St Charles, Missouri to Hannibal, Missouri

This weekend's ride was to Hannibal Missouri, boyhood home of Mark Twain. The forecast was calling for thunderstorms through the day so I grabbed my rain suit and decided to leave the camera at home. As with last week's ride in to Illinois I had to start out on I-70, this time headed west. I had about a 10 mile section from home to State Route 61. SR 61 is a four lane road that runs pretty straight through some painfully flat farmland. There's not a lot of variety in scenery but since I had a specific destination in mind I didn't mind too much. The trip up was an uninspiring 93 miles. The road was decently paved and traffic was light at 10:00 on a Saturday morning. The section of SR 61 north of I-70 was no where near as interesting as the section south I rode last week.

Once to Hannibal I stopped for a quick lunch at Taco Bell along the prerequisite fast food, strip mall road off of the interstate. After lunch I felt ready to cruise around downtown to check out the sites. I have to confess that I've never read Tom Sawyer, Huck Finn or any of Mark Twain's other works. As a result I didn't spend much time site seeing. I decided to come back some other time with my wife to take a ride on a stern wheeler. The effects of the past couple of months of flooding were still evident with buildings sandbagged and debris and brown grass in the low areas. This would actually be a theme for the rest of the trip back. After consulting my map, I saw that State Route 79 actually runs closer along the Mississippi River so that's the road I decided to take. Shortly out of Hannibal 79 starts up into the hills. The road from Hannibal to Clarksville is as fun a motorcycle road as I've ever been on. There are constant twists, gentle, high speed arcs and several changes in altitude. One long gentle high speed corner was especially fun and I let out an involuntary whoop after going around it at close to 80 mph. There was little traffic and ample passing opportunities for the times when I got stuck behind the odd slow moving truck. I also saw a lot of evidence of the flooding and unfortunately I saw several homes with the dirty brown mark on the side some as high as half the height of the door. It really put a damper on my spirits and made me appreciate how lucky I am.

Most of the rest of the ride was straight and uneventful. I slowly started easing back into St Peters and before I knew it there was I-70 again. The total for the trip was 205 miles. I've been doing long rides to make up for the lack of mileage this summer and last.

Please give to the Salvation Army. I know the Red Cross is helping also but from what I saw the Salvation Army was everywhere and looked to be doing the most in the areas without the media attention.

St Charles, Missouri to Chester, Illinois

I'm ashamed to say that I've just taken my first ride of the year. I've been so busy with a new job and moving to another state that I haven't really got to ride. I've always thought that the excuse of no money and no time rang a little false but I'm finding out that adult responsibilities do intrude into my Peter Pan riding land. As I headed out from our new house in St Charles, Missouri on I-270 around the southern end of the St Louis area all the emotion of a motorcycle ride came back over me. I don't know what chemical response it triggers but it goes right to the pleasure center of my brain.

I left this morning at 9:30 and jumped on I-70 to I-270. I usually try to avoid the interstates when I can but I had a specific goal in mind and the freeway offered the most direct route. After about 30 miles I took exit 6 at Columbia, Illinois and headed south on IL 3. I picked a road that I was hoping ran close with the Mississippi River. IL 3 doesn't, which actually worked out to my advantage. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that the Mississippi has been flooding the mid-west for the better part of the summer. As I got to Evansville I saw evidence of the Kaskaskia River over flowing it's banks. I was starting to worry that I may have to turn around. I decided to press on. It was a 76 mile trip from Columbia to Chester, Illinois. The road is what I see every time I ride in the areas along the Mississippi. There were miles of farmland with corn, no hills and straight roads to the horizon. While it wasn't the most scenic or challenging road I've ever been on it was a good one to blow the riding cobwebs out on. I got to Chester to be greeted by a sign proclaiming it the birthplace of Popeye, the sailor. The downtown was full of Popeye shops and signs. I wanted to save exploring Popeye's history for another day. After a burrito at the Hardee's/Red Burrito, I turned onto IL 150 heading west and crossed the River Bridge into Missouri. Illinois 150 turns into Missouri 51 and I followed that to route H. I started up State Route 61 which is very much like my old stomping grounds SR 40, the old national highway. 61 runs closer to the Mississippi and as a result I saw a lot more flooding. In St Mary a large portion of 61 was under water. As far as I could tell no homes were affected which I was thankful for. A sign proclaimed the route opened to local traffic only. Since there wasn't an alternative but to go back I made my way through town and pressed on.

Route 61 was an improvement on IL 3 but just barely. There were more hills and a few turns but for the most part I didn't get to use the sidewall of my tires except the few times I got on or off the freeway. There is some pretty scenery and there are few places on my "next time" list. And unlike the Illinois side the secondary roads are paved. I'm not sure about the Illinois side of this trip but I will be revisiting the south eastern portion of Missouri again. And let's be honest, I'll visit Chester again, at least to visit the Popeye museum.

