Well, I tried it once before and couldn’t even make it out of the state of Georgia. Now with a perfectly good voltage regulator, I’m ready to try it again! Hopefully more than 59 miles this time! Somehow, although I was already packed, I still got to bed late getting everything ready for the trip. A cool addition was that I would be able to try out my new SPOT-tracker on this attempt. It should make going back and reviewing my trip much easier than going by pictures and receipts. Little did I know I’d have people watching my every move as I progressed!

The weapon: 2003 Suzuki GSXR 600
Current mileage: 19,614

5/10/2008:

4:00am: Packed and ready to go. Been up for an hour already and currently going over the weather outlook one last time to finalize the gear I’ll bring. Looks like probable rain on the ride back home Sunday but it appears to not be too bad, and with temperatures in the 55 degree range it should be tolerable.

4:30am: Roll out and hit the first gas stop. I’ve actually gotten a good amount of sleep the night before, for once, and I’m not tired at all. Perfect start to a great trip! Make it to the Woodstock gas station and fill up:

First leg: Dayton, OH - 508 miles:

The route I am taking into Canada takes me within 10 miles of my old house in Huber Heights (Dayton suburb). We moved out when I was 4, so I don’t remember much aside from some hazy memories. Looking at the house on GoogleMaps reminds me of the layout, so I’m excited about seeing it again.

Make my way up I-75 and gas up north of Chattanooga, TN, in the Cleveland/Athens area. Grab a coffee and water. Light is just starting to come up. There must be a manufacturing plant close by that has just let off its graveyard shift, as a few workers are hanging out and buying beer at the gas station I am at. I overhear them talking about layoffs, one of which was a buddy of theirs. As one of the gentleman walks in to pay for his gas, he mentions to me with a big smile that it’s too early to be out wandering around. “Story of my life” I reply back. When he pulls away we give each other a wave. Nice guy.

I keep heading up and make my way into some thick fog, probably about 40-50 miles worth of it. Once I get through that, I-75 gets into the mountain area and starts getting pretty scenic. This is my first time on I-75 north of Chattanooga, and I’m pretty impressed. There were a few places that were probably worthy of a picture or two. An exit for the Cherohala Skyway tells me good roads are not too far away.

I’m nearing the end of the tank and I see something a bit odd off the side of the road. Two things that just don’t seem to mix well. I cannot help but take a picture:

“Adult World” next to a large cross? There wasn’t even a church there, just an off road shop. Someone is trying to tell them something, I think.

Gas up at the exit and take a minute to get a quick bite to eat. An older gentleman on a blue FJR pulls up and gasses up next to me. He looks like he’s on a journey too. He’s eying my bike and I wonder what’s going through his mind. He has a pretty slick rain suit on. I need to get something like that. The stuff I have is too hack for what I’m doing.

Finally make it into Kentucky. Scenery is still pretty mountainous, but turning more into farmland. It is definitely different then the area up I-24. Very hilly. Stop for gas just short of Lexington, KY. Call Tiff and update her of my progress, but she already knows where I am at. This new SPOT Tracker is pretty cool!

Head up through Lexington, and I start seeing horse related stuff everywhere. Large horse farms with tons of land and many horse trailers all over the place. I get passed by a M5 and the guy is hauling ass. I give him some room and decide to play follow the leader. We wick it up for at least 20-30 miles at almost 100mph. He’s still pulling away from me and I decide to let him go when we near a construction area.

Cross over the Ohio River and make it into Cincinnati. A bit rough looking city but there is definitely character. I wouldn’t mind taking a day and just taking pictures of some of the old buildings in the area.

1:00pm: Gassing up in Miamisburg OH, last stop before destination #1, roughly 10 miles away still:

Make my way to my old neighborhood and it’s a pretty nice place, a very quiet neighborhood. Mostly starter-sized homes but they are all kept very clean, almost picture perfect. I see a mailman walking from house to house delivering the mail… I didn’t even realize they still do that in neighborhoods like this. I also pass by an ice cream truck heading in the other direction, with kids getting some afternoon snacks. I’m getting excited!

