A Bee in My Blouse
by Linda Carruth

Friday, September 8, 2006
Another season of tearing up the countryside will soon come to a close, but we had a beautiful day today, one that was just warm enough for some short sleeve riding. This may be our last short sleeved day of the season, and just barely that. Today was the day of honky, quackie, and cammy. I'm calling this my regressive period. At least me spirits are up. My spirits were unusually high today and I was determined to milk it for all it was worth.

We decided to do another scenic loop today, but this time we'll come back via Rt 60 and head back into Millersburg. We left around 11am, after a quick breakfast and the ritual of getting ready for the ride. I decided to start out with long sleeves and a leather vest, but take the leather jacket for later, and to take a short sleeved shirt for warmer weather in the afternoon hours. I dusted off my bike and packed up, and then turned the bike around to point out of the driveway. The bike wasn't running very well, even with the choke most of the way out. It finally konked out and wouldn't start again. Scott came over and pulled the choke all the way out (even though I'd had it out for quite a while) and told me to let it warm up. I continued to put my gloves on and the bike cut out again. He crabbed that he told me to leave it and I said, just at crabbily, that I hadn't touched it. He flipped the petcock over to Reserve and the bike started right up. I was out of gas! I must have just barely made it home last Sunday. Apparently, I'm not getting 60 miles to the gallon after all. Actually, it would be more like less than 55mpg.

We went around to the gas station and filled up. Fortunately, I remembered to change the petcock back to On. We left out and turned left onto State Rd, heading south. It was a nice ride down State Rd except for all the construction. We went through a few school zones. I had to keep reminding myself that it was Friday, even though it felt like Saturday. We don't usually do long rides on Fridays anymore. Too tired from the work week, I guess.

We took State almost down to Rt 18, but we turned left on Granger Rd. There were signs warning of construction ahead, but I think Scott's motivation had more to do with lunchtime traffic in Wadsworth than anything. I was glad he did that but it really wouldn't have mattered. It just felt wonderful to be out like this. It was such a beautiful day though, and sadly, it may be the last one like this. Soon it'll be time for eskimo riding, even on so called nice days. I'm really feeling everything today and I feel so alert. I'm still reminding myself to think only of the ride. The day to day stuff creeps in from time to time but I have to be adamant in pushing it back out and slamming the brain door shut.

Since we weren't going through Wadsworth, we stopped for our first break at the little park on Medina Line Rd. Scott headed for the bathroom right away and I went for my camera, seeing a shot I missed before. While I was snapping pictures, two older guys pulled up and each used the the bathroom after Scott. Then I took my turn. By the time I had come out, the old guys were leaving. One had been checking out our bikes and asked if we were out riding today. Well, yeah, can't you tell? And no, I didn't say that out loud. The guy said it was a nice day for it, and would probably be our last. Boy, that idea just won't leave the ballpark, will it?

We got ready to go and left out. We turned right onto Medina Line Rd and headed south to Eastern Rd. We hung a right on Eastern and then a left on 94, heading south. We jagged over as usual at 585 and picked up 94 south again. The view when you're approaching 585 is just beautiful. You see blue farm fields way off in the distance, as the approach is somewhat at a highpoint.

The ride south on that part of 94 was gorgeous. I'm referring to the leg between 585 and Dalton (Rt 30). The corn is so tall already. It's such a nice ride through here. Rolling patchwork hills, gentle curves, and a couple of little towns. There's a spot where you come out of some trees, and head down a little hill into the open country, and it's one of my favorite spots. It always reminds me of old movies, and one newer movie. It kind of reminds me of the part in Thelma and Louise where they're traveling in the car and pass some obstruction as they move out into open spaces. That's a similar sort of breaking free moment.

One of the farm fields was bare and had some white powder all over it. I have no idea what that was. Some of it got onto the roadway and Scott kicked up some clouds of it. I hope it isn't harmful to breathe in. Still, this is such a beautiful ride and I'm loving every minute of it.

We stopped for our next break in Dalton. We parked next to a car by the building and the guy in the passenger seat just started talking to us. He told me I had a nice bike and I thanked him. The conversation went on from there. He was traveling with family members. They were from Fort Wayne, Indiana and were headed for Connecticut. He was hoping to find work there.

At some point, I had passed 9,000 miles on the odo, probably before we even stopped at that little park, but this was the first time I was noticing it. I changed into short sleeves, but only because I thought I would get too warm and not have a chance to change. I may end up being cool, but I decided to go for it. It may be the last time this season. I also changed into my perforated gloves. Up until this point, I had been wearing my deerskin Chilhowee gloves. I could use the extra generous gel pad in the new perfed gloves though. I backed up and went around to the right to leave.

We continued south on 94. Boy this part of the road is really getting bad. There are so many cracks and fissures in the road. My front tire even got caught in one of them briefly today. I felt the wobble and then it was out of there. Whew, that could have been a problem. As I suspected, the air was kind of cool, but tolerable for the most part. I almost wanted to put my long sleeves back on. As we got close to the end of Rt 94, I kept beeping my horn so Scott would pull over by the old cemetary there. I was going to put on something warmer. I also wanted to get a picture of the view from there. It's breathtaking. But, he never heard my horn, and I never said anything until much later in the day.

We took Rt 241 into Mt Hope, before turning the corner to follow it to its end in Millersburg. It was Friday and while the car traffic wasn't bad, the buggy traffic was thick enough. The road is in pretty bad shape too, until you cross over into Holmes county (from Wayne county). At that point the road widens with buggy lanes. I like those. Trouble is, the buggies don't want to stay on them. They move over for motorized traffic, but that's not the point. Those hard buggy wheels tear up the road and that costs the taxpayers money. Lots of it.

