Sun May 21 Ottawa Brockville Toronto

Sunday was supposed to be an early start for Shane and me. But being the two bad boys we are we stayed up until 4:30am debating philosophically (we fixed all the world's problems but the fools started all over again the next morning) and then decide that it is OK to leave at noon as long as we pacify our consciences by washing the bikes. His gorgeous black horizontally-opposed R series (I have to have the R in there) BMW naked bike is immaculate but he washed it anyway (and my R1- thanks Shane). I was packing my stuff and forgot my business card folder and map. DUH! Shane gave me a pair of cosy, warm gloves that later saved me. It was a tug to leave as I felt so relaxed and at home with Shane, Paula, Ethan and their friends but the ride to my first home was definitely looking good in the sunshine. Shane's BMW Rockster has torque. Great, stinking gobs of it. I loved watching him grunt off with an easy grace and swing into 90 degree turns at steep lean angles in a relaxed style. With my new 180/55 ZR17 tyres the R1 turns a smidgen faster than on the 190/50's but Shane's BMW had me very interested in trying one out. We walked around in Brockville for a bit and then had a salad on a roof-top terrace and gazed at the vast St. Laurence river. All that water and you can drink it! I am so used to the salty sea that my mind boggles at the sight of the great lakes and the millions of smaller lakes that intersect all over Canada and USA as they feed into this huge river.At 5pm I panicked at the long ride to Toronto and snapped a few shots of my original house. Plucking up the courage to knock on the screen door I explained that I lived in this house a LONG time ago. To my surprise, the owner was one Donny Sine, the 5 year old that took me tobogganing when I was 4 and who's parents were best friends with my parents. I remember after our return from Fulham, London, England we would ride the toboggan down the water tower hill and fly right off the stone wall into Perth street. Crazy kids. I said my goodbyes to Shane and hit the 401 to Toronto. That was a long ride and I overshot the turning to Paul and Jenny's Lakeshore boathouse/house. Paul Marantette (UPTiME Business Solutions) is an ACT! consultant for the Toronto area and one cool guy. He jumped in his '65 Corvette and as I swung back onto Islington Road I hear the roar of a V8 and he squeals in front to show me the way to their well-hidden historic house on the lake. BBQ steaks done to perfection, a good laugh with Jenny and Paul and I flop into bed. Paul is leaving at 5:30 to continue fixing his boat and then go assist an ACT! user in Markham Ontario, north of Toronto and right near a Sage office. I plan to meet him there.

patience is a virtue, seldom found in men...

Yes I'm still alive and kicking...but only barely. I will update this weekend with photos etc.

Right now I'm in Cleveland visiting clients and planning a competition for the most unusual use of ACT! software. I have just been contacted about another Hole In The Wall camp being built in beautiful Sedona so that will round off my trip in great fashion. I look forward to meeting many of you soon as I ride through Chicago and Minnesota so do email me if you want a visit. Get the coffee on!

Fri Sat May 23/24 - Montreal smoked meat and flatlands

Friday I had to change my plans about visiting Marc Norton at his new east Montreal office but I have been promised a photo of the staff and office. was fun as Frank Buell and Luc (software consultants in Montreal...Frank doesn't support the Toronto Maple Leafs! Criminal!) met me for a Montreal specialty. Smoked meat sandwich. NOT to be confused with pastrami on rye. Frank has been riding for one year and his choice of bike was enough to generate jealousy in me. His red and black and silver BMW GS 1200 with all the kit is superb. I kept wondering whether I should have done this trip on such a bike, especially when I contemplated the rockies still ahead of me. But my R1 is eating this journey like a fox in a disabled chicken's hut so I'll save the BMW thing for a big two-up trip. I do fancy trying that new BMW 800 parallel twin GS. Hello? Any BMW dealers reading this?

So here I am eating until I burst on the BIGGEST meat sandwich in history (how they got 8 cows between 2 slices of rye bread is beyond me) and then the waitress offers cheescake. Frank said yes. That slice was the size of a hotel. I tasted a small forkfull. Glorious. I mean... as in REALLY good! The bad news was that the rain started. I now had to pull the rain jacket on and head out. It was blustery (the worst type of wind on a bike) and as I crossed a huge body of water (the St. Laurence river) the wind literally picked me and my gear and the R1 up and deposited me 4 feet across that lane next to a truck. Ever eat your own heart and swallow it with some Rennies? I BATTLED that wind. The worst bit was the sudden drop and I'm scooting left into the next lane. Straighten up and back it comes and I'm scooting right into the grill of a Peterbilt. At least I'll clean off the chrome easily...

