Tag Archives: U.S. Tours

Riding Central New Mexico

Astronomy, History and Great Roads

motorcycle ride New Mexico
Central New Mexico is a motorcycling wonderland offering up environmental and cultural diversity only found in the American Southwest. Photos by the author.

I stand over the open side case of my BMW R 1200 GS outside the Black’s Smuggler Winery in Bosque, New Mexico. I carefully wrap the bottle of local cabernet in a t-shirt and pack it in the middle of my left side box. It has become a tradition to bring my wife a bottle of the regional wine from any state I visit without her. If that means packing a little lighter for the ride, so be it. This is early in my trek through west-central New Mexico, so the bottle of red will be my traveling companion for several hundred beautiful miles.

I head south through the arid Southwestern landscape, cutting through a portion of the Sevilleta National Wildlife Refuge. This terrain lives up to the common perception of New Mexico. However, I know that my ride will encompass much more than desert — on a map my 400 miles will trace a big letter C through the diversity that is central New Mexico.

motorcycle ride New Mexico
Map of the route taken, by Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.

The first real town on my route is Socorro. The historic city sits in the Rio Grande Valley and is the seat of Socorro County. There is copious history in this region, much of it tied to the strong Mexican influence. The name translates “to give aid or to give succor,” which is a reflection of the town’s early history of importance to the earliest of Mexican immigrants, including the 1598 expedition led by Don Juan de Oñate y Salazar.

The sun is low in the sky as I roll west out of Socorro on U.S. Route 60. The road is just a bit curvier, the grass is greener and mountains emerge in the horizon. Just after I ride through tiny Magdalena, juniper trees and other low evergreens dot the landscape. The Tres Montosas peaks rise out of the high chaparral landscape to my right.

Datil New Mexico
It has been a while since a wrench has been turned in this garage in Datil.

Just as I am getting used to the treed horizon, the evergreens subside and something otherworldly replaces them. Huge, white bowls stand like strange, metallic mushrooms on the expansive Plains of San Agustin. I am rolling into the Very Large Array, a world-renowned astronomical radio observatory. Each movable antenna is 25 meters in diameter. The observatory, which dates back to the early 1970s, has made key observations of black holes, pulsars and other intergalactic intrigues. The white bowls are so spread out as to be on the horizon for several miles of my ride.

Very Large Array (VLA)
The astronomical dishes of the Very Large Array (VLA) rise impressively out of the New Mexican desert.

Once clear of the VLA, I ride up in elevation and vegetation to my stop for the night. Datil is a tiny town sitting at an elevation of 7,400 feet. I walk into the small general store that also serves as the check-in desk for the Eagle Guest Ranch. I am told by the amiable man handing me the room key that the guest ranch serves as the annual encampment for a big Moto Guzzi rally. I shed my gear in my room before heading to the guest ranch’s restaurant, which has the reputation as one of the best steak houses in New Mexico. Not having enough appetite for one of their large, fresh-cut slabs of meat, I opt for what turns out to be a delectable steak sandwich and a cold dark lager.

Eagle Guest Ranch in Datil
A room in the Eagle Guest Ranch in Datil serves as my stopover for the ride.

The morning air is cool as I roll out of Datil to the west. This stretch of U.S. 60 is lined with a mix of juniper and pine trees and the elevation brings a nice green hue that sits in subtle contrast to the desert and chaparral terrains of the prior day’s ride. Long, sweeping turns are a great warm-up to what will prove to be a supremely entertaining riding day.

Signs indicate I am approaching the aptly named Pie Town. I ride into what is basically a two pie-shop town that has garnered national attention for its quirkiness and mouth-watering baked treats. It has even been featured on CBS’s “Sunday Morning.” It is too early for pie, and I am not much of a sweets guy anyway, but I have to stop and visit the famous bakeries. Fun stuff.

Pie Town, New Mexico
World-famous baked goods are served up in tiny Pie Town, New Mexico.

With the aroma of crust and filling still clinging to my riding gear, I head farther west on U.S. 60. Again, the trees subside into high grasslands as I make my way to Quemado. Another tiny, inhabited dot on the map, Quemado features a small hotel, a few restaurants, a school and the Sacred Heart Catholic Church with its twin bells and historic cemetery. The quaint hamlet spells the end of my jaunt on U.S. 60.

I have been looking forward to the ride on State Route 32 since the employee at the Eagle Guest Ranch told me that it was the favorite stretch for the riders attending the Guzzi rally each year. Heading south out of Quemado, the road begins with sweeping turns and expansive views of the New Mexican grasslands. However, in just a few short miles, I climb into a beautiful pine forest. The trees grow larger with the climb in elevation that also brings the most winding and entertaining tarmac of the ride so far.

The beautiful road tops out at Jewett Gap, which sits at an elevation of more than 8,200 feet. After that crest, I start my curvy descent through rock canyons and then beside Apache Creek as I head farther south on my C-shaped New Mexican tour. I think back to the muted browns of the start of the ride as I take in the vibrant greens of this mountain region.

I ride into the small, bustling logging and ranching town of Reserve. I gas up and have a chat with the counter worker who is intrigued by the big GS at the pump. After telling him that I am heading south to Silver City, he tells me that I should take the short ride west past Luna where there is a great view of the entire valley. Of course I’m up for that, and I head west. The ride to Luna is fun, and the end game, that overlook, is all that the gas station attendant said it would be.

motorcycle ride New Mexico
The elevated view eastward over the town of Luna is panoramic and enchanting.

After retracing my ride to the east, I turn south on U.S. Route 180, which will be my route through the Gila National Forest all the way to Silver City. After dropping out of the forest, I come upon the Aldo Leopold Vista Picnic Area. Leopold has long been one of my favorite nature writers and his book, “A Sand County Almanac,” holds a special place in my heart and in my bookcase back home. The views from the vista are massive and their unspoiled nature would make Leopold proud. After a quiet visit to the vista, I am back on the road. As I roll though a beautiful mix of environments, I can’t help but think of some of my favorite Leopold quotes. The most fitting for this ride may be, “Wilderness is the one kind of playground which mankind cannot build to order.” Well said, Aldo.

downtown Silver City New Mexico
Silver City’s central Bullard Street is lined with pastel-hued adobe structures.

The remaining 40 miles to Silver City winds through grasslands, rocky outcroppings and ranches as I trace the bottom curve of the big letter C. I roll into Silver City under the arching welcoming sign to the city’s downtown. In comparison to the tiny towns I have ridden through on this trip, Silver City seems like a metropolis. OK, that’s an overstatement, but the town of more than 10,000 residents is active and vibrant. Silver City is home to Western New Mexico University and, like most college towns, there is an added youthful vigor. That energy permeates the town’s historic ambiance and Southwestern flair to create a delightful cultural mix. There are even stately Victorian homes in the historic district.

Silver City, New Mexico
Silver City is a bustling college town boasting authentic Mexican food and fun lodging.

I realize that it has been a huge faux pas that I have not had a Mexican meal on my tour of New Mexico. I pull in front of the Jalisco Café to remedy that oversight. I take in the colorful Mexican-themed décor as I wait in ever heightening anticipation for my chili relleno. It did not disappoint.

It is with a full stomach that I head out on the final stage to complete the bottom, eastward arc of my big letter C tour of New Mexico. I roll onto State Route 152, and soon realize that I have saved some of the best riding of the trip for last. I carve my way on the narrow and winding road through rocky passes, and juniper and oak thickets before dropping down back into grasslands and big views.

Silver City log cabin
A well-preserved log cabin highlights Silver City’s rich history.

As I end my tour where the winding road meets Interstate 25, I think about the nature of motorcycling. If I had ridden from my start in Bosque to where I am sitting at the Caballo Reservoir on the interstate, it would have been a short, direct, boring two-hour ride. But, in making that speedy letter I into an indirect letter C, I have done what motorcyclists have relished since the dawn of the sport — explore off the beaten path. What could be done on a superslab in two hours took me two days, and that’s just the way I like it. I’ll tell my wife about it when I deliver the well-traveled bottle of New Mexico cabernet.

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Favorite Ride: Mineral King and Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Parks

Yokohl Valley Road
Yokohl Valley Road presents a series of serpentine switchbacks as it curves narrowly through groves of oak trees. Tar snakes, yes. Traffic, no. Photos by the author.

The mission was simple: See some scenery, carve some curves and soak up some cool temperatures before the summer heat arrived.

Three of us left our homes in different corners of Los Angeles, California; I was on a KTM 1090 Adventure R, my brother was riding my BMW R 1200 GS and our friend was on a Honda ST1300, and we met at the Halfway House café, a popular stop for weekend riders. After a hearty breakfast — of the kind none of us ever eats on a non-riding day — we headed northeast through a string of sweet winding roads. Traversing Vasquez Canyon, Bouquet Canyon, Spunky Canyon and San Francisquito Canyon, we made our way through Lake Elizabeth and headed down into the wide Antelope Valley.

Sequoia Kings Canyon california motorcycle ride
A map of the route taken, by Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.

The cool morning air rose to warming levels by the time we’d run the long straight roads that climb past Willow Springs, through a forest of wind turbines to the town of Tehachapi, where we gassed up and hydrated. Then, it was down wiggling Woodford-Tehachapi Road — pausing to admire the famed Tehachapi Loop, a railroad engineering wonder that curly-cues a length of track around itself, and the César E. Chávez National Monument, a library, museum and memorial of the California farm unionizer.

