GAS GUY 2019 - (One year a time)

Discussion in 'Ride Reports - Day Trippin'' started by GAS GUY, May 12, 2019.

  1. luftkoph

    luftkoph Been here awhile

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    Boy you gs guys have it made, four star food, and a mobile Starbucks, I gotta to elevate my game.
    Love those pictures of Shawnee
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  2. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    You should consider bringing your KLR down for Wailin' Wayne Weekend 2020. Every kind of adventure bike imaginable was there. Your KLR would be ideal. You would really enjoy the whole atmosphere. The beauty of it is he keeps it small. It sells out because there are only about 125 slots. Even though it has plenty of potential to become bigger and more camping area was offered to make it happen - Chad said, "No, I don't want to lose the essence of the event." Perfect!, because as soon as any organization or group grows to immense proportions, it loses it's luster, in my eyes. Then money and profit become the new priority. As soon as registration opens for 2020, I'll be signing back up.

    Glad you like the old towns like Shawnee. Will post up some more shots from within soon. Those old beat-up towns suck me in and switch on my mind. There is always some kind of powerful prescence lingering in those places.

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  3. kenichi2014

    kenichi2014 WingnPrayer

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    Looking forward to those pics of the old town! If those storefronts could speak, well maybe they do? Enjoying the ride along.
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  4. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    Been chipping away at getting some pictures together and more of the report finished up. Time keeps getting harder to come by. Little by little. Yes, those storefronts do speak .... to those that care to listen. To those that take notice. To those that take the time. They speak in words, history, colors, and weathered patina. They speak even louder in a mysterious language that can't be expressed in words. That is the unspoken language of undefinable emotions and imagination.

    - Nature is patiently reclaiming this old brick structure in Shawnee.

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  5. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    Shawnee, Ohio -

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    The 1870-1880 Capital of the Knights of Labor Union Movement. In town there is a statue of a coal miner swinging a pick-axe while a wax candle flickers above the bill of his cap.

    Just outside of town is a quaint wooded picnic area on Tecumseh Lake which is part of Wayne National Forest.

    Interestingly, Shawnee is also where the small headquarters for the Buckeye Trail Association resides. It sits back and is tucked in amongst some century old buildings.

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    This town is only a block or two long. There is much to take in along that short block. So much interesting architecture and history. The town also sits up slightly on a hill above the nearby state route that runs parallel and below, giving it a unique position; you have to enter and turn into the main street of town, versus most small Ohio towns where the road you are traveling runs you right into town, often becoming the main street. Some building are crumbling and shifting while others show promise and hope. Two particular three-story wooden building had about a foot of clearance between the walls, yet the eaves were kissing at the roof-lines because the structures have been shifting over time.

    Knights Of Labor Opera House -

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    The Knights of Labor was a secret organization founded in 1869 in Philadelphia. The K.O.L. promoted an ideal society based on bettering life for others. Shawnee's local assembly of the K.O.L. organized in 1876 and quickly became a powerful voice for labor in Ohio. National labor leader, William T. Lewis taught free grammar classes at night for the miners. Lewis initiated "The Ohio Plan," the first free employment bureaus in the United States.

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    The K.O.L. became an open organization in 1879. The Opera House was built in 1881, a demonstration of the pride that the Knights Of Labor was no longer a secret organization. The building cost $8,200.00 for basic construction. The bricks were molded by hand and hauled to be fired at the edge of town. The building housed a cooperative store on the first floor, a theater on the second floor, and a library with a classroom and meeting space on the third floor. The center piece of social life and entertainment for the area. After the formation of the American Federation of Labor - the K.O.L. membership diminished. The building was then sold in 1902 to the Knights of Pythias and was sold again in 1943 to the Hannah Brothers Furniture.

    There goes that mysterious name, Knights Of Pythias, again. I've come across that name in Toledo, Ohio where there still stands (barely) an old gothic looking castle that they owned. Later, in the Upper Penninsula of Michigan, in Eagle Harbor, on the Keeweenaw Penninsula, there was mention of the group at a lighthouse I was visiting. Supposedly that is where the idea was formed for the Order of the Knights Of Pythias, by the founder and young teacher, Justus Rathbone. In the pictures of the Opera House, notice how at some point the engraving in the stone of the letter L was changed to a P. You can still see both letters.

