Part 3: Leaving
Day 1
Day 1
The scene out our front window a few days before departure
We finally got away at 1 pm on the planned departure day. The
temperature had risen to three degrees and rain was pouring down. We had been
nervous for weeks, torn by conflicting emotions, and were torturing ourselves
by waiting for what seemed like an eternity after the planned departure time of
9:30.
Deirdre and Nyla had come to say goodbye and still it was only one degree outside. At first we had agreed it was going to have to be five degrees before we would leave but as time went by and the thermometer remained still our standards degraded. Three degrees was high enough to guarantee that there would be no ice on the roads, right? Actually leaving was proving to be difficult.
Load Planning
Ready for the unexpected
Dad inspecting the load the day before departure
Deirdre and Nyla had come to say goodbye and still it was only one degree outside. At first we had agreed it was going to have to be five degrees before we would leave but as time went by and the thermometer remained still our standards degraded. Three degrees was high enough to guarantee that there would be no ice on the roads, right? Actually leaving was proving to be difficult.
Mum at the Going Away Party
Shay, Christian, Isabelle, Mike, Dad
Leaving was difficult for other
reasons too. There had been two emotional family farewell events and numerous
smaller but no less difficult goodbyes. Lots of things could happen in a year to
us and to others. We were seeking positive changes in ourselves through the experiences of the trip but we hoped to return to things that were unchanged at home.
We realized that we hadn’t properly prepared ourselves for these strong and
conflicting emotions.
Our cold weather gear worked well. We were completely comfortable; the heated jackets were only set to low and the new wet weather gear actually kept out the rain! The uncomfortable part was the low visibility.
It was strange to see in the mist what looked like someone at the side of highway 416 waving his arms back and forth across his head. He had pulled off the road after passing us. It became clearer that his waving was directed at us. When he changed his gesture to two hands pushing downward (slow down!) I recognized our friend John. I downshifted, pulled over and stopped as quickly as I dared in the frigid soup on the road. John came over as I tried to pull down my balaclava and yellow glasses.
He said, “Is it you? When I saw the two motorcycles I said to my wife, ‘It has to be them.’”
Dad and Emma
Our cold weather gear worked well. We were completely comfortable; the heated jackets were only set to low and the new wet weather gear actually kept out the rain! The uncomfortable part was the low visibility.
It was strange to see in the mist what looked like someone at the side of highway 416 waving his arms back and forth across his head. He had pulled off the road after passing us. It became clearer that his waving was directed at us. When he changed his gesture to two hands pushing downward (slow down!) I recognized our friend John. I downshifted, pulled over and stopped as quickly as I dared in the frigid soup on the road. John came over as I tried to pull down my balaclava and yellow glasses.
He said, “Is it you? When I saw the two motorcycles I said to my wife, ‘It has to be them.’”
I said, “Yes, it’s me Terry, and yes only we would be crazy
enough to be out in this weather!”
"We knew you were leaving soon. What a terrible day to start an epic adventure!"
"We knew you were leaving soon. What a terrible day to start an epic adventure!"
That evening we arrived in Kitchener at my cousin Sylvia and her
husband John’s house. They were very
kind to feed us and to put us up for the night. We had a very pleasant visit and
chat with them. We slept well that night. Thanks
for giving us shelter in the storm, Sylvia and John. Enjoy your big upcoming
adventure!
Link to video
Day 2: Kitchener to Toledo
The next day began with a great breakfast. It was sunny and
cool (5 degrees) when we said goodbye to the Millers but soon the weather changed to a blustery, dark downpour.
We crossed the US border at Detroit unaware of the effect it was about to have on us. The interactions with local people Isabelle and I would have in the following days, while transiting the USA, would shape our perceptions and feed our anxieties. Stories and reactions of people we would meet would first confuse us; ultimately, they would allow us to construct a simple world view that would define our trip.
It began with a youthful US border Guard. At first his questions sought details to help him fulfill his professional duties. He asked where we were going and how long we planned to be in the US. Then his focus narrowed.
He paused, then asked with incredulity, “Are you really going to take your wife into Mexico? You must know it's dangerous there. Aren’t you worried for her safety?”