Once on land it all settled down, the sun popped out occasionally and the flatlands of south-western Quebec numbed my mind with nothingness. A 60mph speed limit is bad but when the sole income for the whole Province is accidental speeders that set their hair on fire out of boredom and step on the gas and be damned... let's just say it takes Yoga style breathing to control your temper. A speed limit of 160mph would be safe on these bowling lane straight roads...

Shane Romaine's perfect directions got me through Ottawa's 3pm rush hour (they all work for the Canadian government from 11am until 2:30pm in this logging town - revenge from Queen Victoria for separating from the mother country I heard) and into his peaceful neighbourhood for a weekend of relaxation and catch-up. Shane is an Accpac consultant (Ascend Business Solutions) here in Ottawa and when we first met in Hawaii at the Sage President's Circle event we just hit it off. Then Shane and Paula his lovely blond wife of Finnish origin came to Phoenix to help DesignR1 install Accpac. I saw Shane at Insights and decided to detour to Ottawa to visit. Now Shane not only has a BMW Rockster and will ride with me on Sunday to my first home town of Brockville, but he plays guitar very well. So harmonica in one hand, beer in the other and singing with Shane I finally quit at 2am. Saturday was all about updating and shopping for RainX, and a camera bag to velcro to my petrol tank to make for quicker photo shoots. Visor up, shutter down, job done, ride on. Gotta love it! I also managed to chat with my sisters and mother who were all having a splendid time at my sister Laura's house in Wimbledon, London, England. It made me a tad homesick but I'll survive...Sunday...Brockville here we come.

Thursday: Vermont to Camp Hole in the Woods NY to Montreal

Thursday I awoke to a wet, cold day with low dark clouds. Made me homesick. I don't really like wearing rain gear but i needed to try to keep some body heat in. Normally I'm a human furnace waiting to spontaneously combust but when one is tired deep down it can be hard to "fire up" in the mornings. I had pulled a lower back muscle at some point and it's been a pain for a week. Probably the weight of my big fat belly pulling me into the shape of the Pilsbury dough boy that's done it. Anyway, old grumpy socks set off on the 9 West and within a few miles I saw a fantastic motorcycle dealership, Ronnie's Cycle Sales of Bennington Inc, so I whipped in to find a waterproof tank bag for my camera. They warmed me with a coffee, explained the way to the I87N to Lake Luzerne and were very friendly. No suitable bag though.

I slogged on through the cold into New York (the Empire State... I thought empire was a bad word?) and finally saw some sun as I pulled off to Lake Luzerne an hour early. I stopped for a hotdog and coffee (ugh, hotdogs don't do it for me...why did I eat it?) and discovered that the camp was 2 minutes away around the little lake. I met with Eileen Nash at 2pm and had a tour of the facilities. She was very busy so we kept it brief. This camp was not built from scratch but was converted. The log cabins in the woods have that real camp feel and as always the amenities to care for the kids are all there even to assist them experience skiing! One amazing story from the camp. See that tree? After the camp was named the Double H ranch that tree was discovered growing like the letter H. Freaky eh?

Although the sun was out and I was beginning to cook, I didn't trust the weather and sure enough I hit showers as I rode the I87 north to Montreal Canada. I generally don't enjoy the Interstates but I have to remark on this ride. The views here in upstate NY are amongst the best in America. I was stunned by the size and spectacular views of the mountains and forests from this motorway and the best of the best was about 20 odd miles south of Plattsburgh NY. I had no trouble crossing into Canada (shock of all shocks as my experiences in the past have been nightmares of neurotically paranoiad, gun-slinging, swaggering, aggressive border guards). The friendly lady with the french accent asked sensible questioned and wished me a pleasant stay. How nice! How do Canadians say the alphabet? A eh, B eh, C eh, d eh...

