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May 19, 2005
The Finish Line
ITHACA, NY -- May 19
The headline and byline tell the end story: it's over. I'm home. All four limbs and two wheels intact. But that still involved a final (and highly pleasant) day of travel, which needs to be journaled for posterity.
It started with getting out of and far away from New York City and the even-scarier-for-a-biker North Jersey. Taking the simplest approach under the morning naivety that nothing could possibly go wrong, I planned to go straight up Avenue A to 14th street in the East Village, cut right across the Big M to the West Side Highway, and take the Hudson parkway right up to the George Washington Bridge and out of the city. As with most things involving motor vehicles and NYC, easier on paper than on wheels. The typical slaloming around idled cabs, delivery trucks, and diagonally lane-shifting cabs was to be expected.
What was not expected was a 15 minute hold up on the last block of 14th street due to some paparazzi-infested celebrity appearance in an unmarked location with the inevitable lines of people and police barricades. I didn't see this from a block away due to the delivery trucks blocking the view, nor did I ever figure out who or what all the fuss was about that day. I did manage to make it out of there without too much oil smoke, to begin the final adventure of moving through brisk morning traffic with around 105 miles on the trip odometer hoping I cuold make it over the Bridge to the cheaper Jersey gas before re-fueling.
Once safely (or not) on the other side of the Hudson River, I made haste for the first gas station on the right as I followed NJ 4 out of the Fort Lee bridge plaza. I discovered that in addition to the routine tank fill up, Diana needed not one but two whole quarts of oil to make the dipstick happy once again. With fresh oil, nice weather, and the worst of the traffic and bridge scares behind us, it should be all downhill from here on.
That meant getting through the rest of Bergen County, of course, which meant braving the lesser of two evils in taking NJ 4 right up to the edge of Paterson before jumping onto the NJ 21 that hugs the Passaic River. Here I got my biggest scare of the entire two days' worth of New Jersey riding where I had been on high alert: a white SUV blindly merged right into my lane headed right for me. I foolishly decided to just gun it and bear left, and was fortunate that there was no oncoming traffic in the opposite direction to contend with before I ditched the token Jersey driver and made haste for US 46. This would take me through Clifton to meet with NJ 23, which would in turn point me right at the northwest corner of the state into Port Jervis, NY, where I could take the fabled Hawks Nest highway along the Delaware River towards Binghamton.
Once I made 23, things got much easier. The traffic was still there, but it slowly tapered off as the road grew more hilly and scenic. I had been searching all morning for an archetypal "Jersey Diner" with which to fill up and erase all memories of the archetypal "Jersey Driver" that almost killed me. However, I was ultimately thwarted when sheer hunger dictated I just hit a bagel spot in a shopping center in Franklin Township. It had the trademark red neon "HOT BAGEL" sign, which gave some remote hope it would resemble the jewish bakery bagels one can only truly get right in NYC. Given the distance from the city (measured at about 68 miles on Diana's trip odometer), it was certainly passable with some lox cream cheese spread. Predictably, I saw a nice shiny metal-plated diner not 2 miles later once I was back on the road.
Further up the NJ 23, just as the scenery finishes its slow metamorphosis from suburbia to small town to rural, I took my final diversion of the day when I happened upon High Point State Park. This interesting hill is exactly what it claims to be as the highest geological point above sea level in New Jersey, and it's rather unique for Northeastern high points in that is literally sorrounded on all 4 sides by mostly flat valley -- the Poconos and Catskills are further away on the horizon. This affords some spectacular and truly panoramic views, which resulted in many photographs on a nearly flawless day weather-wise. As I circled around the monument and made sure I got pictures for all 4 compass directions, I saw other motorcycle tandems making their way up the park drive to the same great discovery. File this one under "who knew there were such sights in New Jersey?"
Almost immediately following the high point vista, I was at the corner of the state and -- despite never seeing a welcome sign that actually confirmed it -- riding through the streets of downtown Port Jervis. All of the state highway signs turned to NY-shaped shields and I was following those for NY 97, finally in New York for good. While the entire course of this notable road as it follows the New York - Pennsylvania divide of the Delaware River up to the "straight line" border those two states share, it is the initial 10 miles or so that has become famous in many car commercials. The combination of twisty curves, a steep cliff to one side, and the river far below on the other, and a scenic stone wall lining the whole thing, makes this a naturally fun stretch to drive in any vehicle. On the bike, it was the most fun I had cornering since I left the mountains of North Carolina almost 2 weeks previously.
As the Hawks Nest portion gave way to a more simple (yet no less beautiful) riverside road, I knew I was more than halfway home on the final day of travel. The weather looked like it would hold up the entire way, confirming that the only rain I have gotten on this whole trip was the brief stretch of Ocracoke Island in North Carolina. NY 97 meets up with the main thruway of NY 17 (the future I-86) at the town of Hancock. This seemed as good a place as any to enjoy my final road meal of the trip, especially when I found a charming little diner right on the main street. It was there that I had the best burger of the journey, and a surprisingly good soup as well. A cup of coffee to wash everything down, and I was ready to make the final 70 miles in full bravado.
Because Binghamton is a generally cruddy city that is a magnet for random bad weather and worse traffic, I peeled off the 17 as soon as possible with the aim of heading due north on NY 41 towards Greene, NY. This charming little town is known for a nifty annual cyclo-cross race that I keep missing, and a pretty cool downtown antique-laden shopping district. While refueling, I met my final group of riders for the day and spent some time exchanging stories. These were two of the coolest riders I met on the whole trip, in fact: a middle aged couple who each rode their own rather than riding 2-up together. And "their own" were some nice mid-80's japanese inline-4's similar to Diana rather than the normal Gold Wing or Harley that comprised 98% of the two wheelers I had passed since leaving Ithaca 20 days ago. They were only out on a day trip from their nearby upstate town, but they looked like they were having fun -- I foolishly forgot to snap a photo of their bikes parked next to Diana before I left ... both had nice custom sparkly paint jobs on the tanks.
12 miles and change later, I'm in the village of Whitney Point. This is my usual launching pad onto I-81 when I'm making one of my frequent car trips from Ithaca to NYC or Philly. From here, it's all elementary, covering a nice 30 mile stretch of NY 79 that would be pretty scenic had I not seen it 1000 times before. I'm officially "almost home" now.
By this time, Diana was once again sounding like she had had enough. The engine noise was a tad louder, the shifting a tad stiffer; I was having trouble finding neutral between 1st and 2nd without the shifter just falling to either side. But there would be no major drama in the final approach home. I made a surreal stop into work to ensure I'd not be walking into a disaster the following day when I resumed my "normal" life. This bought enough time to ensure I'd be getting home the same time as Carrie from work. My ride home from NYC was now simply my commute home from work, albeit with a lot of extra luggage and road fatigue. I pulled into the driveway just as Carrie was walking up the block towards our front door.
We made it. No hotel bookings tonight. No worrying about whether Diana could hold out another day. No worrying about whether tomorrow would be the day a reckless driver finally took me out. No worrying about when I'd next get wireless access. And no having to repack all of this luggage back into the perfectly optimized spots on the bike the following morning. No, it's back to that other daily grind for me. And perhaps a month of detox diet to get rid of all the greasy food and exhaust I inhaled on this marathon journey.
More to come in the wrap-up. Thanks again for reading if you made it this far!
Here's the gallery for the final day:
-- Todd and Diana, officially off the road.
Posted by Todd at May 19, 2005 11:28 PM