but so far, all I have managed to do is upload my pictures. Before much more time gets away from me, here are some photos from our 1400 mile adventure.

Whispering Giant in Dunkirk NY. Right on Lake Erie.

Enjoying the views of the lake on July 4th.

Lighthouse in Dunkirk.

More views along the lake.

Whispering Giant in Sharon PA on the Ohio state line.

Very disappointing to discover the Whispering Giant

in Williamsport PA was taken down

2 weeks before my arrival.

Nothing but a pedestal and metal bars.

We had to get off the highway as there was a major traffic jam.

But we found some great byways and exceptional homes to admire.

Since Williamsport was such a bust,

we took a swing through Springfield MA

for this Whispering Giant. (seen in the background)

If anyone would like more details, just write. I'll make a list of questions and post another entry.

Star Island and the Zero Wheeled Adventure

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Thu, 02 Jul 2015 20:11:00 +0000

Browsing the newspaper I see an article about an island in the Isles of Shoals. The Isles of Shoals are just off the New Hampshire coast and consists of nine islands. This island in particular, Star Island, is planning a centennial celebration of their incorporation complete with birthday cake and a tour of the island. Also planned for the day is a dedication ceremony unveiling their new power source said to be the largest off-grid solar array in New England. Well that sounded like a fun time to me so I held the news article up for Andy to see. With a nod of the head I go online and buy two tickets for the Thomas Laighton Steamship. While the party, tour, and dedication ceremonies are free to the public, getting there is not, yet I don't blink once as I purchase my tickets for the ride. After a short consideration, I opt out of the overnight stay at the hotel.

The Thomas Laighton behind me.

The day arrives with bright sunshine, calm seas and a boatload of people waiting to board the Thomas Laighton. Not all are visiting Star Island. Most are taking the narrated Isle of Shoals tour, which takes about 2 1/2 hours to complete. Our guide is very knowledgeable about the history of Portsmouth NH and Kittery Maine as we steam toward the mouth of the Piscataqua River. We pause a moment as we wait for the bridge to rise and we pass beneath. There is history here too. The bridge has been recently refurbished and opened, but the original Eagle on the NH side was saved and hoisted into it's place of honor where he has been proudly displayed for many years. We pass the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard and our guide even knows which subs are docked and points them out. We pass the now abandoned Naval Prison, which to me is starting to look like a blight on the landscape. During his narration, our guide mentions to those staying overnight on the island, that they will have to wait an extra day to return. Bad weather is forecast for the next day and the Thomas Laighton will not be running. Nor will any other steamship be out on the seas tomorrow. I'm now glad I didn't fork out the cash for an overnight stay.

Going under the bridge.

See the sub near the dock on the left, just showing above the water.

The abandoned Naval Prison.

At the mouth of the river there are a few remnants from past wars. On the Maine side is Fort McClary and on the Portsmouth side is Fort Constitution. Both of these Andy and I have visited by land. And right at the mouth of the river are the caissons that once held the netting strung across the opening during WWII that was meant to keep German subs out of the river. (And not very successfully I might add.) We watch for minke whales that have been busy here this past week but while there is no sign of them today a seal does pop up and escort us for several minutes.

Fort McClary

Fort Constitution

Caissons

We arrive at noon to the sounds of music and the smell of hot dogs and burgers on the grill. We take time for lunch enjoying the views from the island. Across we can see White Island. During winter storms the surf completely crashes over this light. Which is only one reason why it is no longer manned. Most lighthouses these days are automated, so no worries about ships running aground. Cake is next, served with fanfare and the local TV network recording it all. After our cake we walk to the solar array for the dedication ceremony. More speeches and photos. Back to the hotel there is just time for a short slide presentation on they why's and how's of the boards decision to incorporate solar power onto the island. Then we are off for the walking tour.

Click here to listen to a selection.

White Island and Lighthouse

During the walking tour we learn much about the islands early history, how the people survived, and how people live there today. Everything here must accommodate being earth friendly and renewable. Fresh water comes from many places; osmosis, one well, and rain water or carried in. Since fresh water must be conserved toilets are still flushed with sea water. They have their own treatment facility, grow vegetables raise chickens and recycle everything that can possibly be recycled. What they can't do for themselves is carried in or out by steamboat.

With the foot tour over we have just enough time to visit the marine lab. It's small and personal with lots of hands on. With a serious warning to be on time we make haste for the pier. Here the music plays and we enjoy some last minute tunes before returning to the mainland. Goodbye Star Island. We had a great time!

Don't forget to click on the link under the musicians to hear a selection of their repertoire.

