After Thoughts

Wednesday, August 3rd

I've been home for just over a week now and have had some time to think about the trip, and have had a few thoughts.

Trip Totals:  Miles- 14,588.  Days- 82.  States- 35.  Countries- 1 (thanks to Canada not allowing me in...still a little bitter).  Hotels- 26 (this is not 100% accurate, but close.)  Number of times I seriously considered quitting- 3.  Dollars spent-  I'm not going to say the actual dollar amount, but will say I spent more than twice what I thought I would.  "When packing for vacation, take half as much clothing and twice as much money."  I don't know who said it, but it's true.  I sent clothes home twice.  Oil Changes- 3. Double Quarter Pounders with cheese-  I'm glad I didn't keep track, because it would probably make me sick thinking of how many I had.  Speaking of which, Pounds gained- 12.  Number of times I used a hotel pool or exercise room- 0.  Pages read of the book I brought with me- 14.  I thought I would read a lot more than I did.  Number of tow trucks- 2.  Once for my bike when I left the battery on and once when my friend's car in Miami died.  Number of times I was told I look like Zach Galifianakis- 5.

Mini Goals:  I wanted do a 500 mile day on the trip.  I did that riding from Seattle to Boise.  So cheers to myself for that.  Another was not to trim my beard the entire time I was on my journey.  I did not, still haven't, and don't want to.

                                             Day 1                                                    

                                         Day 84 - not combed

                                            Day 84 - combed

Favorite rides:  Driving the west coast, especially Oregon.  I was unable to ride the entire coast of California because the road was closed.  Badlands National Park in South Dakota.  Utah, a state I had not planned on riding through, turned out to be one of my favorite rides from essentially the northwest to southeast corner.  70 west from Denver into Utah.  A little corner of Arizona on I-15 between Utah and Nevada.  Riding the south rim of the Grand Canyon.  The coastal road in Maine.  US 1 to Key West.  Route 550 in New Mexico.  Riding with Brian Head in Chicago, Ryan Parle in Boulder, my Uncles Ray and Jack (Jack and I rode for about 5 minutes together on the way to his boat) in Florida, and my Uncle Dan in New Hampshire.  

Least Favorite Place to Ride:  The panhandle of Texas.  

Activity I Did for the First Time:  Surfing.  Love it!

Disappointing:  I did not go to Yellowstone or Glacier National Park, Montana, or Vancouver as planned.    There are some friends I missed along the way that I would have liked to have seen, but timing, etc., didn't allow it.  

America truly is beautiful.  Not only the landscape, but the people.  Are there places I'd rather not go, and people I'd rather not run into?  Yes.  But nothing's perfect.  Most people I encountered were friendly and a pleasure to talk to.  There are people out there that truly enjoy what they do.  Maybe it's not their dream job, but they make the most of it, and that positivity has an effect on the people around them.  I truly believe there is more good than bad.  People underestimate the power of a smile, or a wave, or just saying "hi."  GPS is helpful, but getting lost is more fun.  People don't get enough vacation time.  Spend more time making your dreams come true than thinking of reasons you can't.  The biggest obstacle in your way of doing what you want to do is you.  Nike has it right.  Just do it.  You don't need all the stuff you think you do.  I touched 35 states, and barely scratched the surface of what there is to see and do in the USA.  I can't wait to explore more.  

A big thanks to everyone I met along the way.  I am very lucky to have such fantastic friends and family, and that they live all over the country.  ;)  Thank you for your generosity, time, and opening your homes to me.

Harley Davidson makes a great product.  I did not have any mechanical issues with my 2007 Street Glide, and faithful companion, Clyde.  Best Westerns are great hotels.  A lot of them have are designed in a style representative of their location.  Their clean, and reasonably priced.  And no, Harley nor Best Western paid me for my endorsement.  

Would I do it again?  Yes, in a heartbeat.  Would I have said that during the trip?  No.

What am I gonna do next?  Maybe I'll keep blogging and keep those interested updated.   