I’d been impressed by the roadworthiness of the 1090 Adventure R. My impressions improved as we began the tight twists of Caliente Bodfish Road, a narrow two-lane series of sharp curves that brought out the beast in it. Mindful of the livestock roaming along the unfenced sides of the road, and not wanting to dust my riding partners, I modulated the throttle as we rose up and over the crest and proceeded north toward Lake Isabella.

KTM 1090 Adventure R
The KTM 1090 Adventure R had intrigued me most for its off-road capability, but it was on the twisties that I was most impressed.

Wildflowers carpeted the flat fields of Walker Basin, where we paused to take beauty shots of the bikes and complain about the rising heat. Knowing we had a lot of miles left to cover, and certain it was going to get warmer before it got cooler, we dashed down the mountain, past Lake Isabella, to air conditioning, cold drinks and lunch in Kernville at Cheryl’s Diner.

Revived, we scooted out of Kernville, running north along the banks of the Kern River up Mountain Highway 99, watching the trees change from willow and sycamore to oak and finally pine. This higher-speed road carves up an increasingly narrow ravine, the rock walls closing in as the corners tighten. Riding past the turnoff for Sherman Pass, we skirted Johnsondale, left 99 for the seasonally closed M-90, and summitted at 7,300 feet near Ponderosa.

Walker Basin along the Caliente Bodfish Road
Despite the early summer heat, the fields of Walker Basin along the Caliente Bodfish Road were still resplendent with yellow wildflowers.

The 25 miles of State Route 190 downhill to the town of Springville may be the most dramatic motorcycle road in California. Countless tight corners, including some tricky decreasing-radius turns, drop almost 6,000 feet in elevation through pine forests and past trickling waterfalls.

We gassed up again and guzzled cool drinks under a broiling sun in Springville before running the last leg of our first ride day — the splendid, high-speed M-296/Yokohl Valley Drive, a poorly paved length of pavement with some extremely tight hairpin turns that crosses oak-dotted ranchland. When that deposited us on State Route 198, we hooked right, slid past the edge of glistening Lake Kaweah, and landed in Three Rivers, where we’d booked rooms for the night.

Yokohl Valley
David, astride the BMW R 1200 GS, gets a good look at the soft suede hills of Yokohl Valley.

We’d done a little more than 250 miles from the Halfway House. An ample meal at Sequoia Cider Mill prepared us for a good long sleep.

Again mindful of the heat, we saddled up early and rode north to the turnoff for Mineral King. Once a prosperous silver mining area — hence its name — Mineral King got national attention in the 1960s when the Walt Disney Company selected it to build a massive mountain ski resort. Environmentalists intervened; Disney departed.

What remains are the granite cliffs, groves of giant sequoias, rustic cabins dating from the 1870s and a narrow, patchy length of pavement that climbs 7,000 feet in a short 28 miles. It’s a slow, uneven road snaking through dense forests, past cabins hidden in the trees, hugging the side of a canyon wall that features sheer drops to the east fork of the Kaweah River far below.

giant redwood
A few miles uphill from the hot flats of Three Rivers, there suddenly appear redwood trees. This hardy survivor—the tree, that is—had been there for quite a while.

At the road’s end, in an alpine valley dotted with wildflowers and interlaced with gentle streams, we paused to fill our lungs with crisp mountain air and take the obligatory photographs. Hikers setting out for the peaks were headed for 11,000 feet and higher. We mounted up and picked our way slowly back down the hill.

Soon we were on Generals Highway, entering the Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks area — I was getting to use my lifetime “senior” pass for the first time — and biting into a delightful lunch at the recently redesigned Wuksachi Lodge. An hour later, we had the keys to our cabins at John Muir Lodge. While my companions headed for the showers, I did an hour-long hike among the giant sequoias at Grant Grove, communing with the silence as the sun went down and the temperature dropped.

John Muir Lodge, high among the redwoods in Sequoia National Park
It was dusk and a chill was settling down as we parked the bikes and checked into our cabins at John Muir Lodge, high among the redwoods in Sequoia National Park.

Morning broke cold and damp, and it was 45 degrees as we walked to breakfast. It was colder and foggier when we saddled up and headed down East Kings Canyon Road toward the turn for State Route 245. Ordinarily a deliciously twisty downhill run through the towns of Pinehurst and Badger, this well-maintained mountain road loses elevation quickly through a 35-mile series of sweeping curves, each with its own impressive view of the great San Joaquin Valley.

This cold morning, though, the air temperature was just above freezing, the mist had turned to fog and the fog was turning to rain. We proceeded slowly, some of us maybe just a little smug that we had brought proper rain gear.

Old Stage Saloon at Fountain Springs
The Old Stage Saloon at Fountain Springs, said to have been founded in 1858, is famous for its fine food and strong cocktails. Our bad luck it was closed the afternoon we passed.

The unfriendly weather left us briefly as we paralleled State Route 99, but returned as we picked up Old Stage Road and climbed through Glennville and onto State Route 155 into Alta Sierra. Through a pleasant period of weak sunshine, I was able again to make the most of the KTM, carving corners as the two-lane rural roads took us up from farmland to grazing land to pine groves.

Soon the freezing rain had reduced visibility to a few bike lengths. We crawled over the summit and were still chattering in our helmets when we stopped again at Cheryl’s Diner in Kernville, this time to warm up with hot drinks.

We still had the southbound Caliente Bodfish Road to enjoy, and our reverse route through Tehachapi and Lake Elizabeth. But we’d already gotten more than we came for. Good scenery? Curves to carve? Cool temperatures? Check, check, check. Mission accomplished!

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Connecting Small Towns in Northeast Iowa

FB & Company, a bar in Waubeek
Looking back across the river at FB & Company, a bar in Waubeek. Housed in a century-old Stone City building, the place is very rustic but does have food, even a good breakfast. Photos by the author.

Iowa is not known as a motorcycling destination, but rather a through state. Motorcyclists travel mostly on the four-lane roads thinking that’s all there is to see, and that includes many of those who live in Iowa. Even our maps don’t make it look inviting, since the squiggly lines aren’t all that squiggly. So here are some roads I enjoy traveling that will be a treat for any motorcyclists looking for lightly traveled, interesting roads and a highly adaptable route.

Iowa motorcycle ride
Map of the route taken, by Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.

I start at the intersection of State Highway 13 and U.S. Route 151 outside Cedar Rapids only because I live near there. The ride starts on what I call transit roads, or primarily straight roads. At County Road E34 head east toward the small town of Whittier, past a few houses, a Friends meeting house and a small store, then turn north. I should note that terms like village and hamlet are not common in Iowa, so even a few houses grouped together is called a town. At Waubeek you’ll cross the Wapsipinicon River, where an old mill has been turned into a rustic bar. You’re now on Boy Scouts Road, a former gravel road paved in the chip and dip manner. It’s narrow, the pavement is uneven but not rough and it has some tight corners. It’s a short stretch to savor before returning to more traditional Iowa-style main roads.

curvy road sign
Now this is a sign we like to see! The 25 mph suggested speed on Boy Scouts Road is for grain wagons, not motorcycles. Be aware of furry forest creatures though!

When Boy Scouts Road ends, turn east onto County Road E16 and enjoy some smooth pavement with nice open curves. At a four-way stop, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, turn north on County Road X20. This is a nice paved road off the beaten path where you can enjoy the scenery with a few curves thrown in to keep you from getting white line fever (remember that!).

Boy Scouts Road Iowa
Boy Scouts Road. If only this sign was true!

Next take the road toward Hopkinton, where you will most likely encounter horses and buggies, since there is an Amish population that runs several inviting country stores along the route. The road to Hopkinton, County Road D47, starts straight but then gets nice and curvy with a tight “S” curve that can catch out the unaware. At Hopkinton, there’s a college that used to be active — OK, it was in business about 100 years ago and today you can do a ghost hunt/sleepover if that’s your thing. Heading north you’ll find it is mostly smooth and mostly straight with a few open curves. It is, however, somewhat rough between Hopkinton and Delhi, which makes for a nice stop with available fuel and a couple of good restaurants located on the small-town main street.

Iowa landscape
Heading north on County Road C7X: not your stereotypical cornfield view of Iowa.

You’ll run into State Highway 3 at a T intersection where you’ll head left, then in a few short miles you will turn right onto County Road C7X. Turn right before the first big grain storage facility — you can’t miss the bright metal bins.

The road is smooth and has plenty of curves with gentle elevation changes. As you look around you’ll see what I call “vista views” across the hills that make up this corner of Iowa. You’ll pick up County Road X3C at what’s left of Elkport. A flood devastated the community some years ago; they did, however, make the best of the situation and created a green space camping facility.

Elkport Iowa
Looking south at what is left of Elkport. It does have a camping area with facilities — as long as you don’t mind outhouses.

The curves keep coming along with the views and smooth pavement until you intersect with Highway 13, yes, the same highway I started on. Head south toward an Iowa Welcome Center that has information, a small “Iowa Made” shop and displays of Iowa wildlife that make for a relaxing stop. There are plenty of opportunities to get food or gas along the way, but this stop makes for a quiet interlude. Leave the welcome center heading south looking for a right turn, County Road C24, heading west to Volga — any guesses as to what group settled here?

BMW R 1200 RT
Taking a break at the Iowa Welcome Center, a relaxing stop with an opportunity to stretch your legs.

This road twists and turns, rises and falls, with a few blind turns thrown in as well. At Volga there’s a park that offers camping as well as access to the Volga River for kayaking. This area has become a destination for both leisurely kayakers as well as whitewater kayaking. Volga, like most of the other towns on the route, has a convenient city park perfect for a picnic.

