Diners, Drive-ins and Dives...coming to Dayton, OH next year !

Ever watch the Food Network's TV show, "Diners, Drive-ins and Dives?" Well, you are hearing it first on this blog. Guy Fieri and his team is coming to Dayton, OH to do a segment highlighting Dayton, OH's "Smokin Bar-B-Que" and rightly so.
   I stopped in at this little diner located at the Gateway to The Historical Oregon District, late one night after some upscale dining just around the corner, at a superb seafood place. It was late, nearly the bewitching hour. a rainy night. Normally, at this hour, this place would be hopping as it is right on the corner of revived historical district. Like Beale St. in Memphis, and Bourbon St. in New Orleans, this street is in the process of restoration. Old stores being taken over by new management, art galleries opening up their doors to evening patrons, bistros and pubs serving late into the evening. But once all the patrons have had enough to drink, they start looking for food and most eateries are closed. The SMOKIN BAR-B-QUE is not only serving, but it has been preparing all day for its late night showtime - open and serving until 4 am. Yep, that`s right, until 4 in the morning.
   I apologized to Melanie, the young woman in charge of this late shift, for not being able to really do justice to the SMOKIN BAR-B-QUE`s menu by ordering something substantial from their menu as I had just come from a bountiful dinner. Melanie laughed and said, `No problem! But you must try our specialty, the smoked pulled pork.` I agreed and she went to the back of her service kitchen counter, took out some pulled pork and put a nice portion into a sampling cup for me. Thank you, young lady! That was the best pulled pork I have had in the southern USA and I have tasted a few orders. This one was just juicy enough that it didnt need any barbecue sauce, often used to mask or enhance the flavor of the meat. This meat was perfect as was, juicy and with a lovely hint of smokiness.  To douse it with some bbq sauce would have been sacrilegious - just a bit of salt and pepper please! `Wow...deeeelicious !` Melanie`s assistant, Charlie, smiled at me in a knowing way, as I sang out my compliments.

   The SMOKIN BAR-B-QUE is owned and operated by Jim Teal, who as a teenager worked with Colonel Sanders of KFC fame.The training paid off. As Melanie explained, ``Jim uses only the highest quality meats: beef brisket, pork, turkey, ham and chicken. He hickory smokes his meats very slowly, all day if need be, so that the tastes are infused into the deepest part of the meats.`` And that attention to the best quality of meat and slow cookin,` really pays off.
   The prices in the the displayed photo show you that this is an old and authentic photo. When was the last time you had pie for 40 cents or French fries for 30 cents? And Jim Teal isn`t quite as slim today as he was back when he was 19. But then, from the taste of his cooking, that is quite understandable.
   The SMOKIN BAR-B-QUE  caters too, offering patrons ``Wholes``...Whole Turkey, Whole Brisket, Whole Hams, Whole Salmons, Whole Trouts, Whole Ducks and Racks of Lamb. Now, this would be ideal for a backyard barbecue...perfectly smoked, perfectly cooked meats without all the work.
    Sure would be phonin Jim Teal`s place if I lived in Dayton, OH. Just in case, their phone number is
937-586-9790. Tell `em, ``Szpinner sent you !``
    Visit back again !

Dine on delicious deep water delights in DAYTON, OH. at JAY'S SEAFOOD!

   His personality permeates his restaurant: gentle, humble, sensitive and caring, likely a man who laughed easily and cared about people, his friends, his family and his clientele. He was a chef, an oenophile, a photographer, a gardener and a restaurateur.
   More than 35 years ago, this wonderful man took over proprietorship of one of Dayton, OH's top restaurants. If you enjoy seafood, it is an absolutely essential dining spot. Fresh seafood, flown in daily from both American coasts and then prepared by very capable chefs. The oysters on the half shell, meaty, salty, as good as those served in Charlottetown, PEI, Canada. And the oyster shucker, Kent, shucks so many oysters nightly, he can do the job with his eyes closed.
   The shrimp cocktail, can one say "al dente" when referring to how properly cooked shrimp should be? Crisp, with a solidity to them that encourages a firm bite, not mushy and soft as served in restaurants with less skilled chefs.
   But you must go to Jay's more than just for the food...though, going for that reason would be more than enough. You couldn't be more right than going just for the food. Still, go for another reason: the ambiance. This restaurant is shrine to the American west, to cowboys, to the days of the wild west, to the American past.

