From Lexington, Kentucky! Home! Home Sweet Home! 0 miles from home!

Today was a rather good day. There was a nasty fog this morning as you can see from this "Welcome to Indiana" sign:

The fog hung on until noon. Most of the time it was mixed with a miserable drizzle and sometimes a light rain. But I had my rain gear on and didn't get wet at all.

Y-I-K-E-S!!!  P-I-P-E-S!!!!

Almost every state welcome sign is in a difficult place to take a photograph. It looks like they would realize people want to take the snapshot and make a convenient pull-out so it would be safe. When I arrived in Kentucky, I had to park on the sidewalk to get this pic.

I arrived home about 3:30, and Sarah was waiting on the porch. She knew because she had been following me on the Garmin site. She used it regularly to keep up with me throughout the day. Sometimes I would call her and say, "I have arrived for the night." And she would say, "I know. I just saw that on the gps." If I dallied too long somewhere, she would text and ask, "What's going on? You are not moving." She has enjoyed being able to know exactly where I was, and I have felt it comforting to know that someone knew where I was and would know if something went wrong.

Here was my route:

I have added the necessary line to show that I left Andy's house near Easton, Maryland on Tuesday, May 30. I had my first motorcycle failure on Friday, June 2. I didn't start again until Sunday, September 3, and finished on Monday, October 9.

So I did it - coast to coast (4,888 miles) and the commute back home (2,638 miles), for a total of 7,526 miles on a 200 cc motorcycle.

I spent 29 days riding an average of 7 hours per day making an average of 260 miles per day at an average speed of 37 mph.  (Good grief! That's worse than I thought.)

When I got home, I told Sarah I was ready to sell the bike. I didn't think I could sit on it any more! But I don't know. I'll give it a few days before I decide what to do with it.

Just think of sitting on this little bike for 203 hours going 37 mph! That's what I did. But hey! It's done now, and all I have left is to celebrate and remember.

So the big question is "Why?"

Why did I do it?

Well....
Because it was out there.
Because somebody had to.
Because I was bored.
Because it was a challenge.
Because it was an adventure.
Because I didn't have anything better to do.

I don't know!

I guess I did it so I could have the following three photographs:

As a matter of fact, I am quite proud of those three photos.

And I think it was well worth it. Don't you?

From Tuscola, Illinois. 287 miles from Lexington! One day! One more day of this trip! About a seven hour ride for me, plus one hour for the time zone change. And the weather looks doable. Wow! I'm ready.

It's been a good day today with clear skies for me. It started cool at 53 degrees, but warmed up to 80 before the day was over. The only problem was a pretty stiff south wind, but it was not too bad. I saw a lot of other people riding motorcycles on this lovely Sunday afternoon.

I stopped at Roseville (population 971) to get gas and passed the First Baptist Church:

The sign said their service was to start at 10:30, just 15 minutes later. So I talked myself into staying for church. After I parked my bike where I took this picture, I spotted a black lady walking up the sidewalk to church. I thought, "Oh, African-American First Baptist Church. No problem, I'll try that."

I introduced myself to Marie and noticed that she spoke with a French accent. Turned out she was from Togo in West Africa. I asked if was Okay if I came to church. She, of course, welcomed me kindly. Then I asked, "How long does the service usually last?" I understand that many black church services go on for two hours or more. But she replied, "About an hour - from 10:30 to 11:30." That was good news. Then when we entered the door, I realized that Marie's family was the only black family in this church!

But everyone was very kind and welcoming. They invited me to the coffee time just off the sanctuary, and I enjoyed a good donut and a glass of chocolate milk. Perfect!

There was a total of 21 people in worship today. Here's a little over half of the group.

Alan Jackson led us in the first hymn - a blend of "Are You Washed In the Blood?" and "I'll Fly Away." Yes, THAT Alan Jackson... via a recording. All the music was recorded, but everyone seemed to like it and sang along as best they could.

When Pastor Dwight stood to preach, he announced that he was preaching on immigration:

I was a bit surprised that he was dealing with such a sensitive subject, but he did very well with it. His main point was that we don't have to condone it when illegal immigrants break the law to come here, but God loves all of us whether we break the law or not. He said our job is love them regardless of what they have done. After all, he said, that's how God loves us. I thought it was a very good sermon and well-delivered.

