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After finishing the blog I linked up with Jumkie, a great californian from Powerslide.net who made me one of the family back in Laguna Seca. Turns out, him and his boys somehow in the past schmoozed up some lady and became friends and now she lets them watch the races from her VIP box suite every year. WOW... And they'd snagged what's called a 'paddock pass' basically a backstage pass to see behind the scenes. This is like a backstage pass at a music festival attended by U2, Gun n Roses, ACDC, and even lesser known greats like The Tragically Hip... You get a personal look at the racing stars you root for. Incredible. Better yet, he brings down his buddy's pass so that I can wear it and get back there for a tour! AWESOME!!
Somehow I creeped out Nickey Hayden... maybe he thinks it's wierd when 6'4 dudes scream "NICKEY" at him while trying to take pictures lol... Or maybe after my awkward remark to Casey Stoner in Laguna, I'm on a watch list? Lol, who knows. But he wasn't down with me being around and twiceit felt like he snubbed me. Even so, I root for the guy.
I went up to the box suite and helped myself to some roasted almonds and cookies, and then shared the customary shot of tequila, BOOYAKA!!!! Oh, it's getting late, gonna try and actually make this one a quickie... For real though, no seriously! Stop doubting my ability to summarize!!
Jumkie invites me out with him and california Kid and others I can presume, but I already had plans with a coffeehost, whom I met up with a tad late and then took a rush 30 minute tour of the Modern Art Museum in Indianapolis. What I saw was great, and I'm glad I had that chance.
Then it was on to Vogue theater to watch some horrendous Japanese influenced presentations; 20 slides, 20 seconds per slide, 10 presenters. Horrible... Most of them needed to reattend lectures on lectures. Thank god for PBR... that's Pabst something something... Indiana Beer, lol... In the meantime we had fun playing a game where we guessed the appearance of the presenter based only on their voice. Loser bought the next round. Fun considering where we sat, we couldn't see much. But listening to Pieces, an indy band was totally awesome. Really good.
Then some of my hosts friends showed up and we headed out on the town, Broad Ripple Village actually, the college area to dance it up. Really fun!
Later in the evening, I was a little danced out... actually, it was Madonna's "Holiday"... I can only dance like a goof for so long.. and only to songs I enjoy. Some woman who'd spoken to me earlier for a brief moment at the bar approached me and started pouring on the flattery. I wasn't attracted, and although my ego enjoys being flattered, I didn't want to give her the wrong impression, and hoped my being polite and pleasant but devoid of reciprocation would be enough to let her know that I wasn't interested. She asked why I wasn't dancing, and I replied because it was an awful song. She really wanted to dance... Trouble was a great song may soon come on that I may wish to dance to. And one did.
I looked at her and thought to myself "Well, what's the harm in a dance? Maybe it'll make her night? Maybe she'll enjoy herself?..." So I grabbed her hand "This one's a good one, let's go dance" and for one song we danced. No, there was no gratuitous grinding. The grinding was very PG, lol, just kidding... The song ended, I thanked her for the dance and wished her a great night. She looked devestated, like a child who is allowed to play with a puppy at the pet store, then is told it's time to go... She'd thought she could bring the puppy home.
I couldn't help but wonder if I'd made the right choice. I thought I was doing something nice. But then I couldn't help but think I'd made an insensative mistake.
My coffeehost took us to another place. I nearly had trouble getting in. It felt like one of my host's friends felt like I might be some sort of a threat.. and impedence to his goal for the night. That was my initial take on it anyway. We were getting let into a club by skipping the queue, and he told the bouncer adimantly that he didn't know me and I wasn't with the group. Well my host cleared it up and I was inside. However, not feeling welcome by this individual, I made my way off to the dance floor on my own. I made new friends pretty quick.
We hopped a cab and went back to their place. There I met two more guys, lifelong friends of the home owner. One was a tall lanky fellow, and the other a short, angry, mysoginistic, drunk. Great, my favorite kind of person. Immediately he's laying into one of the girls, the italian, belittling her, making snide remarks, pointing his finger in her face. Why? Because he's drunk, because he hates women, because he is a bad lay, because he has a small pecker, I dunno. He's just that abusive asshole type. I find out later he's had all his girlfriends leave him because he likes to argue with his hands. A real piece of work. I'm not a violent man, but right away I wish pain on him.
The home owner steps in, "Hey, relax man. You're drunk. You're either calming down and going to bed or you're leaving". Drunk turns to the home owner and now it's "Don't disrespect me, what have I ever done to you". The conversation loops in circles. I've heard this garbage before. 5 years in the army, I met a lot of good guys. But I also met some angry drunks. Same kinda thing when I was a doorman.
My jesus shoes are off. Everyone's wearing their shoes still but I wear mine so often I want a break. The conversation has shifted to the living area near the pool table and it's getting hotter. I'm in the kitchen with the girls. Tall and lanky is trying to mediate at the pool table. Now the angry drunk is shouting and hollaring. The home owner keeps his cool. Turns out they've been friends their whole lives, and angry drunk always gets like this, but that's what's keeping the home owner from just putting him outside. The girls are freaked out. They weren't the type with low self esteem that tolerate guys talking to them like dirt, but he's a friend, they know him, he's just drunk, that's the excuse, and the home owner will sort it out. But it gets worse.
"I HAVE A FUCKING CUE BALL IN MY HAND AND I WILL SMASH IT IN YOUR FUCKING FACE!! YOU HEAR ME?!?" They're moving back into the seating area near the kitchen from the living area. I move up to my feet softly, no shoes, no sound, real casual like. But the italian girl decides her presence will bring some sense to the situation and she runs in between them. "Calm down right now!" she calls out while pointing her fingers in his face. He shoves her with one hand, the other still holding the cue ball and he's screaming threats again. He circles the room around the home owner who's still keeping his calm and trying to talk him down. Angry drunk is in front of me with his back to me, his hand raises the cue ball. There's a time to negotiate and a time to act. A cue ball is a weapon, and this guys making threats. I shoot in, one arm going under his chin, tucking his adam's apple into the crook of my elbow and quickly applying pressure while the other restrains the cue ball arm. He struggles, but I use my height to put him off balance into the couch, then rotate so he's on top and exposed. "You're going to sleep, you're out of control" I say. lol... "No, don't do that man!" says the home owner, "He's my buddy let him go". "Take the cue ball out of his hand" he does. "You going to behave?" I say while loosening the pressure. "Yesss" wheezes angry drunk. So I let him up. The fights out of him, and tall and lanky and home owner escort him outside. The girls are shaken right up and I help them find matches for a cigarette. I think my actions were justified. I don't approve of guys hurting girls, especially not physically. And being honest, I'm glad I had the chance to put to use years of training, for good.
It takes a while and there's a lot more drama, including punching tall and lanky right in the belly. He comes in whimpering and crying, "How could he do that?... You don't punch a guy with Chrones disease..." He'd just gotten out of the hospital a week before. His best friend, the angry drunk knew that too. What a piece of work. After a while the home owner finally gets the guy in a cab and he leaves. What I find out is that threats are made by the angry drunk to get his gun out of his car and kill the home owner. The home owner has wrestled him into the ground three times at hearing this, but then lets him up thinking it's over. The angry drunk being gone now, everyone relaxes a bit. Home owner thanks me, and we divvy up couches and go to sleep. Wow... dramaaaaaaaaa! lol
The next day was qualifying at Indy Speedway. 9 time world champion Rossi Valentino goes into the dirt a few times... wierd... American 1st year rookie, Ben Spies qualifies with the hottest lap time and gets Pole Position. Pretty big deal, that's a record for the track. What I like is later on during the interviews on the Speed TV stage when Yamaha goes up there, he's really modest and humble about it, stating he knows it's going to be tough to hold onto that 1st place position with Dani Pedrosa behind him. I like this guy. Maybe I don't have to be heartbroken that Nickey Hayden, who I'm cheering for has snubbed me, maybe I can jump on the Ben Spies bandwagon? lol
Before the interviews I talked to two sisters who were from Holland. I'd heard the accent and asked where they were visiting from but they actually attend school in the US now. "So how often do you come to Moto GP?" "We come to all of them" "You mean you were at Laguna in California and now you're at Indy?" "No, all of them" "What do you mean?" I ask. "We fly to all the races" They're like 20 or something "Wow, that's pretty cool, how?" "Our parents are Moto GP sponsors" "Wow..." I say. "... My parents are NOT moto gp sponsors" and they laugh at the joke. And sure as shit the next day, I'm sitting in my seats across from the starting line and the podium, and they're walking around the team paddock area before the race. Holy shitballs... I shoulda actually made an attempt to schmooze.