So we continue on 241 and just after we passed through Benton, I started to feel something. Going through Benton entails a sort of lengthy stretch of a 34mph posted speed limit. The road narrows on a hillcrest where there is a cluster of little stores and such. It's a while before the speed limits jumps back up again and it is still a good distance to Millersburg. So as I was saying, just after we passed through the heart of town, I started to feel something burning my left breast. It felt as though something had gotten down into my bra. Then it started burning my right breast. I brushed at it with my hand, knowing that this was not the smartest thing to do, but I'd had enough of whatever it was, stinging the girls. When I brushed at it with my hand, it immediately went below the bra line to my midrift and burned me there, just left of center. It burned so much that I was getting stiff and it was hard to move. Everytime I tried to move or shift myself just a little, it burned more. And strangely, it seemed like there was some kind of dust or particles burning me here and there when I moved, even if I moved just a little bit. It really hurt, but I had to concentrate as much as possible on riding. There was no place to pull over, although if I absolutely had to, I would have. I must have had gobs of adrenalin flowing just to cope with the situation at hand and surviving (riding the bike as necessary). Thankfully, I had no one behind me. I usually have someone tailgating me through here. Scott was WAY up ahead. I caught up a little bit a couple of times, but never for long. Everytime I moved, it burned in more places, so I stayed as still as possible. When we finally stopped at the bottom of 241, I asked Scott if we were still stopping.

We turned right on Rt 39 and moved slowly through Millersburg. We had to stop at a light and Scott started to ask me something, probably where the heck I was back there. I cut him off. I told him that something went down my shirt and was burning the hell out of me. The light changed and we moved on. We finally got down by Citgo and turned in. At last, I thought. And he pulls up to a pump. Like this couldn't wait until we were leaving? I'm in distress here. I was mad. I did notice that we had 73 miles logged so far and then he asked me if I got it out, and I said that no, I have to go take my top off. He told me to go and that he would take care of the bikes. That was more like it. I went in and made a bee line for the bathroom. No pun intended. Well, maybe a little. Once inside, I locked the door and took off my vest and then my shirt. Nothing fell or flew out. I took off my bra, and then I turned my shirt and vest inside out and checked those carefully. Nothing in the way of an insect. My person was another story.

I checked out the areas that had been stung. I had a tiny "hole" and a welt on my left breast, with a nasty red area all around it. The opposing area of my right breast was red and irritated. I had another "hole" and a welt, and a larger red area on my midrift. The affected areas were itchy and prickly feeling, but they didn't hurt anymore. I washed off and shook my clothing again before putting everything back on. When I was dressed again, I used the potty. No toilet paper. Geez. I had to break out my pocket tissue stash. I went back out and Scott had the bikes parked and was sitting at the picnic table. I told him what I found and asked him if he needed a snack, because I sure did. I went back into the store in search of some cashews. They weren't carrying those anymore (said the clerk) so I got some honey roasted peanuts. They were three for 99 cents, so I figured we'd each have one, and I put the odd extra one in Scott's saddlebag.

Scott seemed to think it was a yellow jacket that stung me. They're aggressive, especially when the morning has been cold, and they can sting multiple times without losing a stinger, and without dying. Come to think of it, I don't think they HAVE stingers; I think they actually bite you. He also thinks it just managed to get out all on its own. Well jeez, couldn't it have gotten out without stinging me, for crying out loud? I think he may be right though. Those things can leave an irritating substance on you wherever they touch you. That would explain the sensation of having a stinging dust inside my shirt. I have never knowingly been stung by a bee, and I'm still not absolutely sure because I didn't SEE it. It probably was though. That was too much sting to be from a sweat bee. They're just a little irritating. I've always wondered what would happen if I got stung by a bee. Some people are allergic and I'm so sensitive to some things that I just didn't know if I'd swell up and not be able to breathe. What an experience though!

Well, we ate our nuts, a bag a piece, and drank some cold Dr. Pepper. I was feeling better, but stressed. Scott went to the bathroom and asked me if I could fix the zipper on the cooler, which was beyond repair, and then I took another turn.

Drat. No toilet paper.

I know the insect thing is part of riding and I'm just thankful everything is okay, and that I managed. The part about being in distress WHILE RIDING bugs me more than anything. Enough said.

We turned left when we left Citgo and hung a right on Rt 62. We went south on Rt 62, and soon made a right turn where 62 splits off from 83. We continued on 62, which becomes a nice road after a bit. Problem was, we got stuck behind a slow moving camper trailer. We went to turn left on 206, and lo and behold, the camper guy was turning too. Just up the road, Scott pulled off onto the paved portion of an Amish driveway. There was just a tiny strip of pavement at the edge of the road. Scott pulled off and I pulled off right behind him. Scott told me he wanted to give that camper a head start down the road, so we could enjoy the scenery unhindered. That was good thinking, I told him. Not that we're in a hurry anyway. I tried to park, but I was on a slope with the short side on my left. My sidestand could not go down to park, so I just straddled my bike until Scott lit up and some time had passed.

In a bit, we continued on, eventually turning left on 715. We passed the spot where we would have picked up 206 again, and went on down past the dam. After another little piece, we turned left on Rt 36. We passed some pretty little campgrounds , seeming to be on some river. I think we were in Coshocton county by this time. We came into Warsaw and had to stop at a light. This was the junction for Rt 60 south. We would have to go on a piece to pick up Rt 60 north. We pulled off to the right, into a little gas station where we had stopped before. The garage next door was open today as well. Scott pulled around by the guard rail, and I pulled around behind him, struggling over a pavement hump at one point. I was closer to the guard rail when I finally stopped. I wanted to be out of the way; this place looked busy. I wanted to go to the bathroom, but some old guy just went in there. The guy was in there forever, so I decided to skip it. I was way over by the guard rail and would have to curl around and back to the right to pull out of there. Plus, I could barely put my sidestand down. The bike was just barely leaning on it. Scott said I was okay, but he wouldn't do that on a windy day. The bike weighs five hundred pounds. If I weigh considerably less than half that, closer to a quarter, and the wind doesn't blow me over, why would it conceivably blow the bike over? I didn't say anything. As is, the sidestand thing made me nervous as hell. I had to be careful throwing a leg over so as not to tip the bike in that direction. I was careful, and did just fine. I backed the bike up a little to give myself some room, and walked it around under power, pulling up to the driveway's edge. Scott pulled out. I had to wait to be stable, and then I carefully pulled out.

