Blog and Photos by Garrett Fulton
It had been roughly ten days since I had been in America but it seemed like a much longer time. The speed limit in Canada was one of the lowest I'd seen anywhere. Wheel chairs, roller skaters and old ladies with walkers were frequently pulled over and ticketed for their excesses.
The odd thing about the uniquely slow speed limit was the fact that no one seemed to obey it and no one seemed interested to enforce it. The law was like an unwanted step child that everyone ignored.
The last couple of days have shown real contrast. The scenery east of Vancouver was spectacular.Low altitude mountains bristling with pines thrust up abuptly through flat grassy swards laden with wild flowers of yellow and white with dashes of red and purple. Our road, an inky black ribbon of tarwove back and forth over a crystal blue brook like a braid of nature and technology.As I tipped left and right gently weaving around the bends, I had a motorcycle moment of zen and foundmyself calling up "Strawberry Fields" by the Beatles from memory, playing it as loud as my inner monologue could play.
Contrast that with Seattle. Im not sure where it really began, but somewhere far away from the city we began to see terrifying columns of cars streatched for miles and miles traveling in the opposite direction from us. They were frozen in a mechanical morass of "progress" and "technology".Eventually, even the lanes we soared upon began to stall and we found ourselves stopped dead, overheating in ourleathers,our bikes melting beneath us and an endless string of cars before us. Skirting the rules, we squirted through cars and trucks on a lane we created and entiteled ourselves to since we belonged to the elite classification known as "BIKERS". Many gave way, some protested, others watched inwindshield envy....but either way....we pullled ourselves out of the stagnating mechanical orgie like a phoenix fromthe Friday night asphalt ashes and wound our way to the "Quality Inn".
Earlier in the day our onward journey was christened by the Sage Patriarch of Public Relations, Rob in Vancouver.They took us in, sprinkled us with the holy water of coffee, knighted us with pizza and showed us around the emaculate new facilities.
One young employee named "Joe", whos name clearly identified him as coming from India, answered my endlessquestions about that most fascinating and chaotic land that I crave one day to revisit. Dont let the calm smile of confidence in Joes photo deceive you. Nick-named the "Tiger of Bangalore", he is to software what sharks are tokilling.
....and now,...finally,...as I write this. I am back in a real American bar. Unlike the Canadians, poluted withFrench food fornication, they dont put salad dressing on hamburgers or mayonayse on the fries or even makeIndian Somosas with Salmon. No, the Americans get it right. Real fries, real grease and real meat. Amen!Yes, its good to back in America.
Greetings to Mark Hovey and Mandy over at the Classic sports bar for cooling me down after a hot ride,and best of wishes to the German National team to win the European Soccer Cup on Sunday...well be watching and rooting. Go Germany !!!!!!!!!!!!
The odd thing about the uniquely slow speed limit was the fact that no one seemed to obey it and no one seemed interested to enforce it. The law was like an unwanted step child that everyone ignored.
The last couple of days have shown real contrast. The scenery east of Vancouver was spectacular.Low altitude mountains bristling with pines thrust up abuptly through flat grassy swards laden with wild flowers of yellow and white with dashes of red and purple. Our road, an inky black ribbon of tarwove back and forth over a crystal blue brook like a braid of nature and technology.As I tipped left and right gently weaving around the bends, I had a motorcycle moment of zen and foundmyself calling up "Strawberry Fields" by the Beatles from memory, playing it as loud as my inner monologue could play.
Contrast that with Seattle. Im not sure where it really began, but somewhere far away from the city we began to see terrifying columns of cars streatched for miles and miles traveling in the opposite direction from us. They were frozen in a mechanical morass of "progress" and "technology".Eventually, even the lanes we soared upon began to stall and we found ourselves stopped dead, overheating in ourleathers,our bikes melting beneath us and an endless string of cars before us. Skirting the rules, we squirted through cars and trucks on a lane we created and entiteled ourselves to since we belonged to the elite classification known as "BIKERS". Many gave way, some protested, others watched inwindshield envy....but either way....we pullled ourselves out of the stagnating mechanical orgie like a phoenix fromthe Friday night asphalt ashes and wound our way to the "Quality Inn".
Earlier in the day our onward journey was christened by the Sage Patriarch of Public Relations, Rob in Vancouver.They took us in, sprinkled us with the holy water of coffee, knighted us with pizza and showed us around the emaculate new facilities.
One young employee named "Joe", whos name clearly identified him as coming from India, answered my endlessquestions about that most fascinating and chaotic land that I crave one day to revisit. Dont let the calm smile of confidence in Joes photo deceive you. Nick-named the "Tiger of Bangalore", he is to software what sharks are tokilling.
....and now,...finally,...as I write this. I am back in a real American bar. Unlike the Canadians, poluted withFrench food fornication, they dont put salad dressing on hamburgers or mayonayse on the fries or even makeIndian Somosas with Salmon. No, the Americans get it right. Real fries, real grease and real meat. Amen!Yes, its good to back in America.
Greetings to Mark Hovey and Mandy over at the Classic sports bar for cooling me down after a hot ride,and best of wishes to the German National team to win the European Soccer Cup on Sunday...well be watching and rooting. Go Germany !!!!!!!!!!!!
2 comments:
So today’s competition...... What speed was Garrett doing when he swallowed the thesaurus?
Actually Phil,
I invented the Thesaurus,....to quote it is to quote myself....
Garrett
Post a Comment