It's saturday and I head out to meet up with the california boys from Powerslide.net at the fair grounds and I see my first ever dirt track race. These guys are FLYING on 2 wheels on a dirt circle, taking the turns with one foot down for stability... Now, it's not that cool cause it's just a circle BUT... to be going that fast on dirt? Frig, I nearly went down on that park road doing 40 mph, and these guys are going like 120 mph. My hat was off to them, hahah
Ended up just going downtown to meet up with the guys because the race was almost over when I got there to meet them. No point meeting up just to say "Now we're going downtown" so we met at their hotel. I gotta hand it to Indianapolis. They turned their main street downtown, Meridian into "Motorcycles on Meridian Street"... the place was wall to wall bikes. Mine being parked right in the middle of the street amidst hundreds of others in line. So awesome. Have to see it to believe it. Met up with the guys and Cali Kid was good enough to let me eat his leftovers from his entree he couldn't finish. Not that I can't buy my own food, but I wasn't that hungry, hahah! Met Steeeeeve from Powerslide as well as Frosty58. Took a quick look at Steve's old classic Suzuki i think it was, then headed out for a couple of pints, just Jumkie, Steeeeve and I while the others headed off to bed in hopes of getting up early.
After a couple drinks during the UFC match, the dudes went back to the hotel and I was on my own to meander the downtown and see what was what. Came across a place called Howl At The Moon. "What music do they play here?" I ask the doorman. "All requests". I pay my cover. Moments later I realize to my dismay I am in a HORRIBLE dueling piano bar.. *Vomit*.
Don't get me wrong, you do this right and these places are badass! Just go to a Red Piano from Elton John's franchise. I've been to the one in Edmonton. Loads of fun! They played every single song people requested, including 'Single Ladies" by Beyonce right when it came out. Amazing!
But these guys sucked. So I left. Eventually found myself in the Subterranean Lounge where some good house music was being spun. THANK YOU!
In the end, great night, even got introduced to Steak n Shake. This 50's style diner can kill you if you inhale too much cholesterol from the air.. but the Fresco Melt is so good. Basically a grilled cheese sandwich with a paddy inside, lol...
Went back to get my bike, Uh oh.. where are all the other bikes?! None are left?! They're all gone?! And mine was in the middle of the road!!!! Turns out someone must have held my clutch in and rolled my bike to the side of the street for me so it wouldn't impede morning traffic in case I left it there. So sweet of them!! Thanks, city of Indianapolis!!
Headed back to the hostel and caught some much needed Z's.
haha, K, it was gonna be a summarized blog again, but I came BACK to it when I had more time so it got long again. But I want to get back into summary mode.
The race wasn't too crazy, but it was pretty decent. Went out after for dinner with two people from my hostel, both fellow Moto GP fans, one of which travelled from Brazil, the other from Australia. Very cool!
My coffeehost wanted to make it up to me for not really sending me off properly on the Friday night, although it seemed fine by me. So we linked up at Vogue again where her DJ friend was doing the obvious. Apparently after his set we would depart and hit some sort of afterparty for Moto GP downtown. Didn't sound hopeful to me considering everyone has already left cause tomorrow is Monday, and in my mind, downtown would be deserted. I also had the opportunity to be informed that the tension on friday night that felt like a light-sabre duel I wanted nothing to do with was a total misunderstanding! Well that's good because we were all going out again so any further drama could be avoided. What ends up happening though is the DJ, the guy I mistakenly believed didn't want me being around my host, and my host lead our convoy in the DJ's SUV. Oddly enough they drove so fast we lost them and they got to the venue before us, went in, and were now unable to get us in. Fortunately though my host was able to get in her two girlfriends. I however was left outside.
But does everything happen for a reason? After asking the doorman if he could please let me in and being denied, I decided I'd wait and see if my host was able to respond to my text and get me in. "I have no pull, sorry".... Well I had to piss now, so I meander around this pimped out Escalade parked right in front of the door ala security style. I non chalantly pull myself out off my pants and begin relieving myself on the other side of the SUV from the doorman, out of sight but in the plane open while looking skywards at the architecture as if I'm doing anything BUT pissing in public. I should mention that waiting outside as well is the Hooters manager and his 3 buddies who were also invited. None of us can get in.
I finish just in time as a police officer rounds the corner and is in my view. The Hooters dudes are gone. 2 guys and 2 girls walk out of the club, a place called Hyde and start talking outside.
"Dude, c'mon, please I'm from Canada, I'm touring the continent on my motorcycle, can i please come in? I was with those girls, I was sposed to get in" "Sorry, I can't.."
I look back to the 2 dudes and the 2 girls. The 2 girls are now paying a lot more attention the more slender guy. And the other has a bit more muscle. The more slender one is wearing really nice black hightops with red laces. I've seen these before... during an interview... at Speed stage.. with Yamaha... I look up.. this dude, with two hot ho's on him.. is none other than... Jorge Lorenzo.
*dramatic pause*
I shit you not. I step in, mind you I am not drunk, I've had a few but I take her pretty easy to save money as well as kidney cells, especially on a long trip like this with so much potential partying (ie: 80% of my nights) "Excuse me, you bare a strikng resemblance to a fellow named Hor-hay Lorentho" and I say it just like this and he nods and says 'thank you' or something, and the other guy begins to speak english, and it strikes me that this might be his friend and PA. Now I don't totally recall whether they say "It is him" but I doubt that, but I know it's him so I say "Dude, good race today... And by the way, I bought your underwear, they're fucking awesome. And he's sorta confused. Sure he takes english questions during interview but he's probably had a couple drinks and this is probably a little different from the usual conversation he has. And he reaches down, pulls his shirt up and shows his ginch to me, and I say "No no no.. *laugh* not your D and G's, YOUR underwear, number 99, with the x on the thigh" as I point it out on mysyelf, and he's perplexed but his pal who is laughing his balls off translates, then Jorge laughs and shakes my hand. I guess he's glad his underwear has that impact on his fans.
So I say "Can you guys help me get in?" and the PA says "In 5 minutes" So i wait. Then Jorge leaves with the two ho's and buddy goes inside and I miss him. I go back to the doorman "Please can I come in?" "okay fine". He lets me by. Nothing else to it. I waited maybe 15 minutes. However, I'm grateful, I give him a 20. I wanted to give him a 10 but I only had 20's on me, lol. He didn't expect it but he took it.
I walk in, the place is pounding, it's dark, good music plays, people are everywhere, mostly guys, mostly european. a few girls are around. I keep walking. Valentino Rossi is sitting at the bar with a couple girls and some dudes. "Vale, good race today" and I shake his hand just like a dude passing by and saying 'hi'. "thanks" he says but I can tell he's a little uneasy. This is not the paddock, this is their club, this is their chance to just be people and not get pestered by the fans. I can't push my boundary.
The fortunate thing is, being so new to the sport... and maybe having less of an appreciation to how incredible it is compared to other people, I didn't get starstruck.. and it was really easy to just be natural and not get out of hand, to just be some guy saying "hey nice race", and I walked on.
I did notice later though that Vale moved to the roped off VIP area. Is it possible that I'd startled him? Maybe, maybe not, whatever.
