Dayton Trip – Day 4 – The Return
I realized that most of you could care less about old airplanes and I was probably boring you to tears with stuff about the museum. So in deference to that, I’m providing a link here to my gallery of shots so that those who want to can view them at their leisure and those that don’t can skip it and we’ll get on with the ride report.
I was up by five Am the morning after the museum. Michael was going to hang back and catch a shower before he hit the road home to Virginia. I’m seasoned enough by now that it only takes about ten minutes to police up all of my shit and get it on the bike. There was a cold snap to the air and it was probably down around 34F as I left the hotel and found my way onto the right highway heading north. I’d though briefly about cutting across the state to Wheeling, West Virginia to hit the Cabella’s store there but I was leaving early enough I’d hit them at around nine in the morning and they wouldn’t be open for another hour after that and waiting around was not going to be my plan for the day. So I got myself on I-71 and proceeded at speed.
Had I been leaving later in the day, I’d have taken my time and used the smaller less traveled highways but the sheer number of deer carcasses that littered the sides of the highways that I’d seen over the last few days tempered this path of action. To be honest riding on the interstate at five thirty in the morning still felt a bit risky. Sunrise wouldn’t be until around quarter past eight. And did I mention it was bloody cold? Cold enough that when I stopped for something to eat around seven, I put my rain gear over all of my other gear to try and warm up a bit. It actually did the trick and I started to warm up, though even with the insulated boots my feet were still feeling the chill.
Just after dawn broke, I stopped for some gas and a warm drink just outside of Akron. I also decided to wait for the sun to rise a little further in the sky in hopes it would warm up some. The was a local guy on a blue Goldwing with a side car on it out to enjoy the day in the parking lot. We chatted briefly before leaving the gas stop with him in the lead. I matched speed with him as I figured he knew what to look out for Cop wise in the local scene. On the other side of the city, he peeled off right and I kept on going. I-71 soon turns into I-76 which turns into the somewhat monotonous I-80. I stuck it out for about a third of the state and then headed north again on US-8 otherwise known as the Richard C Frame Memorial Highway. It took me up to Franklin, where I stopped to get some gas.
Both of the attendants on duty were obviously ex cons. The guy behind the till had three teardrops tattooed by the edge of his left eye. They hadn’t been filled in yet, so I’m guessing he’s still got those scores to settle. Full of fuel, I headed through town and on to US-417 Which I got some nice video of all the way to Titusville.
Outside of Titusville, I got on to US-27 which was starting to lead me once again through Amish country. It was pretty and rural with just enough twists, turns and changes in elevation to make it interesting. It was also starting to get warmer. Warm enough to consign the rain gear back to the depths of the pannier but not quite warm enough to lose the Columbia jacket underneath my high viz Tourmaster. At Pitsfield, I turned more directly north onto US-6 which forks right onto US-958 to Freehold Township and puts you right back on the NY Amish Trail. It was just before Freehold I had my only real traffic encounter of the trip. I’m coming up on a four way stop with a black pick up to my right and a red one to my left. For some reason, I know somethings going to happen which is strange because they both sat at that four way a long time before the red truck decided he was going to cross right in front of me. Easy on the rear brake to keep me lined up and squeezing the front break trying to bleed of speed so I don’t plant myself in his passenger side door. I passed behind his bumper with few too many feet to spare. It’s time like these I lament not purchasing that air horn.
After another brief stint on the Interstate (I-86 this time) it was back on US-62 and up to Buffalo customs and the easy ride home on the QEW.
It was a good trip even this late in the year.
But for now my bike sleeps and we dream of Spring together.