    Originally, Jay's was Ritty's Pony House, first opened as a saloon in 1871. Jay Haverstick continued that spirit and that philosophy as closely as he possibly could. There is more to the history of the place as it once was also a Dayton corn and grist mill, an easy step to preparation of whiskey if you grind corn. The building, constructed in the 1850's, has a dining room filled with many antiques, from light fixtures to the unique bar  - carved out of a 5400 lb. piece of Honduras mahogany into a solid bar with each balustrade of its facade having a unique face. 
   The Pony House originally was a school of French and English for young ladies. But the saloon aspect dominated with some very famous visitors: Buffalo Bill Cody is said to have ridden his horse right up to the bar; the notorious John Dillinger, who never robbed a saloon, imbibed here regularly; prize fighters, John O. Sullivan, Jeffreys, Corbett, and Jack Dempsey were never challenged as they drank regularly in their favorite drinking establishment. Who would have dared?
   Jake Ritty, an earlier proprietor of the property, converted the the corn and grist mill into a hotel-restaurant-saloon and because the establishment was near the main depot of the railroad line, it attracted even more patrons, traveling salesmen lodged and dined well here. Prices were right too: beer, a nickel a stein or 15 cents for a bucket. Sadly, prices have changed since Ritty's time but are still very competitive. Ritty, a tinkerer, is credited with inventing and then selling the rights to the cash register for which National Cash Register Co. is well known.
   Today, make a point of asking to meet Amy Haverstick, Jay's daughter. A very affable young woman whose youthful appearance belies the many years of experience she has developed working alongside her father. She has worked ever aspect of the family business and seems to miss being in the kitchen most. But, her place really is out front where she represents her father well, proudly recounting how her father worked hard in developing the restaurant and its reputation for quality beyond description.

   Dinner was scallops in garlic butter, and it was among the sweetest, juiciest scallops I have ever had, accompanied by beans and carrots which were superb. I wouldn't normally rave about veggies this much, but these beans were nicely crunchy, sweet, and absolutely delicious. The chef must have been raised on a farm for he treats veggies reverentially!
   And, the service...so comfortable, so unpretentious, yet so attentive. The waitresses, each an employee for years. Mine, Paula had been there for 20. Something must be very satisfying about working at Jay's Seafoods. For certain, dining is very satisfactory there.

   I had no room for dessert, sad to say. So, just a coffee. The waitress, upon hearing me explain that I was very particular about coffee finding most coffees served in the USA to be sadly weak, assured me that I would find Jay's coffee most satisfying. She brought over a pack of their specially selected coffee to show me it was not the average-run-of-mill grind. It was outstanding, matched by any from New Orleans where the USA's best coffee is served.
   If you are ever in Dayton, OH, do not skip dining at JAY'S SEAFOODS...the city's best eatery. But there is a close second, less upscale, more down to earth,...ahh...but that is my next blog.
   Visit back again !

Death defying ride....NEW ORLEANS Tour, 2010 !

Great luck, alert rider, good motorcycling capability...I was tested a lot!
    I have been writing about NEW ORLEANS VOODOO...and how it kept challenging me my whole tour. In this report, I must list the many close calls I had. But I am writing from home...so NEW ORLEANS VOODOO...I won !!!

   A few years back, I was riding through St. Paul, MN, enroute to the Canadian west. Morning rush hour traffic, roiling rain, and a flatbed truck with steel garage door framing, dumped its load, so to speak. I was lucky in that that chaotic crash happened all around me, within feet of my bike, but no contact, no injury, no damage to my bike or to me.
   The NEW ORLEANS VOODOO tour had a number of potential disasters, bike crashing, injury possible incidents. Let me tell you about them...no special order of danger, crisis level or potential result.
   The 'boss' and I were 'streaming along' in another downpour, somewhere along I-70, midway between St. Louis and Kansas City, enroute to KC. The rain was a sudden deluge, making visibility like standing in the cascading waterfall at Niagara Falls. If I could hardly see, I hate to imagine how non-visible I must have been to vehicle drivers behind me. To stop along the side of the highway was likely an even worse decision, so we rode steadily onward. Glancing to my left, a red pickup truck was gliding past me in the passing lane in the downpour. As the driver nosed ahead of me, his vehicle began to slide, maybe hydroplaning. The truck began what seemed to be a mesmerizing spin, sliding totally perpendicular to my line of travel, 'fully across my bow.' And the truck kept moving along the highway, at speed, at right angle to the road. It also kept spinning, now crossing my line of path but moving toward the shoulder. Now, facing me and still sliding backwards along the shoulder. This would have been awesome, on TV or at a movie, but not so in real life.
   The truck was now going backwards, again at speed, but now moving into the grassy shoulder and beginning to plow out its own path as it slid into the mushiness alongside the highway. I had released the accelerator but was now passing the truck along my right side. It was now slowing itself in the sloggy mess of the shoulder, still moving, fast...and still spinning slowly. The rear of the truck now slid into some trees along the highway shoulder and spun around again to face back on to the road. I rode past, too afraid to stop, too shook up to pull over for fear of being hit by an upcoming vehicle. I could see the driver sitting behind the wheel,  upright, peering out of his windshield. I rode on. The "boss" with her head buried behind my shoulders, shielding herself from the rain, never saw a thing. Thank goodness!