I run into my coffee host, she's near the dj booth with her people. I say to her "Do you have any idea where you are right now? Two of the best racers in the world right now, one of which may be one of the best of all time are here just hanging out and I shook their hands..... this is incredible" "Coooool!" she says, lol... Well, either way, I look around a bit to see who else i recognize.
To put it in perspective, meeting Jorge outside was like meeting Sydney Crosbey, the #1 draft pick in the NHL that some have said is the next Wayne Gretzky.
Meeting Rossi is like meeting Michael Jordan back when he still played for the Chicago Bulls.
Actually, it's probably bigger, because Moto GP is international. These guys are like, the two biggest names in FIFA world cup soccer. And I just gave them a 'how ya do'. Cool.
Some dude I saw in the paddock while on the walk with Jumkie was there.
At one point some one I'm talking to asks who I'm with and how I got invited. Time to shovel some golden bullshit!
"I'm touring the continent on a 2009 BMW K1300R... I let the BMW reps at Laguna Seca know about my blog and although they're not making it official, the guy I talked to is behind me and supports what I'm doing, and something might happen with it later. Anyway, he got me invited in here" lol
I try to take some half-legible pics with my phone, sans flash. They're shit. I take some video. it's shit. Some guys notice me, they look suspicious. I lean in to them "I'm video conferencing my girlfriend right now, telling her to fuck off because she always bitches about me partying so I'm showing her what's going on" They laugh, the tension is broken, they probably have doen it themselves in the past. I'm NOT a crazy fan who shouldn't be here.
Just turns out to be an incredible night. What are the chances? Again, couch surfing in conjunction to going with the flow on everything has proven to be totally awesome. It's like "Yes Man" with Jim Carrey. Had I not come out and just went to the hostel to blog... I woulda missed this.
The next day I gingerly get myself ready and move on to Cincinatti. It's a nice place. The Contemporary Arts Center isn't really my cup of tea, but oh well.
My couchhost is really nice and with the teaming up of my coffeehost, they take me out for a big dinner with other CS'ers in the area. Really fun intersting bunch of people. The italian venue we're in has some really weird photography in the men's washroom though. Baby boys peeing, statues of naked men, etcetera, etcetera. I find it funny that there are no pictures of guys with big schlongs. Wouldn't want anyone developing a complex in the washroom and sueing them, right? lol
That we ate dinner in a round room at a round table with pictures of former popes all over the walls and a plastic bust of the present pope in the center of the table beneath a plastiac case on a lazy susan was a definite bonus.
Ice cream in High Park while one of the CS'ers played piano on a public piano as another did interpretive dance was also fun. That some old, stuffy, married couple walked by and didn't see any humor in it was even funnier though, hehe
Tomorrow, on to Columbus.
Take care, Ride safe.
A couple of things I neglected to mention in the last blog. Figured I'd take the time to mention them.
Regretably, I chose to miss the Barber Vintage Motorcycle Museum. To deviate and go to Birmingham from Atlanta near Leeds where the museum is, and THEN head to Nashville would have DOUBLED my on-bike time for the day AND gotten me into town even later.
I'm glad I chose to arrive earlier. I do wish I'd seen the Barber Museum, but like the Grand Canyon, it will remain for long enough that I can see it in my lifetime. Although I appreciate a lot of the places I've been, the trip has manifested periodically over the period and seems to be becoming more about the people and experiencs now. Just as it had changed from being about the ride. I suppose it's natural considering as social creatures, in the end, we tend to seek out fellowship.
Even so, thanks to West Ky Guy from Sport-Touring.net for the suggestion. One day.
As well, something I wish I'd thought of eons ago to avoid the stank-on-ya that has become my riding pants, while on the interstate, I'm going bare-ass. Not naked, but sans riding gear (except the helmet. I'm hot, not crazy). The first day I tried it, I rode for as long as I could bare, but frequently I would think to my damaged rims, the milage on the bike, the possibility of shit going wrong and what I would feel and look like after sliding and rolling across 100 meters of pavement... I pulled into the nearest gas station and suited up.
It was like the transformation from man into werewolf. I became a demon on that bike. No longer timidly pulling along at 130 kmh, I was comfortably cruising at 160, pushing faster when I thought I could get away with it. I couldn't even control it. It felt ridiculous NOT going fast. Everything felt so insync, I was hitting everything that had the slightest bend with a touch of lean.
What's great about this is that I don't spend an hour and a half in slow moving traffic leaving the city or doing errands while geared up and sweating puddles in them. Had I thought of this in say, Alburquerque, things would be a lot different. Stink-wise. lol, thus comfort wise too I guess.
Anyway, in Nashville I arrived at my Apple Store appointment. The phone was irreparably damaged. $200 for a new one that wouldn't even work due to US and Canadian Sim cards being different.
Got to my hostel, the Music City hostel, conveniently situated near Centeniall Park if I remember correctly. Gorgeous park with a parthenon and everything. Monument to a guy who built a railroad, a mile of running pavement. This was great. Especially considering that morning I had gone and done it; bought the running shoes.
Turns out, for the last 12 years I've been wearing the wrong shoes. I was supposed to be wearing a larger size to fit not just a fraction of an inch but nearly a full inch ("one thumb width") in front of my toe. So In an instant I go from a proportional size 13 to a 14. Now I realize girls see big shoes and they think a certain something, but this just looks ridiculous. However, it is quite comfortable.
Didn't really get the salesman's logic, and this was in a real decent running store called Fast Break in Chattanooga, but he was making it sound like my shoes being shorter and being tied up so tight was causing me to run on bunched up toes. Not even the case. BUT the ball of my foot was potentially not where it was supposed to be in the shoe all these years, which was a bad thing for me.
Either that, or they had a lot of size 14's they were trying to get rid of near the end of the summer! But this guy had worn in, broken in runners, and sure as shit, he had a massive gap in between his toe and the end of the shoe, and they were not tied tight.
So I ran in them in Centennial while doing calisthenics and taking a butt-load of pictures. Really gorgeous park. This was very much the right decision. I felt rejuvinated.
And with the help of a nearly blind Han Solo, the Rebel Alliance managed to sink Jabba's Sail Barge above Sarlac's Pit in the deserts of Tatooine. And Return of the Jedi was in full swing.
Back at the hostel, I put a load of wash in. But I had so little, I openly offered for others to wash with me. $6 for wash and I had nothing? A citizen of Perth chose to join me but felt guilty and wanted to pay. I said I'd take a cider when they got back from the liquor store. Fair deal!
Some one else joined us and we were off to the races. One of the hostel staffers was madly impressed by what he interpretted to be generosity... I'm just a frugal bastard and didn't like the idea of wasting money or water, lol
Shared the cider over some chips, salsa, celery, and humus, as well as some good conversation, and ascertained a recommendation for the best philly cheese steak in Phili. Looking forward to it!
Made my way over to a place called Cabana's on Belcourt. Rode into the parking lot to see a sign saying 'reserved for -insert some steak house name here-' and non-chalantly grabbed a nearby cone ala James Bond and placed it behind my bike just like the cars on either side of me. Queue brass instrumental now.
Cabana was nice. I meandered through to the bar while looking for some one who could resemble the few pictures I'd seen of my coffeehost. Near the bar I got a text. "Look for the party of 13". I turned around. 13 young women between 21 and 24 sat celebrating or maybe simply pre-drinking before a night out. I casually made my way closer to the table, and waited for some form of recognition. None. I texted back, "Well don't make me stand here like a retard". "Sorry I don't see you" came the response.
What a coincidence. This was not MY party of 13. Regardless, my coffee host and their company were a pleasure to be around, and after some quail appetizer, we headed out for a stroll. First to Dragon Park, so aptly named due to the construction of two massive dragons fabricated from cement and adorned with shiny tile and stone. Being brave or stupid, I climed to the apex of the taller dragon via the spines and rode the dragon like the kid in Never Ending Story. "Falco", wasn't it?