The border official seemed genuinely concerned. His curiosity marked the beginning of a week of questions and stories that would fill us with dread.
Leaving from Sylvia and John's Place
We crossed the US border at Detroit unaware of the effect it was about to have on us. The interactions with local people Isabelle and I would have in the following days, while transiting the USA, would shape our perceptions and feed our anxieties. Stories and reactions of people we would meet would first confuse us; ultimately, they would allow us to construct a simple world view that would define our trip.
It began with a youthful US border Guard. At first his questions sought details to help him fulfill his professional duties. He asked where we were going and how long we planned to be in the US. Then his focus narrowed.
He paused, then asked with incredulity, “Are you really going to take your wife into Mexico? You must know it's dangerous there. Aren’t you worried for her safety?”
The border official seemed genuinely concerned. His curiosity marked the beginning of a week of questions and stories that would fill us with dread.
Day 3 Getting Lost in Cincinnati
It was another day of rain with temperatures
between 3 and 7 degrees. We passed through 3 cities: Toledo, Cincinnati, Dayton
without really seeing much. Isabelle and I got separated in Cincinnati. I watch helplessly in my mirror as she followed an off-ramp around and
away from sight. It seemed like the flow of traffic
carried her around the corner as if she were floating in rapids on a raging
river.
Our biggest traffic fear had happened - separation. Our helmet communicators had just a kilometer of range, mere seconds really in those circumstances. I said into the mic, “Get off at the first exit and wait, I’ll find you!” and that was the last thing either of us heard over the air.
Our biggest traffic fear had happened - separation. Our helmet communicators had just a kilometer of range, mere seconds really in those circumstances. I said into the mic, “Get off at the first exit and wait, I’ll find you!” and that was the last thing either of us heard over the air.
I got turned around and backtracked a few exits then looped
back towards the spot where we had been separated. It took about ten minutes to get onto the off-ramp that had swept away Isabelle. To my relief, I heard Isabelle’s voice over the radio. She was rattling off street names but it was her bright rain jacket that I saw first.
She had parked, dismounted and positioned herself in a very visible
spot. Smart lady!
We checked into a Holiday Inn Express that evening, tired and stressed, only to discover
that the internet didn’t work in our room. We had spent the first three days of our journey riding
through a storm system, seeing little along the way. That third night
we saw on TV how lucky we had been to avoid the worst of the weather. Riding
through cities together had proven to be more difficult and stressful than anticipated and our luck with hotels had been spotty. We knew the trip wouldn’t be easy and that the challenges we
encountered were all part of the adventure. We told ourselves we would see easier days and bigger
challenges ahead.
Day 4 Louisville to Milan, Tenn.
What a difference sunshine can make! Positive vibes and
renewed energy from a good breakfast allowed for the doing of some bike
maintenance. I oiled Isa’s chain in the sunshine then checked the chain tension,
tire pressures and crankcase oil levels in both bikes. We rode a big distance
today and by the end of it we had each shed one of our four clothing layers,
the wind/waterproof one. We passed through Louisville, Nashville and Bowling
Green and settled into a small town called Milan in an area filled with European
place names.
We took a delightful 23 Km tour through rural Tennessee
to get to a hotel. Crops had already risen about 6 inches. We followed
two gigantic tractors that took up the whole road (check the video) as we
passed numerous prosperous looking farms. In Bowling Green we took a break and
encountered two friendly people, a man driving the latest corvette to an event
in town and an older lady.
Bowling Green has a corvette museum, a speedway and it holds regular corvette owner/collector events. The lady seemed especially pleased to be meeting us and called us, “adventurers”. She began by telling us that she is 77 years old and she spoke with us for a long time. She had been a motorcycle rider in her youth. She said that when she saw us she had re-lived her dreams of riding across the country, along the west coast highways and of driving a truck all over North America. She was quite the pioneer. She said she would drive her truck to the Mexican border but never could bring herself to go across.
“They would unload my truck at the wall" she said, "but I never could cross into Mexico.” She had been afraid. She added, "Plenty of drivers did cross into Mexico but it was risky, you know?"