We found 60 north and turned left. It was a nice curvy road and I was not keeping up so well. It was certainly not by best, but some curves were sharper than ninety degrees, with 10mph posted speed limits. Some dipped down and back up, which resulted in a strange camber that was kind of odd to deal with. Hard to lean properly, although Scott seemed to have no trouble. I took my time to be safe. I have to ride my own ride, darn it.

Rt 60 took us through Killbuck and then it came back and crossed 206 at one point. It eventually took us back to Rt 39. We hung a right on 39 and stopped at Citgo again for a break. At last, a potty stop. And thankfully, the staff had replenished the toilet paper supply. Good, I was almost out of tissues. After that, it was on to Mrs. Yoder's. We picked up 241 after creeping through traffic in Millersburg. Traffic jam in small town America. It's still a pain. On 241, I stayed back bit for a while. That cindery roadway kicks up stuff that gets in my eyes. If I'm too close up behind Scott, it's noticeably worse. And there's lots of crack and bumps in that road, too. At the intersection where county road 201 crosses 241, Scott was kind of far up ahead of me. As I approached the intersection, a red pickup scooted across right in front of me. I had already slowed down and had some room. Somehow I knew he was going to do that. It wasn't long after that we got to the restaurant. The lot wasn't busy, and we could have had parking up front, but Scott went to the back anyway. He pulled around to the second last spot. Perhaps he's learned that we don't HAVE TO park in the most difficult spot in the lot.

Once parked, we changed our glasses, etc., and start towards the restaurant. Scott pointed out his previous sidestand hole that was still in the new pavement. He pointed out mine on the other side of my bike, too. As we walked away, he further pointed out a whole sea of them in the fresh blacktop. Hopefully he won't sink today; it hasn't been as hot, so the blacktop material shouldn't be very soft.

We went in and stopped to wash our hands first. We were seated by the front window that faces the front parking lot. We had a very nice waitress. They're all nice, but she was very friendly. We had the roast beef and salad bar, as usual. I had a bigger salad than usual though. We were both starved already; we got there around 4pm, which was perfect timing. That good food really hit the spot. Scott had coffee afterwards, of which I mooched a few sips for the ride back. And just as I was thinking that he wasn't crabbing at me so much anymore, he did it again. He started making chiding remarks about how I was a wuss for taking some of those curves so slow. I didn't think it was slow. He was smiling when he said it; I think he knows not to get me riled anymore. But beyond that, I ride my own ride. And he can't do anything about it.

After we were done eating, the waitress asked us if those were our two bikes out back. We said they were and told her where we're from and where we'd been today. Once we went back outside, we weren't in a hurry to leave, so I wasted some time taking pictures. I took pictures of the horses hanging around and of the farm just beyond the back of the parking lot, even though the horses weren't really cooperating for me. Scott pointed out a narrow worn path through the grass and around to a gate. He told me it was a cow path. When cows walked to and from the barn, they tend to walk in a single file. Now I know what a cow path is; I would have had no idea. We had been waiting around in order to bypass the rush hour at home, so all of this was a hedge in that direction.

I decided at this point to put on long sleeves for the ride home. I could probably have made it to Dalton. It seemed warm, but that doesn't really mean anything for riding. I just didn't want to chance having to wait until we stopped in Dalton. We finally left, using the parking lot entrance rather than the poopy alley. We turned the corner and started up 241, passing some buggies along the way. One got over for several cars and Scott, but after Scott got past him, he started moving back over before I could pass. I had to squeeze through on the center line to get over. The double yellow on a hill was not a good place to move into the oncoming lane. Thanks a lot, buddy.

It was a nice ride though. We slowed down on the hillcrests, watching for buggies. We traversed that bad road on the first leg of 94, all the way to Dalton. I think this side of the road is worse than the other side. I don't know. They're both pretty bad if you ask me. And, as usual, we stopped in Dalton for a break. We gassed up first and then I pulled up into a parking spot. We had logged another 89 miles at this point. We both used the bathroom there, and I stayed with my long sleeves and vest, and I'm still wearing my summer gloves. I just like the gel pads in those better. I'm wearing my coral pink long sleeved t-shirt. The material is warmer than regular t-shirt material and of course I like the idea of the bright color. Scott is still wearing a sleeveless gray shirt with his leather vest. I would be too cool in short sleeves at this point, and now, we've agreed that maybe we won't bother to stop in Wadsworth. If I don't have to go to the bathroom at that point, I'd just as soon ride through, than stop and deal with their Friday evening traffic.

We left out from there, again backing up and going around to the right. First we had to putt through Dalton proper. At one of the lights, I had Scott look down and see if my right saddlebag was strapped, just to make sure. I was pretty sure I had secured it, but I wanted the extra assurance. I have to speak fast and loud at stops, or Scott just takes off. And he usually takes off as soon as I stop. That's why I usually have to stabilize myself first, before taking off myself. We headed up 94, having a nice late afternoon ride through the rolling farmlands. It was even nicer when I realized that we had TIME this time. We weren't trying to beat the approaching darkness today. The sun was getting lower, but as tall as the corn was, the sun was still above it, not blinking through it. We jagged over on 585, picking up 94 north again.