Iowa farm road
A view along County Road C24. I had the experience of seeing a bald eagle on the side of the road that lifted off and flew at my eye level for a second or two before taking to the skies.

Follow the signs to Wadena and you’ll be on a trip back through time to what many people think of when they think of rural Iowa. In Wadena you can stop at a locker (think no-frills meat market) and pick up travel food like meat sticks and jerky, or if you have a cooler, steaks to take home. You’ll also see an old hotel turned into a private residence that still has the name Wadena stenciled on the windows, so that when you got off the train a hundred years ago you knew where you were. Been wondering why so many very small towns exist along this route? One word: railroad. These towns owe their existence to having access to a rail line when rail was the only reliable transportation and communication line in Iowa. In Clermont you’ll see an old depot that a local group is trying to save.

Clermont Iowa depot
The author and his bike in front of the depot at Clermont. A local group is raising money to preserve the historic building. When I was there they were doing some tuck pointing to help it get through the coming winter.

When you reach Clermont, also known as “Brick City,” you can’t miss the turn of the century architecture throughout the town. Clermont was the home of the 13th governor of Iowa and has a statue and museum to prove it. Wadena and Clermont are still active and offer hospitality in the form of small-town restaurants and bars. These are not tourist towns, and they do cater to hunters in the fall, yet you’ll not feel out of place.

Grove Creek Cemetery Iowa
Many “wrought iron” cemeteries are along the route; where you see these old wrought iron signs you know a town was once there too. These old cemeteries mark just how much Iowa has changed through the years.

My ride doesn’t end at Clermont. You can reverse it (I like the way the curves string together heading north to south better then south to north), meander back on the other good roads in the area, explore the many graveled roads along the way if you’re so inclined or pick a new destination. The best time to ride the route is any time you can — I’ve ridden it four times already this year and plan on riding it at least one more time, so look for the guy on a BMW RT wearing high-viz gear: that most likely will be me!

Source: RiderMagazine.com

17th Annual Blue Ridge Gatherings

Blue Ridge Parkway
The gently curving Blue Ridge Parkway helped us get to the Blue Ridge Gathering — and lots of twisty mountain roads that aren’t so well known. Photos by the author.

The Blue Ridge Gathering is an annual meeting of sport-touring riders in western North Carolina, one of the best regions in the U.S. for motorcycling. In October 2018, riders came from as far as Newfoundland to ride some amazing mountain roads.

“I dug through the archives and the first records are from 2002, so this must be the 17th annual Blue Ridge Gathering,” said Phil Derryberry of Nashville, Tennessee, one of the event’s founders. “The original goal was to bring together Honda ST riders in these mountains, but it’s simply become a gathering of people who like to ride here. It’s not about what you ride, just that you do ride.”

Newfoundland license plate
Just how good are the roads in these parts? Good enough that Jim G. Gow rode from York Harbour, Newfoundland — 2,400 miles one-way — just to get here.

Phil is a self-described 7th generation Tennessee hillbilly. “The first Derryberrys were Adam and Eve — yes, really,” he smiled. “They settled there before Tennessee was a state. Both of my grandfathers were moonshiners and bootleggers at one point in their lives.” Though he’s a software developer and highly accomplished pianist, Phil embraces his hillbilly roots. Part of that, he told me, is knowing the best mountain roads, and he says they’re in these parts.

“People come to the Blue Ridge Gathering with a goal of riding some great roads they’ve never seen before,” he explained by a blazing campfire. “I study maps and explore, so it changes every year. If you’re not from around here, you’re not likely to find the roads that I found.” 

Moonshine Creek Campground in Balsam, North Carolina
Moonshine Creek Campground in Balsam, North Carolina, is ideally situated for easy access to some of the region’s best twisty mountain roads.

I can attest to Phil’s talent finding roads. These aren’t the ones you’ve heard of, like the gently curving Blue Ridge Parkway or the 11-mile stretch of U.S. Route 129 known as the Tail of the Dragon (which crosses into Tennessee). Such roads are fun, but they’re also tourist attractions that get crowded. Phil finds roads that most people wouldn’t, ones with unexciting monikers like Lower Flat Creek Road and Macedonia Church Road. They are challenging, technical and demand each rider’s full attention. 

When riding these roads in a group, it helps to have a simple approach that keeps the group united while everyone rides their own ride. Phil is a proponent of Drop and Sweep. “Some guys who come to the Blue Ridge Gathering have skills close to pro racers and some are relative newbies,” Phil explained. “If you ride to the lowest common denominator, it’s not good for everyone. With Drop and Sweep, you ride your own ride at your own speed, but the group remains a group, just spread out. It’s a safer way to organize a group ride because it relieves dynamics based on skill level. I learned it while I was touring in England and it worked so well I started to use it here.” (To learn more about Drop and Sweep, visit unclephil.us/groupride.htm.) 

touring motorcycle riders
After breakfast, people joining the group ride review the simple rules for Drop and Sweep.
touring motorcycle riders
To learn more about Drop and Sweep, visit unclephil.us.

After riding several of Phil’s roads, I sat down at a coffee shop in Marshall, North Carolina, and asked Blue Ridge Gathering riders about their experiences. “All of us are at least a day’s ride from this area and we think nothing of riding here to ride these roads,” said Ashley Horn, a Honda ST1300 rider from Jacksonville, Florida. “I came here in my pre-motorcycle years for hiking and wished I had a motorcycle. My wife then was a big ‘no motorcycles’ person, so I got a new wife — and a motorcycle. This is my happy place.”

“I first came up here in my car to visit friends,” said Dave Doolin, also of Jacksonville, who came on a Honda Gold Wing. “They didn’t ride and when I was up here in their truck and saw the roads, I was fit to be tied without a motorcycle to ride. Ever since, I come on a motorcycle. This region has become an important part of my life.”

motorcycle camping
Honda ST1300s are still the most commonly seen bikes at the Blue Ridge Gathering, but all riders and bikes are welcome.
motorcycle camping
The Blue Ridge Gathering has always been primarily a camping event.

Wayne Efthyvoulou, a long-time sportbike rider from Easthampton, New Jersey, was on his first long tour aboard a purpose-designed sport tourer, his newly acquired Honda ST1300. He was succinct: “It’s great here.” 

The Blue Ridge Gathering is not a commercial event so riders only pay for a campsite or cabin, meals and gas. (Fair warning: you’ll eat up tires faster than usual!) “What makes the Blue Ridge Gathering different is we take roads that aren’t on anybody’s radar,” said Phil. “Most don’t make the ‘Tour North Carolina’ maps. They’re steep, twisty, challenging mountain roads unique to this part of the U.S. I’d love for people who come to have a great safe ride, enjoy some scenery, talk around a campfire after dark and leave feeling like they learned something. And that’s about it.”

For more information, visit blueridgegathering.com.

Macedonia Church Road (State Route 1326) in Rosman, North Carolina
Steve Efthyvoulou and his son Wayne, both from New Jersey, rest along wonderfully winding Macedonia Church Road (State Route 1326) in Rosman, North Carolina.
Macedonia Church Road
Speaking of wonderfully winding Macedonia Church Road…here it is.

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Big Water: Exploring Southern Indiana’s Chunk of the Ohio River Valley

V-Strom Ohio River
The Strom has been a fantastic partner over the years and carried me to some great vantage points. This one at Aurora, Indiana, looking upstream on the Ohio ranks high on the list. Photos by the author.

Despite being a lifelong Hoosier, I hadn’t spent much time riding in the southern part of Indiana. This year would be different — I had a family reunion coming up in Bloomington, only four hours away from home in Valparaiso. I also had some rare extra days off from my mill job, so I thought I’d meander my way there instead of taking the direct route. Using secondary roads exclusively crossed my mind, but I didn’t have that much time.

Indiana motorcycle ride map
A map of the route taken. By Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.

I headed east on U.S. Route 30, then south on U.S. Routes 35 and 31. Thankfully, the rains that plagued us for weeks had finally stopped. Indiana is squarely in the Corn Belt, but the crop in our part of the state was pretty much toast due to the wet conditions. This was painfully obvious mile after mile, as stunted seedlings were barely at the ankle. The old saying is “knee high by the Fourth of July,” but with modern hybrids, most years the stalks are at the shoulder or better by late June.

North of Indy I jumped on State Highway 38. I’d noticed a scenic route designation on the map for State Highway 1, starting at Hagerstown, less than 20 miles from the Ohio border. The town is also just above the imaginary line that separates the state into north and south — as good a place to start as any. There was even a motorcycle-friendly eatery, Dave’s Café/Flatlanders Motorcycles. The Harley parked among the pool tables made my burger taste all the better. As poor luck had it, I’d showed up the day before their weekly bike night. Still, this was shaping up to be a good ride.

Dave's Café/Flatlanders Motorcycles
As soon as I pulled into Dave’s Café/Flatlanders Motorcycles, I knew they were serious about being bike-friendly.

The Whitewater Canal Scenic Byway offers a snapshot of 19th-century American travel: river, canal and rail. I’d heard at the Greens Fork Family Diner it was also a fine motorcycle road. The report was accurate, with smooth pavement, abundant curves and frequent elevation changes, features that riders seek out but are rare north of the dividing line — especially the smooth part. Plank roads aren’t represented, but there is a heritage railroad running between Connersville and Metamora that features a restored section of the Whitewater Canal that once stretched 76 miles, from Hagerstown to Harrison, Ohio. Construction was a major engineering feat due to the steepness of the route, requiring 56 locks and seven dams, and the costly project drove the state into bankruptcy for a time.