NEXT, BMW bikes, not all they are cracked up to from the accessories consideration, anyway.
   I-70, just past Columbia, MO, the rain had finally stopped and the sun, bullying its way through the clouds, had dried the highway.  Riding conditions were good now. Suddenly I felt a 'whump' under the bike as if I have ridden over some obstacle on the road. But I knew I hadn't for I am a very alert rider always watching the roadway for accident causing road kill of any sort. I glanced in my right side rear-view mirror and saw obstacles flying out to the side of my bike, from my bike. My right side case had popped open and luggage was exploding out on to the roadway behind me as if a window had popped open on a jet plane. The "boss" was thumbing on my side, a panicked action indicating the need for appropriate driver action from me. Meanwhile, my bike was pulling to the ride and I fought to keep it in an even line but decelerated as smoothly as possible given that I am traveling at highway speed, about 70 mph. I managed to pull over to the side of the road as soon as possible, maybe a third of a mile down the road. Dismounting, we both looked back to see a man, car parked along side the road, on the highway grabbing our belongings and flinging them to the roadside. Meanwhile, vehicles were veering around him and around the road debris. We later learned this was Daniel, a recently returned Iraq vet who said, "Last few months, I have been saving a lot of people." He saved things for us.

   In short, other than having things damaged from abrasion with being thrown onto the pavement at highway speed, everything was OK. We were uninjured; the bike seemed OK, except for a hard case damaged by being fully open and being dragged on the road. Luckily, I travel with tie straps and we were able to collect recovered belongings and tie the case closed. This was the second case now tied closed, as the top case had its closing mechanism fail the day previously.
   The deep abrasive damage on the shoulder of the case indicated why the bike was pulling as we rode. The cover was acting like a rudder, scraping the roadway and pulling the bike to the right. Again, talk about good luck or good rider capability. Only the hard case and some luggage was damaged. We were both fine! Thanks Daniel...whoever you are !
   I wish this ended my dangerous incidents writing, but there was more.
   Leaving Cleveland, riding along highway I-90, in the express lane, a safe distance behind a passenger car, suddenly the car began to swerve one direction, then, another. I realized the driver was dodging something in front of him and I decelerated immediately also, veering left and right to avoid flying debris, rubber tire shreds. I then realized that just a little further up the road, to the right, a pick up truck towing a flatbed trailer with lawnmowers on board, was shredding a rear driver side tire. He had shred off the rubber tire totally and was riding on the metal rim, sparks flying out behind him like shooting stars! The truck driver was not slowing down at all. I sped up to pass the danger, glanced at the drive so I could jab my hand downward to signal him he was having major problems. No point...the driver was on the phone !!!!

   Again, luck, skill, or alertness...I don't care which it was but I was safe, once more. Still it wasn't over.

  Arriving at the USA-CANADA border mid-day, I was in no rush and was about to get into one of the waiting queues. Glancing to my right, a car was totally disregarding me and driving into my lane/line. I hit my horn, veered left to avoid being hit and the driver finally recognized that there was a bike on his left. Whew...another close call and I was simply going in a straight line. At this point, I could hardly wait to get across the border. Better yet...home!
   As a riding friend has said about my riding capability. "You are a very good rider, just too fast!" I don't agree. I was very careful with my speed, using both my cruise control and my common sense to always obey the speed limitations posted. I never got one ticket or even a warning in over a month of touring the American south and central USA.
    Visit back again !

 

So many wonderful things to see in the USA !!!

As a friend once told me while I was riding along, "Slow down, smell the roses, check out the scenery!' I may be overlooking all that again being the impatient rider that I am.
   But Cleveland's ROCK and ROLL Museum is a ROSE, big time !!! Just dynamite !!!
   I spent the better part of the day in the RnR museum and that still didn't do justice to the immensity of the place and its contents. Whoever dreamed up the idea for Cleveland, that person has to be commended, for the attraction is simply superb. Anyone who says less than that about the place is jaded and innured to the extreme.
   This place is an historical shrine to the historical development of Rock and Roll, not just American RnR, but global. They cover every genre or aspect of American musical history from the 1920's to the the 1990's, from blues to grunge. I never even heard of some of the musical genre they display and show.