Then we made our way over to the swings. Well it's been a while, and not only was I out of practice but my hips are a tad wider than before, so I couldn't not sit atop the baby swings like before. Fortunately they've integrated some sort of large plastic cradle seat for babies! My god were they comfy! Difficult to swing in, but nice to sit in, it couldn't be helped but to overcome the challenge of getting momentum. Eventually, we were going full tilt.
It had been years since I'd suffered motion sickness, something I'd overcome through desensatization in the military, but it was back, with a vengeance. I didn't throw up, but my stomach felt hot, and my head dissoriented. I had to throw in the towel. I'm still pretty entertaining, even when not in a swing so my weakness was overlooked by the people with me.
It was late and the hunger came calling, and much to my chagrin, we headed off to the nearest 24 Hour Waffle House, and despite checking a waffle from waffle house off my list, it was the most likely candidate for a late night snack. Thankfully my coffeehost helped me with some of it.
The next day I arrived in Louisville, a little later than I hoped, but it turned out perfect. My Kentucky coffeehost was already off work, and we met for convenience as much as our mutual safety in the Wal-Mart.
We opted for my bike, and took the cases off and stored them in their car, and hit the free way into downtown to see an art gallery/hotel guarded by giant, red, plastic penguins. I should probably clarify, this evening my coffee host was female. Only due to absolute necessity do I ride "Two-guys-one-bike" lol
Downtown Louisville was quiet, but beautiful. Apparently there is a saying "Why Louisville" because for whatever reason, it's looked down upon by some of the snootier big cities. An attempt was evident at cultural catch up, and some of the interesting architecture seemed out of place, but there was a definite charm, and I really enjoyed it there.
Surprisingly the gallery was hosting some sort of semi-private function and dinner, which was being attended by the Mayor of Louisville as well as the Governor of Kentucky. We were definitely not dressed for the occassion, I with my stanky squidding cargo shorts and ducati-Beverly Hills t-shirt (generously donated by Jumkie at the Laguna Moto GP a month prior, and very well broken in now - And this time I squidded the whole way to Louisville from Nashville which worked out great for immediately meeting my host), and 2 day facial growth. But being as we were the public whom the upper elite in attendance represent, we were ushered in by the doorman. My host hesitated slightly, "We're on the list" I joked and pulled her inside, lol
Sample hors d'ouevres lined the perimiter of the common area, and we tried some while literally brushing elbows with the upper class. I admit I clumsily jostled a few while passing by and I could feel ice picks and stares of death in my back. But this was too fun to feel like escaping empty threats.
We made our way into the main exhibit hall, and noticed it had been turned into a dining area and the guests were being seated. My host stopped to ask permission to go down the stairs, but I was already off, enjoying the pieces as I descended. I went into a side room where black-ink depictions of the slave history lined the wall. I saw the rows of gift bags for the guests. Didn't that idea originate with birthday parties for 6 year olds in the 50's? I wanted one, but I dare not take. I know the boundaries and I was treading close just being down there, but I dare not overstep them. I went back into the dining area and my host was waiting at the top of the stairs, having turned herself in to the Gestapo staff. I felt bad. I couldn't leave her up there and longer alone. It felt selfish to go and continue looking at the works, so I went back up and we toured the dining areas and left.
I was directed to a Mediterranean diner where we had some great kebabs and rolls, topped off with the best, hands-down, baclava I've ever had! And I grew up in Fort McMurray, and attended a public school with a large Lebanese community, where I'd experienced many a mediterranean dessert, so that was saying a lot. Really nice place. Sadly, some pile of shit had 'tagged' the men's bathroom mirror within a week of the place reopening. Some people.
We wandered around a hipster area where "Keep Louisville Weird" bumper stickers could be seen on the occassional car, and had ourselves some great java while perusing the shops, both clothing, and furniture. Great area.
We met my coffeehosts room mate and then went out in search of a entertainment, firstly in the form of a drag-queen show at a local gay bar. But the shows only happen on Sunday. Shame. Mighta been interesting.
Instead we made due with Phoenix Hill, Louisville's far from finest mega-nightclub. This place catered to A-Listers... back in 1986 though. It was still a good deal of fun, thanks to the company, as well as the many characters that populated the place. Light-string, alternating palms trees, and bamboo lined walls made the place a definite hot spot for those suffering the winter blues come January and February. I felt like I was in a tropical paradise myself. So did the 80 year old tango dancer busting moves with the lovely 20 somethings on the dance floor. I think the world's most talented drunk Karaoke singer was singing Pretty Woman at one point. he may have been possessed by the ghost of Roy Orbinson, the vocals were so strikingly on key.
The rock band upstairs was smashing out the covers while 4 or 5 women swooned the stage. I think this same cover band and these same swooners were there in the hay-days of 1986. Back when people like Arseneal Hall and Magic Johnson would rock the spot.
Oh before this we went to a trendy tappas and had some mojitos. And for the record, I am not a 'Bee'
My host also proved to be a fairly talented photographer and artist. I'd even had the privalege of seeing her book, titled "Looking for Me ". It was quite moving in both poetry and photo, and I recommend searching it out.
Oh right, the reason I was late getting to Louisville was because I stopped at Las Paletas before leaving Nashville. Home-made ice cream popsicles, over 30 flavors, $2.50 a piece, non stop line up. Wow.
My next day's ride to Indianapolis involved Highway 135 through Salem and north past the park. For most of it, it was a great ride! Thanks to - - for helping break up the monotony I've been having to face! The beast was out again! Leaning hard into every turn, doing 150 kmh into 100 meter diameter turns... so good. But eventually the road turn into rock chip and tar as it had been repaired recently and would take some time to dry out. Oh well, still so nice to get a piece of that action! I'm talking about riding a motorcycle... Yeah I know... lol... I should probably get some track time.
I left the winding and went back to the freeway. Just in time to experience my first Cracker Barrel, having felt an urge for pancakes or french toast. DAMN SKIPPY! They're delicious! Maybe one more time... but let's not get carried away!
Came into town straight to the Indy Hostel. Really well run place, very clean, just what I needed without paying the big bucks. Mind you, VIP'ing it with my powerslide buddies woulda been cool too. Maybe next year!
This morning, had to hit a park for another refreshing run. Looked at my googlemaps. Well, being as George Washington Park was so large, AND named after the founding father of the country, I assumed it would be amazing. It was nice, but lacked any statues to Mr. Washington. Sort of confused me. But it sure got the job done. And although the area appeard to be a poorer neighborhood, I wasn't too worried, not even running in the dark until the dawn occurred. It was beautiful watching as the horizon illuminated and light began peaking through the leaves. I took a few photos. They looked alright. Perhaps with the photo Hipster App on iPhone they would have been better, but this will suffice.
The ride to the park however was astonishingly cold. I have to remember that although the US has some warm spots, we still share some of the same climates. indianapolis isn't far off Alberta in terms of warm days but COLD nights.. and mornings. Doing 60 kmh in 12 'C feels like... I wanted so bad to get to the park and run and warm up that I rode faster yet. I sure don't miss winter exercises in Petawawa.
As I continued running, I came across some people walking. "Alright, good morning to you!" said the leading lady of the pack. "Morning" I returned to her and said to every one else I came across. So far on this trip in the 5 runs I've done, one of which was quite long on a populated beach, no one had said anything to me. It was a welcome change. But maybe that's because until Centennial Park, I ran barefoot and shirtless in surfing shorts I say 'hello' or smile to people when I run back home and it made me feel more at home.
As I continued running, and as more people came from their houses in the area as I made my way back to the hostel, I noticed this community was nearly entirely made up of African American people. Perhaps the tone in this woman's "Alriiiight" and excited "Good morning to you" was because it wasn't often caucassian people of the area ran in that park, and I appeared to be one that wasn't worried about invisible ethnic boundaries? Well I'm not, and if that was the case, I'm glad I gave her a little cheer. I understand why these boundaries exist, but I wish they didn't.