Here the scenery becomes flat and boring within minutes. The whole area is just flat farmlands so I spent my ride time mentally calculating miles into Kilometres and just trying to will myself as far as Montreal. I crossed a huge bridge on the 15N into Montreal and was instantly struck by how French it was. Looking down from that bridge I had a strong sense of looking at some industrial estate outside of Paris. The roads in Montreal are 3rd world standard - if that. I wanted to stop and contact Marc Norton and Frank Buell who are ACCs in Montreal. I walked into a restaurant/bar and told the older woman I just wanted to sit at the bar and have a coffee. "No. You must eat to get a drink" she said. I was in France. "Goodbye" I said and walked out. Balancing a laptop and camera and mobile phone on a slippery tank of an R1 in a Tim Horton car park is no way to find that everyone has gone home. I searched for a motel until Frank called me and gave me tips that saw me comfortable and warm in a motel in Pointe Claire. 286.5 miles wasn't a big distance but I was on the road for over 10 hours so I was glad to settle in for a hot shower and the most expensive McDonalds burger on the planet. Get me out of Quebec before I go bankrupt!

Wednesday, eCopy and on to VT

I didn't get up very early. I was meeting Chip Whitman and Vicky Malis at eCopy in Nashua at 1pm. An English customer of ours, Hub Software, have written a connector between the eCopy document scanning software and ACT! and SageCRM. We offer that product in the USA as ConnectR1 so it was good to finally meet the executives that we will work with. ConnectR1 allows any person scanning or copying a document to attach it to a contact in ACT! and then to book a task for that contact's account manager - all right at the copier, a very useful time-saver.

Nashua is heavily forested and a very clean sort of place. I wondered lost for a few miles until a helpful petrol station chap put me on the right way. Go east to go west he said. That'll work...

I wanted to get as far across Vermont as possible that afternoon as I was due to visit the Hole In The Woods camp at Lake Luzerne New York the next day. As I progressed across the Green Mountains on Hwy 9 it grew wetter and colder by the minute. I wore my waterproof frogtogs and a neck-warmer but I was FROZEN with a capital F. I clung to the bars in a frigid hunch until Bennington. The friendly lady at the cute white-picket fenced motel told me that it had snowed two days before! I was not surprised. Finding the heating and rigging a makeshift glove drier I jumped in a hot shower to see if the lumps of frozen beef on the end of my arms still had those dangly little bits that hit keys on a pooter...

En route I saw historical towns and buildings and the famous covered bridges that made me wish for weeks of free time and 50 cameras on the bike. The lakes come up to the road on either side (an American specialty that is remarkably beautiful) and these hills are very nearly mountains (after Switzerland I am difficult to please in the mountain department). The forests are so dense and beautiful because they are made up of a mix of deciduous and coniferous trees with the white trunks of the beloved paper birch set against this rich green backdrop. My fascination on the arctic ride was how people made their way here and built farms and homes and towns in the 1700's!!! Those were tough people and it kept me riding as I felt such a wimp in their shadow. As I rode on I saw a sign for a lake to the right and ducked down the road. A hastily eaten sandwich at this reservoir built in 1950 kept me fueled and fired up. Another fascination was the English names for the towns. I doubt there is a village, town or city in England that doesn't have an equivalent in New England. Which may go some way to explaining the name New England...

Plymouth Rock and Roll

Monday we headed North from Newport RI towards Boston on Rt 24 then cut east to Plymouth on Rt 44. The weather was glorious and the scenery in Massachusetts is fabulous. I loved Plymouth. The houses, the trees, the ocean, the antiquity and the atmosphere. But the best was yet to come. We bought salt water taffy (no big deal really, I can't see how this sweet could become famous) and took pics and learned about the rock that was supposed to be where we Brits first landed and began designing strip malls. Oops. Sorry. That's why we secretly planned to lose the Revolutionary war...we just knew you'd come up with strip malls and McDonalds.

We rode the 3, 3A and the 228 up the coast to Hull Massachusetts way out on a spit in the Atlantic ocean east of Boston called Nantasket Beach. Hingham is nearby and I loved the houses in this area. Tuesday we headed for Logan Airport in Boston and boy was THAT a scary ride as we bucked and bounced over the patches on the 3 and I93 with trucks and traffic on all sides. Jax flew back home and I wasn't 10 minutes down the road to Boston before realising how much the R1 and I missed having her on board. I must have the R1 set up too hard because it handles so smoothly and comfortably with Jax on. Her (admittedly miniscule) weight is the perfect extra for the roads. But I was missing the fun and laughter most. I rode to memorial drive and worked on some emails at a Starbucks then rode north to Burlington to meet Lesley Denny, an ACC covering Boston. Lesley is such a cheery soul and we chatted about Sage, ACT!, the conference etc. until it was time for her to join her hubby. I stayed nearby ready to ride to Nashua New Hampshire to meet with the eCopy executives.

