 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| |
 |
| Map of Travels |
| 2005 - Journal 9 |
| What next? This past month has been filled with wonderful experiences. My journey from Murray, Kentucky (the first time) to northeastern Ohio to see old friends, visit new places and have the delicious opportunity of meeting new folks has a positive influence on my mental and spiritual views that so positively impacts my well-being. My week and a half in Ohio was interrupted with a 530 mile ride to Murray, Kentucky for the Hannigan’s Homecoming party, celebrating 30 years of building quality fairings, sidecars, trikes and trailers. Dozens of sidecars and trikes filled the newly paved parking lot in front of their new showroom. It was exciting to meet like-minded, committed folks and take pleasure in seeing the different rigs. Shortly after I parked Sunshine and removed my helmet, a tall bearded man approached and asked if I was Stu Davis, stuck out a hand and introduced himself as Glenn Goodelle from Jupiter, Florida. Seems he’s been trying to find me for some time. Glenn’s home is no more than 10 miles south of my digs in Hobe Sound. He explained that Dave Hannigan told him he had a neighbor running around South Florida (during the winter, at least), astride a yellow sidecar combination, so he began to pay attention to any flash of yellow moving in traffic as he rode through Martin County. Oddly, some of his former work mates at Pratt and Whitney (all unknown to me) said they’d spotted Sunshine boogying down the highway several times. Glenn rides a twin of Sunshine, color and all, although his rig is new this year. David Hannigan made body changes to the Astro GT, rounding the nose and front spoiler and lifting the bottom rear of the car body to provide more ground clearance. Two welcome changes. Glenn and I had several meals together and agreed to meet again during the winter months in Florida. Seems the universe brought us together and what better place than at a sidecar/trike rally. As I walked through the crowd I was surprised by the number of two wheel bikes that had been morphed into trikes. It’s evident that trikes strike a cord with older riders and passengers. The trike’s balance and easy maneuverability, scores high. Sidecars rigs on the other hand, powered by the bike’s single drive wheel located off the rig’s center line, has the tendency to go right when accelerating and to the left when braking. The experienced rider takes this idiosyncrasy in stride. The width of sidecar rig, like Sunshine, is enough to keep a rider awake and alert when in traffic. Parking can be a bit of trial when the third wheel climbs a curb. The real advantage of pulling a chair (sidecar), aside from the aesthetics, is the amount of storage space, not only in the interior of the car itself, but in a trunk that can offer up to 12 cubic feet (in some models). For trikers and even some sidecarists, pulling a trailer for touring has become de rigueur. Trikes have limited storage so pulling a trailer makes sense. Some riders all but smother their rigs with artwork. Bruce and Mary Griffing (71 and 61) of Cape Coral, Florida ride a 2003 Gold Wing 1800 with a Hannigan trailer. Since January of ’03 the Griffings have ridden more than 48,000 miles. Their 1990 Gold Wing 1500, clocked more than 187,000 miles by the time they traded up (I feel like a piker, alongside these long distance travelers with a mere 70,000 miles). I’ve included a photo of their motorbike art, painted by artist Chris Cruz of Deland, Florida. I asked if they had a favorite place, or places they’d like to return to, having traveled so many miles touring the states. Both thought about it and agreed that the northern areas of New Mexico and Arizona are strong choices. I had the opportunity to ride the Hannigan’s “Bandito,” a Suzuki 1200cc “Naked” bike (no bodywork) mated to a sport sidecar. The big feature of this performance sidecar rig is the custom crafted center hub steering assembly. There are no front forks (see picture on photo page) the front wheel pivots on a shaft vertically bisecting the diameter of the wheel rim. The wheel hub turns with a steering link connected to the handlebar steering assembly. It’s a massive piece engineering and handsome as well. The bike tracked beautifully; its ability to stay on a line while zipping down some of Kentucky’s country roads was precise. A twitch of the handlebars and the bike responded. Another feature is the use of a car tire, providing a larger footprint. There is a side benefit; the cost of an auto tire is almost half the cost of a motorbike tire. The seating position on the Bandito was a bit to forward for my geezer back but power and handling were awesome. Our day was splendid. Clear skies and sunny, hovering in the low 70’s. Riding at a comfortable 40 mph I began to move beyond the conscious manipulation of a strange bike and began to slip into the Zone, that tiny place that allows the body to function automatically, while allowing the mind to absorb and embrace swirling events as they pass before us. It seemed that every hundred meters, as I rode the narrow blacktop through a gentle neighborhood of tilled fields and sturdy homes sitting quietly amongst the trees, I was able to recall forgotten scenes of my early years. Like a movie played backwards, single frames flowed together to reveal other summer fields where the act of viewing was absorbed and translated into wonderful emotional moments, that strung together, became the warp and woof of my life. Hidden beneath the accumulation of the 27,598 days, that define my earthly existence, are the sweet moments revealing themselves from time to time, soothing and caressing the rough edges of my being. Saturday evening’s dinner party was held under white tents. Tables set for more than 180 folks had to make room for almost two hundred and