Whitewater Canal Scenic Byway
This rustic barn likely once overlooked a dirt road that is now the Whitewater Canal Scenic Byway. Evidence the Indiana DOT has made some progress over the years.

I’m a fan of big rivers. I enjoyed riding the Mississippi and Missouri river valleys a couple of years ago in the Show Me State. Since I was close to the Ohio, I figured I would check it out. I was particularly interested in how it compared to those two flooding-wise, as my Missouri route was often dictated by water-related closures. But the first diversion was due to construction, not flooding. Instead of Lawrenceburg, where the river enters Indiana, the detour put me a few miles downstream in Aurora, where I picked up the Ohio River Scenic Byway. The Hoosier State segment covers 302 miles and follows several Indiana State Highways, 56, 156, 62 and 66, which meld together rather seamlessly. The distance suggested a lot of curves and didn’t disappoint.

Among American waterways, the Ohio is second only to the Mississippi in volume of water discharged. It has been described as a series of strung-together reservoirs, built and operated by the Army Corps of Engineers. As such, it serves many of the same functions as other Corps projects, such as drinking water, recreation, flood control and shipping. Barge traffic was abundant. I stopped a couple of times at riverside parks to watch the towboats do their magic. A century ago, the river towns catered primarily to businesses. Now tourism is a big economic activity as well.

Harleys Indiana roads
Harleys heading for the abundant curves on the Whitewater Canal Scenic Byway.

Given the combination of good pavement, hills, curves and friendly locals, unsurprisingly there were lots of motorcycles on the byways. On one construction reroute, where it took 50 miles to go 10, two Harley riders gave chase. They weren’t dressed for a crash but pushed me hard on the straights and sweepers anyway, then I’d walk away from them in the tighter curves. We repeated the pattern several times. Fun!

I’d always wanted to visit our first Indiana state Capitol building, in Corydon. Just off the byway and easy to find, the tidy limestone structure is dwarfed by the current rendition in Indianapolis. But it was doubtless a big undertaking for the fledgling state in 1816. Unfortunately, it was closed for the day, a constant aggravation on my rides when visiting historical sites.

Corydon capitol building
This tidy limestone building was Indiana’s first Capitol in Corydon.

The afternoon was fading when I encountered another reroute. I wondered if this one really was due to flooding, as the stretch ran right along the river. Water or roadwork, I never found out, but I’d neglected to top off the Suzuki V-Strom’s tank in Jeffersonville and the blinking fuel gauge was making me nervous. I’d passed through several small settlements, but none with gas available. Luckily, the Derby General Store was still open. One of the pumps offered ethanol-free 90-octane mid-grade, rare in my corner of the state, and the Strom loved the unadulterated fuel. The attendant clued me into a shortcut that didn’t show as connecting on the map. It allowed me to see the dam at Cannelton, which the sanctioned route bypassed. I don’t use a construction avoidance feature on my GPS; folks that live in an area can generally advise the best route anyway.

Derby also carried a grim reminder of the potentially destructive power of big rivers: flood lines spanning eight decades posted on a utility pole. Like the Mississippi and Missouri, the Ohio sometimes jumps its banks despite man’s best efforts to tame it. But even with the proximity of big water and recent heavy rains, the corn crop in the area was comparatively healthy. One lush field shared space with another common Midwestern fixture, the oil pumpjack.

Ohio River
There’s lots of places to launch small craft on the Ohio River. Driftwood littering this public access site was deposited only a week or so before I arrived.

I stopped for the night in Evansville, an easy enough town to navigate considering its relatively large population. I often wish I’d been born in the southwest rather than the northwest corner of the state. The milder winters, better roads and laid-back lifestyle are big plusses. The next morning, I rode the remaining 25 miles of the Ohio River Scenic Byway to where it crosses the Wabash River into Illinois, then doubled back to Mount Vernon to begin the trek back north on State Highway 69.

I had the whole day to make it to Bloomington, so I stuck to state highways. They passed through endless farmland and the occasional small town. I prefer mom-and-pop diners, and one of the best indicators of quality food is pickup trucks in the parking lot; if the fare is substandard, the locals won’t patronize. JJ’s in Cynthiana looked promising. A man I guessed correctly to be JJ stood behind the register, hands on hips, looking me over, and asked, “What’d ya need, captain?” “How about a menu,” seemed the obvious reply. He shot back, “You sure you can read?” as he handed me one with a smirk. Then he put on a fresh pot of coffee, not so much for me, but for the lunch crowd about to arrive. Like clockwork, trucks of every description soon moved in. I hung out for a while, talking bikes, farm equipment, weather and steel mills.

Metamora Historic District alongside the Whitewater Canal
The quaint Metamora Historic District alongside the Whitewater Canal is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

ABATE of Indiana is a robust motorcycle rights organization. Twenty years ago, it purchased 400 acres in Lawrence County to host its annual fundraising party, the Boogie, which is dubbed the “Midwest’s Best Biker Fest.” The property has since been developed into a full-service off-road riding area with 60 miles of trails, campgrounds, showers and RV hookups. The Lawrence County Recreational Park is off the beaten path, but worth a visit. One day, I’d like to give those trails a try. The Indiana Motorcycle Safety Memorial is at the park’s entrance, dedicated to fallen Hoosier riders. The memorial grounds are impressive and made my detour worthwhile.

Bloomington is smack in the middle of some of the best motorcycling in Indiana. My youngest daughter once rode with me there. She said it felt like “riding through a tunnel,” as we motored under the canopy of trees that covers many of the highways. I’m not complaining, but at times the hills and curves became almost overwhelming. Once, I dropped my guard and almost overshot a tight turn. But I knew in a few hours I’d be back on straight and boring roads, with a large helping of potholes thrown in, so I enjoyed the squiggly lines while I could. Efficiency dictates that major highways cut the hills down to level the run, but rest assured there are still many miles of unmolested pavement in southern Indiana.

New York Central #6894
New York Central #6894 was built by the American Locomotive Company in 1912. Currently non-functioning, the Whitewater Valley Railroad hopes to perform at least a cosmetic restoration.

U.S. Route 231 was my chosen route home, avoiding the interstate. The dry and beautiful Saturday night brought out bikes by the score. In Crawfordsville, a chapter of the Iron Order with dozens of rumbling steeds had gathered for a run. I waved and they waved back. We were all on V-twins, albeit built for different styles of riding, but it didn’t matter. At West Lafayette, I once again overruled the Garmin’s choice of I-65 and picked up State Highway 43, then U.S. Route 421 for the last 70 miles. It’s weird, but after all the curves and hills, the arrow-straight run that I’ve made many times was strangely satisfying.

The Ohio River Valley is now on my list of favorite places. The byway hugs the river for many miles and I’m glad I ran the Indiana section almost beginning to end. I only wish I could have spent more than a day taking it in. Two or three would’ve been better, as there’s much to do and see. I’m always searching for the perfect ride. Turns out one of the best has been in my backyard all along. 

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Snake Loops: Sport Touring East of the Hudson

Above the Amenia Hairpin, this lay-by looks over the New York landscape east of the Hudson River.

Snakes employ astonishing methods of locomotion. Legs? Who needs ’em! Using muscles and scales, snakes hug the landscape as they wind along their way. Roads can be like that, with narrow, winding runs of asphalt that hug each rise and bend.

Snaking asphalt brings joy to this motorcycle rider, and east of the Hudson River there’s a region with plenty of it. This area of small towns, farms and woodlands straddles New York’s border with Connecticut and Massachusetts. The rolling landscape means the roads rarely go straight, and with some route planning it’s easy to avoid population centers. Connecting roads with snake-like curves is the inspiration for this ride.

Roughly in the center of this region is the western Massachusetts town of Great Barrington. It has a picturesque, old-fashioned Main Street neighborhood and interesting options for eats, accommodations and entertainment, so it’s a good base of operations for two routes that begin and end there.

Map of the route taken, by Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.

My friend Andrew joins me and we’re up early to take photographs in the best morning light. Andrew points out the Mahaiwe Performing Arts Center on Castle Street. Berkshire County, the westernmost part of Massachusetts, is renowned as an arts region, and this historic venue has been a performance site since 1905. One marquee is lit up and the neon calls to be captured.

Mahaiwe (“muh-HAY-we”) Theater on Castle Street in Great Barrington opened in 1905 as a vaudeville house and has presented arts programming continually ever since. A major renovation was completed in 2005.

On Main Street, at the corner of Taconic Avenue, the sun shines brightly on St. James Place. It was built as an Episcopal church in 1857 and by the late 20th century it had fallen into disrepair. But it was renovated and, in 2017, reopened as an arts center with offices and performance spaces.

Built in 1857 as St. James Episcopal Church, the restored St. James Place is now home to several Berkshire arts organizations.

Just south of downtown, we bear right onto Massachusetts State Route 23/41. After a quarter-mile on the left, in a green space next to Silver Street, we find the Newsboy Statue. In 1895, William L. Brown, who was a town resident and part owner of the original New York Daily News, presented it to the people of Great Barrington. I was a paperboy, so it feels right to stop and pay my respects.

The Newsboy Statue pays homage to young entrepreneurs (your humble scribe among them) who spread the news.

When 23 goes right, we stay left on 41 then make a quick right onto Mount Washington Road. It can be hard to find the signs that point the way to Bash Bish Falls State Park, but it’s worth the effort. Turn right onto Cross Road, right onto West Street and left onto Falls Road to the park. Bash Bish Falls is the highest single-drop waterfall in Massachusetts and a short walk from the parking area.