1:40pm: Finally, I arrive:

I see a lady in the garage, kind of eying me, probably wondering who the hell I am. I approach her and tell her I came up from Atlanta GA to visit her house and take some pictures. I told her I lived there a while ago and haven’t been since then. She asked me again why I was here. I guess a sense of adventure is not as strong as in others! She mentioned “Oh, well, that’s nice!” and said it wouldn’t bother her if I took some pictures.

That was all I saw of her, she went inside and shut the garage door, and that was that! I suppose it could have gone worse!

As I’m packing up my camera an older gentleman pulls up and says that I’ve been here since he left a few minutes ago to get a bite to eat, and asks if I need any help. I tell him my story and he says those are the best trips, the kind where you visit the places of your past and re-live old memories.

We talk for a little bit and head our separate ways. I ride around the neighborhood and then continue on back to the interstate to continue on my trip. I make a detour at a gas station to lube the chain. I’ve traveled a little over 500 miles so far.

3:50pm: Pull into a Pilot on the north side of OH for gas and another quick snack. Snap a quick picture of… whatever this is next to the parking lot:

Get all the gear on and clean my shield of all the bugs I’ve collected so far. While going through my tankbag, I notice a small issue… I don’t have the bolts to hold the tank on! It’s been resting on the frame unsecured this whole time. I don’t recall removing the tank any time soon, so I begin to think how long this has been like that. I’m pretty sure I pulled it up to check the air filter before my first attempt two weeks ago, so the bolts must be somewhere on my workbench or on the garage floor. Fortunately I have plenty of M6 bolts to steal off of my bike and the tools to use them:

The donor:

At least it won’t wiggle around on me now:

Make my way through the rest of Ohio, much of which has turned into flat farmland by now, reminding me of the Illinois and Indiana areas I know, and meet up with Toledo before getting to Michigan. The pavement is a bit rough here, and the surroundings look almost like a ghost town. A lot of old style town squares and industrial areas that look like they have been uninhabited for some time now.

It almost looks like it was a booming metropolitan area 50 years ago and suddenly without warning, all of the inhabitants just left. And then, randomly in the not too distant past, they all decided to move back but haven’t gotten around to cleaning the area up yet. Weird. The buildings just have too much wear on them and appear unhealthy. There is a lot of character here, much like at Cincinnati, but the lack of life presence in some parts seem a bit creepy to me.

A sportbike comes up behind me and with me being the stranger, I let him pass. We give each other a wave as he goes by. I follow him through the rest of Toledo. He makes a lot of lane changes, almost randomly. I stay in my lane, and then almost immediately I hit a massive pothole. This happens a few times. He obviously knows the area better than I do. Lesson learned, when on rough pavement… follow the local. The last one almost throws me off the bike, and I make a mental note to check my front rim when I get home. There’s almost no way that last one didn’t damage something.

Finally get into Michigan, the last US state of my journey north, and I can now cross yet another state off of my visited states map. Not too far into the state, there appears to be a detour for I-75. Signs say “I-75 Northbound traffic, take detour” and “Canada Bridge traffic, take I-75”.

ARGH!!!! Which one do I take? Which sign came first?! If I take the Bridge, I have to take I-75. But if I have to take I-75… I should make the detour… no? Well I decide that since I have a GPS, I’ll just skip the detour and worst case I’ll use side streets to get me into Detroit, where the Ambassador Bridge into Canada is. Fortunately I realize later that I-75 is shut down just after the exit for the Bridge and I should be okay. Disaster averted.

I really wanted to take the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel that is just north of the Ambassador Bridge to get into Canada. It’s relatively new and even though it is a little bit more expensive, it would most certainly be fun to ride down a tunnel like that on a motorcycle. But my research tells me that motorcycles are not allowed, so it’s not meant to be.

Fortunately getting to the Bridge into Canada was a piece of cake. They make the signage leading to the Bridge pretty clear, and very shortly after getting off of the interstate, I find myself in front of the booths:

I get excited as I pull up, only to realize this is just the toll booth. No Canadian border patrol here. I pay my four bucks and continue on. As I pull around the corner I see a sign for Duty Free gasoline. I decide “why not” and fill up, since I’m already at about 90 miles into my tank already.