Chief Grey Lock

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Sun, 21 Jun 2015 21:56:00 +0000

With the remnants of hurricane Bill heading our way we decided to wrap an overnight trip into a one day ride. That ride became a riding odyssey that culminated at arriving home 12 hours after our departure and one hour short of the torrential rain. My neck, shoulders and butt still ache which leaves me wondering how many half Iron Butt days are still in me.

The purpose of this ride was to visit yet another Whispering Giant. The day was so gorgeously bright and sunny it was hard to believe that by nightfall we would see rain. Our destination; Burlington Vermont. We took the "almost" direct route, which in NH is route 89. Since we don't live near any easy way to access 89 quickly there is usually a bit of back roads. Hence the "almost" in the direct route. We arrived and found the Giant very easily thanks to the GPS coordinates I have saved in my Garmin. If you go, you can find this Giant in Battery Park along Lake Champlain. Burlington is a very beautiful spot in Vermont. Yet Vermont is so full of beautiful spots it is hard for me to say it's the best. I did wish at the time that I had a few days to just sit by the lake and enjoy this place.

The Whispering Giant is in the middle of the park. There is no parking along the park side of the streets that surround it. I found a gas station across the way that had a view through the trees and parked Blaze in a side street right up against the intersection so I could see the statue through the foliage. I got a few decent pictures, but they didn't make me all that happy. I packed up and moved the bike to the gas station parking lot and went inside. Here we purchased our traditional riding lunch of premade gas station food to eat in the park along the water. While inquiring about restrooms, we were told there were public ones at the police station across the street.

After our yummy gas station food and soda pop (tonic if you're a New Englander) we wandered over to the police department to use the facilities. It was a busy little place with youthful looking people filing reports for this and that. Outside filling out paperwork for yet another person was a motorcycle officer. Once he was finished I approached him about riding Blaze on the sidewalk in the park to get a better photo explaining that the contest benefitted a children's charity. While not too friendly he was courteous and said it would be OK. To be fair about the friendliness he did have a lot going on. Before anyone could change their mind I had Blaze in the park taking a decent shot right in front of Chief Grey Lock.

Now we were to turn around and head back home the long way. The long way included climbing Mt Philo. Mt Philo is not a very tall mountain at just under a 1,000 feet, but there are a couple of switchbacks to make the ride interesting. The views of Lake Champlain and the Adirondack Mountain chain beyond in New York were stupendous! The Adirondack chairs placed strategically along the overlooks seemed fitting indeed.

We meandered south and then east until we came to route 17. Route 17 is a popular motorcycle destination along the Mad River over Camel's Hump and one I've enjoyed in the past. Most people head east to west. There is a great overlook about halfway. We were heading west to east. The westerly side needs some road attention with Andy describing the bumps as "moguls" and some cracks in the pavement that I consider fissures. One one mogul my phone leaped out of its holder. I still don't know how I managed to catch it, control the bike going uphill and pull over so I could put it in a safer spot. The ride down was better and we eventually reconnected with route 100.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, but as evening began to creep in so did the clouds. We had to stop and put more layers on too. An hour from home the windshield began to see its first sprinkling of rain. I have lived in New England all my life and it still amazes me how quickly the weather can change. The old adage about New England weather is certainly true, if you don't like it, wait a minute. Arriving home before the big downpours was an added bonus. If you haven't made vacation plans yet this year, consider Vermont. You won't be disappointed.

Our New Arrival

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Fri, 05 Jun 2015 22:56:00 +0000

The Henderson Clan continues to grow with the addition of little Xavier whom we welcomed into the world in May. Over the long Memorial Weekend, Andy and I took the slow way to Maine to lay our eyes on our new grandson. A trip that will take 4 hours by highway took 6 hours by back roads. That was perfectly OK with us. We made stops along the way, saw things you wouldn't see from a highway, and overall enjoyed just being on the road again.

Memorial Day was bitter sweet this year with tears of joy and sadness. Our sadness was in thinking of Dad, a veteran of WWII whom we lost in March, and tears of joy for the new life and the hope and promise it brings for the future. Xavier's birth in May added some comfort to us as Mom and Dad were both May babies. Xavier's birth falls smack dab between the two of them.

New Mother, Dad and Baby had appointments one morning, and with them otherwise engaged, we took a side trip to Bar Harbor, where a Whispering Giant can be found. This is number 5 for me, and each one is like finding a hidden treasure.

Other unusual sights you won't see on the highway are trees like this, with the power lines running right through the middle. We did a double take on that! Click on the image to get a better view. Now that is either love of the tree, or cost savings efforts.

And wouldn't you know, although it was the end of May, there are still snowbanks to be found in this part of the country. It was a snowball to the back that had me turn around and notice. (Not nice mister.)

And what adventure isn't made better than a souvenir to enjoy at the end of the day. Since Maine is a big producer of blueberries, it was nice to pick up this bottle of blueberry wine made right there in Bar Harbor. Then it was back home again, to dream about the next little road trip we will take.