Newport RI here we come!

Sunday morning saw me writing emails as best I could. I called Bob Kennedy, an ACC running Kenbar near New Haven. Bob was the first person to donate to the charity based on my first email. He spoke to me briefly at Insights in DC and then he drove the 1/2 hour to East Haven to have a coffee with Jax and myself. Bob has travelled and done things. He has stories that could fill a book never mind an hour's visit. It never ceases to amaze me how people can be so unassuming yet so interesting. Jax and I decided that Bob was a real friend and that we need to come back to Connecticut to hear more of his travels. We had planned our route from Google maps but fortunately I asked a petrol station attendant and we got a nice tip that led us through a slower, more scenic route to Newport. That night we shared a plate of scampi at Flo's in Middletown. Lisa the barmaid was very friendly and gave me Flo stickers for the bike to prove we had made it to their restaurant. Fried downstairs, baked upstairs...
P.S. Go back to former blog about Insights for new photos.

Sunny Saturday sees the camp!

I slept very late. Eventually we called Ray who had stayed overnight at the camp and confirmed we would try again. What a great day out. The sun was shining, the road was fast and the I91, I84, Hwy74 and Hwy44 were beautiful with spring trees turning from red to green. At the camp, the employees were throwing a birthday party for Kevin. He entertained them with his BeaverMan costume. It seems beavers can be a problem if you have a rather large tree house that the kids enjoy. Moving the furry tree-munchers to other locations is a bit of a lark to say the least. We were treated to a tour by Ray, ate burgers cooked by Tad the ex-NY cop, snapped photos and witnessed the joy that these kind-hearted people share with the kids. Needless to say, the facilities and arrangements to care for the kids is awesome. During the tour I saw 3 lads playing what looked like a cross between Lacrosse and field hockey. An American girl asked what it was. "Hurling" I said "from Ireland". And sure enough the 3 lads were from Ireland! Padraig, Mark and Paul heard I was English(ish) and attempted to kill me on the spot (for the protection of the children of course). I can't wait to do the UK/Ireland tour and visit the camp just west of Dublin. I'll get a proper beating there you wimpy Irish lads!

We headed back to our East Haven hideaway. The staff at that Quality Inn motel were so cheerful and helpful it was embarrassing. En route I suspected that Jax was flagging a little so I pulled off the motorway (sorry...Interstate) at Wethersfield. What a pleasant surprise. History before your eyes (although I suspect that no self-respecting Brit would paint a house these colours!). We had a drink at the local Tavern, took pics and headed back.

Friday May 16th - Wet, Wet, Wet

As Jackie and I packed the R1 the rain picked up again. This was the first test of my FrogTogs rain gear. These new wet weather clothing are like paper and weigh nothing yet are wind and water proof. Designed for outdoors people in general, I think they could do wonders if they do a range focused on biking per se. We left Westport for the New Haven offices of Hole in the Wall Gang. Richard had a regatta on that weekend and was very busy. He was hoping to win the race! Richard, we can't thank you enough for your fantastic support and assistance.

We got lost thanks to flamin' Google maps who told us to exit at 48 off the I91N when in fact it is right at Exit 46 off of I95N just BEFORE they split! The positive side was seeing some of the lovely streets of New Haven which is quite Old Haven. So, wet and frustrated, we arrive a tad late at 555 Long Wharf Drive and the HQ of Hole in the Wall Gang. We were meeting Ray Shedd and Linda Rapp (who set me up from the beginning when I was still planning back in England). Linda took the time to come in with her tiny new baby girl Shelby just to meet me and Jax. A welcome coffee, directions to the Ashford CT camp, a motel 3 minutes away booked and off we went with plans to meet Ray 70 miles north up I91 at Ashford. We met James Canton the Executive Director and Kevin the CFO and others that my British Beef addled brain can't remember.