She seemed to regret never leaving the United States. She was nostalgic while speaking with us, saying that she would never get to go anywhere now before she “croaked”.
Bowling Green has a corvette museum, a speedway and it holds regular corvette owner/collector events. The lady seemed especially pleased to be meeting us and called us, “adventurers”. She began by telling us that she is 77 years old and she spoke with us for a long time. She had been a motorcycle rider in her youth. She said that when she saw us she had re-lived her dreams of riding across the country, along the west coast highways and of driving a truck all over North America. She was quite the pioneer. She said she would drive her truck to the Mexican border but never could bring herself to go across.
“They would unload my truck at the wall" she said, "but I never could cross into Mexico.” She had been afraid. She added, "Plenty of drivers did cross into Mexico but it was risky, you know?"
She seemed to regret never leaving the United States. She was nostalgic while speaking with us, saying that she would never get to go anywhere now before she “croaked”.
We had previously met an older gentleman at a rest stop. He had approached us after seeing the loaded bikes and asked us in an excited voice, “Are you adventurers?” He immediately told us of the canoe he had recently purchased and of some of his own adventures. He began by saying, “I’m 77 now but I can carry the new canoe because it is made of kevIar.”
Is that what we are now, adventurers? I believe we have much
to learn before we can begin to call ourselves that. The trials we have
encountered so far seem trivial and our inexperience is so great. One thing is
for sure, the sunshine today was fantastic!
Day 5, Milan to Arkansas
We rode through the sun’s warming rays to Memphis and to
“Graceland”, Elvis Presley’s house. We parked the bikes and stripped down to
tourist attire in the 26-degree day. Our visit lasted the entire afternoon and
we were presented with many positive aspects of Elvis’ life and work. His
career achievements and his military service were honoured. His costumes were displayed
and he was portrayed as someone who came from humble beginnings and who strongly
valued family.
Evidence of his community philanthropy was displayed along with his collections of gold records and vehicles. These included numerous cars, motorcycles, golf carts and aircraft. His family had clearly put a great deal of thought into the vast array of artifacts and objects on display that supported the message they wished to communicate about who Elvis was. It was a fascinating glimpse at the culture of instant wealth and lavish parties.
Air Guitar in the Graceland Parking Lot
Evidence of his community philanthropy was displayed along with his collections of gold records and vehicles. These included numerous cars, motorcycles, golf carts and aircraft. His family had clearly put a great deal of thought into the vast array of artifacts and objects on display that supported the message they wished to communicate about who Elvis was. It was a fascinating glimpse at the culture of instant wealth and lavish parties.
After the visit, we rode about 50 Km into Arkansas before
pulling in for the night at a Holiday Inn Express. Again, the internet didn’t
work. We unloaded the bikes and I performed some
maintenance on Isabelle's machine. I replaced her low beam bulb and her drive chain needed to be serviced. A friendly Goldwing (a type of motorcycle) rider dismounted nearby. He asked about our travel story and pleasantly wished us luck before entering the hotel.
Soon after that, a middle aged man stopped his pickup truck behind our parking space; his arm was stuck out the window. He had lots of questions and he seemed to be sizing us up. His frequent pauses gave time for us to grasp the meaning of his heavily accented words. He looked at us and the bikes with an expressionless stare. We answered his questions with enthusiasm and cordiality.
Isabelle said, "We'll be riding all the way to the tip of South America, to Tierra Del Fuego." The man in the truck looked puzzled so Isabelle added, "in Argentina."
He paused, eyes down as if to comprehend then looked up and asked, “Argentina’s a different country, right? That why you got the extra tires?”
Soon after that, a middle aged man stopped his pickup truck behind our parking space; his arm was stuck out the window. He had lots of questions and he seemed to be sizing us up. His frequent pauses gave time for us to grasp the meaning of his heavily accented words. He looked at us and the bikes with an expressionless stare. We answered his questions with enthusiasm and cordiality.
Isabelle said, "We'll be riding all the way to the tip of South America, to Tierra Del Fuego." The man in the truck looked puzzled so Isabelle added, "in Argentina."
He paused, eyes down as if to comprehend then looked up and asked, “Argentina’s a different country, right? That why you got the extra tires?”