With Help From The Big Man Upstairs

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Wed, 06 May 2015 17:57:00 +0000

The first really glorious day of the season dawns Sunday May 3^rd. I roll Blaze out into the warm sunshine and give her a look-over. As is my habit, I work my way from top to bottom. Oil looks good. Now to check the tires. Gauge in hand I measure the pressure of each tire. They are a little low, so while Andy and I attend to adding air, I look them over sticking my fingers in the tread. The treads seem OK to me and I follow with my finger to the center of these Avons. Nothing looks worrisome to me. Off we go to meet up with Lee and head to the Mountains.

Our first top is Laconia where we find Whispering Giant #48; Keewakwa Abenaki Keenahbeh. This is my fourth Whispering Giant and it dates to 1984. All of these Giants are in need of attention. So far the most well preserved one I’ve seen is in Punta Gorda. The worst is Standing Brave in South Carolina. The elements take their toll along with insects and humans. All in all Keewakwa isn’t too bad. I’m able to get some nice photos of Blaze in front with the rally flag. The commemorative plaque is missing and it’s not clear if the harsh winter or if human beings played a role in its demise.

Since its noon, we follow Lee to the Meredith Docks to find a place to eat. None of the dock eateries appeal to us so we make our way along the boardwalk enjoying the buzz of activity in town. Folks are backing their boats into the lake and sports cars with the tops down are pulling into parking spots all over town. No one it seems wants to miss this perfect day.

Along our way are various sculptures. We enjoy them to the fullest. Lee does his traditional handstand. What trip with Lee is complete if there isn’t a show? I try to get a shot no one has gotten before, but he’s shooing me away. I guess you can’t laugh and hold a handstand very well.

We cross the street and find a place to eat in a refurbished old linen mill. The place looks fabulous with various shops and levels. Right through the middle are falls that long ago powered the mill. Three ponds and two lakes feed these falls. The canal is long gone and the feed pipe now runs under dwellings. Once a year, when the water is low, two divers one from one end, and one descending down from above, travel the pipe that now directs the flow of water to inspect and clear of any debris. People are fishing below and the size fish they reel in amazes me.

Lee is not heading home with us but staying at a Youth Hostel in Conway, farther north. Since Andy and I are curious about the hostel, we follow Lee there. It’s nearly 4 pm, the time at which someone arrives to let you in, so we wait. We are rewarded with a tour of the place, and a nice chat with our tour guide. We wave goodbye to Lee and head for home.

As we near the highway, Andy’ points his fender to a slower secondary road. I start pestering him about taking the highway as we are far from home and it’s already past 4:00 pm.” No no” he says, “this is better”. When I won’t stop pestering him he finally tells me he “saw something” on my bike and that the slower pace home will be better. A few more questions and I discover that on our way to Conway, he noticed a “spot” on my back tire. While I’m not happy with that news I’m glad for the information. I am now prepared to make choices of my own and ready for what might happen next.

I decide to get in front of Andy and he watches me as we continue in a slower but steady ride. I have not seen this “spot” and in my mind it’s a “spot”, so I’m relatively protected from the reality. However, as things go, we are required to make a stop before reaching home. I dismount and take a look at what I think is a “spot” only to discover it’s an ugly stripe that is running down the middle of the tire from fender to pavement! So much for my morning inspection. I am clearly not qualified enough to judge such things I guess. But back on the bike I go, and with the good grace of God I reach home unscathed. Three hours of riding with all senses on high alert take their toll, and I’m tuckered out. I am keenly aware of what could have happened. I have no advice on how to judge a tire or what to do if you find it wearing away in front of your eyes. All I can say is “don’t do what I did” and ride on such a tire, but it rings hollow I’m sure. The Avons are a curious tire to begin with and most of the tire looks great still. I’m grounded for the time being until a new tire is installed, but grateful for the hand of God guiding my way.

Landing Brave - March 13-14, 2015

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Sun, 26 Apr 2015 18:59:00 +0000

I wake in the morning knowing this is our last day in Florida, I will miss without question the sunshine and warm riding days we have enjoyed. I throw my leg over the saddle and follow Andy back to Kidani for one last look at the little lion cubs and to kiss their rosey cheeks farewell. We are off by noon waving goodbye from the van window to all the "cast members" at Kidani. With bikes in tow behind us I soon shake off the blues of saying goodbye by focusing on our next stop, Charleston South Caroline.

Reaching our destination is an all day ride. With the sun already set we decide to find Landing Brave, the next Whispering Giant on my list, before we settle in so we have a game plan in the morning. We follow the GPS diligently. It points us to the historic Charles Towne park entrance at which we are notified that it closed at sundown. We proceed anyway. No one stops us. The trees now but black silhouettes against an even darker sky sway in the breeze. Their moss covered branches looking like the strips that slap against your vehicle in a car wash. Left right, left right, left right. My skin begins to prickle. It's very eerie and the winding path seems endless.