Bash Bish Falls is the highest single-drop waterfall in Massachusetts.

Continuing west lands us in New York, the first of many “border crossings” we’ll be making. We turn left at New York State Route 22, which will make several short appearances throughout our route, then start looking for Under Mountain Road. At U.S. Route 44, we go right and when we reach McGhee Hill Road, begin to meander through sparsely populated areas along serpentine roads.

We curve around Hunns Lake, then in Bangall turn hard left onto Bangall-Amenia Road. A ways on we merge back onto U.S. 44 and pull into the scenic overlook to survey the landscape from a standstill. Just below the overlook — and waiting when we hop back on the bikes — is the Amenia Hairpin, a delightful and downward sloping left curve. Farther along, Halls Corners Road and Chestnut Ridge Road keep us smiling.

Sometimes, snake roads appear to have their own scales.

By the Union Vale Fire House, a right on Clove Road has us winding south and a bit west. U.S. Route 9 eases us to Philipstown, then we turn left onto State Route 301 through Fahnestock State Park. The area ahead is known to local curve-loving riders, and we spot several enjoying it with a mechanical symphony from their bikes’ exhaust.

Back underway we’re on Gipsy Trail Road and County Road 41 to Farmers Mills. Haviland Hollow Road crosses into Connecticut. We wrap around Squantz Pond State Park and back into New York, then roll north through Pawling and Wingdale. At Dog Tail Corners Road we wag left and soon we’re in Connecticut again, crossing Bulls Bridge over the Housatonic River and turning north onto a gently winding stretch of U.S. Route 7 that parallels the river. The quaint village of Kent is a good place for a break, but we make our stop just beyond at Kent Falls State Park to see another great waterfall.

A few miles north is Lime Rock, home to the Lime Rock Park racing circuit. Actor and philanthropist Paul Newman spent a lot of time here, shunning the spotlight, making friends and honing skills that would lead him to the Sports Car Club of America national title (as an amateur) in 1976 and a second place finish with his team at the 24 Hours of Le Mans in 1979. Lime Rock Road goes right past the track, which is quiet today.

Old movie houses like Quirino’s Crandell Theater in Chatham, New York, offer an alternative to the Cineplex.

A right on Connecticut State Route 41 begins the return stretch north into Massachusetts and we arrive back in Great Barrington, leaving 221 snaking miles behind us. I notice that the First Congregational Church, which was in shadow this morning, is now basking in afternoon sun. Built in 1883 from locally-sourced limestone, it’s listed in the U.S. National Register of Historic Places.

Unlike early this morning, Great Barrington’s old-fashioned Main Street neighborhood is bustling now. There are interesting places to eat, shop, explore and spend the night. U.S. Route 7 just north of downtown resembles Anytown, USA, with additional options for accommodations, restaurants and stores, plus a microbrewery.

On such a calm, fair morning, we’re surprised by the absence of pilots at Koladza Airport in Great Barrington.

It’s another early start for day two and another easy roll down Main Street to Massachusetts State Route 23, then right onto State Route 71 and into New York before shooting briefly south onto New York State Route 22 and turning right onto County Road 21. In much of New York, numbered county roads are the roads less traveled, and in this region they embrace the rolling hills and keep me smiling. Sight distances are typically short and forest critters could emerge from anywhere, so I dial up my Spidey senses.

We like that creative use of an inverted curve sign, but wish it was pointing to breakfast.

Crow Hill Road and State Route 203 lead us to Chatham and another still-sleeping downtown. There’s no place open for breakfast yet so we continue to Old Chatham, but the Country Store hasn’t opened either.

My bike’s long shadow reveals how early it is…still too early for breakfast!

County Road 13 snakes through East Nassau and Stephentown, then we curl back west on County Road 16 toward Nassau. A right on Rabie Road curves toward West Sand Lake, then Route 351 goes to Poestenkill and Plank Road goes to Berlin. At State Route 22 we turn north to Petersburg then slither east up Taconic Trail (State Route 2). At the top of the ridge we cross into Massachusetts and wind back down to Williamstown.

Massachusetts State Route 2 cuts through the picturesque campus of Williams College. In front of the Museum of Art, we stop to look at several sets of large, disembodied eyes, sculpted in bronze. I ride my bike onto the sidewalk to set up a photo, and even though no one is around I get the feeling I’m being watched.

“Eyes” by Louise Bourgeios, standing watch next to Goodrich Hall at Williams College.

A short ways on, we turn right onto Luce Road toward Notch Road and the Scenic Byway to the summit of Mount Greylock. On a map, this narrow, 7-mile, seasonal jewel resembles a sidewinder, with successive climbing hairpins. We keep up the revs and power through, while staying alert for trail hikers crossing the road.

From a left at the T, Summit Road rises to the highest point in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts (3,491 feet). Reaching skyward another 92 feet is the Massachusetts Veterans War Memorial, a lighted beacon atop a granite tower, which was completed in 1932 and rededicated in 2017 after a two-year renovation. On a clear day we’d see nearly 100 miles over western Massachusetts, southern Vermont and eastern New York, but today we’re in the clouds.

The Massachusetts Veterans War Memorial rises 92 feet above the summit of Mount Greylock, the highest point in the Commonwealth (3,491 feet).

Also near the summit is Bascom Lodge, built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps. Out front I talk with a young couple who are “thru-hikers,” completing all 2,190 miles of the Appalachian Trail, which runs through here. They started in Georgia a few months ago and have a few more weeks to reach the end in Maine. What’s their hike been like so far? “It’s sure a good way to get to know someone,” the young man replies, eliciting a steely gaze and raised eyebrows from his companion.

Back down the mountain, Rockwell Road rewards us with more twisties and hairpins. At the bottom, a right on U.S. 7 and a sharp left on State Route 43 soon has us back into New York and more curvy county roads through Stephentown, East Chatham and Austerlitz. A short run north on New York State Route 22 and then east on State Route 102 returns us to Massachusetts.

Andrew circles (over and over) before Tracy Memorial Village Hall (c. 1913) in Chatham, New York.

Rolling through the village of Stockbridge seems to transport us into a Norman Rockwell painting, and there’s a reason for that. Norman Rockwell lived here, and his experience inspired his iconic scenes of 20th century American life. Fans of his work can go one mile south on Massachusetts State Route 183 to the Norman Rockwell Museum.

State Route 102 continues along the Housatonic River toward Lee and U.S. Route 20, where most vehicles (thankfully) turn into the outlet mall. We continue onto the best stretch of U.S. 20 in Massachusetts, Jacob’s Ladder Trail. The alternating downhill curves going into Chester are downright danceable on a motorcycle, and mellower curves continue all the way to Russell. There, a right on Blandford Stage Road takes the less traveled leg over to State Route 23.

Turning west, Route 23 twists and curls back to Great Barrington, all the way hugging asphalt undulations in that most enjoyable manner: like a snake.

West Branch Reservoir Causeway in Carmel, New York, is the southernmost point in our southern loop.

Source: RiderMagazine.com

A Ride Through New Jersey’s Northwest Counties

Kawasaki Voyager Sussex County New Jersey
My Kawasaki Voyager reflects on the beauty of rolling, serpentine Route 617 that meanders through parts of Sussex County. Photos by the author.

Although some view New Jersey as home to just oil refineries, highways and urban/suburban sprawl devoid of good motorcycling opportunities, nothing could be further from the truth. New Jersey has counties with miles of backcountry roads to explore. Two of the best are Sussex and Warren in the Skylands Region, where country roads serpentine and roll past farmlands, forests and small towns, and through thousands of acres of state parkland, making for a memorable and scenic favorite ride.

New Jersey motorcycle ride map
A map of the route taken, by Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.

I began my tour in West Milford at the base of Bearfort Mountain. My 1,700cc Kawasaki Voyager comfortably climbed the snaking Warwick Turnpike into the mountains of Abram S. Hewitt State Forest, passing the shimmering waters of Upper Greenwood Lake and the 34,350-acre Wawayanda State Park, which offers swimming, boating, hiking and picnicking opportunities.

1800s-era buckboard
An 1800s-era buckboard complements a lush field on Route 617.

After Wawayanda, you cross into New York for a few miles but as my friend, Too Cool Drew, always says, “Just looks like more of Jersey to me.” For a nice view, make a left at the Warwick Conference Center sign onto Hoyt Road and stop at the parking lot of the Mulder Chapel. Mountains and farms spread out like a colorful quilt. From there, continue on Hoyt Road to Route 94 south and back into New Jersey.

Frankford Plain Methodist Church of Augusta
The Frankford Plain Methodist Church of Augusta. The congregation was founded more than 300 years ago. This, their fourth church building, was built in 1860 and renovated several times.

Sailing through Vernon Valley on the hilly curves of Route 94, ringed by mountains and embraced by farmland, is one nice ride. Heaven Hill Farm offers multiple farm experiences, plus amusement park rides during fall weekends. At Vernon Crossing Road/Route 644, I turned right and then connected with Route 517 north, continuing my scenic exploration of Vernon Valley.

Heaven Hill Farm on Route 97 in Vernon
Signs advertise all the fun that can be had at the Heaven Hill Farm on Route 97 in Vernon.

At the Pochuck Valley Farm Market (a great place for a respite, snack or lunch), I headed south on Route 565, a rollicking road where I was tempted to “just roll that power on” (Bob Seger), but instead enjoyed the scenery at a cruising pace. Riding along the boundary of the Wallkill River National Wildlife Refuge, there are sweeping views of mountains and farms.

Typical stone block house in Hope, circa late 1700s.
Typical stone block house in Hope, circa late 1700s.