So now we were headed up towards Wadsworth. I wondered if Scott would cut over to Medina Line, but somehow, I think he's just pooped enough to go straight home. We did end up rolling into Wadsworth and stopped at a light. Scott asked if I needed to stop and I said no, and that it was up to him. At another traffic light, I asked if he WAS going to stop and he shook his head no. I admit that I almost regretting passing on the stop, even just to stretch and shake my hands. While it is a habit, stopping for a break gives me a mental pick me up as well as a physical one. But on we went, turning off to head up State Rd.

I was dreading the Parma part, but I like the hilly curvy stuff that comes before it. With the sun getting a little lower, we will have to really watch for deer. That goes any time of day, but more so at this time. As we rode up through the countryside, it was apparent to me that it had cooled off. We always go through a cold patch up in through here, but it always takes me by surprise when I feel it. There's a set of railroad tracks that I swear is in a refrigerator. So, it's usually the Wadsworth stop when the leather jacket comes out, if necessary. It's even cool through here when the day has been scorchingly hot, but those times call for a long sleeved shirt or the jean jacket I keep in my saddlebags. Now, I'm really glad I already have long sleeves on. I can feel the extra cool air but it is staying on the outside, if that makes any sense. As I said, this material is pretty warm. If I'm just hanging around (not riding) and it's too warm for long sleeves, this is NOT the shirt you want to be wearing. The inside tags are long gone so I have no idea what it's made of, but I have three more like it in blue, green, and purple. I wear this coral pink the most because of the DayGlo-like color. Scott is still sleeveless; I don't know HOW he stands it. That's a long, long way to be cold. I know, because I did it once this season. Never again.

Here's the thing that may have saved him. We had a nice ride up State Rd, but then we got behind a really slow driver. This guy was holding up traffic; there was the slow guy, two cars, a Porshe Boxter convertible (with the top down...mmmm), and then us. The boxter joined our group turning onto State from one of the cross roads. The rest of us were just backed up traffic. The slow guy turned out to be an old guy, big surprise there, and he finally turned off onto 162. It seemed like the more nervous he got, the slower he went. A couple cars made moves to pass, but oncoming traffic never allowed it. Traffic movement improved greatly once the old guy turned off and one by one the two cars up ahead turned off. The boxter turned off at Rt 18. And then we were by ourselves again. At one point, I had car right behind me for a while, but then he finally backed off, and then turned off. It's funny how someone can tail you like that until their turn off is close. Then you know they're just doing it to be a pain in your ass. Literally.

So we were alone again. We came up over my favorite hillcrest and then stopped at the stop sign below. Scott said we'd take a break at Hinckley. I was glad, I could use a little break, if only to move some body parts in a different direction. It got cooler still once we got into Hinckley. At this point I'm betting that Scott is stopping to put on something warmer, rather than give the butt a break. We parked at the overlook and he put on a long sleeved shirt. We walked over to the platform and looked around. I noticed how beautiful the lighting was, so I dashed back to my bike to grab my cammy. While I was snapping pictures, by this time off of the platform. I heard some birds and told Scott. I told him I thought they were geese at first, but realized they must have been ducks, because geese are more honky and ducks are more quacky. I'm tired, okay? Scott looked at me funny; this is where my regressive period has most obviously manifested itself. So I'm taking pictures and Scott yells over that some quacky ducks just landed. Is he mocking me??? I missed the shot, but I really didn't care. And then he said, "come on, Quackie, let's ride." Silly tired beats crabby tired any day. I put my jean jacket on for the rest of the ride. It was just after 7pm at this point. I had thought about whether I still needed sunglasses or not, but the sun doesn't set until just after 8pm, so I'll need them all the way home. It's just hard to tell here in the park.

So we headed back to State Rd and turned north (left). Just a bit before 303, there was a guy sitting in a wheelchair on the side of the road. He gave us the nicest smile and a wave. I smiled and waved back. He's probably just out enjoying the evening and watching the various traffic go by. We were taking it easy through here anyway, or at least I was, this has been deer country in the recent past.

We stopped at 303, and then scooted across when it was clear. Riding up State Rd is still rural at this point, but it doesn't take too long before it starts getting busier. Once you pass River Rd (blinking yellow light there), where 94 cuts away from State Rd, the roadway changes and it gets busier still. Once you get close to 82, traffic starts to become suburban. Once it gets busier, we really have to watch, but I'm doing okay. We got through the contruction areas okay, but at one place where traffic jags over severely, a car almost cut me off and I was way over on the very edge of the pavement already. What an asshole.

It was pretty bumpy going up State Rd but we were doing just about five miles over the speed limit. This I can handle. It's the ten over that I can't do through here. On the Virago, I could manage, but this thing I ride now leaves the pavement at times. When I have to downshift or brake, it becomes a nightmare. I told Scott numerous times that we have to do no more than five over once we get above Pleasant Valley Rd. Truth be told, the stretch between Sprague and Pleasant Valley is getting its share of bumpy stuff too.