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  6. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    Wailin' Wayne Weekend - Friday - (September 6) The Trail Would Inflict Carnage.

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    As I fumble to climb out of the tent and inadvertantly rattle the outer fabric, I'm saturated with morning dew. I'd forgotten we were getting deep into the year. When the warm days and cool evenings bring such heavy dew. The tent and bike was drenched every morning.

    Pancakes, sausage, orange juice, and Backroom Coffee at first call. Seconds were available at every meal as far as I can recall.

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    The organized Intermediate Trail Ride group garnered many riders quickly, so Scott, Kenny, and I went out on our own ride. Scott was out front blazing the trail on his cheater bike; the Husqvarna 610. Kenny and I followed on our GSA's - which were twice the size and weight.

    Kenny had just installed new Tractive shocks on his bike; he maintained his ESA functions, so he could still adjust his damping from the handlebars, at the trade off of less incremental adjustment. Ken was also running Mitas E07 tires (the original's, not the new Plus model).

    Last winter my GSA received a pair of gold Ohlins shocks with piggyback reservoirs that include rebound and compression adjustments. They were purchased used for a fraction of the cost. At the same time I'd also install a Hyperpro steering damper. The main reason for the damper was to improve stability in sand; ironically I've yet to ride much sand since installation. It also helps stability on windy interstate blasts around big trucks and reduces front wheel deflection in rock gardens. I'm sure it will see plenty of sand in the future in Michigan.

    We would spend the better part of the day traversing the Ohio trails. Scrambling up steep and rocky hillsides - with slight rutting and sometimes even turns. Or tougher yet, the occasional switchback - had you at full attention on the adventure bikes. Up on-the -pegs and biased forward over the bars (balls on the tank) with a light grasp on the bars (not a death grip) controlling the bike with balance and weight on the pegs or sometimes with knee pressure against the front wings of the seat, while remembering to breathe. I keep reinforcing that - Breathe! Be conscious of your breathing. In strenuous and stressful situations, what do we do when we are not trained ? We hold our breathe. This depletes your body of oxygen and fatigues you prematurely.

    After a climb, we would sometimes get a breather along a stretch of ridgeline before negotiating a steep descent strewn with loose rock; stretching your arms out as you scootch your butt towards the back of your bike and modulate the front and rear brakes just to the edge of locking up as the bike bounces and wags slightly side to side.

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    At the bottom of a deep valley, the trail would twist and turn and rise and fall before forcing you up another climb. In places there were some slight off-cambered turns and in others - some steep cambered corners. One such extremely steep cambered corner snuck up on you (as you were in before you realized it was there). It was like a vertical wall and it shot you back at almost 180° before running you up a rocky, rutted, and steep incline with a small ledge at the beginning of the ascent. I remember thinking as I railed through it, "Holy shit, glad I didn't have time to think about that section." Instincts just took over.

    Kenny did great on this ride and only crashed 3-times versus the 15 or so on the last off-road outing he went on - in the sand ! I'm proud of Ken; when he bought the GSA new in 2009, our concern was whether he could handle it on the street, as he is short and only weighs about 160-pounds (plus now he has carpal tunnel issues with his hands). Fast-forward and now he is out in this dirt bike terrain. All three crashes on this outing were on hill climbs. The first one snapped off the auxiliary fog light on the right side. It also popped off his turn signal from the stalk; this was later remedied by disassembly and accessing an internal fastener.

    - This was one of the few wet and muddy areas that we encountered all day. Just so happened to be before a tough and slick hill climb. The hill was after a bend in the trail too, so not as much momentum could be carried up the hill.

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    The second one was on a rutted two-track climb in the morning in a wet area (see picture above), so the tracks were still a bit greasy. He made it three-quarters of the way up before hitting a small rock; the slight deflection caused him to loose traction and steer into the side of the berm.

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    After helping to get him upright and to the top (of course I took pictures first) I'd clamber back down the hill to my bike with butterflies in my stomach - anticipating my attempt. I took the left track instead of the right, and clawed my way to the top cleanly, but I could feel my back tire breaking loose multiple times on the way up. This would be the only time during the day that I felt that breaking edge of traction.

    - You can see my bike sitting at the bottom of the hill in that wet area.