And at the very end of the service, he said the benediction and included special prayers for safe travels for their guest - Mickey. How about that? I got prayed for!

But I had miles to go, so I excused myself after worship and hit the road again. This is agriculture country, as has been a lot of what I have seen across the country. It's actually quite unbelievable just how many farmers there are in America.

The soybeans are ready for harvesting all the way to the horizon:

But mostly I saw people harvesting their corn and carrying it to the mill.

I stopped in Lincoln, Illinois, to get gas. While I was there, a parade of 25 fire trucks went by with no explanation of the purpose of their parade. Here was the end of the parade:

But really, there was only one thing on my mind all day - getting closer to home. And I made exactly as many miles as I could today. The front that is bringing a pouring rain to Lexington today extends all the way to Indianapolis. I stopped at Tuscola, and if I had gone ten more miles I would have been in the rain again. But as it was, I had sunshine all the way.

Oh, I should end by giving you the quiz I thought about while riding today:

What's the first thing you do when you get to a gas station on a motorcycle?

Put your credit card in the gas pump?

Important, but no.

Take the gas cap off the tank?

Nope.

Put the kickstand down?

Nope.

Turn the motorcycle key off?

Nope.

I give up.

Go get some water and a paper towel to wash the dead bug smears off your face shield.  That's the first thing, and the most important. On warmer days like today, the bugs are on a suicidal mission. After several black blobs appear on my face shield, I usually try to wipe it clear with my glove. But that just smears the guts into a giant swath.  I try looking around and through the greasy mess one inch in front of my nose, but it is usually impossible. So after living with that for the next 40 miles, the first thing I do when I get to the gas station is wash my face shield.  Now you know.

All the best, and thanks for your interest. What are you going to do to entertain yourself after tomorrow??

From Ottumwa, Iowa. 569 miles and 1 hurricane from Lexington. That should take only TWO days if the hurricane stays out of my way.

Have you missed me? I've been in suspended animation for six days. Waiting. Waiting. And waiting. I arrived in Norfolk, Nebraska for the first time last Sunday late. Then I left Monday morning, hoping to make 400 miles toward home, but was back in Norfolk within two hours. But you read that story, didn't you?

I left the motorcycle at B & B Cycle for the needed repairs. They told me it would be Friday when it was done. That left me to pace back and forth in a motel room for four days. As Carol suggested, I wore a path in the carpet.

During the first two days, I walked around town A LOT. And I happened upon this sign post:

It turns out that Johnny Carson went to high school in Norfolk, Nebraska and they have named a street for him. He was not born there, but he moved there when he was eight years old and graduated high school before joining the Navy, then attending the University of Nebraska for college.

I found this information on Wikipedia, so it must be true:

"Carson grew up and began developing his talent for entertaining. At the age of 12, Carson found a book on magic at a friend's house and immediately purchased a mail-order magician's kit. After the purchase of the kit, Carson practiced his entertainment skills on family members with card tricks. He was known for following his family members around saying, "Pick a card, any card." Carson's mother sewed him a cape, and his first performance was staged in front of the local Kiwanis Club. He debuted as "The Great Carsoni" at age 14 and was paid $3 a show."

After high school, he joined the Navy, where he looked like this:

Now THAT'S funny. I knew you would want to see that.

While walking around town, I also found these flowers in a traffic circle:

It was nice walking around town, and I did that a good bit the first two days. But then the rain set in, and it was wet, cloudy, and ugly for the rest of my stay. It rained three inches!

In fact, my bike was available Friday morning, but it was raining. I caught a dry hour and walked to B & B Cycle to get the bike, but it was raining by the time I rode back to the motel. I, of course, was eager to make some miles, but this was in my way so I had to stay an extra day:

Finally, this morning about 10 the weather cleared, and the sun came out. I still had to go two hours due south to drive around the rain storms. But I had a lovely ride today after the sun finally came out. The bike ran great. The skies were clear. And I was welcomed to yet another state:

And I even got to see the wood carving of the Indian Chief Osceola in the picture at the beginning of this blog.

Now Lexington is supposed to get up to five inches of rain on Sunday into Monday. I am hoping that it moves through quickly so that I can arrive home on Monday. We'll see.