So we're in the center lane for most of it because it's not AS bumpy. What we used to do was the equivalent to weaving in and out of traffic. That's where the bumps and slowing down and speeding up came in. Now we stay in the center lane until we get past the Ridgewood area (after the long downward hill where you can see downtown and the lake), and then we get over to the curb lane. I usually have to pretty much stay in the left third of the lane, directly behind Scott, because of the road conditions. State Rd is bad, really bad. Anyway, we're getting close to Snow Rd already and we've been making a lot of lights. We had to slow for someone turning right on Snow, and then the light turns yellow. I reiterate, we were already going slow. Scott blasts through the light and I stop. The Hummer behind me had his right turn signal blinking and was probably pissed because now he had to wait for me. Too bad. My thinking was that the cross traffic would see me going slow and expect me to stop, possibly even taking that opportunity, while I'm going slow, to turn right in front of me. This is not the best time for me to be accelerating to blast through a changing traffic light. Later, Scott would say that I did right… like I didn't know that. He never did wait up ahead, he just went on home, as I expected he would. He simply didn't want to wait. That was fine, but I was tired and getting a little sloppy. Now I have to ride home in traffic by myself. It scared me at first, mostly because I felt it was an inopportune time for this to happen.

I got going when the light changed and did fine. I had to stop for one more light, but I made the rest. I turned right onto our street just fine and right into our driveway just fine. Scott was walking down the driveway kind of yelling "hey, where've you been?" Yeah, f--- you, I thought. Jokingly, of course. I wasn't mad. I was almost empowered. He was kind of apologetic but it was fine. I did fine. I do okay once I'm already out there, it's just GETTING out there that is a huge stumbling block for me. I have a problem there and I know it. It continues to plague me.

I parked and unpacked. We had logged another 47 miles at this point. 209 miles today.

I was still peppy for a while and then I really pooped out. I finally showed Scott my bee stings, if that's what they were. They looked worse than they felt, that's for sure. I used some Calagel, but when I used some Caladryl clear, they practically disappeared. (That was on Saturday though.) I iced my hand and watched part of Fever Pitch. I'd already seen it a few times, but I love the Sox stuff in that movie, the traditions and history. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that the Red Sox were one of the original charters of the American League, along with the Cleveland Indians and the New York Yankees. And maybe the Chicago White Sox. Not sure there. So many teams have been moved and renamed. I think moving a baseball team is a travesty. With all due respect to cities that have had their baseball teams ripped away from them, I think the one that has had the most effect was the Brooklyn Dodgers. The dust hadn't even settled before Ebbets Field was razed. For shame. In regards to the movie, Fever Pitch, I have gained a whole new respect for Boston. I knew about 1918. (Being an Indians fan, you pick up on these things. We last won a World Series in 1948 and we should have won in 1997. Don't get me started there. The fumble, the drive, the closer…) But I didn't know a lot of the rest about the Red Sox. And any town that loves their ball team that much is okay in my book!

Anyway, I'm icing my hand to be proactive, even though my new Power Trip gloves (my summer perforated gloves) are much better for long rides; they're not skimpy on those gel pads. After I iced my hand, I had to go to the bank and the drugstore yet tonight. And that was all the energy I had.

AND A WEEK LATER…

Sunday, September 17, 2006
I got up at ten this morning, which gave me 9-1/2 hours of sleep. I made breakfast and got ready to go, but I was kind of rushing, and I almost started getting myself tired out before we were to leave. But we left out and went around to the gas station. Boy, were they busy today! There was a gang of bikes over in the corner on the right side. I watched them leave as Scott went in to prepay for our gas. There was only one lady rider. She was on a Sportster and looked crabby. Don't we all though? It's just a look you get. Sometimes I'm smiling going down the road, but around people and cars, I get that look too. I believe it stems from the disregard we get from car drivers and in some way, it distances us from people who don't ride. I smiled at her anyway though, because I like seeing a woman who rides! Period.

We left the gas station, hanging a right on State, after we stopped on the side so Scott could light up. We turned right on Tuxedo and took that all the way up to Brookpark, and turned right. It's pretty cool today, but not as bad as yesterday. I wore a purple long sleeved shirt and my leather vest. I figured I could tuck my sleeves into my gloves, or if it warmed up enough, it would be easy to push them up my arms to shorten them. No cuffs on the sleeves. Scott was in a sleeveless shirt with a leather vest. I know that wouldn't have worked for me. I wore my perfed gloves because I like the gel pads better in those. After a bit, I found that I was getting used to the cold, unlike the day before. I was prepared though. I still had my leather jacket in my one saddlebag and the jean jacket (and long sleeved shirt, rain suit) and cammy in the other saddlebag.

We turned right on Canal, and had to stop at Rockside. What a short green light that is there. We had seen it turn red, we started to slow and it turned green. We went a little faster, but I was holding back just a bit. I didn't trust it, and darn if it didn't turn again before we got up to it. Even Scott remarked what a short light that was. Just as the light turned green for us, a car turns right in front of us. She just zipped right out there. Scott almost tried to beat her out where the two lanes merge into one, I could tell that's what he had started to do and then backed off. There's no way I would have been able to beat her too. So the car ended up in front of us, going really slow and holding us up. So what was the point of that quick turn, only to crawl in front of us?

Even I was getting tired of this. Luckily, we turned left onto the Pleasant Valley/Alexander Rd ramp. It's at this spot where Pleasant Valley becomes Alexander if you're traveling east and vice versa if you're traveling west. Canal goes under, but there are ramps on either side for going up or coming down. We come down on the other side quite often, but this is only the second time we've gone up. We had to merge onto Pleasant Valley, going west, and go over the bridge that spans the Ohio Canal and the Cuyahoga River. Just beyond that, we turned left on Brookside Rd. There were a bunch of bikes waiting there at the stop sign, getting ready to pull out onto Pleasant Vally. They were all sport bike riders, but I got some nice waves from them.

From there we turned left on lower Riverview and headed up that long hill that seems to just climb up on the edge. Scott kept slowing down to sight see, so then I had to slow quickly. Then he zooms off and leaves me behind. He kept doing this intermittantly. What the…?