We left the motel in East Haven in light drizzle. After 34 miles of freezing, lashing, visor-fogging rain I decided to abandon the visit when an overhead sign declared that our exit (only our exit of course) was "experiencing" huge delays. How do these poor exits survive all their "experiences"? I pulled in to a Wendys burger place that advertises "original" burgers. Original as in "novel" would explain square burgers but the intended misconception of original as in "traditional" does not wash. Why do they use that awful tin-foil wrap for fast-food burgers? It makes the heat-lamp warm trash all soggy and limp. dealing with the shock of a burger the size of a postage stamp is enough aggro when you are frozen and wet. Soggy one does not need. No more Wendys for me mate. I will stare in wonder at their next TV ad. The wonder will be how they don't get sued for malicious misinformation.

We arrived very wet and very cold in East Haven and decided to rest up as I had now come down with a sore throat and cold. I was well and truly knackered. How Jax managed after an operation is beyond me. Tough little cookie.

Thursday evening - DC to Westport Connecticut

For safety reasons the R1 was almost empty so when I swung in behind Richard Gordon's X35at 3pm I needed fuel. We headed north in good weather and after 15 miles we eventually managed a petrol station. I could see the animated conversation going on in the car. Around Philadelphia some chap on a fast yellow Suzuki with a girl on the back pulled alongside and waved. A moment later some dingbat using a mobile phone whilst driving cut him off very dangerously. He signalled me to see if I had noticed and with hand-signals we agreed that all car users on mobile phones should be shot on sight. He speeds off. Near the centre of Philadelphia, still on the I95 north, Richard scoots over to take another motorway and as I attempt to follow a woman in a red SUV talking on her MOBILE FLIPPIN' PHONE overtakes me on the inside, nearly sideswipes me and blocks my exit. I watched helpless as they passed over my head on an overpass west. I was pretty annoyed so I rode up to miss clueless on her mobile and banged on the window with my carbon-fibre-knuckled gloves. She looked horrified and literally threw the phone onto the passenger seat and drove on staring straight ahead as if too terrified to move. Mission accomplished. Maybe a life saved. Don't ever drive and use a hand-held mobile. It turns out that the Suzuki rider and his girl saw the whole thing and they laughed and gave me a big thumbs-up for warning that dumb woman.

I thought that maybe Richard knew some cute eating place near the Liberty Bell and that was why he changed motorways but it turned out to be a wise shortcut. I simply rode on to a petrol station, called them and caught up at the Westport Inn 15 minutes behind them. Boy was I glad of the sleep that night after 61/2 hours non-stop riding!

Some nice things happened en route. A chap on a Kawasaki 1400 naked bike rode up beside me and waved. At my first toll booth I was behind him and asked if motorcycles go free as in England. It's such a palaver to get money out when you have gloves and rain gear and helmets that it's not worth the dollar to hold up the cars. Nope. The US of A wants every almighty dollar... suddenly he waves me through the barrier. I hesitate as it looks illegal. The friendly lady at the kiosk said we could both go. I do not know whether he paid for me or just told them that a dumb Brit was with him but he got me through 2 tolls at no charge. Thank you Licence plate number RZL 70!!!

Also some bad things happened en route besides drivers on phones. The roads. Washington DC and New York NY should be made nuclear test sites. The state of the I95 around the George Washington Bridge must make that President turn in his grave. The bumps and pot holes are so violent that they threw my panniers off to one side and nearly made me crash. I pulled over as trucks the size of Trump Towers thundered past and refixed the bags. One minute later I hit a bump so hard it flung my backpack opwards into my helmet driving the helmet over my eyes leaving me blind. THAT freaked me out I can tell you! To replicate my journey, get a very, very fat friend to sit on a see-saw (teeter-totter?) and repeatedly jump on and off their seat for 4-6 hours. As I rolled into the Motel in Westport the rain drops started.

Sunday May 11th to Thursday 15th - Insights

I left Bevan's little art studio dream hideaway (he is a real artist) and headed toward the brand new Gaylord Conference Centre on the Potomac river at National Harbor. (misspelled Harbour). I can only say that the roads I rode were beyond death traps. My closest encounter with death was on the I295 South as my front tyre ran into a huge crevice that was 4" deep and snaked for 15 yards. The rear tyre hopped wildly from side to side as I stood up on the pegs quickly and relaxed my grip on the bars. At the end of the pothole I bought air-time and landed slightly askew but managed to straighten the whole mess out. The roads I saw in Washington DC are the worst I have ever encountered and are not even up to 3rd world standards. So here I am ranting in my helmet: the US Government plans to fix the world and can't even pave the driveway in front of the Whitehouse? Duffers. I think Obamah and Hilary need to start meeting some German road pavers and stop campaigning. Plonkers.