We finally emerged into a spacious parking lot, but still the GPS directs us until the van can no longer follow. With GPS in hand and set to walking mode, we follow a service road to a grassy area surrounded by a split rail fence. Our eyes adjusting to the gloom we both see the Giant simultaneously, pointing in unison. We swing our legs over the fence, and gingerly and with great stealth slip over to Landing Brave looking over our shoulders for signs of life; mostly of the badge and gun toting kind. We are in the clear.

With our small and trusty LED flashlights we look Landing Brave up and down. We scan the perimeter in the beam of the LEDs looking for a way in for Blaze. We see a paved path at the far end. Andy suggests that maybe there is a way in along this path so we go for a look. We walk along this path for a few moments when I realize there are small signs posted in the grassy area to the left and right. I stop and point the light at one of the small signs. "African Burial Ground" it reads. I'm frozen to my spot for a moment. My skin is now so goosebumped I could sand a plank smooth. We both decide it doesn't feel right or respectful and make our way back to Landing Brave. Before I cross where I shouldn't I flash the light on another sign "Wild Animal Refuge". Now I'm really out of here.

Back over the split rail, we decide that if we get back early enough in the morning, we can park Blaze near the split rail at the end of the service road and get enough of a photo to suit the contest requirements. We call it a day and head for the motel.

In the morning we do arrive before the park officially opens. We pull up near the service road, and with daylight in our favor are able to see more clearly the landscape around us. Nothing is open yet, but we see a grounds keeper and approach him. I tell him about the contest and ask if there is a way in through the walking path. There is, but at this hour the gate is locked, and he doesn't believe we'd be permitted. I ask about the posted signs for the burial grounds. He tells us that at one point a plantation stood on this spot. Just before the old woman who owned it turned the property over to become a park, she hired some boy scouts to clean up the place. This was back in the 1960's. The boy scouts did a fantastic job, including pulling up at disposing of all the burial markers of the plantation slaves who were buried there. This hallowed ground now has unmarked graves, but is represented by the posted signage we had seen in the dark.

With that still weighing on my mind, he then points us to the wild animal habitat area and the surrounding fence. "I don't know how" he's saying, "but one morning I came here and a 12 foot alligator had made if over the fence and was wandering around the enclosure." My eyes are saucers at the thought of me stomping around in here last night.

After our unscheduled guided tour by the grounds keeper, we finally ask if pulling the bike up near the fence along the service road will be OK. It's OK with him, but if anyone else asks, he never talked to us. With that authority, we got Blaze off the trailer, took her photograph with Landing Brave and back on the trailer before the park officially opened at 9:00 am.

You can just barely see the statue behind Blaze. Look just above the saddle.

Commemoration Plaque

Landing Brave

With several more Whispering Giants along our route we depart Charleston. The weather has other ideas. The sky darkenes and torrential rain begins that would follow us back to New England. There would be no more Whispering Giant visits this trip. Snow and sleet begin pelting our windshield just as the "Bienvenue" to New Hampshire sign comes into sight. Bienvenue indeed!

Punta Gorda Florida– March 12, 2015

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Sun, 12 Apr 2015 21:46:00 +0000

We head out from Hollywood early and make our way to route 27. Route 27 heads diagonally across the interior of Florida, parts of which pass through the Everglades Preserve. If I had more time, I would LOVE to visit Everglades National Park. It would also add another stamp to my National Parks Passport book. But alas, there are only so many hours in the day.

Once on 27 Andy soon reaches down and flips the petcock to reserve. I know from habit that he will ride until there are fumes in the tank. I’m sure he’s not thinking of the words “Everglades preserve” as I am, so I set the GPS to “nearby gas stations.” All are pointing behind me. At the 5 mile mark I tell him that the stations are behind. He insists there must be one ahead and we continue. I know better than to argue. It’s a fight I never win. At the 10 mile mark I mention that they are all now 10 miles behind us and nothing ahead. Again at the 15 mile mark I mention “no stations ahead.” Thankfully he turns around and we head 15 miles back to our start. We roll into the station and he fills up; 4.5 gallons, which is his tank size. Don’t ask me to explain this need to wait until fumes. I’ve never understood it.

Yet there is something to be said for heading back from whence we came. This time we are ready for a few scenic spots we slipped by the first time. Here we met a tour heading off on an Air Boat. Having only seen these on television, I found it fun to watch live. I’d tell you the name of this great bunch but I lost their business card. Great reporter I’d make right?

