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Hawk's Nest, Delaware River

Every year, the largest motorcycle rally in the world is held near Lake George, New York. This year an event rivaling Americade in significance if not size was held near Liberty, NY centered around the "Bulldog & Meesh" garage.

For several days preceeding Americade, GL1800 riders, VTX riders, and other invitees were treated to spectacular hosted rides through some of the most scenic roads in the east. In addition, there were social events including a prime rib dinner at the Candlelight and a cookout at the Fireman's Park.

I had ridden down from the Detroit area on Friday with "Hitman" from Windsor and "HiYoSilver" of Rochester Hills. It was a soggy, overcast day interrupted by stops at Tim Horton's and an off-road excursion following a missed off ramp. We followed Frank's GPS to The Candlelight Restaurant in time for dinner with a few dozen fellow Wing riders and then found our way back to the Days Inn in Liberty.

Along the way we got our first taste of the local back roads. Deer came out to greet our party of about 25 bikes as dusk fell. They stood and stared from the edges of the road as the line of quiet touring bikes snaked past and disappeared around the next curve. Back at the motel, riders thanked our impromptu guides and were told the ride was only a teaser for what was to come. They were right!

Saturday Sam had to head back to Windsor for a family emergency. (Everybody is ok now). Frank and I were priveleged to join a group of about 15 bikes led by George and his beautiful wife Cindy. Our guides rode VTX 1300s and were very knowledgable about the history, geography and other aspects of the area. They took us on a beautiful ride along narrow, two lane, twisty roads in the Big Indian area. For several hours we enjoyed the rivers, reservoirs, hills and valleys leading to Woodstock where we stopped for lunch. We only rarely encountered a car which allowed a very "spirited ride" as Yellow Wolf alludes to from time to time. Often the route felt more like a roller coaster than a road.

Saturday afternoon, we rejoined the other groups at Bulldog and Meesh's house for some more tire-kicking. Then it was off to another feast, this time a cookout with live music compliments of fellow rider Soloquest. The food was outstanding, the company was great, and the entertainment was better than we deserved! Soloquest could take the stage anywhere and be a hit.

Sunday was another gorgeous day. While another day of local rides was being arranged, Frank and I headed for Michigan. We went south on 42 to the Pennsylvania border to check out the Hawk's Nest area, (featured in numerous car and bike advertisements). We took the the obligatory pictures overlooking the Delaware River then struck out in a generally west direction. We had now run out of maps and the GPS had failed. Keeping the sun more or less to our left we found Route 6 and started eating up the miles. Route six is a secondary road in good condition with lots of opportunities to test the leaning limits of a Gold Wing. Traffic was light and the mile slipped away as we crossed Pennsylvania along the northern tier.

Hitting Ohio is always a little decompressing after the hills and curves of "3D" states. With storms threatening, we stopped for the night in Ashtabula. A call home confirmed we had made a good call. High winds and hail knocked out power in large parts of SE Michigan while we snored the night away in peace.

Monday the sky was gray but the Weather Channel showed only isolated thunderstorms. In the interest of time we took 90 west to Route 2. We zigzagged through downtown Cleveland for a while and saw some nice views of Lake Erie and the port. Once we were out of town Route 2 becomes typical midwest travel. Flat, cultivated fields, and constant wind. Everything in Norther Ohio leans to the east because of the wind. The trees, telephone poles, even old barns have a permanent list to the east. Everything that is except pedestrians and motorcycles which tend to lean to the west to compensate. Altogether sort of a Dr. Suess kind of condition.

At any rate, Monday was a day to make tracks, and we did. The concrete canyon of construction along route 280 north was exciting with large trucks crowding the narrow detour. Once we hit I-75 the trip was almost over. I turned off at 94 and Frank continued north with a wave and it was time to try to tell spouses what can't be described in words. The pictures help. The welcome, the rides, and the scenery have to be experienced.

Thanks to Bulldog, Meesh, and all who helped put CatsCade together. Hope to see you next year!