Thanks for your interest in this prolonged journey. I must admit that I am ready for it to be over! After all, I left for the West Coast on September 3! It's time to be home!

From Norfolk, Nebraska... again. I'm getting used to this place.

I am writing just to let the curious know what's going on with the bike. I had spent the night debating about a million options of how to move forward here, including renting a car, having Sarah come get me, buying a new bike, etc. But it turns out that they can have the bike fixed by Friday, so I am staying over. The intake valve had broken off and caused some damage in the process. But the repair guy seems competent and the cost reasonable for the work, so I am staying here and killing time. I don't actually do that very well, so I am sure I need the practice. And I will be plenty rested by Friday.

I will update the blog when I am on the road again. Thanks for your interest.

From Norfolk, Nebraska... again. Oops! The bike broke down. No telling how many days from home now.

Well, it has happened a second time. This little bike has left me dead in the road.

I left before daylight this morning hoping to ride 400 miles again today making me only one day's ride from home. All was well. Checked the oil. Filled the gas. I had made about thirty miles down the road, just past Wisner, when the bike suddenly died while going 50 mph. I knew that was a problem.

I coasted downhill to a driveway and pulled out of the road. I checked everything over, tried to start it several times, and like that time near Fayetteville, Tennessee, nothing. The last time it was a blown piston, likely due to being low on oil. This time I am sure it has plenty of oil. And gas. It cranks. It just won't start.

This, of course, is one of the great underlying fears of traveling alone by motorcycle. I fear the bike mysteriously dying in some very remote place. That's why I have the Garmin Search and Rescue Insurance just in case. Oh, and Triple A, as a resource.

After I checked the bike over and concluded I didn't know how to fix it. I called Sarah to let her know. While I was on the phone with her, I saw a truck pulling up the driveway. It was Don Ernesti on his way to work in his pick-up truck. I got off the phone and explained my predicament to Don.

He offered to take me back to Wisner where he knew a mechanic. I suggested maybe we could load the bike in the back of his truck so the mechanic could look at it. He said he had a better idea, and returned the 50 yards to his house and hooked up a trailer with loading ramp, just made for this kind of incident. That's him and the trailer in the picture above.

So within ten minutes of the breakdown, the bike was loaded on a trailer, and I was headed to a mechanic.

On the way, Don explained that he drove grain trucks for a living and often worked late, so his being late for work was no problem. Of course, he called in and explained what he was doing.

At the first mechanic, Jerry shook his head and said he didn't think he could work on it. Jerry suggested that we check with Troy who worked on bikes out of his garage at home. He was pretty good with motorcycles. So we headed across town, behind the Lutheran Church, to Troy's house. When Don knocked on the door, I saw a hand pull the curtain aside, but Troy never came to the door. Don suggested that Troy may think we were bill collectors. Troy has been down on his luck lately and was not working.

So Don suggested another mechanic who worked on big trucks. But the lady who ran the office there shook her head, and explained that they couldn't work on motorcycles.

I was surprised at both turn-downs because this engine is as simple as a lawnmower. I figured anybody who could take apart an 18-wheeler could work on something as simple as a lawnmower, but apparently not.

An older man at that shop talked a while to Don, and suggested that the thing to do was to go back to Norfolk and take the bike to the Yamaha dealer. Wow! I didn't know they had one in Norfolk. That's where I spent the night last night.

Don had gone out of his way to get me to town AND to take me to three different places. And he was supposed to be at work. I didn't know how much this Good Samaritan could do, and told him so. I expressed appreciation for what he had done, and said I would figure out how to get to Norfolk. But he said that he could take me there, which was 30 miles away!

At Norfolk, we dropped the bike off at the Yamaha dealer, which was on the edge of town about a mile and a half from the motel I stayed in last night. The service guy said he would get to it as soon as he could and give me a call. Then Don took me back to the motel I had stayed in and let me out.

I thanked Don profusely and gave him cash enough to make it well worth his time. He would have been happy to have helped me with no reward, but I insisted that he take my gift. It was worth it to me! In fact, it was a bargain to have been bailed out so quickly and effectively. I could not have asked for better.