    Sadly, photos are not permitted throughout the museum to safeguard the artifacts contained therein. And there is far, far too much in the museum to remember. Best to make some notes on paper if you really want to retain what you have seen.
   Throughout the display areas, they offer interactive TV monitor-like displays which permit you to listen to music and read about the people involved with it. Not just the singers, musicians but also the producers, the writers, the back stage people, the DJ's...very few people are overlooked. Video interviews are done with various artists drawing out the nostalgia which belongs to the eras. Should you be in your mature years, beyond 40 and 50, then this is simply a walk down memory lane. I watched one mature couple stand before one musical display, arms locked together, swaying to the music, no doubt each of them lost in the memory trip back in time. I know I could not resist singing away to some of the old musical pieces which were hits during my teen years...the Beach Boys, Janis Joplin, Jimmie Hendrix, and of course, Elvis Presley.
    It is amazing to see some of the interactives which trace the influences on the musicians who saw themselves as originals. An example is Elvis who had influences from cowboy/rock singers like Carl Perkins, to blacks like Louis Jordan. One always saw him as an original. He wasn't!
    It is a thrill to be able to punch a screen and hear 'Blue Suede Shoes' sung by Elvis and then sung by those who inspired him. Amazing !

   This is a museum, entrance fee $22, which requires the better part of a day if not the entire day itself. They have multiple day passes available and if an entrant is a musician or a musical devotee, then, it is may be better to take advantage of the longer tour. There is an incredible amount to see, and a lot to do, and to attend just for 2 or 3 hours, will not do the museum justice. One can't get away with a diminished viewing of the place by just touring the lowest floor, but one should be aware that there are a number of floors offering a number of different historical aspects to the musical development of the USA.

   This museum truly is an historical musical tour. No matter what your musical tastes as long as it is along the RnR line, this museum, has stuff for you. I may be underselling the museum, for it isnt a museum. It is a Rock and Roll hall of Fame.
    Visit back again !

If I were an AMERICAN, I would be very, very angry with my country !

I don't want to exit the US on a critical note, but I have traveled over 3000 miles, likely closer to 5000 and I am beginning to have heartaches for this country. It is a wonderful country, with wonderful people but it is a country that is broken. Economically, socially, maybe even psychologically, it is broken every where.

How sad to see such a glorious country decaying, falling apart at the edges. I want to be an optimist but I don't know enough about the country to be optimistic. Were someone to ask how I can criticize when I know so little. Fair question...but here are my observations. They aren't conclusions; they aren't definitive statements. They are merely what I am being told BY AMERICANS, and what I see wherever I go.

   Somebody is lying to these people, maybe. I arrived in Springfield, IL, the state capital and what do I see right next to my hotel, a utility plant burning coal and spewing out white smoke out of THREE STACKS, 24/7. Sure, the plant may claim it is scrubbed smoke, sure, sure...scrubbed or not, something is being spewed out, all the time.

   This is Obama country, where I am. But when I said that to a waiter he said, "Sure and we also had Blagojevich." I thought there wasn't much one could say to that.

   I got into a cab to go to a restaurant tonight in Springfield; I wanted my wine, so better to cab it back and forth. Springfield is a relatively small town, likely less than 300,000 people. The cab was one of those mini-vans...but as I slid the side door open, I noticed there was a steel mesh completely shielding the driver from any fare. Paying the fare was a challenge as the money had to be slipped between the roof and the metal mesh protective barrier. When I asked my returning driver questions about money he carried, and why such barriers (We have plexiglass in Canada), the driver told me his uncle was a cab driver in Springfield and was KILLED for the $37 which he was carrying. Asking my driver how much he usually carried, he replied, "About $200."

   The police squad car driver in Jackson, when told that New Orleans had the highest crime rate in USA, quickly defended the reputation of Jackson, saying "Ours is worse !"
   Talk at any gathering inevitably turns to illegal immigrants, the wall being built to stop ILLEGAL Mexican worker influx into the USA. Placing blame is not the point of discussion, the point is what can be done about it, what should be done and who should initiate actions. What is worse, maybe, is that everyone is so politically correct and so full of bologna. I was watching the morning news in the dining area of a chain hotel, the news was broadcasting about an ATF issue, American Tobacco and Firearms...seems some executive was having problems with being a member of a "white supremacist" group. The black hotel staff person attending to the dining room, harumphed and blurted out, "Just the new name of the KKK!" Wow, what a comment...and worse still, it is reality in America today.
   State that their new president is black, and prepare yourself for the response, "He isn't even an American!" Wow, how sad to hear! I like Obama but I have yet to find anyone here who supports him. I wonder who voted for him, for no one is owning up to having done so.
   When the gulf oil spill hit, Obama got blamed for incompetence. I don't know what to say to that. Damn BP can't solve it, so how are some politicians going to do it.
   Americans seem to be criticizing OBAMA for everything: the economy, jobs, lack of jobs, healthcare, over govt, not enough govt, immigration, not handling immigrants well...he cant win. And asked if he will win the next election...not a snowball's chance in hell, no matter who the Republicans put up against him.