The last portion of the ride consisted of me getting on and off of I-55. Like 40 and I-70, SR 61 and I-55 parallel and overlap one another. I was torn by my desire to get off the bike (I haven't built up the rider's butt yet) and see the back roads. I finally hit I-270 again and made a beeline for home, weaving through some thick traffic. I was disappointed to note that I was 5 miles short of an even 200 mile trip. Maybe next time.

Favorite Photos

I'm working in Virginia these days. I haven't been able to get one of the bikes here with me yet but spring is starting to force it's way up through the snow, muck and mud. It won't be long before I can't take it anymore. Until that happens I wanted to post a few of my favorite photos. I haven't posted here in quite a while so this is just a way to get my feet wet again.

Oceanside California, 2003

This first one was taken shortly after got the FZ1. I was doing a job at Camp Pendleton over a summer. I couldn't bring the Vmax with me and I couldn't take a whole summer in beautiful southern California without a bike. I'm not wealthy enough to just buy a bike whenever I want but the Vmax had been paid off for awhile and I was still single back then. The other guy in the photo (in front of the orange Vmax) is Rolando. He's a friend from way back and how we ran into each other after eight years is a story for another post. This day Rolando took my on a ride through the Mulholland Hills to the legendary Rock Store and down through Malibu. It was quite a day and a fun ride.

Wolf's Creek Pass Colorado, 2004

This photo is taken at Wolf's Creek Pass in Colorado. It was a ride a couple of friends and I took from Avon Colorado to Durango. We had another friend following us in his truck. He was so inspired by the fun we were having he ended up taking the Motorcycle Safety Foundation course (after trying out a BMW and dumping it). A few months later he had a Harley. The ride to and back from Durango was a good time.

These two were taken on a trip to Yellowstone and the Tetons. We got lucky in that Lisa, my wife, had a job in the two parks. We had free housing and access to the two parks for two weeks. The picture of the bike in front of the Grand Teton was taken right outside the ranger house we were staying in. Score! The second picture was taken at Hell's Half Acre. That part of the ride was two hundred miles of sheer torture. The route went straight through the flatest, most boring part of one boring state. I included this photo because some of Starship Troopers was filmed there (and it was an interesting chunk of Americana.

Patterson California, 2005

This photo was taken while I was working at Crow's Landing in California. This was on California Route 130. It went through the mountains from Patterson California to San Jose passing the Lick Observatory on the way. This was one of the most amazing roads I've ever been on and most times I went there was almost no one to share the road with. I hated to see the job end simply because of this road.

Rosedale Mississippi 2006

This final one was from a trip I took to Clarksdale and Rosedale Mississippi a few years ago. It's one of those rides that defines in perfect clarity why I ride. You've probably seen the bumper stickers that say something to the effect that "It's a fill-in-the-blank thing. If I had to explain you wouldn't understand." I would amend that to say "It's a motorcycle thing, I can't explain it and am too busy riding to try".

These are more than photos, they are split seconds of perfection caught for my lifelong enjoyment. If you like these you can check out some more on Flickr.

Zanesville, Ohio to Stuebenville, Ohio

Here we are deep into the downhill slide out of summer and I've just completed my first "real" ride of the season. I've been in Puerto Rico working for most of the year and was unable (for reasons that should be obvious) to get much riding in. I've been home for a few weeks now and finally got to take a very satisfying road trip. I took my silver 97 Vmax. I bought it new and love to ride it on short jaunts and for profiling around town. It's a great bike that I've loved since I bought it new while working in New Mexico. It's not the most technologically advanced bike in the world but has a lot of character and aside from a rock hard seat has an extremely comfortable riding position (and it's a wicked fast accelerator). After riding around southeastern Ohio for most of my life, I figured I wouldn't be able to find a new interesting place to go. Fortunately my wife and I had just taken a drive a few days before that got me thinking about possibilities. With a quick check of my map of Ohio, I chose a route I hadn't traveled since before I was able to drive. It was my intention to ride to Steubenville, located on the Ohio River via Route 22. I hopped on State Route 40, the historic National Road to begin the journey.
22 and 40 run together through New Concord, John Glenn's birth place and part of the way into Cambridge. Route 22 is your typical southeastern Ohio road, which is to say it's well maintained, well engineered and well, scenic. I've mentioned it before but it bears repeating, no place is greener than Ohio in the summer. The roads are lined with Hemlock, Beech, Buckeye, Maple and Black Walnut trees among others. The woods of Ohio are as thick and lush as any on earth. My route cut through the bottom quarter of Salt Fork State Park. Ohio's largest state park. If you're very careful and quiet maybe you'll spot Bigfoot rummaging through the garbage cans.