We crossed 82, and continued on Riverview. We encountered a gang of Harleys at Vaughn Rd. Scott just waved them on as they turned in front of us, enabling them to stay together. There was a blond in the back with nice loud bike. It had a nice growl when she let off the throttle. We followed them for a while on Riverview until they finally turned right on Boston Mills Rd, and we turned left on Boston Mills Rd. It had occurred to me, while we were following them, that if all of us kept going on Riverview, that could be one long line of stopped bikes on that hill. Is that chick in front of us new? Would she be okay? Thankfully, I never had to find out.

Once on Boston Mills Rd, Scott was really speedy on the uphill trek. I was speedy too, but not THAT speedy. He went pretty fast up top too, but then finally backed it off. A couple times I thought he was going to pull over. We stopped at Old Route 8, and while we were perched to turn left, he said that we'd stop at Brandywine. I said okay, but I was thinking ewww. I still hate going in from that side. I think it's the prospect of that awkward turn into the falls area with a car stopped there to pull out. It's a tightie rightie and it slopes down the opposite way. I hate it.

So we turned left on Old Route 8, and then left onto Brandywine Rd, and all the time I'm praying that there is no car in the driveway when we're turning in. There wasn't. We turned in to park and it was fine. I did okay, just rolling in to park next to Scott. I also don't like going there on Sunday because it's more crowded and he tends to park on the low end sometimes. Then I have to walk uphill to the bathroom, and at first I'm usually behind him while he's smoking. Then he remembers, or I do, and we switch, but by that time some damage is already done. This time, after we got off our bikes, Scott pointed out a Goldwing and a trailer with Missouri plates. There was a couple over by a picnic table with a laptop. Scott surmised that they were checking on their location or getting directions. Now Scott wants a Goldwing again, with a trailer. I hope he doesn't think I'm going to start riding on the back again. Ain't gonna happen if I've got anything to say about it. And we need to take care of some things around the house before we even consider buying any more bikes!

We went for a walk, taking our cold pop with us. We just walked down to the first corner of the boardwalk. We didn't stay long, we both wanted to ride. We each stopped in the bathroom on the way back to the bikes. By the time we did get back to the bikes, the traveling couple was gone. As we backed out, and then left, a whole bunch of eyes were on me, watching me leave. I'm beginning to feel like a traveling freak show or something. Sometimes I like it and sometimes it creeps me out a little.

We turned right on Brandywine Rd, then right on Old Route 8, and then finally made another right on Boston Mills Rd to head back down the way we came. Coming back down this way used to be a little dicey for me, especially the holes, and then that tight right turn that goes down and curves back over a bridge, and the finally that long curvy hill down into the valley. Now it seems shorter. At the bottom of the hill, and around the first curve, we have to slow down a bit as there are pedestrians and bikes crossing the road. Towpath bicycles. We rolled through that little "town" there and saw the train stopped. I didn't figure it would be stopped for long, and Scott even said the same thing. We stopped behind an SUV and turned off the bikes. Scott took the opportunity to light up a cigarette as well. I still don't see how he can ride and smoke at the same time, but he does it all the time. I wish he'd quit already. When the train started to move, we started up the bikes and slapped them down into first. We crawled up to Riverview and turned left. We went on up Riverview and almost made the light at 303. We did have to stop and Scott said something to me. He's smiling so he must be enjoying himself. While we were stopped there, I noticed a hand fashioned sign, basically magic marker on printer paper, that read "ride your toys without the noise" followed up with a smily face. Ahem. I immediately thought of a couple things I'd like to write on there. One, maybe we could do that if drivers would notice us. We have be loud, we have to put extra lights on our "toys," and still, it's the car drivers who won't "play" nice. Two, maybe if drivers would stop pulling out in front of us all the time, we could be happy with stock pipes. And three, and maybe most important, perhaps if car drivers would pay less attention to their cell phone conversations and more attention to their driving— no, wait. The all important third point should be that car drivers should refrain from talking on their cell phones while driving. Period. Of course, between you and me and a lamp post, while none of these things will happen anytime soon, we would still love the roar of our pipes. Some more than others. But I digress.

Back to Sunday's ride, we went straight on Riverview but not too far. We turned right on a side road that at first I thought was Ira, but it couldn't have been, considering where we came out. It may have been Everett, but I'm not really sure. The road ended at another road where the street sign read Oak Hill Rd/ Everett Rd, I guess depending on which way you turned. I think we may have been on Oak Hill Rd because I think we came out here, at this point, last week or the week before. Anyway, we turned left, putting us on Oak Hill Rd. But I knew where we were headed. There were also signs posted saying Everett Covered Bridge with arrows. I think Everett comes in further down. You go through a little bitty town where that road ends. Sure enough, we ended up heading right for the covered bridge. We had to make that super tightie rightie there. There were many more tighties, but certainly not as tight as that one. It's about a thirty degree angle there. I had taken pictures the last time we stopped there, and from the bridge's vantage point you can see right down each road. We didn't stop this time, but ambled through taking the narrow curves and gentle hills as they came upon us. We've come through here the other way, but I don't ever remember coming back through this way, even as a passenger. There was even one surprisingly tight turn, complete with cindery gravel in the road where I just barely stayed on my side, and there came a bike coming the other way. I downshifted a lot coming through there, just to be sure not to be going too fast. Scott was going kind of fast on that narrow curvy road. Just as I knew we would, we came out by the Jonathan Hale Homestead. The stop sign just past that point is where Ira Rd takes a ninety degree turn. There are a lot of those in this area. After the stop sign, we were on Ira Rd. We hung a right on Riverview at the next stop sign and then took Riverview to Bath Rd and turned right. We went up through the hilly curves and back down again before straightening out and heading over to Medina Line Rd.