I stopped off at a McDonald's, famished, and had an OJ, Milk and a McGriddle... Syrop entwined Pancake buns.. Genius. In line were two women, both with their young children. Friday morning. A day you could wake your kids up a bit early and treat them to a breakfast out before school. A special treat once a week maybe? Something you'd tell them not to brag about at school knowing that not every child may be that fortunate, but realizing your kids would feel special and thankful for the opportunity. I found it touching. For us to want our children to be happy, to be comfortable, to feel joy, is universal, and transcends those boundaries mentioned above.
I walked outside to see the sun break from the distant tree tops and rise above a KFC sign. Not exactly Yosemite National Park, but nonetheless, beautiful.
I'm at Indy watching all the awesome race stuff for the next few days; Will blog after.
Take care, Ride safe.
Oh, I forgot to mention a past coffeehosts charity project for building wells in Africa. Here is the website. www.justaddwater.com It's a good cause, not just a money grab, but a process for building wells and developing a clean water source. Without the basic necessities, people can't build their infrastructures, which in turn means, they can never develop. I'm going to give $20 as promised. Feel free to give what you can.
I know I've said it before but this time I mean it... I mean it... I'm going to make this a quick one, lol..
Left Jacksonville and made my North to Savannah. I'd been told Savannah was nice, based around 'squares' in the downtown area, but that it was sort of small and Charleston father north yet was even nicer, and classier, due to the fact that at night you can smell the pulp mill over the water in Savannah.
Well, I don't know how amazing Charleston is because I didn't want to go that much farther north (another 100 miles I think) just to backtrack. But Savannah, people... is beautiful... incredibly so. It's old, the architecture is warm and historical, the scene is young, and relaxed, revolving around the Savannah College of Art and Design. So nice to be there!
Landed at a Starbucks where I could do some wifi and await my couchhost's dismissal from work. Tried to run my visa through the parking ticket dispenser. Didn't work. "oh well, fuck it then".
2 hours later, I had a ticket. So I wrote ON the envelope containing my ticket "Your machine wouldn't accept my visa, I have money, come in and see me in Starbucks".
Surprisingly, no one took up the offer. So I crumpled the ticket up and threw it away. I'm really hoping I don't have any problems at the border flying in and out or when I leave. lol.. or when I come back.
I should also mention that I've decided anytime I stop like this for long periods, i'm going to hop out of the riding gear.
Met up with my couchhost at their place in a lovely street off of downtown, where trees lined the streets and moss hung from the trees. Just beautiful.
They were studying to become an architect, and their ability in art showed tremendously. Photos of their paintings hung on lines on the wall, intricate street drawings were here and there (I was gifted with one! I didn't want to accept, 5 hours had gone into it, but in the end I accepted with great appreciation. I look forward to getting it from the post when I return), and I was also shown drawings from a soon-to-be-printed book from a local natural preserve.
As well, fantastic latin music played in the background. Babasonicas was a group I'll check out in the future, as was Paco De Lucia. Check them out. Paco makes Jessie Cooke sound like a fledgling Jr. High music student.
Then it was off to River street in search of a Fried Oyster Sandwich. Thanks Orson of RideOnTwo for that recommendation. Couldn't find the "Roebling Road" you said had the best food, but the Oyster Bar gladly put a basket of fried oysters on a bun with tartar sauce for me and some lettuce. FABU!!!!
After that we had some margarita slurpees from some place with a whack of flavors.
On our way to a local pub too meet some of my host's friends, we ran into their friend TC who owns Melissa's Pizza. This guy was quite an entrepreneur with a wide variety of different ventures going on. It turned out the aged building he'd bought for the pizza place which was over 200 years old had some skeletons in the basement. Savannah tourism thrives off of ghost stories and even has trolly and horse carriage tours that go on so you can hear some of them, and he was going to be on TV soon.
That morning while at IHOP's crossing the Stuffed French Toast off the list (pretty good by the way, worth trying once), I met a fellow rider about my age. Really good guy, friendly nature, and after talking to him a bit, it impressed upon me, that perhaps I shouldn't pursue the idea of a touring company in Romania. Not only has it become evident that people aren't drawn to the area, but I thought that maybe I was aiming in the wrong direction anyway. Either way, I wish him the best,
After telling my idea to TC who talked to both of us about our dreams and whatnot, and how he's helped local artists in the area become discovered, he suggested I look into doing tours from the North to the South. It's something to think about, but quite likely already being done. Regardless, it's always nice to hear other's become enthusiastic about your ideas.
We got to the basement pub and shared a couple pints, and that concluded the evening.
The following morning I was treated to Suzni's, an off-the-chart ... Not sure what to call it, not quite fast food, not quite diner, not a roadside vendor... Anyway, they make sandwiches, salads, whatever, and they make them well! Most things have a Mediterranean flare, but just awesome!
Went over to Horizon Gallery to see my host's exhibit. Interesting, imaginative, culturally aware pieces hung together to convey a theme.
And lastly, we hit Leopold's Ice Cream shop. World famous... The family started the shop in 1928 and makes the ice cream fresh. Superb. Later on, one of the sons became a movie producer and has produced such movies as Hamburger Hill, and Sum of All Fears (wretched!), and Mission Impossible 3. They were celebrating their 81st birthday, and the radio was there, as was the present owner's wife, a photographer was taking pictures. All very cool.
Noticing a painted portrait of an officer from the era of first or second world war, I couldn't help but wonder if any of the family's money came from the shameful looting that often occured during that time, which many logistical officers took part of. They'd simply collect pieces of art, anything of value, even furniture, and have it shipped home, or shipped to nearby friendly, allied countries, to be stockpiled, and later sold off. Then refugees would return to their estates to find their family heirlooms and collected pieces gone. Sad really. Hopefully this wasn't the case. But I can't help but wonder where people with an abundance of money sometimes get it. It's not always from hardwork and a bit of luck. Even TC's stories of artists discovered left me with an unpleasant aftertaste; to think, a kid from a wealthy family, being given everything anytime they needed it, not having to work to pay their tuitions or even their living expenses, having the good fortune of some collector from the big city taking a keen interest in their work, while struggling students work while attending school and go without, and in the end may find they're pursued profession will forever remain a hobby, saddens me a bit.
Leaving Savannah, I knew it was one of those places I would cherish forever.
The funny thing is though, looking back, nearly everywhere I've ever traveled, I've imagined how nice it would be to live there. I suppose everything new is interesting, all the things still to be discovered. Like I've said before, perhaps the thing to do is to make the best of where I presently am, rather than try to find a means of getting away.
I know one thing, I couldn't help but feel a rekindled interest in art inside of me. And perhaps when I return home I should put an effort into making it a part of my life again, an active hobby. Thanks to Jeff in Ohio from RideOnTwo for suggesting I see SCAD galleries, I'm sorry I missed it, but being hosted by a SCAD architectual student who showed me their art felt pretty close.
As I raced on towards Atlanta to try and arrive before sunset (never fun being on the freeway in the dark, full of cars), I passed a sheriff's car, stopped at the exit point of a weigh station.
Of course, this is where my sense of adventure, kicks in, add a dash of stupidity.
I think that because I went by him at a reasonable pace, surely he's not going to pull out and follow me. So a reasonable thing for me to do is to get in front of a large truck so his radar is screened, and then hit the afterburners and take off. So I do just that, and I'm doing 120 mph thinking he can't see me, and I haven't seen anymore pairs of headlights creep into my line of sight so obviously, I'm still alright, and I'm just giving her like nobody's business for who know's how long when finally, I see flashing blues in my mirrors.
Oh boy, time to pull over, no sense trying to evade, I'd only dig the hole deeper.
Because I'm Canadian, he has to take me to the station where I need to pay a bail bond or some crap. I guess if he gives me a ticket, there is the potential I will flee and not pay it. Hrmm.. where would he get that idea. I suppose me paying $280 bail is a sort of happy-medium.
He ended up ticketing me for 100 in a 70, and gave me a warning about my improper lane changes (as I was not signalling while changing lanes. Can I be blamed? If I'm faster than everyone, no one needs to know I'm about to enter their lane, because they aren't going to drive forward into me, right? Right.)