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    As we were approaching one rough section of tight and narrow switchbacks up a loose climb, some rider on a 125cc dirt bike came rolling up in disbelief at our huge bikes and said, " Don't go up there, you're crazy, those bikes are way too big. I used to ride a 250 and came down to a 125." We thanked him for his concern and proceeded to clawing and twisting our way up into the Dorr Run Loop. Towards the top is where Kenny crashed the third time.

    The third time had the smell of gear lube wafting in the air as a few drops had escaped the breather tube, as witnessed in the dirt, while the bike was rocked over past it side.

    It was an especially difficult climb because halfway up and the trail had a slight change of direction in a rocky section that could easily break your momentum. When I reached the top, I looked at Scott, parked the bike, and grabbed my camera - cause I just knew it was going to give Ken problems.

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    After riding the complete Main Corridor Trail down to the southern end of the Monday Creek trail system we rode parts of the Dorr Run Loop, the complete Mine Shaft Trail, and part of the Purdum Loop - before connecting back up with paved and gravel roads that would deliver us back to Begley's campground.

    The whole trail system is impressive and under canopy, but the southern sections appealed to me more; they seemed lusher with bigger trees and thicker canopy, the trail felt more quaint with occasional huge boulders and some rock face cliffs nearby in the woods. Even had one small water-crossing with baby head sized rocks.

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    Broken parts on large adventure bikes all across the camp:

    One rider tore off his beak and some associated bodywork from his GS; later he would take an orange safety cone and modify it to protrude forward in place of his beak. Hilarious and creative.

    Another KTM 1090 Adventure veered from it's intended course of direction and ran up against a tree which in turn ripped his starter button from the switchgear housing, leaving him to rig up a metallic hook apparatus to hot-wire his starter button.

    Another GS rider from Canada snapped his Givi Airflow windshield in half; he borrowed a drill and after Boring a series of holes along each side of the break - stitched it back together with zip-ties. Now it matches the other side from a prior incident. He and his friend, both from Toronto were camped next to me so we had a few conversations. I liked them and they were interesting. They were both bankers for over 20-years. They both recently quit because they could no longer stomach the unethical business practices of the banking world. They clearly expressed a resounding "Its appalling." And they said the U.S. is much worse. I believe them.

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    Another guy from Southern Indiana had clipped a large rock with his lower crash bar, which in turn was pushed back into the protruding right cylinder of the boxer twin - creating a slight oil leak. After limping back into camp, he bent the bars back into their normal position as best he could. Then he loosened the valve cover in question, before fiddling with the rubber grommets and re-torquing the bolts. This seemed to have slowed the leak to a weep. He called it a wrap and would head home the next morning, where he could perform a more thorough and complete repair.

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  7. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    This morning started out chilly. No worries. After sleeping in till 6:30, departure would be after sunrise. By afternoon I was enjoying crisp 60's - and soon after 70's. Fresh Autumn air and sunshine. I'm in no hurry. Just cruising. The big Hog is running sweet. The air is breaking cleanly over my helmetless head.

    - Somewhere in South East Ohio.

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  8. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    The navigation was left in the hands of random backroads. They delivered me to Zanesville. It just happened to be my afternoon coffee time. Then I remembered the Northern terminus of the "Triple Nickel" was just up the road. I promise you it wasn't planned. So, I dove into the roller-coaster that is Ohio State Route 555. Heading south of course. This would be the first pass for the recently acquired Project Rushmore Electra Glide. Old memories flooded my mind of days when I'd hustle my old 2003 Glide through those curves.

    - Somewhere along Route 555. Cresting this hill at speed will have your stomach floating. Had the whole route to myself. Could park right in the middle of the road for pictures. Wild looking clouds today.

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  9. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

    Joined:
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    Location:
    Garden City, Michigan
  10. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    An idyllic place, along S.R. 555, to brew a cup of strong afternoon coffee.

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  11. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    High up on a point.

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    Overlooking the Mighty Ohio River - and beyond into New Martinsville, West Virginia.

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    Shadowed beneath some trees, a weathered stone table was found. Perfect place to sit and read my book. It sure feels good to be in no hurry.