fifty. After an exceptional buffet dinner, serenaded with live and recorded music, tickets were drawn and door prizes passed out. Plaques were presented by David to the attendees for longest ride to the party, oldest rider and youngest passenger, and number of total miles ridden on a Hannigan product. David presented an award he called the “Spirit Award” to the rider he felt personified the spirit of motorcycling across our country as an ambassador-at-large for three wheel touring on a Hannigan product. To my great surprise I was called to accept the award. It’s always nice to be singled out among ones peers and I thank David, Ruth Ann, Herb and Reno Anderson for their support and friendship. I certainly couldn’t have done it without their sidecar and encouragement. An hour after my arrival on Friday, twenty of my books arrived from the publisher. Ruth Ann set me up in a corner of the showroom to display my paperback journal. By the end of dinner Saturday evening, with the help of several announcements, I was able to sell eighteen, and giving two to my hosts. I’m not entirely comfortable wearing a booksellers hat but I’m sure time will ease the pain. I left Murray, Sunday morning, after breakfast with Glenn. He was off to the Honda Hoot, a gathering of thousands of motorcyclists in Knoxville, Tennessee, arriving from all over the country whereas I was off once again for Mentor, Ohio to finish my visit with Halle and Anne. I pointed Sunshine north on 641 to I-24 and then picked up Western Kentucky Parkway. I somehow got turned around and ended up racing back and forth until I found the proper entrance and preceded northwest. I’d like to say that never happens but truth be told I must be borderline dyslexic. That or junior geezerhood is rushing me pell mell to an unwanted conclusion. Two hours later I circled Elizabethtown connecting with I-65 North to Louisville where I switched to I-71 North. The air was warm and dry with intermittent sun. Quite definitely, motorbike weather. Cincinnati hove into view less than two hours later as I continued northeast into Ohio. A little more than 60 miles later I reached the intersection of Route 56, a few miles beyond a blip on the map named Chenoweth. I pointed Sunshine northwest towards London and I-75. I decided to ride west towards Springfield to find food and a bed. The night passed well but in the morning as I rode out of the parking lot I had to stop for directions to Route 4 and Marysville (hopefully to watch Honda folks build Gold Wings). I found two men standing in a driveway and when questioned they hemmed and hawed, looked at me, then Sunshine, then at me again, finally telling me I was really out of my way. The first man said I was on the southwest side of Springfield and needed to be in the northeast quadrant. The other man shook his head and told me there were ten different ways to get to Route 4 and he wasn’t sure which one would be the easiest. So he consulted the another man and between the two they finally gave me what seemed like fifteen minutes of lefts, rights and watch out for the pot holes, with many gestures. I was dizzy watching and listening, quite aware they couldn’t make up their minds. Finally I’d had enough, said thanks and left. Surprisingly, with only one misdirection, I found Route 4. I did see most of Springfield though. The roads are pure hell. I rode carefully to save Sunshine’s suspension. Crash, bang, crunch as I rode in and out of gullies and over broken pavement and crossed railroad tracks that hadn’t been maintained for decades. Ohio really has problems with little or no money for the infrastructure. Ohio is not the only state. It’s all very sad. I arrived at the Honda plant and inquired at the reception desk if I could see a representative of the PR department. No, I was told. Some were on vacation and others weren’t in the office. Besides there are no tours of the assembly line offered at this time. The receptionist was apologetic but couldn’t help me. I thanked her and left, muttering under my breath. I was disappointed but I’m a grown man and can take disappointments in stride. Hmmm, I wondered why the universe wasn’t more accommodating. I’d driven past the gate last year. At least I’d gotten as far as the front door. Who knows what next year will bring. So back to Route 4 and Bucyrus where I planned to visit a coffee shop I enjoyed last year. There are several buildings on Main Street covered with artwork. Quite spectacular artwork (see photo) that I wanted to photograph. When I returned to the bike four women were gathered around Sunshine. I used my standard line and told them it would cost 25 cents to look and then said I’d waive the fee. It’s decidedly corny but it breaks the ice and gets a chuckle. We chatted for a few minutes until the mayor walked over to look at the rig. One of the gals, Joy Tarbert introduced me to the Dan Ross. A pleasant man who told me he spent 25 years in the Bucyrus fire department, serving as chief for the last five. After retirement he decided to enter the political fray and run for office. To his surprise he won. He’s enjoying his retirement if the smile on his face is an indication. Bucyrus, at the intersection of Route’s 30 and 4 in Crawford County, is a nice little town struggling like so many communities to remain healthy and solvent. Route 4 runs almost straight to the northeast for 40 miles where I intercepted interstate 80/90 and make a right turn towards Cleveland. I stayed on 80/90 to Elyria where 80 and 90 split. I followed 90 east, through Cleveland (once again on lousy road surfaces) until I reached the Mentor exit. I was back on familiar ground and soon serendipity was about to unfold. My life was about to move in another direction with the help of a new friend. |
| FOLLOW THE YELLOW LINE Motorcycle Touring with Stuart Davis and His Side Car www.followtheyellowline.com |