Like all convention centres, checking in takes days as the reception staff watch computer screens without speaking for interminable hours as you stand, aching and sweating for a stupid room number and a key. I am dying to see who wrote the useless software they have to use. The front entrance is jammed with arriving delegates. I leave and ride round the back to attempt to find a soul in the loading bays. I am to meet Steve Dunn to organise getting the R1 on the Swiftpage exhibition stand. The guys like the bike and are so helpful. One black worker says to me straight-faced "Sho yu can ride ova de carpet...ifn ya'll does a wheelie". These guys are such a laugh but the work gets done efficiently.

A guy called Charles runs the crews it seems. He has a tricked out Suzuki Hyabusa and promises to let me ride it. Man oh man! Charles...you are the man! Thanks for the test ride. This baby turns a lot better than it should and makes enough noise to win the Iraq war with one blip of that throttle. I wasn't keen on the slippery handgrips (but do they look good!). I won't relate his hilarious tales about speed and cops but he is one cool guy.

As to this place as a convention centre...don't get me started! I plan to inflict serious bodily harm to the architect. No one can find their rooms, there are not enough lifts and if you take the wrong bank of lifts your room is not listed on the walls etc etc. How can you learn NOTHING from the other Gaylord resorts? This bunch of duffers managed it. I'll bet they are also in charge of the roads in DC.

Monday I get up late and spend hours cleaning the R1 with "auto cleaning tissues" (renamed baby bum-wipes) that a friendly loading bay chap gave me so as to appear nice and fly-gut free on stage. Except that my stage appearance all got cancelled bit by bit until I sat sweaty and forlorn on my bike all alone in an empty exhibition Hall whilst all the ACCs listened to speeches and saw a photo of me in AZ setting off. I KNOW it was my bad haircut that caused it! It didn't really matter as they came in droves and expressed support in every way imaginable. I have so many business cards and invites to visit I could ride for months saying thank you. Many donated to the charity. Thanks to you all. Needless to say the convention is the highlight of the Sage year and we party, dance, drink and meet old friends until the wee hours. It was so hectic for me that when I saw Cary Pfeffer (LA and Phoenix TV news presenter that kindly gave me tips before I set off) I didn't recognise him! Cary runs a communication business and his newsletter is great.

The whole of the 5 days was a blur of chatting and explaining and walking the endless miles back and forth from the rooms. The best part for me was the Magical Mystery Tour party with the Beatles knock-off band Fab Four. They were very good. That is an understatement. The guy who did Lennon had the voice down pat! I could have sung along for hours as was true of all there. I caught the band as they left the stage and asked them "Are ya Scousers or Woolybacks?" John looked non-plussed for a second, grinned when the penny dropped and said "We're Americans". Fair cop mate. You were brill.

Since Jax sent the card to the children at the Hole in the Wall Gang Camp we planned for her to meet the staff. She had to be tough after an operation so when the ever-helpful Richard Gordon agreed to take her in the car for the tough 61/2 hour ride to Westport I was relieved. These roads for hours? No thank you!

Saturday Segway DC

OK OK I gave in. 189 mph Yamaha R1 for a Segway where max thrills = 11mph? You live and learn. I'd rather be on the R1 at 190 mph than Segway at 11 mph! This was lairey! Let's back up a bit. Daniel Graves (far right in photo 1, an ACT! Certified Consultant from California... herein called ACCs...remember that acronym) organises mad-cap things whenever ACCs meet. So I learned that Jacqeline Zimmermann (Jax is easier) booked me on a nerd-mobile training/tour in DC. I was not happy. Then I thought about it. Adventure (like a throttle) can run both ways. It does not ALWAYS have to be MORE exciting. It can also be different or subtle. (NO I do not count cross-stitching classes and stamp-collecting as adventure!). So I turn up. BRILL! That's all I can say. Matt our instructor knew his architecture and his history and that was the icing on the cake. These Segways are amazing, agile, advantageous, enabling, and expensive. I AM ADDICTED! I NEED ONE TO SURVIVE!