It ends up being a long process as the pump asks for lots of information like license plate # and state, and I soon regret stopping here. After feeling like an idiot, I realize that when it asks for the plate #, the space in it is required. Get that taken care of, fill up, and continue on. The poor guy behind me thought he was smart to get behind a vehicle with only a four gallon gas tank. He learned the hard way that motorcycles take longer to fill up than cars do, by the time we’ve put our gear on and off. He did not look happy to learn his lesson.

Ambassador Bridge:

Oddly enough, the road that leads to the bridge is not much of a road, but more like an alley. It isn’t kept up and has trash, sand, and gravel everywhere. It’s definitely not made with a motorcycle in mind. I’m not sure if it’s just been deteriorating since the new tunnel was built of if the trip into Canada was meant to be this rough. Maybe it’s a last ditch attempt to scare the Americans into staying here in the States. The bridge has a nice view of Detroit and Windsor, Ontario, which isn’t saying much, as these areas are pretty industrial.

Cross over and get to border patrol:

As I wait in line I see a damaged semi. Much to my surprise, he’s actually in a line… and waiting to cross the border. Holy crap he actually drives that thing like that! Yes, those are straps holding the trailer together. You can see it's bowed in pretty bad.

I pull up and hand a nice young lady my passport, and she asks me a few things about my trip. I pull out my camera and she says that pictures aren’t allowed… crap! I answer the rest of her questions and she lets me by with a smile.

I made it through, woohoo!

Canada, here I come!

Ironically… the first thing you get to when you get around the first corner onto the street… is a McDonalds. Pretty well placed too, I might add. It seems like home isn’t so far away after all.

Nothing really appears to be different, but I can definitely tell I’ve found myself in another country. A large sense of accomplishment comes over me as I realize I’ve made it here. I can do whatever I want now, as my goal for today has been completed. At a stop sign I see the Ontario license plate and see their slogan:

“Ontario: Yours To Discover”

Don’t mind if I do! I’m stuck in a city right now and I want to get out on the open road!

Canada definitely made me work for the open road, though. I pull onto 401 which is the first of a few freeway-type roads I’ll be traveling on. It has some construction and ends up being a one-lane road for a good 12 miles. Naturally I, along with about 20 other cars, get stuck behind a fully loaded dump truck probably going awfully slow.

As we are slowly cruising along I see some amazing lush farmland with some very scenic farm houses. I can’t take this any more and pull off early to go exploring. I’m going to try and find some good farm houses to take a picture of. There were many directly off of the freeway so one should not be hard to find. I ride around for about 20 miles enjoying the scenery and realize I’ve already gotten myself lost in the process. I’m probably killing my schedule doing this so I turn around and head back for 401.

While on the road, I begin to think about a big error in planning on my part. As a typical stupid American, I completely forgot about the metric system. Not a big deal, it’s not complicated or anything, but I kept second guessing myself on the speed that is allowed and thinking way too hard about how far things were on the signs. Seeing many of the signs in the rural areas showing a 100km/hr speed limit, I figure I could ride at 75mph and not get too much flack. Everyone else had the same idea so I wasn’t too worried.

Travel through about 100 miles of Canada farmland. The scenery is just awesome. Unfortunately with the limited access highway I’m on, it’s hard to take good pictures of what I see, but I pull off the freeway to get a few pictures of the area:

The 401, wide open road:

7:45pm: Finish the rest of my tank and pull off at a service plaza. I start to feel stupid again as their pumps have way too many buttons on them. I wasn’t really tired at this point, but maybe the miles were starting to take their toll. I soon realize that their pumps have the ability to pump a preset amount, but can operate like normal otherwise. I fill up and pay for my gas. No flack using my credit card, but I don’t bother thinking if the currency is in Canadian or American dollars.

I was also getting pretty hungry by this point so I ask the gas station tenant what she would recommend for a good Canadian meal. I know they like gravy with their fries so I suppose I could expect that as a response. But… she can’t think of anything. She seriously thinks about it for at least a minute and comes up with nothing. I didn’t want to wander around since much of 401 did not have much as far as exits and the service plazas were the most gas and food I saw on most of the road.

I hope she’s proud, because her lack of a response brings Canada down a notch on my cool meter. I would go on and on for hours about great places to get a generic American meal and she can’t think of a single place?! I’m sure I could find a cool little diner or something, which is what I was after, but just simply did not have the time to find one. I was, after all, on a pretty aggressive schedule to make it a Canada trip in less than 48 hours. I would probably only have one meal in Canada and this was it… a Tim Horton’s at the service plaza. Damn.