So within an hour or so, I had the bike at a Yamaha dealer - the best possible place to have it fixed, whatever is wrong with it. And I was checked back in at the motel to await the verdict. I was healthy. The bike was getting fixed. How could it have worked out any better?

When I called Sarah again, I said I sure was lucky for being in such an unlucky position.

Which, of course, reminds me of my favorite joke which I have to tell again. It's from Boys Life Magazine in 1955, the best I recall. I can't believe I remember a joke from that long ago, but it's true. It goes like this:

A man was flying in an airplane. Unluckily, the airplane engine died. Luckily, he had a parachute. Unluckily, the parachute did not work. Luckily, there was a hay stack below him. Unluckily, there was a pitchfork in the haystack. Luckily, he missed the pitchfork.

Unluckily, he missed the hay stack.

I think that is a very funny story, and a little like my story:

Unluckily, my bike broke down unexpectedly. Luckily, it died in the driveway of Don Ernesti. Luckily, he had a trailer. Luckily, he was willing to help me get back to Wisner, two miles away. Luckily, he was willing to take me all over town trying to find someone to look at the bike. Luckily, he was even willing to drive me thirty miles away to Norfolk to the Yamaha dealer. Luckily, he was willing to drive me to the motel.

Oh the whole, I consider myself a very lucky guy!

So I went across the street to kill the time and get a good breakfast at Perkins Restaurant. I walked in the door and saw this sign:

Luckily, I arrived at Perkins on FREE PIE DAY. And luckily, they serve free pie after breakfast. I had French Silk Chocolate! Yum.

I don't know what the verdict on the bike will be. I am not expecting an easy fix. But you never know. It could be ready this afternoon. It could be that they have to order parts that will take a few days to come in. It could be it could take a couple of weeks. I will just have to wait and see, and adjust my plans according to what the verdict is. Nothing to do but wait.

As my friend Terry from Pikeville always says, "It was going too easy." Not so easy anymore. But all is well. I will figure out the next step of this adventure when I get the verdict on the bike. Meanwhile, I am in a motel with my feet up watching TV after having a good breakfast and pie, and getting the rest I so desperately needed.

Hey! It's an adventure, isn't it?

From Norfolk, Nebraska. 876 miles from Lexington. Two, maybe three, riding days from home. That will depend on the weather first of all, and on my level of exhaustion on the second part. I'm getting pretty tired at this point of the journey, and pretty ready to be home and have this journey over with.

Today, I only rode about 200 miles because I took the morning to rest and to go to church. The members of Valentine Presbyterian Church were very kind to welcome a stranger in all his motorcycle gear. Pastor Karen was preaching her last sermon at the church, and it was a very gracious and inspiring message. Pastor Karen has a wonderful speaking voice and way of saying phrases that made them meaningful. But best of all, she could sing. Every preacher should be able to sing. I never could. Her unique ability helped to lead in worship, plus she sang two special songs which were wonderful.

I always like to find a special message just for me in the service. Today it came from the words to a hymn I did not know, but here are the words I liked:

They kindly invited me to stay for lunch, but I had miles to ride before I rested, miles to ride before I rested. It was another windy day, but not quite such strong winds as yesterday. It was coming from the south, and I was headed generally southeast to east. When the road turned southeast, I got the stiff wind on my chest and the bike slowed. When the road turned east, the wind hit my back, and I was rushing forward again.

It was only a four hour ride, so it wasn't bad. And the temperature was 69-74. Now that's good weather to ride in. I missed the huge thunderstorm that came through during the night last night. I was glad for that. And today was mostly sunny. But the forecast for tomorrow is for 70% chance of showers and thunderstorms. So far it looks like the rain will come in the afternoon, and there is a chance I might get far enough east that it won't hit me at all. That makes planning my day difficult. Not sure where I will be staying. I'll check the weather again in the morning and make final plans.

The bike is running great. The old man riding the bike is not doing as well. I am not as young as I used to be. I would love to make two long days and be done with this, but I am not sure my body will hold up for that. We'll see. But just think. When I get home, I can rest all I want!

Thanks for sharing the journey with me.

From Valentine, Nebraska. 1,061 miles from Lexington. I am hopeful that will be three riding days, but everything will depend on the weather.  And I sure wish that graphic had the tracks from Norfolk, Virginia, so that it would show coast to coast. I did not have my gps keeping the tracking points on that first section of my trip. When I get home, I will add some kind of lines to make the graphic complete, but I will have to have my home computer to do that.