Day 6: “Coming home to Texas”
When I was a small child my family moved a lot. My Dad was
posted to El Paso, Texas and we spent a year there. A couple of moves in quick succession
followed Texas and when the second move was announced to us kids I am told my
reaction was, “Are we going home?”.
My parents asked, “Where do you mean?”.
I replied, “Texas, Daddy!”
My parents asked, “Where do you mean?”.
I replied, “Texas, Daddy!”
Isabelle and I made it to Texas and to our first time
camping. Paying twenty dollars a night felt much better than the high cost of a hotel. It was 29
degrees throughout the day and we had run into really friendly people. Out the windows
of cars, campers and 18 wheelers came shouts of, “Welcome to America”, thumbs
up and peace signs. Polite, smiling people constantly held doors open for us
and many struck up conversations. Our gigantic and over packed bikes were a
curious sight. They really broke the ice with people who felt comfortable
enough to approach us. Fellow travellers typically would begin a conversation by asking where we were from and
where we were going. Everyone who asked seemed generous and caring.
We stopped answering their questions with, “Through Central America" or "to Ushuaia”. Instead we said “west” or “south” or “near Dallas
tonight we hope”. Most people were happy with that and we would then escape another dire
warning about entering Mexico.
At a stop to refuel
Day 7 - To Dallas and Beyond
The landscape was flat so we could see numerous lightening strikes all around us. The sky ahead looked rather black at 6 pm when we pulled into a Texas shelter/rest stop. We camped for free there. The place was built
like a fortress. There were picnic tables, washrooms and a little office for the police. The buildings were constructed of massive steel
I-beams and thick concrete. There was a display inside the main building with
pictures and descriptions of spectacular tornadoes that had passed through the
area. The main building provided storm shelters for people to use in an
emergency.
The washrooms had hot water
and there were plenty of sheltered tables and plugs for recharging things. There was even free wifi! After washing up we
cooked dinner and had tea. The place had 24 hour video surveillance
and dozens of trucks spent the night. The next day we planned to make it to Eagle Pass. We hoped to cross the border into Mexico the day after that.
Day 8 – Beyond Dallas but not to Austin
3500 Km travelled so far
The night sky was filled with spectacle outside the tornado shelter. There was a
huge sound and light show. Heavy rain pelted the tent but we stayed dry. We
tried to pack quickly in the morning but were hit by another downpour. We decided to give it a
try on the road. Visibility was very
poor because of all the spray from the trucks ploughing through the deep
puddles. We moved cautiously at 60 kph with our four-way flashers blinking.
Less than two exits down the road from the tornado shelter we had to slow down and dodge debris on the highway. There had been a
crash. Two
cars, minus bumpers and lights were parked on the highway shoulder. The cars were otherwise intact. Two drivers stood close by their vehicles, each with a phone pressed to his ear. Wishing to avoid adding our motorcycles to the debris, we kept moving forward. The road was covered with deep
puddles. Rain fell in almost horizontal sheets making visibility poor.
We rode slowly. A kilometer later a passing truck sent a huge wall of water first at Isabelle then at me. The force of the water thankfully was not strong enough to deflect our path or cause imbalance to either of us. It had quickly become clear that the splash from a faster passing truck could possibly knock us over or into the ditch. We decided to pull off the highway and to weigh our options for the day.
We rode slowly. A kilometer later a passing truck sent a huge wall of water first at Isabelle then at me. The force of the water thankfully was not strong enough to deflect our path or cause imbalance to either of us. It had quickly become clear that the splash from a faster passing truck could possibly knock us over or into the ditch. We decided to pull off the highway and to weigh our options for the day.
Over breakfast we checked the weather predictions and
discovered that the storm was travelling in the same direction as us. We decided to call it a day and we took a
nice, dry hotel room and settled in for a well deserved day of rest. Buying
Mexican motorcycle insurance, doing laundry, editing video footage, drying our camping
gear and finishing the blog post were all accomplished during this welcome
excuse to take a day off riding. We also researched and came to decisions on a border crossing location, timings, routes and where to stay for our first
night in Mexico.
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