But it ends up being pretty good. I get a soup and sandwich:

Faster than a stolen car: Gone in sixty seconds!

I take a few random shots of the bike while I’m enjoying Canada:

What the hell, why is everyone so nice here? What’s up with the slightly strange accents? Where are the pickup trucks? Where the hell am I?!

It starts getting a bit dark and I make my way through the northwest side of the Canadian Lake Erie area. Merge onto 403, and then onto QEW, and follow the signs to Niagara Falls. Just like in Detroit, the signs make it pretty clear.

11:15pm: I have my GPS set to the Niagara Falls National Park on the New York side. As I come up to the Rainbow Bridge to get back into the States, I see a splitoff for the Falls. I make a last minute decision to check out the Falls while I am still on the Canada side. Fortunately this ends up being a good idea as the views are the best on this side, and I’d probably have to cross back over to get good pictures anyways.

I pull around and they have it lit up, and I’m a bit surprised at how big Niagara Falls actually is. It’s more like two or three separate waterfalls next to each other. I guess getting to the area at almost midnight has its advantages as nobody is using the pay parking and just stopped on the side of the road.

I pull up on the sidewalk and grab a few pictures:

The Rainbow Bridge connecting Canada and the States:

Head over to the Bridge and get to the USA border patrol. The gentleman there asks me a few questions, this time more detailed. He also asks what I do for a living to allow all this time off to come up to Canada. LOL. I tell him I didn’t need to take any time off for this trip and he doesn’t believe me. He sees my seriousness, and the questions stop. He gives me my passport and tells me to have a safe trip.

Woohoo, back in the States!

Head on out towards I-90 which is mostly toll roads and pretty uneventful. This will take me through the southern side of Lake Erie. I see a service station about a half hour away from Erie PA.

12:30am: Continue on through I-90 and exit at the rest stop. It's getting late and I need to get a room. I planned on getting to Erie PA before calling it a night, roughly 1100 miles for day one. I'm still about half an hour away but still need to confirm a room. I make a few phone calls and all of the hotels that are listed under Erie on my GPS are booked full. Crap.

I decide to keep on and hit the first cheap motel I get to. Four miles down the road is a "Lighthouse Inn" on the exit sign, and decide to take it. At the toll booth I ask the younger kid working it where it's located.

"Ah, man, you don't wanna get a room there", he says.

I tell him it's no big deal, just need something quick and cheap for the night.

"No... you don't want to get a room there", he replies.

I begin to think he knows something I don't, and I should maybe take his advice after all. He says there's a Clarion Inn about ten minutes away in Dunkirk that is pretty nice and should have a room. At this point I settle for anything.

I'm glad he gave me directions, because otherwise I would have been sure I was lost getting there, even having a GPS unit. Dunkirk must be in the middle of nowhere, because civilization is nowhere to be found on the road leading to it. I round the curve and see a town, and I arrive at my final destination for the night.

Unpack the bike and get settled in my room. I was afraid of rain during the night while I slept so I bring just about everything with me to the room. I realize my TV doesn't work. I am hungry. Really damn hungry. Fortunately I brought some food just in case.

This:

... plus this:

Makes this:

I scarf down the scalding hot ramen and go to bed.

5/11/2008

I wake up and jump in the shower, and get everything packed up. Make my way down to the bike and I realize the hotel's next to a pretty large body of water. I boot up the GPS to see where I'm at.

Sweet! My tour around Lake Erie has me stopping right on it in Dunkirk!

I use the opportunity to grab some pictures of the docks:

Playing with my shadow:

This tree at the hotel grounds looked photogenic:

Dunkirk, at least this area of it, was definitely an older area, and the buildings had a lot of great character to them. I walk around and grab a few pictures of the area:

This is one of my favorite pics from the area of Dunkirk. "Cozy Corner Groceries" and "Jossie's Barber Shop":

8:30am: I grab the GPS and plug in my day's destination: Home. Calculations come out to 835 miles and over 14 hours away. I better start scootin'! I'm not even in Pennsylvania yet!