Home

Saturday, July 23rd

It was just a 153 mile drive to Buffalo.  The weather was pleasant, but I can't saying driving on I-90 is.  I made to the hotel and rendezvous point with no problems.  My friends Tony, Donna, Yuri, and Carla made it just about an hour after I got there.  Seems they had some issues at the border coming from Canada, but America kindly allowed them to enter.  It was great seeing them and we had some good times Buffalo!  The next day I rode up to Niagara Falls and had a quick look.  My intention was to get a good picture of Clyde with the falls in the background.  But I couldn't find a good spot to do that.  Oh well.  Sunday night I met the sisters of a friend from Buffalo, who now lives in Boston (Colleen, if ya know her), for dinner.

Monday morning I woke up dreading this moment.  The moment I would get on the bike for my final ride! The moment was delayed because of thunderstorms.  How fitting.  As if I wasn't in a bad mood already.  Fortunately they broke at check-out time, noon.  I have to say the timing was pretty good there.  I would  have been none too happy leaving in the rain.  So the sun shone on me as I drove the last 206 miles back to Cleveland.  Again, sad it's over, but happy I did it.

                              Happy

                                Sad

I did it.  I drove to the four corners of the lower 48 states on my motorcycle.

The Rivers Styx

Friday, July 22nd

I reluctantly left Montpelier and started a day of driving to get as close to Buffalo as I could, without straining myself too much.  After just a couple of hours of driving scenic roads in Vermont and part of New York, I hit the rivers Styx, or I-90 as most call it.  The interstate that leads to Cleveland, the final destination.  Home.  The end.  The death of my trip that I'm loving so much.   After all the incredible scenery America has to offer, I'm on back on rice pudding road.   Boring.  Grey.  I-90.  Eighteen wheelers, construction, and tolls.  Tasteless service plazas with no picnic tables under trees.  Miles from the blue ocean water, instead of feet.  No more stopping at the site of something interesting and unexpected, like the naturally formed hole in a rock I saw in Utah.  Or an incredible beach on the Oregon coast.  Or a ranch in Wyoming with a funny name.  Regulated stops every 39 miles.

I'm trying to focus on the good, seeing my friends in Buffalo, and all I'd seen and done, but it's difficult.  I made it to Syracuse a little on the blue side.

License Plates Don't Lie

Thursday, July 21st

Although it was difficult to shake the anger I had for Canada, I woke up in good spirits, knowing I could take my time getting to Buffalo in time to see my friends on Saturday.  I took the back roads through Maine and into New Hampshire on Route 2 hugging the northern edge of the White Mountains.  It was sunny most of the day, with high winds and dark clouds always just around the corner, but never quite taking up residence where I was driving.  The threat was always there, but it never did storm.

I made my way into Vermont, the Evergreen State, as the license plates tell you.  License plates don't lie.  It is very green, and a great state for driving.  The roads could be smoother, but the scenery more than makes up for it.  Lush greenery surrounds you.  Roads follow rivers.  I couldn't help but think of Easy Rider.  The last shot in the movie is taken from a helicopter as it ascends.  You see a road next to a river.  In the commentary on the DVD,  Peter Fonda says that the road that man built and the road that God built are side by side.  I always find it more enjoyable to be on a road that follows nature as best as possible, instead of being on a road that nature was obviously destroyed for.  Some roads or highways just look unnatural in the path that was cleared for them.  I was happy to be driving through Vermont, and thought of Ben and Jerry happily making their ice cream here in a renovated gas station in the early 80's.

I stopped in Montpelier for the night in what was one of the friendliest, cleanest hotels I'd been in on my trip.  Ten minutes after I was in my room, I got a phone call.  "Hi Mr. O'Malley.  Is everything to your liking?  Is there anything you need?"  Hmmm.....maybe some ice cream.

DENIED

Wednesday, July 20th

Bar Harbor to Augusta, Maine is a 102 mile drive.  I drove from Bar Harbor to Augusta, but drove 330 miles.  My intended route home was from Maine to Quebec City, to Ottawa, to Toronto for a reunion with friends from Korea, then Buffalo back to Cleveland.

After I came back from Cadillac mountain, I had a delicious breakfast at a cafe, packed up, and headed for the Canadian border.  From Skowhegan, Maine, the last city in Maine to the border with decent cell phone reception, it's 80 miles up a two lane road called the "Old Canada Road."  The Old Canada Road Scenic Byway is a snapshot in time, this segment of U.S. Rt. 201 winds right alongside the Kennebec River and Wyman Lake.  For generations, it was the preferred thoroughfare for those traveling between Maine and Quebec, looking for a better life and a way to support their growing families.  Thousands of French Canadians journeyed south along the road in the 1880's to work in Maine's woods, mills, and factories.  It's a beautiful drive with very small towns along the way, and logging trucks.  The logging trucks annoyed me because bark frequently falls of the trucks, but I enjoyed the smell of freshly cut trees.