We headed down Medina Line Rd and took a break in that little park, Green Leaf Park. We parked side by side and had just gotten off our bikes to get something cold to drink, when a Royal Star pulls in and parks next to us. It was a couple and they had a furry seat cover that kind of blew in the breeze. They were from Bay Village and had been riding in the Cuyahoga Valley. They too had taken Bath Rd over here. They asked us if we were from around here and we said no, we're from Parma. The gentleman said that they had come upon a lake that was part of the Metro Parks and that it was on Medina Line Rd. At first, when he said lake, I though of Hinckley, but then when he said it was on Medina Line, I thought of that Summit County Metro Parks place that we've stopped at. He said he went pretty far down and couldn't find it. I asked if it was Cuyahoga or perhaps Summit County Metro Parks. And was it called something like Silver Creek or Silver Lake? He said that was the one. Scott had momentarily forgotten about that place, but then we proceeded to give them a description of about where it was, which was right before Medina Line Rd ended at Eastern Rd, and that there were two driveways. It circled around. Since it was further down, the wifey said they'd leave it for another day. They had just come home from a car trip that morning, and decided to go out riding today. The guy asked if both of the bikes were ours, and then proceeded to ask about my VLX. It seems that his wife had a V-Star but it was too much for her. Now she has a Savage and that is working out better for her. I had asked her about the clutch on the V-Stars because I aspire to riding one someday, but I'd heard mixed opinions about the far out friction point. She said it was terrible, but the more I realized just how new she was, I thought maybe her opinion was still overshadowed by lack of experience. I'm not being critical, I've just been there myself. It turns out that today, she was anxious to get back so she could ride her bike. There's a car show in their neck of the woods every Sunday evening. She said that's how she got broken in on the street. She also said that there aren't enough hours in the day for her to divide her time between riding with her husband on the back and riding with her husband on her own. I'm taking the liberty of deducing here that she is very, very new. Otherwise, she'd have been out on her own bike for the afternoon. I used to do that too. Yup, she's new. Very new.

We said we'd been all around today, and when we mentioned the valley and how we got there, that's when they said they did the same thing. We were just trying to figure out where we were going to eat today. They left out, heading for home instead of the lake, even though they were almost there. We hit the bathroom and then proceeded to talk about where we would eat. I felt like something good. I had running around to do that night and didn't feel like cooking after a long-ish ride. I suggested Hoggie's. It's good, it's close to home, and if we get colder, we don't have far to go after that. We can still ride for a while and then eating out won't cut into our riding time. That's the bad part about eating out later in the season, it cuts into your daylight and warmth. It was 3:15pm at this point and I told Scott that I was getting a little hungry but in no hurry to eat. He said we wouldn't ride too long.

We turned right out of there, heading south on Medina Line Rd. We came to one familiar intersection after another. I remember stopping at one, and seeing a car go into a driveway right on the corner. I'd never seen any cars there before, so this looked odd to me. We stopped, and crossed the highway once we saw no traffic coming. The traffic goes by fast. We took Medina Line Rd to its end, and it was a good little ride down to that park after all. Just before Eastern Rd, Scott hung a right on another little road. It turned out to be kind of residential, but still rural. It ended in a big empty cul de sac. Scott just made a big loop in it and I followed. I went over to the right to give myself plenty of room, but I didn't need it all. I came around, met eyeballs with Scott, and was pretty much even with the road coming out of the loop. Not uncomfortable in the least. We went back to Medina Line and turned right. We went that little ways and turned right on Eastern Rd.

Eastern Rd is a nice little ride, but we usually turn onto 94. We passed 94 this time, and I know we've done this before, but it's been a while. I'm thinking back to my Virago days. We continued on Eastern and the view is very pretty. The right hand side is all countryside. We turned right on a road only known as Main Rd. Now this one had a beautiful view. At one cross road (maybe 261) there was a breathtaking view that I wish I could have captured with the camera. I'd love to have a picture of that. The road went down a steep hill and back up, with a beautiful view of rolling farm fields beyond, and the view was that of looking through overhanging trees on either side. It was just gorgeous.

We were going straight, though. There was more nice scenery up ahead. This Main Rd that we were on ended at Greenwich. We turned right, and eventually traffic got a little busier as we started going through Wadsworth. Wadsworth looks big enough going through it on 94, but we went a good ways going through crosswise. When we came to 94, I got left behind at the light. This road comes into the older town square in Wadsworth. We were already going pretty slow when the light changed, so it only made sense to stop. Going slow and being behind Scott, I would have been pushing it to run through the light, so I stopped. I had hoped that Scott would wait up ahead. I assumed that I had only to go straight, around the large divider on the square, but I wasn't totally sure. He could turn off before he realizes I'm not behind him. It could happen. When the light changed I made sure the cross traffic had stopped and then I got going. I went around the divider and could see Scott waiting and watching up ahead. We kept going straight as I suspected we would, but we didn't go too far. We turned left on a road called Hartman, and the name was instantly familiar. I know we've come into Wadsworth via that road before.

I thought we had taken that road from Reimer or Fixler. Actually, it couldn't be Reimer because that ends at 94, to the east. We were either too far west or south, I believe for that to have been off of Reimer. I'm thinking it was Fixler. Anyway, this Hartman seemed to end at a crossroad, but now that I think of it, I think it jagged over to the left. We went right, on the first road we came to, which turned out to be 224, which goes through Wadsworth, along with I-76, right between Circle K and Citgo, our two favorite Wadsworth stops. I started wondering if we were going to end up on a freeway, but we didn't. We passed a freeway, and then the road we were on turned back into a two lane. We turned left on Medina Line Rd and headed back north. The intersection was the same one where a car had turned in earlier, the place where I thought it was odd because those businesses there always seemed so deserted.