   Real estate is tanking all over the country. Banks are now foreclosing and sell the foreclosures at a loss, something called 'shorting.' House prices are dropping like stones in water, almost in every state. Foreclosures are being snapped up like hot cakes.
   People are complaining...no jobs, govt spends to much, not enough, no job creation, too much spending in wrong areas. How does Obama sleep at night.  
   Yet watch American TV and ... it is all smiling time, every commercial shows the good life and many show how it is within the grasp of every American, an easy grasp. Lies, lies, lies. Capitalism is roaring its ugly head but fewer and fewer Americans can buy into it. Life on TV is good, in reality, it doesn't look nearly as good. City centers are boarded up, or plastered with "for rent, for lease" signs. Factories have no cars in their parking lots. The ones that do, are foreign own, Hyundai, Toyota, Honda...I drove past their plants in KENTUCKY and TENNESSEE, and their lots were full.
   Finally, the US is plain dumb in not trying to think outside the box on some issues. They are spending billions and billions on drug enforcement forcing drug buyers, users to buy through an underworld of criminals. Could anyone think about the drug problem being a health issue and spend money on it that way, thus decriminalizing it. Oh, Oh...I may be setting myself up as a target, and easy one from the weight gain of this tour. But gaining weight in the US is so easy...that will be another blog.
   For now, let me end by saying, this country is falling apart, one brick at a time, but faster than one might think when watching American TV.
   Visit back again !

BMW R1200RT not what it is cracked up to be in some ways !

I am terribly upset. NEW ORLEAN'S voodoo jinxed me again. While riding from NASHVILLE, TN, it begain raining, hard, a torrential downpour with skies so black I feared I was about to experience one of the infamous Kansas City tornadoes or hail storms.

   Coming out of a pelting shower, I was encouraged by the break in the rain when suddenly, I felt the bike lurch a bit as if I had just run over some object on the interstate. I am a careful rider always scanning the road before me for road kill, discarded objects, anything which can alter the travel of my bike. In this case, I had seen nothing, none of the things which would nudge the bike so noticeably. I glanced in my right side mirror to see what I had "run over," but instead of seeing something on the road behind me, I saw objects flying away from the side of the bike as if they were being ejected from an exploding plane window. I realized, my side case had indeed exploded open and the contents were being blown out on to the highway. Worse yet, the actual case cover had popped open and downward, and rubbing along the highway, was acting as a rudder, pulling the bike to one side.
   The "boss," my sharp riding partner began thumbing me on the shoulder indicating that I should pullover and stop. I did so, gradually, slowly, as I had no idea what had really happened. I fought the bike to a standstill. Dismounting, my wife and I began to assess the damage, the losses. the mishap.

    The hard case actually had flipped open, downward and dragged along the highway. Worse, all the contents had been blown out on to the roadway where one driver, who had stopped, was grabbing our things off the highway and tossing them to the sides of the roadway to save them. Thank you Daniel !
   The story behind the case crash is interesting. A few years back, while touring the Canadian west, my top case had a failure and  could not be closed, clamped, or locked. A Victoria BMW dealer, when asked if repairs could be done, said, "Nope, these cases are too complicated to repair, too many springs, and screws. You will just have to buy another case." Sure, like a $1000 is chicken feed which I can spend in the blink of an eye. I road my bike home, case tied down by a strong cord. My dealer at home, BMW DURHAM, has some good mechanics, professional, conscientious and very aware of BMW costs. Jason, one of these mechanics said, "Richard, I can repair it in likely less than half an hour," and he did. $925 saved.
  But this time, I had a two case failure, my top case AGAIN, and my side case, blown open unexpectedly. But the worst part was how the case had dragged on the ground while we were riding at highway speed, about 70 mph. We were very lucky not to have been tossed from the bike, nor veering into any traffic. I was was thankful that the "boss" was safe and sound. My own steadfast grasp and vice grip in holding the bike straight saved us from worse fate.

   Now, I contacted my home dealer, in Ajax, BMW DURHAM and presented my case specifically explaining that I now had to ride with straps tying down all my cases...a near $30K bike using $4 nylon straps for case security...just incredible. I also informed the dealer that the "boss" would not be riding home from Kansas City, but would finish her trip by plane. My confidence in the security of my cases was shot all to hell and I love my wife!
   My dealer pleaded a case of distance and international boundaries for not offering any real concrete assistance. They suggested my coming to the dealership on my return for a visual inspection and assessment by the home dealer.
  I am terribly disappointed by the underwhelming response of my dealer and even though I am trying to appreciate their position, it is our safety that I feel should be considered of the highest priority. And it is not.