Having to follow him to the station took some time and not only was it dark when I go into Atlanta, but my GPS also died. Fun!
Fortunately the GPS died only 2 blocks from my hostel. AND, because the sun was down I got to see the beautifully lit skyscrapers in their full splendor. There was one, I don't know the name, but it was so tall, and it had this lattice work of steel beams built into a pyramid at the top, all of which was illuminated. Stunning to say the least. I would find my eyes going back to that massive building again and again the next day while with my coffeehost. To the point of a light mocking even, hehe. Couldn't be helped.
Anyway, Midtown in Atlanta has some great venues, and I found myself at Cosmopolitan/Lava Lounge.
The next day I rolled all my riding gear up into a ball and cargo netted it to my bike so that I could stroll Peidmont Park with my coffeehost and their friend. What a gorgeous park! And to see all the people running in it and enjoying it! I was filled with envy!
We made our way to a restaurant called Quattro that had very reasonably priced sandwiches, and dishes. Then it was on to downtown to see the World of Coke. The soda kind.
I must say that I was quite surprised by the modernness of Atlanta. Not as much as New Orleans mind you, but Atlanta was strikingly metropolitan, and I had not anticipated that.
I was also surprised, and mildly entertained to find that some people from Atlanta are quite loyal to Coca-Cola, beyond that of preference for soda, but almost to that of 'nationalism'. I liked that though, and could appreciate it.
Didn't end up having time to see the World of Coke as I had to meet that evening's couchhost at around 4 in nearby Decatur, so we went off to The Varsity, an old Drive-in from the first half of the century. We'd just eaten so we skipped all the food, even the oh-so-tempting onion rings, and ordered Frosted Oranges. SHABAM! Those were amazing! like drinking a bunch of blended orange Popsicle Pete creamsicles!
After that headed to Decatur and landed myself in The Brick House Pub, where any connoisseur of beer would be in heaven. Over 100 flavors of ales and.. umm, i don't even know what other types to call them, or if Ale covers them all... but as the gentleman beside me said, "Beer is the new wine", and it was apparent.
he also happened to be the owner of a BMW motorcycle from 1973 if I recall correctly. I parked beside it, and took some pictures. He was extremely flattered when upon realizing he was the owner, I pulled out my camera and showed him, no bluffing!
Either way, when my couchhost finished work, we headed over to Leon's Full Service, an old gas station and mechanic shop turned into a bar and eatery. Great place, great prices, fantastic decor, style, atmosphere, really enjoyed it. It was also here that my host was able to find the beer for me (after 5 failed attempts with samples at the Brick House... what can I say, I like "shit-beer" lol)
Being as both of us had been burning the candle at both ends as of late, we headed home and watched Chris Nolan's Memento. What a mind-job. I don't want to say anything as I don't want to ruin it for anyone, but what a fantastic movie. Same guy that did the new batman movies, The Prestige, and now Inception.
It just so happened my couchhost was also an artist, but of photography primarily. I only saw a couple of photos, some Corona's on a beach, but they were totally awesome. I hope their move to San Francisco helps their exposure because they deserve it.
Tonight, in Chattanooga, it's a quiet one. A time to reflect, and a time to rest. Although it's now nearly 2 as I complete this blogpost as much for myself as for you. This way I will always have the memories of this journey, and not just in the form of pictures.
I did make it downtown to the river walking path as was suggested to me, and this was yet another well taken care of city park.
I felt inspired once again; this time, to go tomorrow and purchase a good pair of running shoes. My time is short, but I miss running, and I don't get the amount of exercise I cherish and truly enjoy, so being as there most likely won't be long days of riding for quite some time, I should be able to get into town early enough to put some shoes to good use.
I look forward to that. Also discovered my camera seems to be functioning fine again and have begun taking more pictures when possible.
Had dinner at Buffalo Wings and... something.. meh.
Anyway, I'm tired, on to Nashville tomorrow, for a 3 o'clock appointment with Apple.. hoping to get my iPhone healed, or at the least, replaced.
Take care, Ride safe.
I left Anna Maria funbound for Saint Augustine with plans of seeing the old seaside fortress (saw the overhead satellite shots on google maps, really impressive structure!)... Wasn't exactly sure where I was going to stay.
I'd made reservations for Casa Yahalla Hostel, but immediately realized my first desire was Pirate Haus Hostel! Quickly I fired an email back to the confirmation email address; "My apologies, I do not wish to stay here any longer"
Moments later I receive a phonecall and my horrible motorolla droid doesn't ring, so I get a voicemail.
"Hey bud, why don't you wanna stay with us? We a crackhouse or something? If you can, give me a call and tell me what's up."
And the tone was very telling. This tool was personally offended. I could not believe the audacity! How unprofessional! To harrass a would-be or rather wouldn't-be client!
The phone call didn't get much better. He immediately jumped on the defensive and informed me that he was a 25 year marine vet and that he kept a SPOTLESS hostel. That wasn't the point, I simply had prioritized to stay at the other hostel and wanted to see if they had vacancy before commiting to his. Well apparently he was on good terms with the other guy and he'd make sure this was all sorted out with him or something to that effect. Great, now I couldn't go to either hostel. I kept my calm on the phone while explaining to this guy that his message was horribly inappropriate, and that you just don't do that, you take the news with a grain of salt. But I suppose the season's been tough on him? And he argued and insisted and argued that he had NEVER mentioned crackhouse. I still have the message on my phone. I listen to it when I need a laugh, and I play it at bars for groups of people who get a kick out of crazy people. It's becoming a real party favorite, lol!
So the next morning I call the guy at Pirate Haus and even though I used my middle name, at the use of my last name, he seemed to perk up, and the undertone was "yeesss... We've been expecting yooouuu...." like when James Bond meets the villian or something.
Crap, I can't stay there either! But I have to!!! It might be fun!! this will be interesting!!!
However, as I traveled down I-4 seeing all the signs for Disney World, and Sea World, and Universal Studios, I knew what had to be done! I had to scrap Saint Augustine altogether and stay in Orlando!!
I went to The Mcdonald's Entertainment Center, the largest in the world... Some of it really needed updating, like that old piano playing guy with the Moon for a face that I remember from commercials as a child, but overall, incredible experience... and a whole McCafe menu as well.
By the time I got settled in, it was already 6 and Universal Studios theme park shuts down at 8 or so. At $110 per ticket, it no longer seemed worth it. But I expected the nightlife in Orlando to be entertaining. And it was! Tuesday night, and there were still a handful of bars and pubs crammed with people!
While in search for a different venue, one where a guy can shake what his momma gave him, I came across not one but a handful of homeless men, all holding their own corner, all asking for money for food. I don't buy it, I don't care if they sound sincere, I don't give out money. "Are you really hungry?" I asked the fellow. He sounded legit. I went to the very next pizza to get him some. I was in a bit of a hurry, and the guys behind the counter found it hard to believe I was there just getting pizza for some one. "I don't know what kind, what's the cheapest? okay, cheese it is".
It came with a roll, which I gave to the first homeless guy. He thanked me but tucked it away on the ledge. "You're supposed to eat that!" "I'm gonna save it..."
Didn't sound real to me. But whatever, the real objective was one slice of cheese pizza to one times homeless guy.
Mission Accomplished. And he seemed genuinely grateful, unlike "roll-boy".
One place had quite a ruckus coming from inside. Lots of bass. The cover charge was STEEP.. but it must have been worth it right? You get what you pay for?
Anyway, not that I'm a racist, not even remotely, but I am also not an idiot. Even though I get along with everybody.. mostly... I knew being the only white guy, and standing out at 6'4", it was looking exactly like something Steve Martin would have done in The Jerk... lol... So I left. And although I enjoy hip hop, I'm more about the top40 variety, and not the gangster rap type.
I met some Canadians at another place that was also jumping. Can't remember the name of the place, but it was a fantastic place!