Route 628, another twisty road, leads west to Route 519 south, which weaves and rolls through Sussex and Warren counties. By this time, these beautiful roads had already filled me with contentment. I was in nirvana riding the countryside with my Voyager rumbling in my ears, the cool, fresh fall air caressing my lungs and the sun washing my face with warmth.

Horses on a farm on Route 519
Horses on a farm on Route 519 stare down the observer as if to say, “Don’t mess with New Jersey.”

Stopping briefly at Space Farms Zoo & Museum, I viewed the bison herd from a side road. Space Farms also has more than 500 animals including tigers, bears, leopards and monkeys, among others. What might be of most interest to riders, however, is the museum of antique cars and motorcycles.

From here it was a straight run on Route 519 to Hope, established in 1769 as a planned community by German Moravians. Many of the original stone buildings still stand today, as does the Inn at Millrace Pond (my lunch stop), a former gristmill built in 1769. The entire town was listed in the State and National Registers of Historic Places in 1973.

Inn at Millrace Pond in Hope
The restaurant entrance at the Inn at Millrace Pond in Hope.

After lunch, I did a walkabout and imagined what it must have been like living here in the 1700s. Mounting my steel steed, I galloped north on Route 521, another premier road that weaves through Sussex and Warren counties. Recently repaved, it makes for a smooth ride. I stopped in Blairstown for gas and had a coffee at the famous Blairstown Diner, which appeared along with other sites in and around Blairstown in the 1980 “Friday the 13th” film starring Kevin Bacon.

High Point State Park
Two riders mounting up and getting ready to roll after visiting High Point State Park.

Route 617 in Stillwater branches off Route 521, offering a more rustic ride before reconnecting with it. Also, recently repaved, 617 leads into the high country sooner, with views of the rocky cliffs of the Kittatinny Mountains as it serpentines beneath them. Route 521 joins U.S. Route 206 north, leading to a bumpy ride through Stokes State Forest to Sunrise Mountain and High Point State Park, a combined 31,504 acres of parkland. If you enjoy motorcycle camping, both parks have campsites, and Stokes also rents cabins and lean-tos. Several overlooks bless this route, and watch for wildlife – the parks abound with deer, hawks, bears and coyotes.

Kawasaki Voyager Sussex County New Jersey
The narrow and bumpy Sunrise Mountain Road at Western Overlook points north toward High Point State Park.

Sunrise Mountain gives an eagle-eye view looking east along the route traversed earlier on Route 519. However, the most encompassing panorama on the entire ride is from High Point Monument. The monument obelisk rises 220 feet into the heavens and was built to honor veterans. Even from the base, a three-state mountainous view of New Jersey, Pennsylvania and New York rolls across the horizon like ocean waves.

High Point Monument
The 220-foot High Point Monument, built in 1930, honors all war veterans. Whether from its base or from the top of the monument, a panorama of the forests, mountains and farmlands of New Jersey, New York and Pennsylvania unfolds before your eyes.

With the day growing late, I mounted my Voyager and headed home on Route 23 to Route 94. Images of all the great roads, farms, mountains and country churches flickered in my brain like an old time movie. And I was already looking forward to exploring New Jersey’s northwest counties once again.

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Riding 60 Paved Colorado Passes in Nine Days

Guanella Pass Colorado
Our goal was to cross every paved pass in the state in a single ride—a nine-day, 3,500-mile adventure taking us over many of our favorite roads but introducing others we’d previously missed, like tall and lovely Guanella Pass above Georgetown (left). Twenty-seven of Colorado’s paved mountain passes are 10,000 feet or higher. Photos by the author.

Mountain passes are the ultimate expression of motorcycling, where winding roads and magnificent vistas merge to create the supreme riding experience. For me, the legendary passes of Colorado are the crown jewels of my life on two wheels.

Over the years I’ve dreamed about riding all of Colorado’s passes in a single trip. With summer approaching and a new motorcycle in the garage, I casually suggested the idea to a friend over lunch one day. The next morning I received an email from Bruce listing almost every paved pass in Colorado, including elevation, location and road surface. A day later there was a route stitching them all together. Now we had a plan – in nine days we would ride every paved pass, saddle, divide and high point in Colorado, a total of 59 as listed by DeLorme, and we would add one more on the fly.

Riding Colorado Passes
A map of the route, by Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.

We met at daybreak on Day One, our rides a contrast of style, substance and technology. I rode my brand-new pearl white 2018 Honda Gold Wing Tour with DCT. Bruce piloted his sensibly accessorized and beautifully maintained 2000 Harley-Davidson Deuce. He took the lead and I followed the rumble of his Twin Cam 88 engine.

Colorful Colorado sign
Welcome to Colorado!

We made our grand entrance to Colorado atop Raton Pass and stopped for quick photos to document the event; a process we would repeat 59 more times. This wasn’t the lush green Colorado of previous years. Meadows were yellow, forests were dry, streams and lakes were nearly empty and the usual deep snowpack was missing. Looping west and north through the San Isabel Mountains, we bagged four more passes before stopping for the night in the tiny town of Westcliffe.

What’s the difference between a pass, a high point, a saddle and a divide? I don’t know, but Bruce insisted they all be covered lest we be accused of being slackers. So Day Two we found ourselves battling urban traffic around Colorado Springs to reach the completely unremarkable Palmer Divide and Monument Hill. That afternoon we were bogged down in the foothills of Denver heading for Floyd Hill. But in between were five high passes that brought the day’s total to eight by the time we found our motel in Idaho Springs.

Colorado wildfire
At least four wildfires burned as we crisscrossed the state, creating distant plumes, smoky valleys and up-close firefighting.

Bruce wisely insisted we make motel reservations for each night of our trip. Tourists fill Colorado every summer and many of our motels were full. The only fault in our planning was the daily mileage. Three hundred and fifty miles or so sounds quite doable, but the slow pace of mountain pass roads and tourist traffic expanded our saddle time to as much as 11 hours or more.

The highest passes are narrow threads of twisting asphalt that take you above the tree line to alpine tundra and mid-summer snow banks, with breathtaking views in every direction. Lower passes are sometimes traveled by school buses and lined with homes and businesses. Major passes are celebrated with familiar brown-and-tan Forest Service signs or green-and-white DOT signs, but lesser passes, saddles and divides are seldom marked and sometimes hard to identify.

Slumgullion Pass Colorado
Mountain pine beetles have decimated the once thick forest atop spectacular Slumgullion Pass. Four million acres of trees have been destroyed by the insect epidemic.
Colorado passes
Some passes are marked with simple green-and-white signs…
Tennessee Pass Colorado
…others with large, proud USFS signs.

Colorado’s passes exist all over the state’s western half, requiring a long, circuitous and sometimes repetitive route of almost 3,500 miles to cross them all. Usually they could be linked but sometimes the most efficient route was up and back, bagging a pass then retracing the road down. This is how we covered the Front Range passes of Golden Gate Canyon and Wondervu Hill as we worked our way north toward Estes Park on Day Three.

From Trail Ridge Road (U.S. Route 34) in Rocky Mountain National Park (the highest road of our trip: 12,183 feet), Cameron Pass is only about 10 miles to the north as the crow flies. But the Never Summer Wilderness Area and some of the highest peaks in the Rockies stand in the way. So it was south to Granby, north to Walden, then south again to the pass, backtracking to Walden and west to Steamboat Springs. A long day to be sure but 11 passes in our pockets to show for it.

Rio Grande headwaters Colorado
The Rio Grande River begins its long journey to the Gulf of Mexico in these head-waters above South Fork.

Day Four took us to Granby for the second time, south to Winter Park, across Berthoud Pass and back into the smoke-filled I-70 corridor. At least four wildfires were burning in Colorado and smoke was choking valleys across the state. The largest of them, known as the 416 Fire, was burning near Durango, had closed U.S. 550, the famed Million Dollar Highway, and threatened access to at least three passes on our list. We paid close attention to news reports each night and hoped the road would be open by week’s end.

At Georgetown we did an up-and-back to reach lovely Guanella Pass, then looped above the Eisenhower Tunnel to cross spectacular Loveland Pass. As we descended into Dillon we entered a plume of smoke and could see fire burning right above the town. Helicopters flew low over our heads, dropping water from Dillon Reservoir onto the mountainside right in front of us. Later we bagged our only dirt-road pass, Squaw Pass, when we accidently overshot Juniper Pass. South to Buena Vista and back up to Leadville gave us nine passes that day.

Loveland Pass
Colorado’s highest passes cross alpine tundra well above the tree line, where heated clothing is welcome even in summer.
Squaw Pass Colorado
Bruce’s 2000 Harley-Davidson Deuce and my 2018 Honda Gold Wing Tour peacefully coexist atop Squaw Pass, the only dirt-road pass in our adventure.
Juniper Pass Colorado
From Juniper Pass, the road snakes down toward the smoke-filled I-70 corridor.

Leadville sits more than 10,000 feet above sea level and it was just 38 degrees when we left to gather the first three passes of Day Five. We were riding the Top of the Rockies Scenic Byway and the Gold Wing’s heated grips and seat sure felt good. Being from higher country, Bruce and I aren’t bothered by the elevation but, apparently, many others are. Convenience stores and hotel lobbies sell cans of oxygen to combat altitude sickness.

At 12,095 feet, iconic Independence Pass was the highest on our list and a pure joy to ride. In Hotchkiss we enjoyed the best burgers of the trip at a pleasant little place along State Route 133 called 133 BRGR. We crossed cool, green Grand Mesa and then plunged into the 103-degree heat of Grand Junction for a 65-degree contrast and seven more passes scratched off the list.