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  12. kenichi2014

    kenichi2014 WingnPrayer

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    Brother you delivered as is usual, no short cuts and man some nice historical information to boot! I will have to make that triple 555 ride-those pictures of the roadway were spectacular, to say the least!! I could smell that strong brew way down here in west-central Florida! So much so I had to make a cup myself. Thanks-again!
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  13. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    Southeast Ohio - (Mellow Ride) Today.

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    Slept in for a change. Even let the sun rise and burn off some of the October dew. Spent the day leisurely bombing around on the paved State Routes through Wayne National Forest. Ran Route 26 north out of Marietta past the Mail Pouch Barn.

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    Also stopped at Hune Covered Bridge.

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    Hung a right at the junction for Route 260.

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    That delivered me to the Ohio River and Route 7. Followed that north. Found a pullout with a spectacular view up the river.

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    Hung a left on Route 536. Twisted and climbed up to Kiedaisch Point Park. Been meaning to get there for awhile now. Buzzed right past it in August while knocking down the Ohio 1000, but had to make miles. This time, I had time. Thanks @Buckeye Rich for informing me of it's existence and whereabouts.

    Finished up the remainder of Route 536.

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    Then followed Route 78, from the junction with 536, into Woodsfield, where I grabbed some lunch at a Mexican restaurant and cantina.

    Stayed on Route 800 south to Route 255, which I followed back to the Ohio River. This is a nice road, except for today, as there was lots of construction going on.

    Headed back, south this time, down the river. Stopped in a little riverside rest area for a coffee break. Gypsy style.

    The clouds have really been impressive these last couple of days. Especially late afternoon, looking west, when the low sun is lighting them up. Plus, many of these clouds have a tinge of dark in them that creates contrast.

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    Warmed up some more today. Upper 70's. Almost 80. Maybe it hit 80. Sunny and light air.

    Then I followed Route 260 back to Route 26. Heading back down 260, another vivid display of clouds magnified by the sun. A sharp sky and a lonely road as a backdrop.

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    Continued along Route 26 south as it meanders along the Little Muskingum River and through Wayne National Forest, until it delivered me back into Marietta, where I'm holed up for the night. Great day of easy riding. All of these roads are twisty and hilly and smooth. These Ohio roads are so smooth, that the Electra Glide was doing a pretty good job of impersonating a Gold Wing today.

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  14. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    When you do let me know. If I can break away, I'll meet you down there (here) I'm here now) and give you a tour.
  15. Buckeye Rich

    Buckeye Rich Adventurer

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    Southwestern,Ohio
    Southeastern Ohio is a gem! I love the pics you post. They really capture how awesome the roads are. My pics never do that!
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  16. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

    Joined:
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    Pictures - (Thanks! @ Buckeye Rich)

    My pictures just happened to be one of the many things that were running through my convoluted mind on this last ride.

    Not so long ago, my pictures were lackluster, or mediocre at best. The other day, on the way home, the three most important things that (I feel) transformed my photographs popped into my head:

    1) First and foremost you have to really want to take desirable pictures. Badly! There must be "deep meaning" in your eagerness to capture the soul of the moment. Passion and persistence are the two most valuable tools in your arsenal.

    2) You must have an eye for a prospective shot; then you must recognize the scene as it unfolds. Those around you will not notice it, but will marvel at your picture. Some of this (having an artistic eye) may be (inherent) natural, but most of it must be developed or honed. Recognizing and taking advantage of perspectives, lighting, and colors are imperative.

    3) You have to execute. You have to do the work. You have to stop and take the pictures. You can't be lazy. You must have a compelling desire to capture stunning scenes. Instead of riding past interesting situations that you notice at the last minute, you have to turn around, on that narrow or precarious road - and go back and snap off a slew of shots; often to the dismay of those riding with you of course. Riding solo is a much more conducive mode for realizing creative pictures.

    Learning to nail photographs or hitting on some interesting muse when writing is rewarding in more ways than one. While others are enlightened and take pleasure in what you have to share - YOU take immense pleasure in that. But there is another element: As you refine those arts, you see things that others don't - and that you didn't use to. Plus you have developed the ability to formulate and express them; that alone brings another level of understanding - as you have to dissect situations. You become acutely in tune. Your life becomes richer! In this changing and superficial world - that becomes paramount.

