Guy Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages

Adventures in Sport Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT

Exploring North America...One Road at a Time

The alarm on my watch sounded off at 5am, and I staggered to the sink wash my face.  I flipped the TV on, and was astonished to hear it was 29 degrees outside. I quietly loaded my gear in the dark.  I’m way behind, and I HAVE to catch up today.

Weather-guessers are reporting snow and sleet in Northern Wisconsin, with accumulation limited to the grassy areas. Well, that’s a comfort.  I will have to ride 70 miles north, touch Wisconsin, turnaround, and run 70 miles back south.  A total of 140 miles and 3 hours to scratch Wisconsin off the list.  It will be dark and cold, and a miserable 3 hour run north.  I might as well get started.

I brought the ST to life in the cold air, and rocked off the stand.  The streets were lifeless at this ungodly hour, and I ambled over to US 151N and headed for Dubuque. A bank sign flashed 28 degrees at 5:24am.

I was paying the piper for the last 2 lackluster mornings.

I was cold, bone rattling cold.  I shivered and shook on 151. The road was dark, and I dimmed my lights at the few cars coming at me.

The highway made several turns, and I had to be cautious not to get in one too fast.  I feared the cold would numb me, and I would find myself in a sharp curve at 80+, at the end of 10 mile straight.

Farm houses were beginning to waken.  I could see kitchen lights glowing.  How I longed to be sitting at a breakfast table somewhere, diving out on grits and bacon, and feeling toasty warm.  My mind wandered back to Key West last January, when we ate supper on a warm night on a outside sidewalk.  A warm breeze blowing in off the Gulf.  Key West seemed like another planet on this morning, as I shivered up the road to Wisconsin.

All I remember about the ride to Dubuque, is that it was cold, dark and not fun. I recall very little of that ride.

The sun was rising as I neared Dubuque, exposing a cloudy, bleak, mid west day.

I FINALLY arrived in Dubuque and knew I was not far from the elusive state of Wisconsin.  I took a warm up break in a gas mart just outside the city. The building did not feel much warmer then the cold wind outside. "Damn, how cold does it have to get up here before they cut the heat on", I whispered to myself.

I passed a concrete pouring business with a sign announcing, " We dry Harder".

I cross the Mississippi and land in Wisconsin. Got it, now lets get the hell south, I say.

I follow SR 11, to SR 78 where I turn right, and flee this frozen wasteland, and cross into Illinois, but the weather is not much better.

Normal people are waking up, and traffic begins to pick up on 78. The route has a few curves, but I am too cold to enjoy them.  I will follow 78 south, and hope to pick up a few positive degrees on the thermometer.  I also wanted to get south of Chicago, before turning east.

I see a pancake house in Morrison and whip it in to get warm.  I find a booth, and get comfortable.  A young red haired waitress comes for my order.

"How are ya?"

"Pretty good sweetie, just bring me a hot chocolate"

"not from around here are ya?"

A driver in a 6 wheel delivery truck asks me what in the world I’m I doing on a bike on a day like this.

"trying to get to Ohio"

"why would you leave Alabama, to come here to ride?"

"long story, and you wouldn’t believe it"

I got out my phone and punched the Motel 6 number in the speed dial.  I spoke to the clerk with the atlas in front of me, as we looked for a motel in western Ohio.

"we have a unit in Lima," I checked the location on the map, just off I-75, about 50 miles east of the Indiana line.

"ok book it"

With the chill knocked off, I felt warmer when I got back out.

I rode SR 78 across I-80, south to SR 17, where I turned east, finally the direction I needed to get to Ohio.  I’m now facing a long ride across Illinois and Indiana on back roads.  It is only mid morning, and I still think I can make Ohio before dark.

I was feeling warmer, but the day was still drab, and a slight rain began to fall as I rode east across Illinois.  I was riding through more cornfields.  The farms in Illinois not much different then those in Iowa.

I began to think about the fire department and retirement.  Today is the day my first paycheck will post up under our new pay plan.  The city contracted out a firm to come up with a new pay scale.  All I knew when I left, I was getting raise, a good one, but no more specifics then that.

Racing across Illinois, I had to ask myself how much would it have to be for me stay, and I have no answer to that question.  Money has never motivated me in the way I live.  My life is simple, but oh how I am free. My check should post up by 11am Alabama time. I had butterflies.

A misty rain began to fall as I neared Camp Grove.

The towns in the corn belt were alive in Halloween colors. Every town I passed through was looking forward to the day. The fall season has become a special time in our country.  I hear it has grown to the second biggest retail season.  Despite the cold, it was a good time to be on a ride.


    Lunch time at the Park Place Diner.  Wenoah, Ill.

I stopped for lunch in a cafe at Wenoah, it had a tavern attached to the premises.  Common in the north.  I found a seat at a forward table, and peeled off the layers.  A warm smiling waitress took my order-

"so what are American Fries?"

"sliced potatoes in a skillet"

"well, bring me that I reckon, along with that pork chop sandwich ya suggested"

"k"

She came back over to talk to me when I finished eating.

"so where ya goin?"

"Ohio tonight, back south in the morning"

"not much in Wenoah huh?

"I’ve seen lesser places"

I bundled back up, and returned to my ride across Illinois.

I was unimpressed with American Fries, so will stick with French Fries.

Across the width of Illinois, I traveled on 17.  Past the endless rows of corn and through the many farm towns. They all begin to look the same after so many miles.  Grain elevators, post offices, and courthouse squares, varied little from place to place.

I rode by a women's correctional center, and glad it was them and NOT me.

In Dwight, I turned south on SR 47 to go around Kankakee.