After leaving the scenic lake area the road cuts through rolling hills and farm land as it skirts along the bottom of Amish country. Thankfully I didn't have to contend with any buggies, although there was a surprisingly high volume of semi-tractor trailer traffic for a windy two lane country road. I imagine it's due to 22 being a major artery for the smaller communities in this part of the state. The road is hilly with a lot of twisting sections, especially between the Peidmont Dam area and Cadiz. The ride is a breezy fast paced one but if you go anytime in the near future watch out for the severe grooves in the road around Cadiz. There is major road construction going on.
As I came down out of the hills (big hills, not quite mountains) I could sense the Ohio River in front of me. Much in the same way the Rockies have defined my wife, the Muskingum and Ohio Rivers have defined me. You can't really have grown up in this part of Ohio without feeling the influence of the currents. I've always been fascinated by rivers and will always take an opportunity to stop and stand by the shores of one. This was no exception. I parked the bike at the Ft Steuben historic site and walked out onto an old rusted steel framed bridge. It seemed pretty rickety and it had an open grating for the road. I fought back a rush of vertigo long enough to walk out to the middle and watch the water flow past beneath me.

Steubenville is a quaint town with a long history tied to the industrial age and everywhere you look are signs of it's former glory. Steel mills and factories on both sides of the river are still active but you come away with a sense that they are not what they used to be. I remember visiting Steubenville with Dad and Mom when I was little and after seeing it again 30 years later I told myself I wouldn't wait another thirty to come back and explore more. The way the city is built on the hills along the river has always fascinated me and on my first trip to San Francisco this is the town that came to my mind, even after all those years.

From Stuebenville I crossed the Ohio and headed down West Virginia State Route 2. It wound down along the Ohio through depressing and depressed industrial towns, alot like the Ohio side.

Once down into Wheeling it was back on I-70 for a high speed race for home. The weather had gone from skies threatening rain to sunny, dehydrating temps in a few hours. I hadn't noticed so gradual the change had been but I was worn out, I wanted to get home to dinner and the missus.

As always, my ride through Ohio had been a grand one. My home state never fails to satisfy and amaze.

Barber Motorsports Museum

It's been way too long since my last post. Unfortunately with the new marriage, work and winter setting in, I haven't had a lot of opportunity to ride. I've been working in Alabama since late October. As luck would have it I'm in Oxford which is just 50 or so miles from Barber Motorsports Museum and Track Complex so I took a drive that way today to satisfy my motorcycle cravings. I'm glad I did. Chances are if you ride a motorcycle you've heard of Barber Motorsport Museum. It's a beautiful facility with a world class track behind it. I've been to the AMA Motorcycle Hall of Fame and it doesn't compare. AMA's building is nice and modern but the Barber building is gorgeous. Based around a central elevator you ride up to the fifth floor and begin an hours long journey down a gently sloping ramp that spirals back down to the ground level. The floors are divided into different eras and themes but there's a little bit of everything on each floor. The back wall is glass and looks out over the track. It was about 58 degrees today so there were only a few hardy riders on sport bikes doing laps. In the parking lot were about twenty young guys with the same number of little Honda Civic tuners waiting to take to the track. The place seems like the spot for motorsports fun.

I walked in, paid my ten dollars and stepped in to Nirvana with a big dopey grin plastered to my face. Right inside the door was a Triumph Daytona 600 race bike and a Yamaha R6 from Michael Jordan's race team. We're off to a good start. Now the only problem is which way do I go? If I had been using my head I would have went straight to the elevator, gone to the top floor and walked down the spiraling ramp to each floor, it's a very neat design. Well in my state of excitement I just took a right and ended up in the Lotus race car section. Pretty and all but not what I was craving. Although there was a beautiful John Player Special. I remember having one in toy form as a child. It really was exciting to be that close to these pieces of history. You could see the worn leather seat in the cramped cockpit and imagine what it must have been like barreling down a straight close to 200mph.

I headed back toward the motorcycle section and was greeted by a Ducati 999R, nice shiny and red, sitting next to a Ducati race bike. Another visitor noticed me looking through the pictures I had taken and asked if I was picking the one I wanted. I laughed and replied that was easy, I wanted all of them.


The museum has an incredible mix of old and new, cruiser and sport bike and odd rarities. George Barber really should be commended. My personal favorites are sport bikes. I love the amazing technology that goes into them. For some reason however, old bikes are more fascinating to me. I've always loved history and I love the way motorcycles fit into history. It's the old yearning for a more simple life I guess.

I regret not grabbing a pen and pad to take notes, but I am proud of how my motorcycle knowledge has grown over the years. I recognized several bikes, especially the Britten V-1000. I even remembered the name.

I know I've been gushing and possibly getting carried away with the praise of this place but I haven't enjoyed myself quite this much for sometime. I must have spent three hours just looking. Truth is even though I got tired I found myself wishing I could rest for the evening and come back the next day. And I really wanted to watch the guys run the track and even watch the little Honda Civics do a few laps.

Bottom line is, if you like motorcycles and to a lesser degree auto racing, you'll love the museum.