We continued north. I thought for sure we'd end up going full circle and take a break at that little park again. I could have really used one. I was getting stiff and tired. But, no break at the park. Drat. I'm getting tired and hungry. I at least need some kind of body fuel. But it wasn't to be. We kept on going north and eventually turned right on Bath Rd to head back over to the Cuyahoga Valley.

OH THIS JUST CAN'T BEE
So we're heading east on Bath Rd, and I felt something hit me in the neck, on the right side. And then it stung. Just like last week. I tried to brush it away because it seemed like it was still on me, stinging me. I sure didn't want it going up into my helmet or down into my shirt. It just hit me and stung right away. It was just around almost to the back of my side, but still sort of on the side. It must have been another yellow jacket, if that is indeed what stung me the week before. They are aggressive right now because we've had some cool nights. When you have cool nights and warm days, yellow jackets get cocky. When we stopped at Rt 21, I almost told Scott to pull over into that parking lot there, but by that time, the stinging had stopped and I was okay to ride. I don't know if I was more incredulous or pissed off. I thought better of stopping, or even saying anything about it, so I kept my mouth shut and rode on.

We followed Bath Rd back over to Riverview. I went down through the hills and back up, and back down with little effort. When we stopped at the stop sign where Bath and Revere split (we have to turn left to stay on Bath), I just said to Scott, "we're stopping at the Quarry, right?" as if to say, we had better stop at the Quarry. I didn't say it real nice, either. Scott didn't seem too happy about it, but then he doesn't know what happened. Too bad. We're stopping.

We turned left on Riverview and it wasn't long before we were turning into the Quarry parking lot. It was busy today, and not much parking was available. Scott just pulled in to a single spot and I pulled in along side of him, but sloppily. It wasn't hard at all to park that way, I just expected him to do something goofy. Are we doing a curl to the right? Am I too far over? Whatever. I never know with him.

Once we parked, I got off and pulled of my lid. I asked Scott look at my neck and he said I got bit by something. Then I asked him if it looked like what I had the week before, and then he said I got stung by another yellow jacket. He just said stuff happens. No shit, Sherlock. I could hardly believe it though. I go fifty years without even being stung by a bee. Of any kind. Then, one day, I get stung in three places. Thin skinned places. While I'm riding a motorcycle, to boot. Then, just over a week later, I get stung again, only this time the bee HITS me and instantly stings me. Also while riding a motorcycle. What are the odds? It's all part of riding, I guess. Shit.

I went to the bathroom, just to walk. I needed to stretch my legs; I was stiff already from the ride, being so long between stops. I almost didn't go because it was so busy over there, there seemed to be a line forming. I walked back to the bikes and got ready to go. We'd go out to eat from there. I told Scott that he could take the short way if he wanted to, which would be Boyden Rd. Yes, that was a hint. I was hungry and I needed some comfort. Food will do for that. I was tired too, or I just needed some fuel. It had been a long time since breakfast.

We rode up Riverview to Vaughn Rd. As always, it was a nice ride. When we went to stop at Vaughn though, Scott was on the left and I had to pull up behind him. We went around a lot of bicycles in the middle of the road today, but this took the cake. There was a guy on a bicycle to my right. I couldn't get in by the stop sign. Scott stopped and then turned right. I pulled up to stop, and the bicycle guy was right there. I had no idea or indication if he was going to stop or to go and I didn't feel like going down because of his stupidity and inconsiderate riding etiquette. He seemd to slow down as I skipped along trying to figure out what to do. I let him go and then turned, trying to catch up with Scott. I stopped at the stop sign before the railroad tracks, but Scott was up ahead already. I caught up eventually by Boyden Rd.

We turned left on Boyden and took that over to Valley View Rd. We turned left on Valley View, headed down that way, and that eventually becomes Canal Rd. Just past Rockside, on Canal, we turned in by Hoggy's, which is in the Cinemark complex. We pulled in to park. I asked Scott to lock up my helmet and my cammy, and then I changed glasses and put my vest away. I hate wearing that stupid thing when I don't have to. We went in and washed our hands and then got seated. The ribs were great. The salad was different, no more crispy strips. I loved those on there. Oh well. It was a really good dinner. I was tired though, and wind blown, and distracted already. Fatigued. I didn't have much cheese left today, as I would always say. I told Scott that this dinner was far better than what I would have made. He asked just what I would have made and I told him that I had no plans, and that what I had meant was that this was better anything I could have made today. Anything. Scott said he almost took me to Cracker Barrel in Twinsburg (on 82, he told me). I said that would have been just fine, but he said that once I said Hoggy's, that was IT. Good. I'm glad we were in agreement. I needed a good one (dinner, that is) already.

We came out after dinner and it literally stunk outside. The wind was coming from the right direction— it must be the landfill up in Garfield Heights. They built a new shopping center at edge of the valley up there and had to dig deep into years of rotting garbage to do it. Probably the same garbage we smelled when we opened the west side windows back in high school. Now we're smelling it after dinner down in the valley. Sheesh. And to top it off, there was broken glass all around. I tried to kick some of it away, at least the pieces big enough to see. Scott just said something on the order of let's get out of here. So we did.

We backed out, and putted over to the south driveway. That used to be a difficult turn for me, and then to go down and stay in the little lane that points to the right, that was usually kind of dicey for me. Not this time! No problem at all. So we turned right out onto Canal Rd and headed for Brookpark (actually Granger down here). It was still warm out. My long sleeves and leather vest were still enough. It's a little warmer in the city, anyway. I'm really enjoying the ride again. Sure, I'm somewhat tired and not really ready for a long ride or anything, but it's obvious that I needed food. Fuel for my bod. I wouldn't mind riding around a little more than just going home, but it's getting too late to suggest it. What a nice evening this is, and I get to enjoy some of it out on my motorcycle.

©2008 The L.W. Wallace Co., Inc.