Bearded Butch Bevan was definitely the star. He had that thing flying in minutes. Along with ACCs Bevan Wistar (Zipcity, DC), Daniel Graves CA and Jacqeline Zimmermann (Action Consulting CA) were Bevan's daughter Cass and boyfriend Toba, and a family we knew not. The father had had a stroke and was limited on one side of his body. And he wants to try a Segway? He was fabulous! He fell off once but got back on and whizzed off.. Of course he slowly revealed he was a biker of 30 years who had owned Moto Guzzis, Bultacos, BMWs... I hope I can be as brave, witty and quietly reassuring as this man if I have such limitations.

Matt taught us in the busiest truck alley in DC, then whisked us off to the Ford Theatre where Lincoln was shot (the President you plonkers...not the car, although the cars deserve it more than the man). As we progressed our confidence and agility grew but Matt had warned us not to give in to ego-centric showing off so we were all relatively well-behaved and arrived safe but bitterly disappointed that the 1/2 day Segway tour was over. JUST FLIPPIN DO IT! $70.00 35 Quid. Addiction guaranteed!

Saturday evening Bevan threw a BBQ for ACCs. He worked for HOURS preparing food. Of course Paul and Jenny from Toronto Canada had to arrive in their Corvette and squeal the tyres in doughnuts to announce their arrival. We loved it! I'll be visiting that crazy couple in Toronto later! Steve Stroz snapped pics of his daughter on the R1 and Travis Campbell's boys David (9) and Daniel (6) made our evening as they begged to stay up and talk with grown-ups. Never send kids to bed early. Marc Norton from Montreal took photos, Lesley Denny was there from Boston, Susan Slattery braved it after cancer treatment and many others joined together for one of the most rewarding, restful evenings I have had in a long, long time. Thanks to Bevan and all the ACCs. Send me snaps if you have 'em folks.

Reports of my death are exaggerated...

Roanoke to DC Friday May 9th. No I am not dead. Stop getting your hopes up. But, as I am now over 10 days late with my blogs, I will update you all in small, bite-size chunks. Not 5 minutes after I entered my motel room a thunderstorm lashed the bike. I guessed I'd be testing my rain-gear along that Blue Ridge Drive. But a sunny morning and a coffee with some Harley riders kicked off my 300 mile day. The Harley riders had come down from Vermont and he warned me that roadworks along the Skyline Drive through Shenandoah meant regular 50 yard patches of gravel and those dangerous chewed-up grooves in the tarmac. Those awful things control your tyres and make riding feel like surfing on quicksand. They saw many deer and a black bear climbed a tree over the road and was taking swipes at the bikers as they rode underneath! He said he shouted for his wife to grab the camera but it was in one of the saddlebags. Fringed no doubt. The saddlebags...not the camera. I tanked up with petrol (climbing at the rate of 1$ a day) and rode back to the entrance to the cloud-enshrouded Blue Ridge Drive. It was eerily empty and great gobs of these low, white cloud kept washing over me and obscuring the view. For the first time in months I felt a wee bit cold. I can imagine how spectacular this foliage infested land must be in autumn. I eventually made my way to HWY 11 and Natural Bridge. Thomas Jefferson bought it from King George for something like $2.50 (when a US buck could BUY something! hehe) and I marvelled to think that in the late 1700's this place was a tourist destination! I mean, how the heck did they GET here? Whilst ambling along like a freak in my boots and leathers snapping pics I met Dean Ferguson (Director of Interpretive Program Monacan Indian Village) teaching children the history of the natural stone arch. We walked and debated and were outrageously skeptical of all things and fastened a firm friendship in our minds. I plan to return just to sit a few evenings and compare observations with Dean. He seems to know his history. A bit. I attempted to ride the 100 miles of the Skyline Drive but as I queued to pay my $10 (why don't American's give 1/2 price or free for motorcycles like the Brits?) I hear the talkative Ranger tell a driver that the whole 100 miles is cloudy and foggy and it gets worse. I could only see 3 cars ahead. I turned around and once again give in to the highway route. As I rode the sunny 81 North to 66 East and eventually the 495 Beltway around Washington DC I could see a solid cloud snake along the top of that Skyline Drive. Most disappointing. I filtered through the bumper-to-bumper Washington rush-hour to College Park and as I approached my friend Bevan's street I heard a honk and there he was in the car beside me with Jacqueline. He reckons the leathers look great and really stand out in traffic. Lifesaver and publicity. It'll do me. Bevan spoiled us with his gourmet talents and I relaxed a little and watched Eddy Izzard on telly. He was teasing America. I could relate. Tomorrow...Segway DC!