Route 27 also takes us past Lake Okeechobee and we pull off to check things out. This area also boasts of great bass fishing. We have trouble seeing the “lake” for the tall grass, and I incorporate a pair of binoculars I remembered to pack. I’m anxious to move on though as I have another Whispering Giant waiting for me in Punta Gorda.

The ride along 27 is very pleasant, with little traffic and lots of bird life to see. The area is relatively flat, so you have long distance vistas as well. We break off of 27 and head West toward Fort Meyers. We will stop 10 miles short of North Fort Meyers in Punta Gorda. As we approach the GPS is again telling me we are close. We play the one way street game until we spot it on the corner of a busy intersection. Calostimucu, as this one is called is sitting in the yard of an historic home, so there is parking in the front and a sidewalk that leads in front of the Giant. We meet a retired man from New Hampshire, and he seems happy to be talking to “kinfolk”. We discuss riding up on the sidewalk, and with a flourishing wave of the hand, give us authority to do so. Not that anyone of us has authority, but I go ahead and ride up onto the sidewalk. No one pays us any mind, and a few who do, don’t say a word.

Calostimucu is the only Whispering Giant with two faces. When you stand by these sentinels you feel small and insignificant. At the same time you understand that what has happened to the Indian Nations is very big indeed. We spend some time with the Giant to honor the people he represents then take a tour of the historic home. This is not its original spot nor is it as old as some you find in New England, but the Victorian home has charm and it’s cool (as in temperature).

The afternoon is making its way to the supper hour, and I still have one more stop; North Fort Meyers. Here is where my former Director has moved in her retirement. While she spent her time in Detroit, and I in New Hampshire and then Massachusetts when we worked for the same company, still we developed a respect and appreciation for each other. When we pull up to her home, it’s like seeing an old friend who shares some history with you. We enjoy an hour or so and then we must be on the road again. It will be one more night out before we return to Kidani, load the bikes on the trailer and head for South Carolina where Landing Brave waits for his photograph.

Pat and D'Arcie

Fort Lauderdale and a Whispering Giant March 11, 2015

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Tue, 07 Apr 2015 14:03:00 +0000

On Wednesday, we kiss the little Lion Cubs goodbye and head to Fort Lauderdale. We'll be gone from Kidani Lodge two nights, but not to worry. The Cubs have a second set of Grandparents to kiss their cheeks while we are gone. We head south in search of Statue #44. I have the coordinates in the GPS and I'm excited. Not only am I officially starting the Whispering Giants Tour, but today is my birthday. Sun, sea, and the rush of the wind past my helmet is a perfect way to spend a day.

As the day wears on, the heat becomes more intense along with the traffic. This week is also Spring Break, so anytime we near a beach, the traffic comes to a crawl. I begin to drip beneath the helmet, jacket and gloves. Nearing Fort Lauderdale Beach I can see by the GPS that we were within a stone's throw. Yet, the streets are one-way, which causes us to go with the snail pace flow down one side before we can venture back up the next.

Finally after what seems an eternity, and with the seat of my pants now damp from sitting in the saddle under the blazing sun, we make the turn onto A1A. I'm sure this road has another name, but I have no idea what it is. But if you go, it's three lanes of one way traffic heading north that runs right along the beach. Everyone is in a hurry, and here I am looking for my quarry. I hold up the impatient travelers while I scan the roadsides. About 100 feet from an intersection, I spot the Giant standing sentinel in a park and looking across to the ocean. We make a left a the next turn and pull into a parking spot.

I'm in a quandary as I look at where the statue is and busy A1A; a stretch of road without breakdown lanes, So in essence no place to pull over to get a photo of this statue with my motorcycle in front. In the park on the grass are two mounted police and one cruiser. The cruiser is parked in the shade of tree right behind the statue with an officer inside. Any illegal moves I consider vanish. The mounted police move on. But Andy is not deterred and heads for the cruiser. I follow and we chat with Office Dan. After some chit chat about where we are from, and what we are trying to do, Office Dan tells us he originally hales from Vermont. (Which I think helped coming from New England and all.) He then points to a small parking lot on the other side of the park and tells me to come in through there, ride across the grassy park, pull onto the side walk, do what I need to do, and then pull right back to where we are now located on the side street. So I do!

Statue #44

Me in front of #44

With the bike and rally flag set, Andy watches the traffic while I back into the street to get the bike and statue in the frame. He hollers when I'm in danger of becoming a victim of oncoming traffic. I take several photos and leap back to safety. From there, we pay homage to the parking meters and spend some time on the beach. Andy of course in more interested in the beauties of Spring Break. However, I have my own pleasant conversation with a very handsome young life guard. He can rescue me any day.

Off we go again, touring around Miami, and making a final stop for the night in Hollywood. We find a great Italian restaurant. They gives us a birthday discount, and I end my day with a birthday cannoli. I sleep soundly that night after a long day of riding with dreams of more adventures to come.