    Some days (at home and work) the creativity just isn't there. Whenever I hit the road though - my mind and soul come to life. There are times when I travel and I don't want to take pictures or write about it. But more often than not, I can't switch it off - and habit compels me to do so anyway. But it's always enlightening once the juices start flowing.

    This picture (one of my favorites) and narrative was slated for another upcoming installment of the Waylin' Wayne Weekend report, but it is the perfect example to expound upon the statements above:

    On the third day of the Wailin' Wayne Weekend, Kenny and I decided to persue some gravel and forest road adventure riding in the surrounding areas. As always, just a fantastic mix of diverse and engaging terrain through the fertile farmlands and Appalachian foothills.

    As we were riding through a tunnel of trees, along a slight ridgeline on a flawless gravel road, and just about to exit out into the open - this quintessential scene unfolded in front of me at the blink of an eye. I saw it instantly! After braking to a stop, Kenny was right next to me and was looking at me quizzically - as I fumbled in my tank bag for the camera phone. He didn't see what I saw. A couple of days later when I sent him the photograph he was absolutely blown away. Then he realized.

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  17. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

    Joined:
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  18. Buckeye Rich

    Buckeye Rich Adventurer

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    Southwestern,Ohio
    That barn window trim and your bike...that's what I'm talking about!
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  19. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

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    Two Days Ago - (Friday, October 11th, 2019)

    Another morning of sleeping in late. Didn't hit the road until 8:30. Had to head for home. Stole a few perfect fall days, but it was time to beat the cold front rolling in; plus I have to work all weekend.

    Followed Route 550 west to Amesville in search of a proper breakfast. Stopped in to the same little beat-up diner as last year when I was on the Road King. New owners already and it has been reconfigured inside. These spartan, dingy, and weathered old diners appeal to me. They have character and are real. Kind of like my Harley Davidsons. Often times character comes from inadequacies. The floor was of narrow hardwood slats in questionable and random condition. One of the walls was of rustic brick with mortar joints that were never smoothed. Another wall was of cracked and pockmarked plaster. Yellowed ceiling tile in a disheveled state. But that's all cool with me. Friendly down-to-earth people running it, as well as the locals who frequent the establishment. The food was just mediocre though. Expensive too, considering. That's the thing though, those small places in the middle of nowhere have to charge more in an attempt to stay in business, versus a restaurant in the city that stays busy 24/7. There are always pro's and con's to everything. Always. Just have to accept that. Before departing I wished the young lady good luck and told her I'd see her next year. She thanked me for stopping in and expressed hope that they could keep the doors open.

    Continued west on 550 through Athens, where I picked up Route 56 (originally an old Indian trail) at it's eastern terminus. While it's an east/west route, it really runs northwest, so it's a fantastic way to bypass Columbus (and stay off of Interstates) on the way home. It's 108-miles long, and I once again rode it in it's entirety till it dead headed with Route 29, which delivered me to Urbana.

    - Ash Cave
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    While on Route 56 and passing through the southernmost section of the Hocking Hills - I had to stop off for a short quarter-mile hike up the narrow gorge, through a forest, to the largest recess cave in Ohio . I've been to Ash Cave a few times in the past. Never hiked up to to investigate the water source that is always trickling over the roof of the cave and down into the small plunge pool that collects on the floor. This time I did. There is a small stream flowing from the lush green forest above; it's a tributary of the East Fork of Queer Creek. There were wire cables strung along to keep people away from the cliff's edge. "Those must just be for liability, as they surely can't save me from myself," were my thoughts, as I stepped over them and scurried down a few rocky ledges to gain a vantage point from where I could stretch and reach the camera over the edge. The picture looks like the pool is only a few feet down, when in reality, it's a hundred feet down.

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    Just past Ash Cave a passing glimpse was caught of a red caboose back in the woods. This is a renovated 1950's caboose that is available for overnight lodging. Complete with a deck off the back and a firepit. The Hocking Hills Caboose.

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    It was a weird day. After coming off two picture perfect sunny fall days, today was strange. The sky had that gray and dark appearance. The clouds looked like snow clouds. The whole look and spirit of the air had changed to that of a cold fall or winter day. Except that the temperature was warm. 70°-80° all day. Didn't seem right. From my experience, a day like this is frigid. A big cold front is blowing in right on my heels. Must be the in-between state that seems so bizarre.