  The dealer in Kansas City, ENGLE MOTORS, what an incredible bunch of people. They made no promises, but they used salvaged used parts, and repaired everything like new. Cosmetically, my bags are beat up, but mechanically, they are like new. I spoke with the mechanics, Shane McCulloch, Andy Cohen and Mike, along with the shop manager, John Hays. What a good group of people. They fully understood my situation and also that money was important. They used parts salvaged from damaged bikes and were able to reconstruct my bags so they operate like new...at very reasonable cost and in very good time...less than two days for 60,000 km major servicing, oil change, brake, clutch adjustments and CASE repairs.
   This chapter of the story is closed. The next chapter, the ride home to Toronto from Kansas City, opens on Monday. Then, the final chapter, revisiting my home dealer will open some time in the next week or so.
   Visit back again!

KANSAS CITY: more than PARIS, more than ROME !

"Kansas City, KS...more boulevards than Paris and more fountains than Rome !" says Pete Granat, a retired lawyer who has lived much of his 60+ years in Kansas City. I visited with Pete and his wife, Maralin, two super generous people who love good food, good wine, and good companionship and in doing this visit, I learned a lot about this mid-western city.
   Hot and incredibly humid during the summer. "100/100," says Pete, meaning that the temperature can hit a 100F and the humidity can repeat the century percentage. Incredible! I have been here in more moderate temperatures, lower 90s with humidity about 85% and it is not comfortable at all. I thought NEW ORLEANS and MEMPHIS were uncomfortable, but Kansas, hundreds of mile further north, matches those more southern cities in discomfort.
   Looking at the homes in many parts of this city, I began to believe the city was full of millionaires, philanthropists, many Sam Waltons, of Walmart fame. Well, in some ways, I was not too far of the mark. The previous owner of the Kansas City Royals baseball team, Muriel Kauffman's family owns a palatial estate, gated and elephantine in size in the heart of the city, not in the suburbs. George Brett, retired all star Kansas City Royals shortstop has a Mexican style hacienda, a bit of an exaggeration, but his home is a magnificent residence in which a multiplicity of Mexican families would likely be able to reside in real comfort. Surprisingly, one can drive right around the circular driveway which fronts the house, no gates, no wrought iron barriers, no security guards.
   Many of these huge homes have unbelievably low price tags. The American economy has decimated the value of these homes and what you visually appraise at being in the million dollar range, surprisingly will be valued at about 1/3 that. Simply incredible !
  The city is spread over a wide expanse of area, amazingly so with huge grassy areas all over the city, between neighbourhoods, huge green carpets, multiple car-wide boulevards separating traffic going in opposite directions. But if that were not enough, every one of these neighbourhoods, is densely filled with immensely tall, full foliaged, 60-70 year old trees. Someone long ago, must have demanded that there be no cutting of trees in Kansas City. So, it seems, every house is surrounded by gigantically tall trees, front, side, back and the foliage gives each home wonderful shade, a needed temperature moderator for the unbearably hot summer months.

   Peter and Maralin have a beautiful back yard, pool, gazebo, pergola, deck for out door dining, and trees, trees, trees. What this means is that they have animal life galore in the back yard, something to be enjoyed all day long. Birds, cardinals, robins, sparrows, crows; rodents, chipmunks, grey squirrels, black tailed squirrels and even jack rabbits. "I was making coffee this morning, and two ducks were in the pool," Maralin told me. You can be in an ornithologist's heaven sitting in this back yard, if you can stand the humidity and heat.
   Carol and Richard Powis, business owners in KC, shared some interesting opinions with me one evening as we enjoyed cocktails to cool the evening off and they led me to other observations about this city and its people.The Powis' daughter, had lived in Toronto, Canada for a while but returned to KC, stating that "Torontonians were not very friendly!" Compared to Kansasitians, I can fully appreciate what she had observed. Here, the people are friendlier, more outgoing, more affable. A bartender, serving me soda water with lime, just kept refilling my glass for me never once needing prompting for such nice service, just a simple hospital gesture, without any extra charges either !

   And for more about friendly service, read my blog about ENGLE MOTORS, where I had my motorcycle serviced.

Visit back again !

Highway wipeouts getting closer and closer !