My birthday cannoli

Canaveral Groves and Cocoa Beach March 10, 2015

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Thu, 02 Apr 2015 13:18:00 +0000

In a previous post I mentioned that it took us a while to get going in the morning. What took us so long to get to Daytona on Monday was our search for a self service car wash to clean the grime off the motorcycles that accumulated on the trip down from New Hampshire. Most were drive through, and that wouldn't do of course. It took a while but we finally found one. The bikes were now spic and span.

Today is Tuesday and Andy wants to take a ride to Cocoa where he and his brothers own a piece of land left to them by their aunt. No one has really seen it. A few have "been to the area" but that is not the same as "walking the property." So off we go to find 4 acres in a subdivision called Canaveral Groves. I set the GPS to the road listed on the tax bill. No number of course but we have a diagram. The property had been acquired back in the 60's and since then an expressway has been built that cuts through a corner so landmarks we believed will be easy to identify.

Canaveral Groves isn't any nearer to Disney than Daytona is, but hey, we are on motorcycles and it was 5 degrees when we left NH, so we're as happy as two peas in a pod in this fabulous weather. Eventually, we find our way and discover (why am I surprised) the road is not paved. Andy takes me down plenty of dirt roads back home so I'm thinking I'll be OK. Oh wait, this isn't like the gravel roads back home. This stuff is like trying to ride on shifting beach sand. I'm not too happy as the dust is really kicking up and the way isn't easy going on a tour bike. Yet Andy is ever the optimist when it comes to riding back roads. He always believes things will improve so we never turn around.

The homes that we do see don't look like a neighborhood I'd want to live in. Piles or crap in the yards, no landscaping whatsoever, a few chained dogs barking and straining at the end of their chains. The way becomes more difficult, and the road dips and rises like the waves on the ocean. It becomes more damp the closer we get.

We encounter our first big puddle, which Andy rides through and I follow. "Damn" I'm thinking and also sure I'm saying into the microphone of the headset, "I just washed this bike!" I stop at the next rise, but Andy continues through the next. It's deeper, and I'm glad I didn't go. "Why are you stopping?" he asks. Duh, I like my bike clean, but I don't say that, I just watch. At the third puddle, Andy boldly presses on. At this "puddle" he begins to vanish beneath the surface and I watch mouth agape. It plays like a slow motion film in my mind. First his feet, then his shins, then the water rises to his saddle. The bike lists to the left and my stomach does a flip flop. Andy opens the throttle wide at this point and his rear tire finds purchase. I hear the pipes gurgling underwater! Miraculously the bike leaps forward and out he pops on the other side.

The deceiving "puddles".

I sit there for what seems an eternity, as does he. Finally I say into the mic, "and now what are you going to do?" He is covered with muck clear up his backside. Saddle bags, fenders and tire rims all full of grime. We both dismount and do a bit of bushwhacking at the edges of this puddle and find him a way out.

Andy finds a way out.

Our day then proceeded on as if nothing has happened. We ride to the Kennedy Space Center as if we were going to take a tour, only to realize that the clean pants in his saddle bag of course are not. So we instead make our way to Cocoa Beach, where he wades into the surf and scrubs the muck of his pants. We enjoy some ice cream and hightail it back to the Kingdom where the little lion cubs are thrilled to see us.

(PS: We never did see the property. At only 3 tenths of mile away, the next puddles were more like ponds with no way around.)

Take a Ride with Pat over the Bridge to Dayton Beach

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Wed, 01 Apr 2015 18:06:00 +0000

Enjoy the ride!

Animal Kingdom and Daytona Beach

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Fri, 27 Mar 2015 19:37:00 +0000

We arrived to our destination late on Sunday March 8th. Conner greeted us with joy and couldn't wait to show us the animals from the balcony of their condo at Disney's Animal Kingdom Lodge. We spent some time watching this giraffe and the other animals roaming the park.

Giraffe can be seen between Conner's chin and hands.

Monday was the day I'd been waiting 8 years for, Dayton Beach in all its glory during the annual Dayton Beach Bike Week. After a slow morning start and a meandering back roads trip from Disney Lodges to Daytona, we arrived eventually around midday. Here I finally crossed the famous bridge I'd watched so often in the videos of others as they made their way to the beach.

The day was hot and we took to the sea breeze of Joe's Crab Shack for some late afternoon lunch at the end of the pier. Here we enjoyed the views, people watched, and of course devoured our meal at Joe's. With our hunger satisfied we walked off our lunch with a stroll and some shopping up and down Main St. As typical you can see all types of motorcycles from traditional to outlandish. The Jesus people are out along with the panhandlers working the crowd. What I found impressive was the orderliness of the crowd. And while we saw a police presence it was not "in your face." Everyone was respectful of everyone else.