    The first stages of deep fall weather always bring with it an overwhelming spirit of hardship. For many years I loathed the onset of winter. While life is easy now, so many years of struggling through the winter has left a permanent mark upon my soul; unstable conditions while living in cars or friends houses (like trying to stay warm in an abandoned van with a can of sterno while simultaneously trying to keep from being asphyxiated (a delicate balancing act) during a Los Angeles winter), years in the Infantry (freezing in the Korean mountains and DMZ), then struggling as a cement finisher in the off- season (spending my last few dollars to drive out to a job site to build a fire, heat sand and water, mix a batch of mortar to tend to the bricklayers, only to have the mortar freeze under the severe conditions and the day called off with no money made). Certain smells, sounds, or visuals bring so many emotions flooding in, as if I were back in that moment of time; all of those extenuating circumstances that have been forever etched into my being. Riding out in the elements amplifies the experience. Same for spring and summer; but different emotions and recollections. That's alright though. Those rough days make these easy ones sweeter. One defines the other. They will be tough again in the future.

    As I passed through Circleville, an extraordinary three-dimensional mural was spotted that I was not aware of. I've posted other stunning murals from this town. Must have missed this one that highlights Native Americans, agriculture, early modes of transportation, and the original octagon courthouse. The realistic dimensions of the art, coupled with the skies that appear to blend, make it hard to distinguish one world from the other. Amazing.

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    Heading northwest out of Circleville on Route 56 is appealing to me, as you are out in the middle of expansive crop fields, as far as you can see, for a lengthy period of time. Any topographical vastness especially resonates with me.

    If you recall, I'd mentioned making an effort to photograph as many of those glorious architectural marvels that are city or county courthouses in the charming small towns that I pass through. Had to stop and admire this fine example in London, Ohio.

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    Then those dreary skies started spitting raindrops. Not heavy, but light and intermittent. Then I remembered that I'd not packed any rain gear. That is what happens when you're busy and trying to do too much, and bouncing around between multiple bikes just makes matters worse.

    Followed Route 68 north. Figured I'd stop into Findlay for coffee before jumping on I-75 for the final 100-mile blast home. But the gray skies got darker and the rain was picking up intensity. Trying to break through the front, I decided to forgo coffee and rolled right past Findlay, throttling the big twin onto I-75, setting the cruise at 80 MPH, and tucking behind the Freedom Shield.

    While the sky looked dismal to both of my flanks, there showed some faint promise straight ahead and on the horizon. The wind was out of the south and on my back. So I had that going for me. Light rain all the way to Toledo. Then the shit-show started from there all the way home. Bad roads, construction, congestion, traffic lights, and rain. Traffic came to a halt on I-75 due to construction. A line as long as you could see of semi-trucks. It's times like this that I question myself as to why I continue to pursue traveling. I'm sitting in the rain with an idling air-cooled 103-inch V-twin. For who knows how long. Fuck this! After a moments thought, I'd elected to turn it around right on the freeway and whack the throttle and run right up the long (one-way) on-ramp to the freeway (past an on-coming car) and past the do not enter sign back to a secondary road (Alexis) and whip into a McDonalds while looking around to see if any cops were coming to arrest me. Made it. And got me a coffee too!

    Then I'd have to resort to riding a smaller highway most of the way home. Stop-light to stop-light. In an incessant drizzle. And through congested towns on broken Michigan roads. As I approach Detroit the anger and anxiety incrementally creeps back in. But hey, it's not fun and games all the time. From the outside looking in it seems all glamorous and fantastic. Sometimes you have to pay your dues.

    This morning as I was walking out the door to a wet 40° morning commute to work at 5:30, my wife called out to me from bed, "Are you taking the van?"

    My reply, "No, I'm riding the ST."

    "You sure like to beat yourself up." She said.

    "You mean I'm a masochist?" I corrected her.

    She replied, "Yes, that's what I was going to say, but I didn't know if you knew what that meant."

    "See you later, dear."

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    Samspade, drbuzzard, Bigbob1 and 2 others like this.
  20. GAS GUY

    GAS GUY MILE EATER

    Joined:
    Jul 27, 2007
    Oddometer:
    6,967
    Location:
    Garden City, Michigan
    Route 260 - (Southeast Ohio)

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