A few years ago, on another tour, I was in St. Paul, MN and it was pouring buckets as I was about to depart the hotel. As I got on to the highway, in morning rush hour traffic, a flat bed truck carrying a load of huge garage door sized steel frames wiped out, to what started out was my left side. The truck began to slide, at the same time, beginning a clockwise rotation with the cab of the truck spinning out in front of me but slowly turning inward towards me and coming closer and closer. The rotation continued, more and more, and the truck slid closer and closer toward me sitting still on my bike, awed by what was happening in front of me. The truck continued its clockwise spin, always coming closer and closer. Then, it slid just a little to my right, then, more and more to my right and I realized it was going to slide through the guard rail on my right side, which it did.
   I heard the squish, whoosh of the tires mushing into the soggy grassy behind the guardrail and watched as the load began to fly off of the back of the truck being carried off by its own momentum. Pieces of steel framing flew out on to the highway, landing all over the road but thankfully, not slicing into any cars. Cars spewed water gushes as they slid to stopping. The truck slowed by the soaked grass, bogged down and stopped with the driver, looking shocked, sitting just to my right looking down at me. I thumbed up to him to signal that I was asking if he was OK...he jerked his thumb back at me vigorously, indicating back that he was ok. I slowly got my bike out of the crooked steel pretzel works which the highway now had become.
   Torrential downpours are not new experiences and I still hate them, more for my fear of not being seen by car drivers, than for being drenched.

   In my newest tour, NEW ORLEANS, the American SOUTH and the Smoky Mountains, I again encountered these rain gushing tempests where I could not see the car directly in front of me, but had to hope that the driver was not going to make any sudden stop. If he did, I would know it, the hard way! Worse still, if I couldn't see the driver in front of me, what did the driver behind me see as a biker is a hell of lot smaller than a car.
  Then, your imagination begins to take over as you ride slower and slower, hoping and hoping harder as to what may be behind you and that whatever it is, you hope that the driver has good eyes, really good eyes, and that he will be able to spot my tail lights long before he is about to smear me off the map.
   What kind of vehicle is that behind me. I can't see a thing...nothing in front, nothing in my mirrors, nothing as I turn my head in various directions to see what I can see. Is it a car behind me? An RV? Another biker? A pickup truck? Or worse?

Oh man...
   The mind can create its own horrors !
   And if someone were to suggest, pulling over, getting off the road. \Not a chance...stopping at the side of the road, means you are a stationary target now, not moving ahead of the traffic behind but letting it catch up to you. Or worse still, hitting you as you sit at the side of the road. Sorry, that isn't a decision I make when I am riding in the rain. I continue moving...but let me describe my latest little adventure just north of Nashville.
   Again, the downpour would make Noah smile, but not a BMW rider.
   I am going along at a slowed pace, but in a steady, straightpath. My riding partner, the "boss" has her head buried deep behind me to shelter herself from the pelting rain. She sees even less than I do as her head is bent down behind my helmet and close to my shoulders.
   Then, out of the corner of my eye, on my left, I spot a red pickup truck trying to pass me. "Is he nuts or what!!!" I ease up on the throttle..."Let the fool go!" but to my surprise, instead of passing me, he begins to slide, sliding with a slowly beginning clockwise rotation. 'Across my bow, now,' so to speak but definitely in front of me, but rotated a full 90'. I would be hitting him broadside except that he is also sliding along at speed along the highway away from me. Remember I have released the thottle and so, I am decelerating.
   Next, his rotation continues, as he begins to slow finally, except his motion has now moved him passed my line of travel, over to my right and now he is facing traffic and sliding BACKWARDS, still at speed. His slide is now moving him toward the mushy, water logged grassy shoulder and he bulldozes his way into this green sponginess, still sliding backwards. His rotation has stopped, it seems, but the truck is still sliding, backwards and toward the trees along the sides of the highway. I have slowed my bike to a near stop  and  I look, the truck cab faces me, the driver behind the wheel, looking like he has been fighting that steering wheel for dear life. Hitting the trees backwards, has stopped the truck, seemingly undamaged, ditto for the driver, though undoubtedly shook up really badly. I guess he is unhurt from the way the truck has stopped, fully upright, tail into the trees, and front facing back toward the highway. I am too afraid to stop, but from the looks of things, I guess the driver is ok...I keep going, steadily, slowly.
   I never did go back to see if my guess was right. I was too afraid in that downpour to do anything but keep going until the rain broke enough so I could get off the at the very next exit. And then, the rain stopped, the sun broke through the cloud cover and I was riding safely once again.
   Oh if only what could be behind me was just a tad more historical than the new vehicles of today, with their drivers who think they can outmaneuver Mother Nature.

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NEW ORLEANS VOODOO...back at it, but still not beating Canadian MOJO !