Oh the ride to downtown was awesome. I was again, as always while IN TOWN, squidding... No suit, no helmet, just a pair of Orange tinted sunglasses to keep my precious eyeballs in tact. It was a real trip, every head light was orange every yellow light was orange, every green light was nearly orange, every red light was dark orange, it was a real hoot screaming down the street doing 65 in a 50 (115 in a 80).
Squidding today from De Land to Daytona to get my tires changed (12,000 kilometers have been put on these ones! WOW), I was doing only 140 or so, kmh... and it was a real workout just to keep my face taut, and from flapping in the wind like the old clips you see of guys in wind tunnels. The thought of my jowls jiggling violently made me laugh aloud and the second my mouth opened, air rushed in, making a mouthful of saliva spray down the left side of my face! God that made me laugh even harder, fortunately, I was all dried out.
On the way back, I had to go through the smallest amount of rain. Felt like bullets hitting my bald scalp and gentle face. Now I know why most squids still wear the helmet.
Oh, word to the wise, International House of Pancakes is not worthy of such a title. Not that great. Should probably be reduced to "Regional House of Pancakes", or maybe even "Rural House of Pancakes"... The picture of New York Cheese Pancakes looked so goddamn delicious!! What appeared before me was quite lacking. I will go back only one more time; to try the creem stuffed frenchtoast. and that will be all.
Tonight, I venture back into Orlando.
Part B - Day 48 - Faith in Humanity
Putting two blogs together because I didn't post before going on more adventures. But I need sleep so I'm gonna summarize which we all know I can't do very well!
Orlando, again, amazing. Went to a place down on Orange called Urban Flats, which serves italian influenced 'pizza' or 'flatbread' as well as a variety of emaculate salads. Get the Park Salad, walnuts and spinach and goat cheese... Orgy in your mouth time. Seriously.
Beside me sat a young couple with a girlfriend, a baby in a stroller, slumbering amidst the noise. A foil 'happy birthday' helium balloon tied to the canopy. It was the mother's birthday. Now I've been around a while and we all know that we appreciate nice things on our birthday and women ESPECIALLY appreciate being treated nice. So as soon as the mother and wife was away from the table I asked the husband and father "Hey, it's your wife's birthday?.. May I buy her a drink? I feel charitable... Okay what's she having..."
Shortly thereafter, she returned, followed by her drink. She was ecstatic. Sort of a "I still got it" swagger going on. Even though of course, I meant nothing of the sort, but I knew it'd be a happy addition to her night. And it was. And I felt good.
Naturally she introduced me to all her friends who showed up 20 minutes later. That was not my plan, I swear, lol... And soon thereafter she began singing some sort of latin opera. Beautiful...
I left to explore the night further and met even more good characters. But not before having the last few pieces of my 'flatbread' boxed so that I could give it to a seemingly deserving homeless man outside. And I ran into the same fellow I gave a slice of 'za to the night previous! "Do you get your mail here, man?" he laughed. I gave him the pizza. He was grateful. And like at the end of a date when you depart, but you look back to see if they're looking, I looked back. Except obviously this was not the same thing. However, he was looking my way, chomping down on the gourmet pizza and smiling, giving me the thumbs up of approval. I was touched. I was touched that for a small period in some one else's life, I touched them.
The night was great, Orlando is a hoot. I'd love to go back. Oh, also met Cory Turnball, Australian Wakeboarding champ. The guy was a riot! Trying to wrassle up some american tail he was... Maybe too enthusiastically lol...
Today I ventured on to Jacksonville. I had the pleasure of meeting my host who had left me his home and all possessions to use and I quote "as your own"... Such generosity, incredible. I won't go into too much detail because he struck me as the modest type, but such a good guy... Again, so blessed by my experiences. I will do my best to repay him if ever desired in the future.
Was pulled over for speeding by a ghost car. Stupid me, I went by him at a normal pace and could have just examined the typical ghost car make and model. Even looking at the occupant would have been a dead giveaway. Anyway, Once I left him and the other two vehicles, I sped away at 90. Didn't even realize he was pursuing me til he was right behind me, lol! But he was a detective or something who wanted to avoid paperwork and went for the kilometers on the speedometer excuse and claimed he couldn't even run in my license. Well, perhaps not being highway patrol he couldn't.
I skipped Saint Augustine as I passed it on the highway, somewhat dissapointed. But the fortress is a few hundred years old, it will last a few more decades and I'll see it later, just like the Grand Canyon.
Grabbed a motel, my coffee host was busy with work problems, but suggested the bars in Jacksonville beach. The beach is actually 30 miles away, if not more. But my goodness, it puts to shame anything that might be happening in downtown.
If you're under 25, check out Ocean Club, not a bad scene, but not for me. My bartender whispered that The Ritz would be my thing. And let me tell you, it was. If you ever find yourself down this way, and you're seeking a nice pub type atmosphere, mid 20 to mid 30 people all having a great sociable time, this is the place. Not much in the way of dancing, but if you enjoy stimulating conversation, you can hear yourself think. Met some really good people here. Great night.
Later on though, going back to my motorcycle (squidded again..) I found that someone had not only stolen my brand new GPS, but also the mount for it (not to mention my $12 orange tinted glasses).
I really want to try and remember all the good that has come on this journey, and I'm trying hard. But for someone to steal a navigational device? It's awful. I've had no problems until just now. Why couldn't they have just taken the GPS? Why tear the whole thing off? Probably cause they knew if the guy who owned the bike saw them, he'd tear them two new assholes and command they shit on the spot. Smart on their part. Cause they're right.
It's worth the $100 convenience to not have to carry all that crap around with me. But another $200? The budget is feeling tight.. but thank god I have money in the bank. I'll buy another one tomorrow and see about finding another RAM-Mount... Might be tricky.
Take care, ride safe.
So this one should be pretty quick.
Last day here in Anna Maria.
I'm not gonna lie, it's be relaxing... but I didn't need relaxing, I need sun 'n' fun on a beach resort full of people my age... and a chance to not do 180 miles a day on a motorbike.
What I have is paradise for senior citizens with great dividends from their 401k accounts.
It's quiet, peaceful, noise curfews of 10pm keep people from being loud on the beach (including wedding receptions that have no option but an outdoor hall meaning no parties going past 10), and a Zero tolerance on alcohol on the beach.
But, it does have some good eating at Beach Bistro (my meal was 95$ with a tip... after an appetizer you only need one small order entree... two will leave you stuffed)... Had to go back tonight to have dessert. Robert DeNiro has eaten there as has Sally Jassie Rafeal... great place. The Sandbar Restaurant was alright...
Anyway, this portion of the trip... for awhile now I guess... has started to feel like... The Empire Strikes Back. A little anti-climatic... if not toned down.
Many factors contribute I'm sure (huge into self-analysis and over-analyzing). This trip is long. Although I've met great people, I've left behind great people at home as well. The constant riding pains me - this break has been needed.. and welcome - And I'm also unable to keep up my usual regime of workouts which keeps my mind healthy and my body feeling well.
I foresaw this feeling occurring. I mean who expects 3 months to be NON-STOP INCREDIBLE... well, okay, truthfully, I'd hoped.
Not only did George Lucas write The Empire Strikes Back to be what it was and to have the mood it did.. but Mark Hamill as you may know to be Luke Skywalker was battling an addiction to heroine as well as a party life he wasn't prepared for as a young actor. Princess Leia, Cari Fischer was also having bouts with nose-candy, and Darth Vader reportedly was sodomizing young boys after autograph signings.
BUT, 'always look at the bright side of life' goes the song.
Tonight I happened upon Steve Sudnik, former Detroit Redwing who's played alongside Bill Gadsby and Gordie Howe. Great guy, similar personality to myself I guess. Anyway, he gave me his email and said to stay in touch and to let him know a bit about my business after telling me a bit about his life. Really great guy, down to earth. Best of all, he GOT the allure of Romania as a potential touring country, lol!
Anyway, in a couple days I'll be in Orlando, slight change of plans, very welcome.
It's starting to feel like... the RETURN.. OF THE JEDI...
