The plan has changed!
After much hmm-ing and haa-ing, I decided that I really needed to get my camping kit completed. The decision had much to do with the difficulties and hassle I had and was experiencing in finding suitable accommodation. I was spending ridiculous amounts of time trying to find something on or near my intended route or destination.
To date I had been using Bunk-a-Biker (BaB), and when that didn’t work out I was using cheap motels. Both here and in Canada, AirBnBs were ridiculously expensive; +/- $100 for little more than a bed, a shower and a toilet. Breakfast was almost universally absent. Using BaB to date, because of the weather, I had looked only for people with inside accommodation, and this limited the options.
There was another app that I discovered called HipCamp, which was like AirBnB but for campsites. On this a basic site, and by that I mean a place to pitch a tent with no facilities, would cost, at least, $25-35. This, however, was half the price of the cheapest motel, and using this I would not have to worry about bed bugs and other nasty things, which seemed to feature much too often in reviews.
Anyway, the upshot of this decision was that I had to get some cookware delivered and this was going to take 5-10 days, unless I was willing to pay half the price again for more speedy delivery. So rather than head south, towards the Carolinas, from Terrie and Bobbie’s I decided to go west to Ohio and then return to my new home from home to collect the delivery and then go south.
I set off on a damp drizzly morning having opted for a fleece under my jacket and my waterproof trousers, just in case. The forecast was for no rain, but … I whizzed along the same route as yesterday, towards Fulton County and soon was passing through McConnellsburg. From here on, as I approached Belfast township, I was looking for the “Belfast” road sign I had forgotten to search out yesterday. I passed through Needmore without seeing anything.
Oh, I don’t think I mentioned how this village got its name. As usual there are two stories: the one is that. When building the church, they were always short of material and cash and were repeatedly pleading with the congregation that “we need more”; the other is that the congregation was on the small side, so that ate every opportunity those already signed up were heard to say, “we need more members”.
Anyway, as I was saying. I passed through Needmore without seeing any mention of Belfast and was proceeding somewhat disappointedly when I saw a sign for “Township of Bethel”, the next township along. As I passed it I looked back, and there it was, a sign clearly declaring “Township of Belfast”.
Photos duly taken I proceeded happily on my way along R 220 through the remainder of Pennsylvania and into Maryland. The road was once again a pleasure to drive through rolling farmland and dense forest. Once more I was struck by the prosperous appearance of the houses – large (mostly) detached and with extensive well manicured lawns. It seems to be a bit of thing here to have a well tended lawn, kept under control with the aide of a ride-on mower. The other striking thing was the absence of fences. Where the houses were close together, they were separated only by the driveway. It would seem that privacy is not a big thing in the “yard”, as they call the garden here.
I stopped at a McDonalds for coffee, simply because it was thee where I stopped and was served cold coffee, twice! They tried to convince me that it was hot and steaming, just not hot enough for me; I saw no steam! Then I remembered someone telling me that McDs was sued by a woman who bought coffee, took it to her car and spilled in over her groin. She suffered 2nd degree burns and successfully sued “because the coffee was too hot.” So now they serve cold hot coffee!
After this the road became not so much sinuous as tortuous. The bends were tight and the road either steeply rising or falling. The only annoying thing was car drivers who cannot corner; they crawl around the bends, but as soon as there is a straight bit where overtaking might be possible, they hit the accelerator. I was able to pass them eventually and, even though I’m no Michael Dunlop, make progress, as City of Belfast’s Advanced Motorcyclists might say.
I completed my day’s trip after refuelling at Fast Freddy’s, where the pumps looked like they belonged in Fulton County’s museum. They were not vintage, but certainly were not installed yesterday. The other amusing thing about Fast Freddie’s, was the key fob on the restroom key; to stop anyone running off with it apparently.
My accommodation tonight is a mobile home which has been opened up just to accommodate me. The setting is rural, and now, after a one pot meal – the tin of meat and potatoes given to me in Halifax by Jan – I am sitting listening to the evening birdsong and watching a mini firework display courtesy of a bonfire of fireflies. I don’t know if they continue all night, but it’ll be quite something to see, once it gets properly dark, if they do.
I learned today, that 250kms is really the maximum comfortable distance to travel in a day. Even though the speed limits are between 72 and 89 kph, the roads and traffic make the average speed closer to 50. Why such odd limits? Well they’re 45 and 55 mph. Five hours in the saddle is more than enough.
I didn’t stay awake long enough to see if the fireflies performed throughout the night and by the time I awoke, it was daylight-ish. I set off at 0730 – an unprecedentedly early start! Seeing a diner called Mindy’s L’il Diner, close by I decided to stop there for breakfast. That was easier said than done and I had a bit of a tour of Salem’s outskirts before eventually finding it on the opposite side of the road than I expected.
As I was entering the establishment, which looked nothing like any other diner I had seen to date, the lady, for whose husband I was holding the door, said, “Last time I was in here, it was a funeral parlour!” Somewhat taken aback, the best I could manage was, “I hope no one dies here this morning.” Pretty lame!
Breakfast was pretty poor, but at least the lady was good enough not to charge me for the biscuits I didn’t take. J
Next stop was in a filling station in Athens. Whatever else it has, this Athens has none of the grandeur of its European namesake; certainly no acropolis here. The impression, as I drove through the town, was one of “has seen better times”, although I admit that this was the view from the saddle. However that said, I had had the same impression in Salem; houses here are smaller than in PA and visibly in need of a little TLC.
Anyway, there I was, minding my own business and having a coffee when this guy comes up and says he likes my bike. This is not an unusual occurrence, but he goes on to say that he has a CB500 Four in the back of his van! We have a great chat over the next 15 minutes, and he shows me his bike which is a very smart example of a 500 Four, modified sympathetically to meet his needs; travelling mechanic needing an off-road capable runaround. Once more I omitted to take a picture! Must do better!!
Next person I encountered was Angie, a post-lady, and biker, who was there to refuel her USPS van. We got chatting, as you do, and I was there for the next 45 minutes! Not that this was necessarily a bad thing. She called her husband who gave me some ideas for routes out west. Eventually I said I had to go and did.
The rest of the trip was pretty monotonous, being on 4-lane highway mostly. The worst thing was the wind which made a horrible racket in my helmet. This was the thing that was the most tiring. I relearned my lesson from yesterday that 250 kms was the maximum I should ride in one day. I made another stop in a little service station and had an ice-cream – a dubiously labelled Magnum.
An hour later I was at my destination, meeting Terry and his wife Rhonda. Terry is on crutches following surgery to repair damage to his knee after a bike accident last year and he is champing at the bit to get back in the saddle. I was shown my lodgings for the night; an annex to their home in Mount Orab, Ohio, in a super setting. It is rural, but about 6km from a reasonable shopping centre; a bit like St Ferriol, without the mountains.
A bit of shopping and I had some fish and chips – it was Friday after all – and a bottle of (disappointing) wine to end my day, sitting outside with the sun setting to my right, and for the first time today, not a breath of wind. Almost perfect! 😊
I forgot to mention that while having my ice-cream, I called the numbers available fro the historical societies of the two counties I hope to visit tomorrow. So I’m waiting for some good news.
Postscript: Neither of them got back to me 🙁
Belfast-2-Belfast-By-Bike 