Head out and make it back to I-90 where I make my way through the rest of New York state. Most of this area has old style farmland which some really old looking buildings. Some areas look like they could have been a site location for the movie "The Village" or similar. Very lush green grass everywhere.

Stop just after getting into PA at the welcome center. It's time to lube the chain yet again.

Make my way back into OH and stop in Geneva. The skies are looking dark and I believe the rain I had anticipated is now inevitable. As I am paying for my gas, the clerk tells me I'm gonna get wet. I knew this was happening, so I am not very surprised.

Before leaving the hotel in NY, I checked the weather to see what I would be up against. Cleveland and Cincinnati has a high percent of rain at about 55 degrees. Not bad at all, pretty tolerable. Lexington KY has a scattered warning at higher temperatures. Knoxville and Chattanooga TN came up at 20% chance of rain, and in the 60's.

I figure the rain was okay. I'll probably have 100-200 miles of rain and I'll be out of it. Temps soon in the 60's would dry me out relatively quickly and the second half of my day would be fine.

There was no way to mentally prepare for the disaster that was soon to be upon me.

Before jumping on the bike I put on my rain gear, which consists of a cheap motorcycle raincoat and windbreaker pants. The windbreaker pants work pretty well for most basic wet weather, although they are most definitely not cut out for heavy storms. They should do the trick enough for today. I do not put on my heavy thermal pants and keep just the Draggin jeans on under the windbreakers since the temperatures should not get below 55 degrees.

Just as I'm about to pull out, I witness a lady backing into another lady's car. I would probably consider stopping to make sure they didn't need a witness, but I was on a tight schedule and was already running late. The rain would only make it worse. A gentleman starts looking over their two cars for them and I figure they are in good hands. I continue on.

The rain lasts for less than an hour. I had planned on at least two hours of it so I was relieved. Riding through Cleveland was not fun in the rain but I got through it quick. I'm not sure what is up with the cities in OH but they really are not impressive. Cleveland, Toledo, Cincinnati... these places really could get cleaned up a little bit. The larger cities in my own home state do not leave a great impression.

The skies clear up... and I start to dry out... but after only 15 minutes dark clouds start rolling in and it starts raining again. It gets a bit colder this time and it hangs around 50 degrees, which is pretty chilly for what I'm wearing. I get to Mt. Gilead OH and grab some gas.

I call to get a weather update and I get bad news: the storm has gotten bigger. Lexington KY is now getting wet. I've got at least a full tank of gas to go through until I'm even close to getting out of the rain now. This is going to be a long day as I can already feel my right foot is wet. I must have a leak somewhere in the boot. My gloves feel like they weigh a couple pounds each from the water. I'm relatively dry otherwise, and I hope that heading south will only mean warmer weather.

I stop again at Landen OH which is just before Cincinnati and the Ohio River:

Things are getting worse as the windbreaker just can't keep up anymore and now my legs are soaked. As I fill up the bike, I see the temperature has gone down to the 40's, hanging around 48 degrees. My hands are shaking a little bit, and I'm regretting not just wearing the heavy duty thermal stuff. As I start the bike up, I tell myself that I'll be through it soon, and when I'm gassing up next I'll be able to take off this miserable rain gear and dry myself out.

All I really want to do at this point is eat a quick meal but with the weather the way it is, I keep telling myself it'll be better if I just wait so I can take my time where it's dry. I'll just get too soaked if I sit in a parking lot getting rained on. I head out and get back on the road, yet again in the rain. My shield starts fogging up bad and I need to take small breaths to keep it from getting too blinding. The anti-fog coating of my Scorpion face shield is obviously no good anymore.

My patience is getting worn thin and I decide that getting out of this horrible weather is most important. I decide that there will likely not be much traffic control out during the rain so I wick it up and ride through Cincinnati around 90mph. I get reminded of the bad pavement Cincinnati has and I make a promise to myself to never come here ever again.

Get into Kentucky and fortunately I do not get held up by some of the construction they have there near the state border. The rain seems to be getting worse it seems, and the temperatures have gotten down to 45. My shield keeps fogging up and I have to make shallow breaths to see anything out of my helmet. Somehow I manage to get myself more and more wet. All this, coupled with the temperatures I'm now seeing, are becoming a dangerous combination. I get caught up between some semi trucks... and my mind takes a complete dump. I have to get off the road. Pull off at the first exit I see, Porter KY, and pull into a gas station to get out of the rain.