A few blogs back, in szpinbytes.blogpsot, I wrote about the black voodoo mystique that hangs over NEW ORLEANS. A few years back, Katrina, this year, the oil spill, how bad can it get? And I then wrote that some of this black magic was spilling over on to me, computer crash, phone crash, impossibility of making phone calls from hotel room. But, eventually the power of the Canadian MOJO reared up and tied the score.
   Then, NEW ORLEANS' black magic fought back with these challenges: bike top case, could not be closed or locked, note the cord tying down the top case in the photo on the left. NEW SCORE...NEW ORLEANS 1, Cdn MOJO 0. Then, riding in near torrential downpour north of Nashville, we hit a dry section and bang, the right side hard case exploded, snapping its inner security strap, and spilling its entire contents out on to the highway. If it weren't for the fact that it was our luggage tumbling all over the highway, the way the speeding cars swerved and veered to avoid hitting our "debris" was hilarious. By the way, leather of any sort, works in a bike 'unloading' at speed. My shaving kit is a soft leather bag and though roughed up on the outside, the contents were intact and in good shape. Still, all our other stuff got strewn all over the highway and alongside. A driver pulled over, his name was DANIEL, and he got out of his car picking up our stuff off the highway and flinging it to the sides of the road to save it. Thank you Daniel! 
   Finally, as we gathered up, better to say, 'salvaged' our belongings and sized up the damage, we found we lost again. I suffer from sleep apnea and am relegated to sleeping with a CPAP machine to pump air into me as I sleep so that I do not stop breathing which is what happens with a sleep apnea sufferers. I travel with this loaf of bread sized appliance. My machine had its face mask damaged in such a way that it was rendered useless. Sleeping now would be a test of my physical fitness...lol. NEW ORLEANS 2, Cdn MOJO 0.
   Now, as we put stuff back into the case, we discovered that the 'exploding' case could no longer be closed or locked. It meant that the case shell would flop open unless held physically shut somehow. NEW ORLEANS 3, Cdn MOJO 0.
   This trip is turning out to be a real test of patience, determination, perseverance and more.

   Luckily, I pack extra things thinking bad things can happen and the black nylon strap for tying down things was perfect for tying the case closed. It worked perfectly, but my paranoia was setting in and I hunted for the nearest WALMART so I could buy a few more straps: one to double up on the exploded case, and another just to give us some security on the left 'unexploded-to-this-point' case.
  So here we are on this classy BMW R1200RT, a supposedly state of the art in German engineering, and just look at it, tied together with butcher cord and nylon straps. But it worked. NEW ORLEANS 3, Cdn MOJO 1.
   Now, Germans are no slouches when it comes to engineering. The hard case was designed so if it opened accidently, the shell opens downward but does not detach. Good thing? I don't know because as it exploded open, the grey shell flopped open and began to scrape the ground at highway speed, 70 mph. I could feel the resistance like a rudder trying to deflect the boat in a new direction. I fought it and kept the bike on a straightline until I could safely stop about a 1/3 of a mile down the road.

NEW ORLEANS 3, Cdn MOJO 2...one hard case, badly beat up, bike driver and passenger unharmed, but score getting closer.
   Arriving at the hotel and unpacking, we surveyed our damaged luggage. Underwear wet from landing in rain puddles, shaving kit bag, battered, scraped, but all intact there. But the nasal mask of the CPAP machine had its facial cushion ripped off, literally, when it rolled along the highway even though the whole machine was in a heavy nylon bag. The bag may have saved the machine for it worked perfectly when tested. But, the facial mask needed replacement. NEW ORLEANS wasnt finished with its voodoo.
  American security or paranoia is incredible. All I wanted was a replacement mask and you would think in a large city like St. Louis, MO, this would be no problem. Finding the part was the least of the problem. The supplier of the part demanded that I have a prescription for the part unless I was already one of their patients. Now, you go figure out how you would deal with that one. No amount of explaining that I was 2500 miles from home rang true with this person, no pleading, no whining, nothing. Home Land Security...you're pervasiveness is distilling down to the masses.
   But I am a CANADIAN and a phone call home to the supplier of my CPAP machine in Toronto, ended up with a verbal shrug, "No problem, we'll fax them a prescription." Explaining why I phoned just got an "I understand'" response from the Canadian operator. "No problem," was how she said the problem would easily be resolved. Bravo Cindy of Home Health Care, Canada !!!  NEW ORLEANS 3, Cdn MOJO 3...tied again. But don't let me end on a critical note about the USA. Asked if they would ship, the health equipment supplier proudly announced it would be "shipped today, with delivery guaranteed at our next stop tomorrow!" Man, that American efficiency can be flabbergasting ! But it's great when you need it.

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