Hi Honey,
Today we said goodbye to Mike G., hello to Mickey, took a side trip down memory lane, and left West Virginia in our mirrors as we began the almost 600 mile, two day trek home. Quite a day.
Mike G. was torn between finishing our week together and missing his mother's annual family Michigan State Football Weekend, but ultimately he decided that family harmony tilted the scales toward Michigan. He left about a half-hour ahead of us, deciding to use his Waze app to guide him on the fastest route possible to Flint. Then he and Jennifer, and, I assume, other family members would drive to East Lansing for the game. We got a text that he arrived safe in Flint at about 5:00. About 500 miles in about 9 hours; not too bad.
So, we headed out in fairly warm temperatures and hopped on the way-too-close-to-our-motel I-64 to hightail it to "memory lane" which, in this case, was Barboursville, WV. Barboursville, as it turns out, is the boyhood home to our very own Dr. Mike A. (it suddenly occurs to me that Mike might prefer "Doc Mike" to "Bump-start Mike". We'll have to noodle that a bit).
I really do not like riding on the interstate in a group during rush hour. Solo, it's just mildly irksome tension, but leading a group multiplies the tension by the number of riders lead. A little too nerve-wracking for my taste, but once we got out of Charleston, it was clear sailing to Barboursville. We exited and Mike jumped into the lead to take us past his old home. It took him a little bit of time to feel his way around, including one side-trip down a steep hill to a dead end, but some of the streets and many of the homes were not there when he was a boy. Eventually, though, he lead us down his little cul-de-sac to a small, post-war, brick ranch. Everything on the street looked a little dated now, but I tried to imagine it as it was 60 years ago, with young veterans starting families, working hard all day while their kids played ball in the street lined with small, shiny-new houses.
Mike and Judy knocked on his old front door and a nice, elderly gentleman greeted them. They talked a bit and learned that one of Mike's original neighbors still lived in the same home. Unfortunately, the neighbor was in ill-health (about to go to hospice, in fact) so Mike did not try to make contact. It was really nice to be part of Mike's re-connection to his past; made me (and all of us, I think) feel closer to him.
Mike, Judy and the current occupant.
I started to get a little chillier as the morning wore on. I feel that the interstate tends to suck warmth from a rider, both literally and figuratively. Fortunately, our stint on the the interstate would end shortly after Barboursville as we crossed the mighty Ohio in Huntington and hopped on US52 to take us to meet one of my, and I think your, favorite people, Mickey, the Ferret.
Our meet up spot was McDonald's in Ironton, OH. I think we were on time, but of course, Mickey was early or at least earlier than we were. We parked and a few of us immediately went into the restaurant to relieve ourselves and for me to get a small coffee. Like I said, it was chilly.
Since Mike G. bailed (or is that "baled"... I need to look that up...OK "bailed" is correct), Mickey knew all of us and he held court for a bit while we stretched and warmed ourselves.
I'm watching the webcast of Justin's concert right now. Was that him to the left in the balcony? The fanfare sounded great, but I couldn't tell if it was him for sure. It's so dark up there. Haydn is next. I can't recall if he likes playing Haydn or not. It amazes me how much he knows about these ancient composers. Pretty cool. When did you let him know you were there? Did you wait until after the concert? I wish I was there live -- the internet sucks at the Hampton Cincinnati.
Well, Mickey sure knows and loves southern Ohio. He took us on quite a tour. First stop was in Portsmouth for lunch at The Scioto Ribber. That's the steak place that I told you that Mickey loves. He knows how much I love me a steak so he made sure that we timed it right to get there for lunch.
It was a straight shot west on 52 and then just a couple of left turns and into the parking lot. Smoke from the massive grills filled the air and had me drooling. They cook everything outdoors and it's quite an amazing production with dozens of steaks and chops grilling at once and the cooks making sure that each one is cooked to order. I asked one of them what cut I should order and he immediately said "rib-eye". You now how I love me a rib-eye, so I wound up ordering that. I did not regret my decision one bit. No one did. The cash register freaked out and delayed our departure, but that was the only glitch in what was otherwise a fantastic lunch.
I think I would title this one "Road-weary and Ravenous"
Mickey and Me
Want to make a guy smile? Put him in close proximity to meat and flames.
Grillmaster General
The finished product
Immediately after lunch, Mickey took us just a few blocks from the restaurant toward the Ohio River. In the 1930s, the City of Portsmouth felt it necessary to build a flood wall. It's quite a structure in its own right, but in the 90s, the city commissioned an artist to paint a series of murals depicting significant events in Portsmouth history on the 20-foot high walls. Mickey says that one guy did all the painting, but I don't know if he meant that the artist did the designs and had a crew to do the painting or if he literally painted every stroke on the walls. Either way, it's a half mile long, 20-foot high masterpiece that needs to be seen to be fully enjoyed. We should come back to Portsmouth for the mural and the meat.
I hope this gives you a little perspective of the magnitude of this installation.