Late in the afternoon we made our way to the Daytona International Speedway. The speedway is about 5 miles from the beach and is where all the big vendor tents are set up. Andy needed a new front tire, so we found the Dunlop tent. Not only did they have a tire, they could replace it on the spot. This is what I love about motorcycle events like this. You don't have to get your bike to a shop, find a ride home, or make any appointment. You're in and out. Well almost.

With Andy's bike up on the lift, a guy on a custom Fat Boy rolled in with a plight. One of the bolts "here we go with bolts again" had wiggled it's way out of the rear pulley drive. (At least that's what I think it's called.) This is where the belt loops over and drives the back wheel. He's lucky to have heard a strange noise or things could have gone very badly for him. The bolt had not sheered off, but was badly bent. The other bolts needed attention as well, so the mechanics were diverted from the tire as everyone was focused on this guy's custom Harley. This bike was a beauty even I had to admit with its fifteen grand worth of custom work. Even the state license plate matched. How cool is that!

We arrived back at the Animal Kingdom where the little "lion cubs" were already snoozing. However we enjoyed a pleasant evening with Stephanie and Phil recounting each our day's adventures.

Come back and check for video traversing the bridge to the beach. I'm catching up at the moment and haven't uploaded this yet.

Whirlwind Tour and Last Goodbyes

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Wed, 25 Mar 2015 20:51:00 +0000

I'm posting a short note to let my readers know that I do intend to cover my trip to Daytona. However, once I arrived home my siblings and I were faced with saying our last goodbyes to Dad. While we are sad for ourselves at his passing, he left this world on his own terms. In addition his final moments were so touching that we are forever grateful for all the kindness shown to him in his last hours. He is home and at peace.

I am taking a little time, but I will surely be back with a written account of our adventures, along with some great photos.

Pat

Daytona Bound March 7th 2015

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Mon, 09 Mar 2015 03:26:00 +0000

It's been a long wait. Several years ago, our daughter and son-in-law joined us in Lake George for Americade. While we had a good time, I'm not sure it was the roudy time the son-in-law expected. You see he'd been to Daytona with his buddies. One night he says to me that come March he'll take us to Daytona. Well, I think he had more fun than he was letting on, because the followiing March our granddaughter was born. You do the math. Our granddaughter will turn 8 years old this week. And while I love my granddaughter, that seed her father planted in my brain 8 years and 9 months ago has been germinating ever since.

This morning we left cold and snow packed New Hampshire and pointed the fenders south. Yea sure, they are on a trailer, but hey, it was 5 degrees when we left. It was no small chore digging that trailer out all winter as storm after storm blasted the North East. Then getting the bikes warm enough to start was another matter. Out came the propane space heater and placed near the motorcycles to warm them. Once warmed, we then needed to slip and slide them along the frozen snow packed drive and up the ramp onto the trailer. I owe Andy a great bit of gratitude for taking on this task. The long winter of constant shoveling was in itself a great test of endurance.

As we began our journey in the wee hours of the morning, a particual sound coming from the right front of the van was driving me crazy. It sounded like a cricket to me. Chirp chirp chirp. Andy shrugged it off as just the luggage in the back rubbing against each other. But I was sure it was coming from the front.

After a few hours as we are making our way through New York. The roads here are SO bad. The potholes are so prolific they look like a field of goffer holes along the roadway. On one particular bad stretch as Andy realized we would hit hard, he actually pulled up on the steering wheel as if he were on a bike and manuvering. While funny, and we were lucky not to blow a tire. The line of cars along the highway with their drivers jacking up their own cars and putting on the spare was not.

Finally we cross into New Jersey and travers the entire length of the state without trouble, almost. Just before we leave this state the front right tire sound like it's about to fall off. Then we hear sounds like we either ran over something or something fell off. We hobble off the highway and find a truck repair shop. While waiting our turn, Andy notices a bolt on the trailer. Just sitting there. He pockets it not knowing where it came from. To our great surprise this bolt turns out to be the exact bolt that has wiggled its way out of the break housing that bolts to the frame! I suspect that the cricket I heard was this coming loose and all the potholes did the rest. Yet what are the chances that bold would bounce back up off the road and onto the bike trailer? Phenomenal in my opinion. So I feel blessed indeed to still be on my way and tomorrow we shall be in the Sunshine State!

Whispering Giants

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Sat, 31 Jan 2015 19:50:00 +0000

Each year before the riding season starts in earnest, I spend my time cooped up indoors by imagining where I will be riding when the weather is finally more favorable. I was thinking of putting a bigger dent in those 400 waterfalls and cascades in New England, when an interesting email arrived in my inbox telling me about the Whispering Giants Grand Tour.