Take care, ride safe
ps: sorry no pics, my battery was dead again... and haven't taken it out much around here.
I pulled into Tallahassee... It had been raining cats and dogs. I was soaked... and hungry.
I've decided to add a few chain restaurants to my repertoire while on this trip. I don't consider it wasting cuisine opportunities, I consider expanding my Ameican cultural awareness... So I've decided on a day I don't foresee much dinner potential, I'd hit a Waffle House and an IHOP (International House of Pancakes).
So I see a Waffle House as I enter Tallahassee and experience tells me that for a state capital, not too much will be going on tonight. No offense to any Tallahasseeans here but firstly, I don't know what you're called and 'tallahasseeans' is wrong, lol, but I'm sure there's some great things in your city, I just didn't see anything blatantly obvious pulling in or riding around. And the clerk at my Motel 6 laughed when I asked him to suggest something incredible I should see. He may not have been a member of the cultural elite though.
Waffle House had filled my mind with visions of belgian waffles piled sky high and covered with whip cream and diced bananas and cherries with chocolate sauce topped off with a gastrol intestinal orgasm...
I saw two types of waffles on the menu.. normal, and buttermilk-low cal. I could add some ingredients, so I chose chocolate and pecans. Then found they were added to the batter before being pressed into eternity.
'Waffle House' is totally misleading. It should legally have to change it's name to "All-American Diner' or something. They served all meals for the day, put very little emphasis on waffles, and looked like any quintessential diner you see in movies.
In their defense I will say this... Best waffle I ever had for under $3. And I told the cook that. He was a screaming tribute to retired military line-cooks all over the nation. I didn't tell him that though. He may have taken it the wrong way.
After the breakfast I asked which movie theater to go to, Regal 12 or Movies 8... "which is better?" meaning which has better video and sound quality, right? Well, my waitress admitted she hadn't seen a movie in a long long time, and the other waitress rarely goes but usually goes to Regal 12 and "it's good"... here I am feeling sorry for myself at the thought of a night with out finer dining and a chic ultralounge with a good dj to hear on a Thursday night, and these good folks can rarely afford to see a movie. Shame on me. I should appreciate everything.
After settling in at the motel, and with the rain having stopped during my breakfast, I decided to peruse the town for something to do that night. I rode down around College street, the campus, the capital buildings so many times police probably had an APB out on my bike and I as a possible terrorist scouting targets. However, I found no restaurants, lounges, or nightclubs that tempted me to strike.
It was to be the greatest of all movie nights!!
I hate watching movies while on a vacation. What a waste, to do something you can do in your home town, or after 4 months, in your own home after the blu-ray release... But being as this vacation is so long, and that it did not seem that I would be missing anything, I headed to the theater.
SALT - Starring Angelina Jolie... interesting story, neat twists, decent action scenes, a little too much CGI. I'll give it a 55%
THE OTHER GUYS - starring will farrell and Markie Mark and the funky bunch... With cameos from Samuel L Jackson and The Rock. This was definitely funny with some awesome scenes, and moments. Hats off to Samuel L and Rock... they were hilarious. Sometimes I find myself waiting for Will Farrell's punchline. You know what I mean, when he does his verbal dialogues where he continues on and on while dryly saying strange but humorous things. Well, I always feel I'm sitting there with my mouth half open in anticipation to laugh hysterically, and usually I'm left with a flaccid chuckle coming out. And hearing Mark Wahlberg reciting some of these, not so much. But for the most part, entertaining, which is what I wanted. 70%
DINNER FOR SCHMUCKS - Starring Steve Carrell and Paul Rudd. This movie had some really hilarious moments! Having the dude from Flight of the Concords in it was an awesome addition! He's hilarious! (I felt sorry for his skinny sidekick from their duo though... where's he then if this guy is in hollywood? Uh ooohhhhhh....) There were moments though where I found the movie just painful! You know you're supposed to laugh but you are so ANGRY at the idiot ruining the guys life that you don't want to watch anymore! There's another movie like this, but I think it was the main character.. I forget... Anyway, 75%
Wow, three movies in one day... I deserve an award!
Speaking of which, I signed up for Twitter... my profile name is LongRider81... Follow me, I promise, I will tweet often and tweet hilarity. (No refunds)
The next day I made my way to Gainesville. I guess I had left my helmet down so it was resting on the neck foam... which was unable to air out. It smelt like rotting fish. Horrible... Now it's aired out and dried properly. Hopefully when it gets wet or sweated into after this it won't go back to smelling horrible.
Gainesville was a lot of fun. I lucked out and passed a cheap motel near downtown that didn't show up on a google map search for MOTEL... but showed up when their actual name Rush Lake Motel was entered.... too bad for them! They matched Motel 6's rate which was 4 miles out of downtown. Good by me!
Went out in the pouring rain and wearing a gortex jacket and cargo pants, my pants were SOAKED! ALERT! ALARMA!! CHECK YOUR PHONE!! Okay, working.. dry it off... still good.
Noticed some people all sitting around having laughs so I introduced myself and was welcome warmly to the table. They were all veterinary students. Good thing, because I had rabies.
I asked what restaurant would serve something that made me remember Florida, ya know, like gator or something. But they said 'Pizza'... from Satchel's. Because it's definitely a different experience. Well this one dude, said get a calzone cause they're so good, and the salads are good too. I assumed he meant get both. My golly... the calzone was so massive I was stuffed finishing it. It was probably a foot long! I didn't even start the salad. I brought it with me in hopes of eating it for breakfast.
And it was early enough that I would get to catch the new blockbuster all-star cast movie, THE EXPENDABLES - Starring Rocky, Jet Li, the guy from Snatch, Dulph Lundgren, The UFC guy, Mickey Rourke, Bruce Willis, some black guy, and a cameo by a special somebody which I don't want to ruin the surprise of. I expected an over the top laugh-at-ourselves-and-our-careers-built-on-awful-hokey-action-movies... But I was shocked and dismayed to find the movie was a failed attempt by Sylvester Stallone to write and direct a smart big budget action movie... No hamming it up, no laughing at themselves, not much anyway... like they tried to rekindle everyone's careers with a legitimate film. FAIL! The action was pretty bland, the plot was awful, the development of the story ridiculous. 10% No seriously.
After that I found myself at Status, a trendy club filled with booming house and mixed top 40 music... awesome time.
The next day I ventured on to where I am staying now for a few days of R'n'R from this epic journey, Anna Maria. It's the northern point of an island and it's very nice, and quite peaceful. Well, hey, I wanted "rest and relaxation" but I'm not dead yet... unfortunately most of the island inhabitants and visitors are... Yes, this is the hotspot for retirees looking for beach fun and a chance to meander aimlessly in sand wearing bathing suits without having to worry about the slender, shapely bodies of the youth or the noise they often create to make disturb their time.
But I made the most of soft sand and sun, and ran the entirety of the beach. Look it up on googlemaps; Anna Maria, Florida. Zoom in, I started by Spruce St and ran north til I hit the house built out to the water, then ran south til parallel to 3012 F Ave near 31st ave... then had to run back.
Oh and at one point, near death by thirst, I saw a 'Beach Bistro', and knew here surely I could get some water.
Then I saw the valets... Oh well, they stared at me in awe as I wandered into this place. Dark oak tables, fine china, elegant crystal... Yeah, standing sandy footed in nothing but Billabongs, this was the right place to get a bottle of water. I approached the bar "I can't serve you! You have no shirt on!" "...and...no shoes..." said his waiter with genuine sorrow.
"Well then serve me from outside, because I have money and I want to buy some bottle water"
And they did. It was fancy, cost 4 dollars, came in glass...
Then I made a reservation with the hostess. All she had left for some one of my... social status... was 9:15. "That will be fine"... My foot was in the door.
I called back later and changed the reso to Sunday at 7pm. That's more like it. This time I'll be dressed appropriately. lol
Oh well, I will rest, relax, and restore.. this is the mid point of my journey and I've earned it.
Appreciate everything.
Take care, Ride safe
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