  


I got to the border and pulled up to the Canadian border agent's booth.  She asked me the usual questions.  Where are you going?  How long will you be in Canada?  Do you have any weapons on you? etc.  I answered all the questions, seemingly to her satisfaction.  She then handed back my passport with a yellow sheet of paper and told me to pull over because I would be searched.  I pulled over under the canopy as instructed, and two border agents came out and did a very thorough search of all my belongings.  After they finished, and found nothing illegal, they allowed me to put all my things back and said to follow them into the immigration building.  They told me to sit down.  Shortly after, one of them called me up to a counter.  He asked all the same questions the border agent at the booth had asked.  In addition he asked, "How much money do you have?"
"On me?' I responded.  It's normal for them to ask how much money you have in your possession.  
"No, in total."
"In my bank accounts?"  A bit confused that he wanted to know my net worth.
"Yes.  Do you have thousands of dollars?"
"Uh, yes.  I have thousands of dollars."  Annoyed he wanted to know my net worth.
"Have you ever been arrested?'
"Ever?"
"Yes."
"When I was 24 I got a DUI."
"Did you go to jail or pay a fine."
"I paid a fine."
"And?"
"And that's all."
"Anything else?"
"No."
"Sit down."


I sat down and struck up a conversation with an elderly couple from Florida that were going through the same process, and had been one step ahead of me.  They had driven through the border several times, and this was also their first time going through this process.  After about 15 minutes, the elderly couple was called up and given their passports.  They were free to go.


Then I was called up to the counter.  The agent held my passport in his hand as if he were reading a book, and had some papers spread out on the counter.  He looked at me and said, "Sir, you have been denied entry into Canada."  I nervously laughed, a bit in shock at what he had just told me and asked why.  He said that I have a DUI on my record from 2003, and that no one is allowed entry into Canada with a DUI on their record for ten years after the offense.  In the past year, most recently March, I had driven to Toronto, and had no problems getting through the border, and explained this to him.  He said that those two times they did not do a background check, and if they had, I would have been denied entry.  Then he explained that I was not to try to enter Canada through any other border, and that if I tried, I would be detained.  Two of the documents on the counter were identical.  One was for Canada, and one I was to give to U.S. immigration when I drove back through.  A third document was to expedite the process of allowing me entry into Canada.  He explained this process would take about a year.  I signed both documents, picked up the one I needed to get back into the U.S., and he gave me my passport.  Then he tried to hand me the document to expedite the process.  I said, "No thanks.  I don't want that.  I won't ever come back to Canada.  Now how do I get outta here!"  I was not happy.


As I drove back down the "old Canada road", I laughed, then got very upset and was near tears I was banned from a country, then got angry.  I had payed for that crime in the states long ago, and had been to Canada since.  Periodically I raised my left hand high, with my right hand twisting the accelerator as far as it would go, and gave Canada the finger.    


I drove to Augusta to get a room for the night.  I drove 330 miles to stay in Maine.  Dejected, I checked in, then went back outside to get my things and park my bike.  Two guys were hovering around it.  Turns out they were admiring it.  They were from southern Illinois.  One retired.  One enjoying his six week vacation.  They had ridden here on Honda Goldwings.  They told me about their trip, and I told them about mine.  They were in awe, and asked to shake my hand.  We ended up talking for quite a while.  Stories from the road, great routes to take, and future rides we'd like to take.  I'd really like to thank these guys for lifting my spirits out of my "banned from Canada funk."  They helped me realize how amazing my trip has been, and how lucky I am that I got to do it.  After talking to a couple of hard working Americans out enjoying our great nation on two wheels, I wasn't so down about not finishing the trip with my planned Canadian route.  


I called my friends in Canada that night to explain why I wouldn't make the reunion.  Fortunately, four of them could make it down to Buffalo on Saturday night.  So while I won't make the big reunion in Toronto on the 26th, I'll get to see four of my friends in Buffalo!   