This has been my longest ride at 475 miles.  I rode from 7 to 5:30 with a 20 minute break for lunch. But I didn't need the buttes to remind me of my butt this time. I just had to start that sentence with a "but." Snicker.

The wind was the story of the day. The forecast was for winds that were 15-25 mph with gusts of 33 mph. Wind is a problem for this little bike. Did I mention that it doesn't have much power? Going up a hill or going against the wind can really slow this bike down. The hill is obvious. But the wind is just as bad. Well, you can imagine it. If I am going 55 mph, then there is a 55 mph wind hitting me squarely in the chest since I don't have a windshield. But if you add a 25 mph wind to that, then there is an 80 mph wind hitting me square in the chest!

So I began the day thinking I may have to ride all day in fourth gear at 45 mph. I didn't think I would get very far. But after 30 minutes or so, I made a turn to the east, and the wind was coming from the southwest. That meant the wind was hitting me on the back corner of my shoulder, resulting in a nice push from behind. Suddenly I was cruising along at 58 mph and hardly using any gas! Nice!

It worked like that for most of the day, so I took advantage of it and stuck with the riding. Besides, it was a great day weather-wise, and I don't know how many of those I will get. It started out pretty cold at 41 degrees when I left Riverton, Wyoming, but warmed throughout the day, ending at 71 in Valentine. Gotta take advantage of that kind of weather too.

I could not help but think of my friend Terry from Pikeville. His favorite saying when working on a project with me was, "This is too easy!" He knew that problems were to be expected. Things usually do go wrong. And when nothing goes wrong, it is too easy! That's what I was saying all day. "This is too easy."

The bad news came when I got to my planned destination - Gordon, Nebraska. I had picked out a small motel in that small town because it got good reviews on Google. When I arrived, the place was out of business! That meant I had to ride an extra 90 miles to get to Valentine, Nebraska.

And that 90 miles was the worst of the day. Not, as you would think, because I was tired. I was actually feeling pretty good. But because the wind had shifted so that it came from the South instead of the Southwest. That meant the wind was either directly across my right shoulder or actually hitting my chest at an angle. And the wind had really started gusting - to 35 mph. That was enough to make the bike want to slide to the left on the road. When an 18 wheeler was coming, and I was slipping to the left, I really got nervous. I had to slow down to about 45 mph so that I had enough traction to keep from slipping so much. That was uncomfortable and made me nervous, but I still made pretty good time.

All in all it was a very good day. I'm glad I made so many miles when I could because there is some rain in the forecast for the next couple of days. I'll have to see if it is enough to stop me. Probably not, but we'll see.

But I did have bad news this evening when I got my camera out to download the pictures from it. I opened the back and discovered that there was no SD card! I had left the SD card in my laptop last night, so all the pictures I thought I took today I did not really take.  I didn't take very many anyway.

But I have a couple of interesting ones from left over from yesterday I'll share now.  I was cruising along when I saw this guy stopped on the side of the road going the other way, so I stopped to see if I could help.

I met Jacob riding a Suzuki Marauder. When I asked, he said he had a warning light come on regarding a sending unit. He said the bike was running fine, and he thought it was just a false signal or a wire loose on the warning light. He had decided to continue on his way to Oregon and then down the Baja California Penisula.

See? That's the deal with modern fancy motorcycles. You never know when a sending unit is going to go out or when you will get a false warning signal. I don't even know what a sending unit is or what it would send or where it would send it. I'm pretty sure my little simple bike doesn't send anything anywhere and certainly doesn't warn me about it. If it runs, it's good. If it doesn't run, something is broken. Pretty simple. I guess Jacob agreed. His bike was running so he was heading on down the road.

Then I stopped for gas and saw this guy pull up to the pump:

I don't know where I thought combines got their diesel, but I have never seen one at a gas station before. I talked to the owner standing there in the hat, and asked how much it would hold. He said about 50 gallons. I said my tank only held 1.8 gallons. He said, "I'll bet you get better mileage that I do though."

Well, it's been another good day on the road. Thanks for sharing it with me.