I have only done one other Grand Tour and that was to chase BBQ joints. I had hoped my good buddy Dave was going to join us on these adventures, (since he loves BBQ) but alas, it didn’t happen that way. I never “finished” the tour by Grand Tour standards, but I put a big enough dent, and gained extra points to get a great certificate that reads “Almost Finished”. I chuckle still but you have to believe I treasure that certificate.

This year, as I read about the Grand Tour I became more intrigued, mostly because I had been staring at a Whispering Giant for years and never knew its full significance. What is a Whispering Giant? Here is the quote from the email message:

“A Whispering Giant is a giant wood carving honoring Native Americans created by the artist Peter Wolf Toth. These giant wood carvings are in all 50 states and parts of Canada. Each carving honors the Native American’s who reside or once resided in the area.”

For years our family has stopped at the exit 5 rest area in Plymouth MA and walked by the towering Giant never knowing its full significance. Understanding from the email that there is one in every state, I looked up NH. Sure enough, one stands tall in Laconia. Now how many times have I been to Laconia? More than I can count. And yet I have never seen this magnificent sculpture.

Enisketomp Plymouth MA #45

Keewakwa Abenaki Keenahbeh, Laconia #48

I decided to do some Google research on the artist Peter Wolf Toth. What fascinated me most was learning how he comes to carve each one. Typically, he asks for the giant log to be donated by the town/city or tribe where the Giant will stand, along with room and board. Then he meets with the tribe to gain a full understanding of this tribe and to recreate a likeness that symbolizes them. He creates his masterpieces with mallet and chisel and has only used a chain saw in a few instances. When done, the Giants are donated back to the city/town or tribe where it now stands. Peter Wolf Toth’s Whispering Giants have been valued at a quarter of a million dollars each.

In reviewing the locations of all the Giants, I figure I can visit 10 of them easily. Two are in Florida which God willing I will visit in March. I can get additional points if I visit Peter Wolf Toth’s studio in Edgewater Florida too. What I have to do next is to discover if any of the Giants are easily accessible along the route from my home in the North East to Daytona Florida. The rules don’t exclude a bike on a trailer, only that the bike be in the photo. (Hey, I’m a middle child after all!)

If there is anything to be learned here is that there are treasures right under our noses and all we have to do is pay attention. Do a little research of your own to find out where the Whispering Giants are located in your area. I’d love for you to take a photo and share with me. Or visit my Motorcycle Touring Community Group on Facebook and post it up there or tell us what you will be chasing this year.

Time to Refocus

noreply@blogger.com (p.a.henderson55@gmail.com) — Sun, 18 Jan 2015 20:02:00 +0000

Life has a way of diverting our attention. One of my Dad’s favorite quotes, which he had me print for him many years ago when life tossed him a curveball reads “Life Happens When You’re Making Plans.” How true! Sometimes the curveballs aren’t too bad. Then again sometimes they can feel like a screwball, or maybe even a knuckleball. My life has been more like a detour (thank goodness) to change the analogy from baseball back to riding. The holiday season along with other pressing issues can divert out attention. Yet, as January starts to slip past me I’m pulling myself up by the proverbial boot straps and taking a look ahead. And despite Dad’s printed quote I’m making plans.

This year is especially important to me. I feel I need to do all I’ve ever wanted to do before time runs out. You see, this year I face a milestone birthday. Sometimes I think it doesn’t bother me. I announce it to people in a way woman don’t typically divulge. Other times I look in the mirror and wonder what happened to all that lay behind me. I recall what a girlfriend said to me 10 years ago at another milestone birthday. The day AFTER my birthday, she put her hand over her open mouth in mock shock, eyes wide open. Then she declared that I didn’t look any different than yesterday. There’s a pretty good lesson there. I won’t magically transform on my birthday.

While I don’t think one day to the next makes much difference, the accumulation of days might. So this year, if life doesn’t happen while I’m making plans, I’ll be heading to Daytona Bike Week. It’s been on my list. Things are serendipitously happening. There’s chatter in the background. Family will be in Orlando, and room is being offered so we have a place to stay. Keeping the driveway clear of snow and ice, the trailer ready, the van in running order are all part of the plan. God willing, I will finally add Daytona Bike Week to my list of Motorcycle Rallies I’ve had the pleasure of attending. Will I be different when I get back? For sure! While there, the milestone will happen. Yet it’s not the milestone birthday that will change me. What change each one of us are the experiences of our lives. Our experiences are unique to each of us and what matters is the depth of our inquiry into what we make of what happens to us. So instead of feeling old or older, I will think of myself as a beautiful quilt. On that quilt are scraps of fabric that represents all the accumulated experiences of my life. A beautiful and colorful quilt it is too.