I make a few more phone calls. The storm is developing further and it appears it will be like this all the way through Tennessee. Large wind gusts are happening in parts of Tennessee and Georgia. I can't even be certain Georgia will even be dry by the time I get home.

I'm seriously thinking about pulling the plug and getting a hotel room. I am incredibly stubborn on these trips, so that is saying a lot. 1100 miles in one day yesterday, and I'm feeling defeated after only 400 miles today. The cold rain is keeping me from being able to loosen up on the bike, so I am in some pain due to this. I am on the phone for probably ten minutes getting the details of the weather development, and shaking the whole time.

The mental toll I'm seeing riding through this weather is just about killing me. I am getting incredibly frustrated. My morale is low. The only reason I'm able to continue on is that I look forward to being dry by the next stop. But instead of getting closer to the end of the storm, the dry areas just keep getting further and further away. It seems like no matter how hard I press on, it just keeps getting further away from me.

This trip has now changed from a trip back home, to a struggle. I'm riding fine, and with a clear head, but when I get to these gas stops my mind just crumbles. I realize that I get incredibly cold when I get off the bike, but while I'm riding I am okay, I feel relatively fine. I'm not sure if stopping at a hotel would benefit me as I have no good way to dry my clothes. I decide to see how far I can go and charge on.

I finish the tank and gas up just south of Lexington KY. I'm starving so I grab my last Clif bar to eat while I fill up. My hands are so tired from the cold I can barely open the package. It's almost pathetic how long it took me to open it.

8:30pm: Temperatures are still around 45 degrees. I'm getting tired but make it through another tank, and gas up just short of Knoxville TN. The wind has picked up and it's adding another dimension to the ride, as it hurts my arms to make the quick corrections I need in response to the strong wind. I have some troubles holding on to my credit card to pay for the pump, and I drop it a couple times in the process. After filling up I go inside to warm up.

I call Tiff to let her know where I'm at. Things are getting worse. She knows something is up. The fatigue is just really getting to me now and I keep everything I say short. I tell her I'll be okay once I get back on the bike, which I honestly believe, but even at this point I'm not so sure anymore that it's healthy.

These last few stops have been very risky. I would never recommend doing what I've been doing here. The fatigue from a ride like this can be tremendous. Rider's meetings at Iron Butt rallies are usually followed by a final instruction: "Don't do anything stupid", and I'm not being too smart at this point. I'm pretty sure that now, it's going to be my stubbornness that's going to get me home now. One more gas stop.

It's finally getting dark and the wind is really picking up now. The rain starts to lighten up as I make it through the base of the mountains. I'm keeping it in my lane with room to spare but it's costing me energy fighting the wind to do so. Traffic flows well through the rest of Tennessee. The rain has now completely stopped, and every few miles brings the temperature up a degree or two. I soon find myself at Chattanooga, and then finally back into Georgia. I cannot begin to describe the feeling of relief and excitement that I have made it.

10:30pm: The rest of my tank takes me into Ringgold where I fill up. I pull into a BP station and oddly enough I recognize the gas station. It must have been from my return trip on my St Louis Saddlesore. I pull up to the same stall as before and fill up. Call Tiffany to let her know I'm almost home. I take a few minutes to relax and enjoy my time a little more.

My fatigue is now totally gone. I'm so stoked about making the trip in two days the rest of the trip home was a piece of cake. I wished I didn't get stormed on as bad as I did, but Canada was such a blast I can honestly say it was worth it.

I pull into Woodstock, and finally get home... I'VE MADE IT!

Tiff greets me in the garage with the best hug I've ever gotten!

Through hell I've ridden during day 2, still completely soaking wet and cold, but you can still see my excitement I think:

The route, still pretty much intact from the first attempt:

My SPOT Tracker data, which was viewed by the online forums as I rode in real time:

Stats:
~1900 miles
42 hours
15 gas stops
7 hours officially off the road
New mileage: 21,406 (uncorrected for gearing)

One hell of a trip!

-Blake