Independence Pass Colorado
Every pass we crossed became a photo op documenting the ride as well as the elevation and appearance of Colorado’s high spots. Independence Pass was the highest of them all.

Often the little-known passes offered delightful surprises. Douglas Pass was more than two hours out of our way, but it was a gorgeous early morning ride to a beautiful red rock pass. Similarly, unpretentious Unaweep Divide was hidden in a wonderfully rugged sandstone canyon. We rode the breaks above the Black Canyon of the Gunnison to get Blue Mesa Summit then skirted Blue Mesa Reservoir and dodged a thunderstorm on our way to Gunnison, the last two passes of the day before our hotel in Salida. Another seven passes, check.

We did another up-and-back to Monarch Pass then rode south toward the rugged San Juan Mountains. As we approached Durango, we could see smoke pouring off the mountains to the north. Evidence of the firefighting effort was all around, smoke hung in the air and hundreds of “Thank You Firefighters” signs covered buildings and fences. Our desk clerk was a wealth of fire information including news that U.S. 550 was now open and could be traversed in police-escorted caravans.

Day Eight dawned with steady rain – an answered prayer for everyone in the area. Now it was the rain, not fire, that concerned us. We headed west to cross the imperceptible Gypsum Gap into Disappointment Valley. Flat and barren, this is not the Colorado pictured in tourist brochures. The rain increased as we rode back toward the mountains, so at Telluride we hunkered down in a convenience store to reevaluate our plan. Ouray, Silverton and the high passes of the Million Dollar Highway would most certainly mean more rain, and the day was more than half gone. For a moment, we actually considered skipping the passes in favor of drier riding. I suggested we cover nearby Lizard Head Pass then talk about it some more.

The weather to the pass was atrocious and an hour later we were back at the same convenience store. As we gassed up, a ray of sunlight lifted our spirits and we boldly headed for Ouray and the Million Dollar Highway. Light rain was falling as we snagged Red Mountain Pass and dropped into Silverton. With the national forest closed, the highway closed and the famed steam railroad closed, the normally bustling tourist town was virtually deserted. The headline in the local newspaper proclaimed, “Silverton Under Siege!”

Lizard Head Pass
The ride up Lizard Head Pass was cold and wet…
Wolf Creek Pass Colorado
…while storied Wolf Creek Pass was covered with dead trees.

We pressed on and checked off Molas Pass and Coal Bank Pass. About 30 miles north of Durango a state trooper led us through the burn area – about 15 miles of blackened forest reaching right to the highway’s edge. The 416 Fire had consumed some 40 square miles of forest and disrupted the entire economy of the area. Hopefully the rains would give firefighters the upper hand.

Our last night on the road was in Chama, New Mexico, with the last two passes on our list just a quick dash back into Colorado the next morning. But Colorado didn’t give them up easily. The 45-mile ride up and over the passes went from low clouds to dense fog to cold, hard rain that just wouldn’t stop.

At Cumbres Pass we took our usual quick photos but, at La Manga, we hauled out the selfie stick to get a double thumbs-up to celebrate our final pass. We’d done it! Sixty passes and a nine-day motorcycle buddy trip. We still had some 300 miles to get back home, which brought our total mileage to 3,476. A maiden voyage for the new Gold Wing, another notch on the Harley’s belt and an unforgettable adventure for two seasoned motorcycle riders.

La Manga Pass Colorado
With well over 3,000 miles behind us, we celebrate our final pass with a thumbs-up selfie.

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Riding a Thousand Miles of Arizona Highways

Arizona motorcycle ride
Red rocks provide the backdrop for Sedona, the New Age capital of Arizona. Photos by the author.

April in the Southwest means perfect temperatures and sunny days, riding in a mesh jacket and Kevlar-lined jeans. With a new (to me) Honda Shadow outfitted with new bags to carry my camping gear, I hit the road in early April. My intent was to make a giant circle around Phoenix and Tucson, avoiding the big cities. In bloom, in high spring, the desert and mountains of Arizona’s highways beckoned.

From Lordsburg, New Mexico, I first veered south on State Route 80. Among the yucca-studded Chihuahuan Desert landscape there’s a historical marker near Skeleton Canyon, commemorating the surrender in September 1886 of Geronimo, the last Apache chief. The road eventually led to the dusty border town of Douglas, good for an ice cream sandwich and a fuel stop, before climbing to 5,000 feet of elevation and the town of Bisbee.

Arizona motorcycle ride
The Chihuahuan Desert’s hallmark is the yucca, a standout in the rolling hills near Rodeo, at the Arizona state line.

A thriving copper, gold and silver mining town founded in the 1880s, Bisbee fell into decline by 1950. Then enterprising citizens, with the help of a huge economic development grant, turned the ghost town into a tourist attraction. Big draws are tours of the Copper Queen mine, narrow streets connected by steep staircases and shopping for antiques downtown.

I camped at Kartchner Caverns State Park, next to an underground beauty of a limestone cave, before venturing farther west. A delightful road follows the contours of prime rolling hills through the snowbird havens of Sonoita and Sahuarita. Ducking under Interstate 19, I turned north on Mission Road. Lots of bicycles and motorcycles enjoyed the sparsely trafficked road, which led in a roundabout way to Mission San Xavier del Bac.

Arizona motorcycle ride
Bisbee’s Copper Queen Hotel, more than 100 years old, retains much of its former glory.

Long before any outsiders settled in southern Arizona, Father Kino founded the whitewashed mission in 1692 to benefit the local American Indian population. San Xavier Mission School, next door, has served Tohono O’odham  students from kindergarten through eighth grade for more than 150 years.

Skirting around the southwest edge of Tucson, I picked up the Ajo Highway (State Route 86) just before it entered the Tohono O’odham reservation. The scenery was of the quintessential “Arizona Highways” variety, with saguaro, cholla, organ pipe, barrel, prickly pear, ocotillo and many other species of cactus in bloom along an undulating two-lane road. On the far side of the reservation I stopped to camp in Why, literally located at the Y where State Route 86 meets State Route 85. South of the Y, I soon rode into Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. This park preserves fine examples of all the varieties of cactus common in the Sonoran Desert, along with coyotes, javelina, Gila monsters, desert tortoise, jackrabbits, rattlesnakes, hawks, roadrunners and other creatures native to the borderlands.

Arizona motorcycle ride
Mission San Xavier de Bac, a National Historic Landmark, was erected in 1797, on present day land of the Tohono O’odham Nation.

In early April the desert was already heating up. I turned around at the Mexican border and headed north to seek higher elevations. After passing through Gila Bend and crossing Interstate 10, I discovered the Sun Valley Parkway. Known locally as “the road to nowhere,” this four-lane deserted highway offers a nearly irresistible temptation to speed. It was built in the mid-1980s in anticipation of a huge real estate development that fell through. Since then bicyclists and drag racers have enjoyed its 30-plus miles of pristine blacktop.

By the time I reached the palm tree-lined streets of Surprise, it was 92 degrees. What is the surprise? I wondered aloud as I ordered lunch in an air-conditioned Denny’s restaurant. According to the waitress, a woman who pioneered the settlement there was quoted as saying she would be surprised if the town ever amounted to anything. After lunch, I rode northwest through Wickenburg, then turned east up the winding curves of State Route 89 toward Prescott. Along the way I stopped to look over some steep, brush-choked country near Yarnell. A marker there honors the Granite Mountain Hotshots, who perished in a wildfire nearby in 2013.

Arizona motorcycle ride
Coyote Howls Campground attracts snowbirds who like a cheap place to park their RVs in the community of Why for the winter.

The route I chose passed through tiny towns that I had never heard of, such as Peeples Valley and Skull Valley, before arriving at the bustling city of Prescott. Its mile-high altitude, granite boulders, hidden lakes and campgrounds in the cool pines have drawn many new residents. Fortunately, the city of 40,000 supported a Honda dealer. I treated myself to a stay in a hotel, and a minor repair to my motorcycle was quickly taken care of the next morning at Star Island Motorsports. In a hurry to get back to riding the Arizona highways, I skipped touristy Whiskey Row in downtown Prescott and instead headed for a curving road leading out to the north.

State Route 89A follows a serpentine route over Mingus Mountain to the old mining town of Jerome. More motorcycles than cars were coasting around its hairpin curves and flying over the mountain pass. Built on the side of the mountain, Jerome consists of a couple of narrow streets lined with restaurants, gift shops and bars. Off to one side there’s Jerome State Historic Park, containing the remains of an active mining community of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Arizona motorcycle ride
Red Rock Crossing is an iconic landmark of Sedona.

I felt drawn to ride up to Sedona, some 28 miles northeast of Jerome, to snap some pictures of the famous red rock. A loop road winds off the main track to Red Rock Crossing; another curving road leads to Slide Rock State Park, a popular swimming hole. Prices were sky high in the New Age capital of Arizona; eventually I turned around and went back to the more down-to-earth Cottonwood for lunch. Unpretentious Crema Craft Kitchen on Main Street in Cottonwood had fresh and healthy breakfast and lunch options, with no wait and attentive service.

After camping overnight at Dead Horse Ranch State Park, I followed the Verde River upstream a few miles to visit Tuzigoot National Monument. At the site, an easy walk leads to hilltop ruins left by the Sinagua Indians. Populated between 900 and 1300 A.D., Tuzigoot’s residents created pottery as tall as they were and wove yucca fiber to make footwear.