"Riding" my retro motorcycle down the streets of a retro Portsmouth
The Nation's Oldest Motorcycling Club as backdrop for one of the nation's oldest motorcyclists. (would have been pretty cool to hang with these guys, I think). LOL
We could have easily spent hours learning of the local history and appreciating these wonderful art pieces, but Mickey wanted to show us the beauty of the roads leading to and surrounding his home. Because we had a large (and delicious) lunch, he felt that it was important that we work up an appetite for our dinner. Did I mention to you that he invited us to dinner? All 6 of us? To his house? Just like when we first met him, he's just a genuinely nice guy.
I forgot to ask Judy if she grabbed any pictures from today's roads and we've all said our "good nights" so I'll just describe my impressions now in the hopes that I can show you more pictures when I get home:
Great roads, but nothing crazy. I felt like he took us up and down, away and toward, north and south, from the Ohio River, using US52 as a westbound connection from one twisted loop to the next. I may be wrong about this, but that's how it felt. I recall being on the US Highway at least twice during our roundabout trip west. I have to tell you that you probably would never see me in the hours after work and before dark if we lived as close to so many enjoyable roads as does Mickey.
On one of our drop-downs to the river and US52, we stopped for fuel. I fumbled my credit card and, when I bent over to pick it up, I spied this view and thought it was compelling enough to snap a picture.
By the way, it looks like a cooling tower for a nuclear power plant, but the plant is coal-fired. It was designed to be nuclear, but they had regulatory (shocking) and some structural issues so they canned the nuclear deal and went with coal. At least that's what Wikipedia tells me. LOL
One of the good/not-so-good things about following Mickey on this section is that I had no idea where I was or where I was going. Good, because I didn't have to worry about time or direction. Bad because I cannot relay where exactly I was. I remember being in (or near) Georgetown and Bethel and a town called Higginsport. I don't recall if we actually rode through those towns, but I remember seeing signs announcing their proximity. Mickey once, well more than once, posted about "His Road" which is his 'go-to' road to ride close to his house; as an example, Sheridan Road through the Ravines is MY road. Well, we rode his road, too, but I don't know its name, either.
We had a splendid afternoon of riding through forest and field, serpentining our way west along the north (or sometimes west) bank of the Ohio River. Our destination was Mickey's home where we would meet his wife, his grandson, and son and daughter-in-law. Grandson stayed for dinner.
You would like their house and would love Dianne. She was ready for us when we arrived and we had a delightful half-hour or so of visiting before our When-in-Rome dinner of Skyline Chili (any of 5 ways) and Coneys ("Chili Dogs" to you and me). Absolutely delicious and a perfect meal to end a cool fall riding day.
Dianne is a potter. She has a mantleful of vases and other pots that she has thrown and fired. Out of the blue, she says "Each of you can take one with you". What? Who does that? She had to have spent hours on each one and here she's giving them to virtual strangers. I picked one that I thought would go well with the watercolor of Horicon Marsh that Megan made for you. Two art pieces from two riders' wives --the beginning of a collection, perhaps?
I'm sure you'd have rather seen a picture of their deck or the front of their house, but this is what made their home beautiful, I think....LOL
Actually....THIS is what made their home beautiful
Our well-fed crew
Mickey led us back out of his sub-division and all the way to our motel. I saw more deer in his sub-division today than in the entirety of our last three big motorcycle trips. Just a tiny bit disconcerting.
This is my only roommate-free night of the trip. We all miss Mike and I know he would have loved to meet Mickey and Dianne (and the steak). Since you're in Appleton, I will be roommate-free tomorrow night when I return home. I'll miss you just a bit more than I miss Mike....just a bit.
Well, J's concert is over. Another awesome performance. I think it's time for me to hit the hay. I'm not going to write to you tomorrow because I'll be home by dinner time (alas, you will not be). We're going to stop at Thirty-Six Saloon in Rockville, IN. That's where we stopped on the way back from North Carolina in 2014 and Mike wants to pick up some of their amazing bbq sauce. I'm a little nervous because the "Covered Bridge Festival" is happening in Rockville this weekend and we've heard it draws huge crowds. I just hope we can park without a hassle.
Aside from stopping at Thirty-Six, we're taking my usual avoid-I65 (US 41 North) route straight home. I should turn over 26,000 miles before we get back and we should have about 2,000 miles total for this tour. 2,000 miles of beautiful roads, colors, rivers, and mountains, 2,000 miles of cementing relationships and establishing new ones. 2,000 miles of loving this motorcycle. It's been an amazing 2,000 miles despite it also being 2,000 miles of missing you.
We will be careful on our ride home. Enjoy your stay in Appleton and give Justin a hug from his old man. I can't wait to see you again, sweetheart. What's for dinner Sunday?? ROFL
Until Sunday,
Matt
P.S. -- Good thing that I forgot to send this to you last night because Laura took this sad picture of me eating breakfast without my "partner", Mike this morning.
See you in about 32 hours. Love you.
MTC