The ST’s windscreen and fairing, thankfully kept the rain off me.

I took SR 116 east and gassed 30 miles later in Ashkum.  I got out my phone and called my checking account.  I was shocked.  That can’t be right.  It was a HUGE raise!  I called my wife and asked her to go by station 2 and pick up the explanation letter, and my check stub, and I would call her back later.

Ashkum is the home of the 2001 jr. skeet shoot champion.

I turned north on SR 1 looking to get to Ohio.  My map was vague, and I made several wrong turns.  The roads were poorly marked, and I grew frustrated.  Somehow, I found myself in Donovan.  A dot on the map in this land of infinite corn.  I stopped at the post office and went inside the tiny postal building for directions to Rensselaer. The place was not bigger then a large bedroom.  Papers were piled high on desks, and the front window offered a good view of Main Street.  I found what I needed, and by mid afternoon I was in Indiana charging north on US 41 to SR 14 east.


              The Post Office in Donovan, Illinois

I was feeling good. The mist had all but stopped.  The day was still dark, and I was missing the sun, but I was surviving.  My feet were like ice, and if I dwelled on things it would only make me cold.

SR 14 gives a Long Rider a good impression of what the real Indiana is about. If you would like to get a glimpse of what I saw on this ride, rent the "Hoosiers" DVD.

I took a butt break in Winamac at a local grocery/meat market. I called my wife-

"read it back to me baby"

"you were plugged in at step 6, 23 years in service and 17 in grade, makes you a 6 in the new plan, it matches your check stub.  Your deposit is right"

"geezus, "I’ll call ya back tonight"

I felt like I had just won the lottery.

I started the ST and got back on the road.  The cold a thing of the past.  How should I handle this windfall?  What will I do?  Hundreds of things flashed through my mind. I was not rich by any means, but I was much better off then I was just a few months ago.  Not that I was bad off then.  I was truly overwhelmed and thankful. In my simple life, this was indeed a lottery win.  I gazed out to tractors in the fields and thought about things. How you have to have a few bad times to appreciate good times.  I thought back to the drudgery of my old factory job. It was hot, dirty work, with long hours.  I was newly married, and making but a few cents more then minimum wage.  I hated it, but I had to pay the bills.  After 24 years, I still remember the long walk down the hall to the time clock of Alaga Whitfield.  I knew I was looking at least 10 hours before clocking out the other way.

On a empty stretch of road near Disko, a large dog startled me when he darted across 114.


         I rode across Indiana, on a cold, cloudy, day.

In Rochester, a cage pulled out in front me and I quickly closed down on it.  I thought nothing of it. The driver slammed on brakes several times, and then made a motion with his right hand.  A passenger was in the car.  Then it dawned on me, this idiot thinks I am too close to him!  He is really pissed and I thought about shooting past his hunk of junk car, and leaving him in the dust.  But I feared that would really piss him off, and I wanted this guy in front of me so I could keep an eye on him.  I back way off, but I could still him looking in his mirror. I’m too smart for a road rage accident.  I let him go, and even think about pulling off, but fear he might double back and start something.  I’m not going to let him hurt me.  My bike is no match for his car.  East of town he turns left, without a signal, and disappears.  I guess he showed me. I wonder if he would have acted the same  if I had been a Hells Angel, and my buddies were in a line behind me?

I took SR 5 south to Huntington, then went to US 224. I wanted no part of Fort Wayne.

The ride across Indiana was surreal.  So much was on my mind.

It was dark when I crossed into Ohio, finishing my 48 state quest.  I was in Wilshire.  No bands were playing at the state line to mark my accomplishment.  Light was fading (what little there was), and it grew colder by the minute.  But that didn’t matter, I did it.  My little machine has been in ALL the lower 48.  Many more then once. I felt proud of myself and my bike.  I've also ridden Eastern Canada extensively. 

I was cruising SR 81 in the dark, when I met a Amish man and his son walking west on the shoulder.  My lights causing them to squint, and to shield their eyes with a hand, when I came by.

The night was coal black, as I closed in on Lima.  Supper was on the table in the modest homes of Converse when I came through.  I was cold, and their warmth looked soooooo inviting.  Blue hues of TVs could be seen on the curtains of many homes.

Front porches of many sported jack o lanterns and lights.

I was ready for this ride to end.  I wanted a warm shower and a hot meal.  Through the dark farmland I pushed on to Lima.  I was encouraged when I saw a sign that announced Lima was a mere 25 miles away.

I could see lighted dust clouds out in the fields as farmers worked into the night harvesting.  The work ethic of these people is something to witness.

Eighty-one brought me in on the east side of Lima, and I promptly got lost.  The place was much bigger then I thought it would be. Up and down the creepy surface streets I rode looking for I-75.  I found myself in a seamy part of town.  I glanced around, and felt stares.

I knew if I kept going east I would find I-75, and true to my instinct it came into view, arriving at the exact exit I needed for the Motel 6. Been one of those days.

I checked into a 33.95 room this time, and repeated the process of the day before.  Heat wide open, hot shower and bath.  Ahhhhhhh I was warm again.  I had been cold all day.

I covered 691 miles today.  The toughest miles I’ve ever done.  It was a shiver down day.

I walked across the street to a Pizza Hut for pizza and garlic bread. Tasty and hot.

Back at the room, I called my wife, and we spoke at length.  We laughed when I said I was at last making more money then her.  She said it was 75 degrees in Alabama today-

"you really know how to make a long rider feel good"

"well I told ya to just spend the week riding here"

The weather guessers were predicting 60-70s in Tennessee tomorrow.  I figured I would have a cold start, then a warm afternoon.

I feel asleep clicking channels, about 12 am.