Arizona motorcycle ride
The Verde River is a green stripe of lush vegetation in the otherwise dry country near Tuzigoot National Monument.

Park rangers directed me to another national monument some miles downstream from Tuzigoot near Camp Verde. Situated high up on the side of a cliff above Beaver Creek, a tributary of the Verde River, Montezuma Castle was home to another band of Sinagua Indians. Early visitors to this ruin assumed it was Aztec in origin, but in reality the emperor Montezuma never ventured anywhere near here.

Saturday crowds were growing at Montezuma Castle as the temperature approached 80 degrees, so I headed for the high road over the Mogollon Rim. State Route 260 turned into State Route 87, wandering through some great sweeping curves lined with tall ponderosa pines before plunging down through tiny Strawberry and Pine, to Payson. A quiet town of 20,000 people at 4,800 feet elevation, Payson boasts the reconstructed Zane Grey Cabin and a museum to commemorate the author of 64 western novels that helped popularize the Mogollon Rim country in the early 20th century.

Arizona motorcycle ride
The five stories and 45 rooms of Montezuma Castle provided shelter to a people who farmed and hunted there for 200 years.
Arizona motorcycle ride
Visitors can walk through the dwelling at Tonto National Monument to get a close-up look at life on the side of a cliff.

When State Route 260 turned back northeast toward Show Low, I chose to head into some warmer weather. Early April was still a little chilly up at higher altitudes, so I dropped down to State Route 188 and made a beeline for Roosevelt Lake. The Forest Service-run Cholla Bay Campground presented a stunning desert environment with plenty of vacant sites, even on a weekend. The main draw is the lake, a reservoir 33 square miles in size, created by a dam on the Salt River built in 1911.

A side road off State Route 188 headed to another set of ancient Indian ruins at Tonto National Monument. There, a steep half-mile hike leads to a stunning cliff dwelling overlooking the lake far below. The population in the area approached its peak between 1100 and 1300 A.D. They created Rio Salado polychrome pottery and farmed along the Salt River in the Tonto Basin. Drought, flash flooding and social conflict led most of the people to depart in the late 14th century for more favorable living situations elsewhere.

Arizona motorcycle ride
Beyond the road leading up to Tonto National Monument, Roosevelt Lake gleams invitingly.

South of Tonto National Monument, the road ran into a T. A west turn would have taken me to Phoenix, but instead I turned east and joined a procession of Sunday riders enjoying the curves and rugged desert scenery of U.S. Route 60. A few miles beyond Globe, I stopped at the Apache Gold Casino, operated by the San Carlos Apache tribe. After lunch, I tried my luck on the video poker machines, enjoying an air-conditioned break from the road even as I contributed a few bucks toward the San Carlos education fund.

Arizona motorcycle ride
Zane Grey’s real cabin burned down in the Dude Fire in 1990, but a replica was reconstructed in Green Valley Park at the center of Payson.

Then it was another hour on U.S. Route 70, known as the “Old West Highway,” to reach Roper Lake State Park just outside of Safford. Like most other Arizona parks, the main attraction is water. Roper Lake offers swimming, boating, bird watching and fishing, plus a bonus: a natural hot spring which is available free of charge to campers in the park. At 97 degrees, the water in the cement pool was soothing, with a great view of Mount Graham to the west.

Departing Safford, I followed the Old West Highway past the turnoff to the Gila Box Riparian National Conservation Area and the cute little town of Duncan, to the New Mexico state line. Lordsburg soon came into view. With that I was back where I had started, completing a circle around desert, mountains, winding roads, lakes, rivers and history–a thousand miles of scenic Arizona highways.

Arizona motorcycle ride
A map of the route taken, by Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.

Source: RiderMagazine.com

Riding Vermont’s Route 100 From Massachusetts to Memphremagog

Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
Vermont is still a state full of small farms. Photos by the author.

Vermont is a four-season state. It offers great skiing in the winter, sweet maple syrup in the spring and fantastic foliage in the autumn. Summer? Summer is for motorcycle riding. Vermont’s topography lends itself to incredible motorcycle roads, and State Route 100 is one of the best. Extending from Massachusetts to nearly the Canadian border, Route 100 traces the eastern flank of the Green Mountains, and it is as fine a motorcycle road as you will find anywhere.

I entered Vermont from North Adams, Massachusetts, where Route 100 zigzags through the quiet towns of Readsboro and Whitingham and loops around Harriman Reservoir before finally turning north. The first town of any size that I encountered was Wilmington, where I stopped at Dot’s Restaurant.

Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
A map of the route taken, by Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.

Dot’s is a Wilmington icon. The building dates from 1832 and has been a diner since the 1930s. When Hurricane Irene hit Vermont a few years ago, the Deerfield River backed up and pushed Dot’s off its foundation. After three years and a complete foundation replacement, Dot’s has reopened, and the restaurant is every bit as popular as before.

In the morning, after a good night’s sleep and a great breakfast at the Gray Ghost Inn, I hit the road. Just north of the Gray Ghost, Route 100 twists and turns down to the river. The same storm that nearly destroyed Dot’s also wiped out this section of Route 100. By rebuilding it all at once, many of the off-camber and reducing-radius corners were fixed, yet the nature of the road was not compromised. The miles of new pavement made this section of the road a joy to ride.

Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
The Gray Ghost Inn is a family-owned B&B that caters to motorcyclists and offers up a delicious traditional Vermont breakfast.

North of Weston, Route 100 tucks in tight against a series of small lakes. With a few houses on the left and swimmers and boaters on the right, I felt like I was in the scene. The heat of the sun through the pine trees and the mouthwatering smell of burgers on a grill made this stretch a feast for all five senses.

In Plymouth, I took a side trip on Route 100A to Plymouth Notch. This is where President Calvin Coolidge was born and where he retired after his presidency. Elected as Vice President in 1920, he happened to be staying here when President Harding died. His father, a notary public, swore him in as our 30th president at 2:47 a.m. in the front parlor of their home by the light of a kerosene lantern.

Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
Founded by Calvin Coolidge’s father, Plymouth Cheese makes some outstanding cheeses.

There are about 20 ski resorts in Vermont and more than half are near Route 100. I turned up Mountain Road toward Killington, the largest ski resort in Vermont. This multilane road with turning lanes, hotels and restaurants was a big departure from the rural landscape of the past 100 miles. It’s all designed for the winter ski crowds, but traffic was light today so I whizzed up past the golf course and the Killington Grand Hotel to the ski area parking lot. I hopped in the gondola to the summit and then hiked another couple hundred yards to the highest point. At 4,229 feet above sea level, the view from Vermont’s second-highest peak is outstanding, and I could see the Green Mountains rippling out in all directions.

Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
Swimmers enjoy the cool water of the Mad River.

North of Killington, Route 100 traces through the ripples. It is a fantastic motorcycle road as it dips and swoops through the woods and around the hills through Pittsfield, Stockbridge and Rochester, where I stopped for a maple milk shake at the Rochester Café.

This section of Vermont is known for the Gaps, the roads crossing the Green Mountains other parts of the country refer to as passes. In Rochester, State Route 73 heads over Brandon Gap, while to the east, Bethel Mountain Road crosses Rochester Gap. In Hancock, State Route 125 heads west over Middlebury Gap, while the dirt road to the east crosses Roxbury Gap. The partially unpaved Lincoln Gap heads out of Warren, and State Route 17, Appalachian Gap, leaves out of Waitsfield. I could spend an entire day happily zipping back and forth on these roads.

Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
Lower Podunk Road is two miles farther down Route 100.

Riding into Waterbury I came across the first traffic lights I had seen since Wilmington, 130 miles ago. The congestion was worth it though, as just past the final light was the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream factory. Here I toured the factory, which ended with a scoop of Ben and Jerry’s famous ice cream. Out in back is a “flavor graveyard,” a mock cemetery with granite headstones for discontinued flavors, or the “dearly depinted,” as they call them. RIP, Cool Britannia and Urban Jumble.

Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
Hard to find and just plain weird stuff from yesteryear is for sale at the Vermont Country Store.

Stowe, the next town on Route 100, is in a beautiful location below the 4,200-foot summit of Mount Mansfield. Despite being a big tourist town, it does not have a chain hotel, and the accommodations run the full range of amenities and prices. North of Stowe, the landscape opened up to rolling hills and farms. The fields were larger and the forest farther away. The road was full of sweeping turns with a rhythm and flow that made me crack the throttle a little bit more and smile inside my helmet, enjoying a thoroughly wonderful romp through the open country and empty highway. Farther on, I stopped at the Troy General Store. This is what a general store should be; the wooden floor creaked as I walked and stuff was hanging from the ceiling. A sandwich was being made in the deli, and I could smell a pizza in the oven.

Near Coventry, at the intersection with State Route 105, Route 100 just ends. After 200 miles, I expected something more than a 100 END sign, but, disappointingly, there it was. It was only 10 miles to the Canadian border so I decided to head there. I rode through Newport and along the east side of Lake Memphremagog to the village of Derby Line.

Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
St. Mary Star of the Sea church rises above Newport and Lake Memphremagog.
Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
The beautiful church building dominates the skyline over the lake.

The “Line,” in this case, is the border between Vermont and Canada. It passes right through the Haskell Free Library and Opera House: half of the building is in Derby Line, the other half is in Stanstead, Québec. In the reading room, the border is painted on the floor. Upon request, the librarian took my picture, where I stood with one foot in the USA and one foot in Canada. I couldn’t go any farther north without a passport.

Vermont Route 100 motorcycle ride
The Haskell Free Library and Opera House straddles the U.S./Canada border.

Source: RiderMagazine.com