P.S.  I did a little research.  Canada's land mass is 7% of the earth.  I am banned from setting foot on 7% of this earth!....until 2013.

The Fourth Corner!

Tuesday, July 19th

It was a sunny day as I left my grandma's house in Hooksett, New Hampshire and headed for the fourth corner.  I started the day on the highway, but because of construction and high winds, I jumped off and took the coastal road.  What a great decision!  It was very Maine.  The drive leads you through some smaller towns with quaint harbors, dotted with sailboats. It made me think of the history that lies in old pubs in these towns.  Stories of lobster fishermen, a family man trying to take his family out for a day of boating and getting caught in a storm, or the tourist that tried his hand at sailing and learned what a boom is the hard way.  Outside of the towns, you see old cemeteries and fields with rock scattered about that reminded me of the rock wall lining a hay field from the movie Shawshank Redemption.

I crossed a bridge, and was on the island where Acadia National Park, my fourth corner, resides.  Once on the island, you could smell the sea with a hint of pine.  A cologne I would wear, but don't know if women would find attractive.  I got to my hotel, rested, then took a walk at sunset through idyllic Bar Harbor, Maine.  Oranges, purples, and pinks blended together for a surreal sunset that I watched from a grass knoll over looking the harbor.  On my way home I grabbed a lobster roll to satisfy my stomach, and was feeling very calm, but looking forward to the next day's ride up Cadillac mountain, the first place the sun's rays touch the U.S. (Part of the year, but not this part.  If I'm honest, the fall and winter.  But still a pretty cool place for the fourth corner!).

                 Bar Harbor (Bah Hahbah)

Despite my best efforts to be up in time for sunrise, I woke up at 8 am, jumped on my bike, and drove up Cadillac mountain, completing my mission of touching the four corners of the lower 48 states!  I took in the spectacular view, and thought about the journey that led me to this point.  It's now July 20th.  I left May 5th, which now seems like at eternity ago.  I could no longer feel the cold wind that had chilled my bones, had completely forgotten what it had felt like being soaked to the bone, my resentment towards the wind that pushed me so hard so often had faded, and I could no longer vividly recall the sting of hail on my face.  It was as if I had nothing but warm sunshine embracing me the entire trip.  It was all worth it.  I didn't have the beaming smile I thought I would, but just felt content.  I didn't feed any starving children.  I didn't save any lives.  I gave my self a fun, exciting challenge, and I'd completed it.  Almost.  I'm not home yet.

Vacation from Vacation from Vacation

Wednesday, July 13th

It was just a short 56 mile sprint up a very bumpy I-93 from Boston to my Aunt Joan's house in Windham, New Hampshire.  I felt a few sprinkles, but fortunately the rain waited until I was safe and sound to really come down.

For those that don't know my family, maybe I should explain.  My mom comes from a family of sixteen.  Eight boys and eight girls.  The four oldest live in the Cleveland area, one lives in Puerto Rico, and two live in Florida.  The rest, nine, by my count, live in the Boston/New Hampshire area, as well as my grandma.  The age range is 59 to 37.  So I'm closer in age to some of my aunts and uncles than I am to some of my cousins.  I saw two of them in Florida, Jack and Colleen.  I'm always pumped when I get to see the New Hampshire crew.  It's rare that I see them, and I love the opportunity to hang out with my aunts and uncles, and get to know the younger cousins, the youngest of which is 3 years old, I think.

I spent Wednesday to Tuesday spending time with the family.  Highlights were boating on Lake Winnipesaukee, riding the Kanc, or Kancamagus highway through the White mountains with my Uncle Dan (he rented a Harley), bbqing, dirt biking with my cousin Davis, and just spending quality time with my grandma and family that I love so much.  I have been blessed with an amazing family.

My cousin Davis getting some good height on this jump!

       A nice ride around the lakes region

From left to right:  My cousin Ally, Aunt Nancy, cousin Steph, Aunt Joan

       My cousins Katie and Jack

      Joan on the rope swing!

     One of two Uncle Dans and my cousin Christian

        My cousin Katie and another cousin Jack.

I do have to say that after this vacation from my vacation, I was exhausted and felt like I needed a vacation from my vacation from my vacation.  But it was worth it.