Steaming Hot Fourth

Where did you go on your Fourth of July weekend?

On our long weekend, we rode about 325 miles in 85-95 degree heat, to the west side of the state. In celebration of the holiday, I pinned a small American flag to my rear bag.

We stopped frequently for drinks and snacks, as well as gasoline and to fill up my tires, which seem to have a slow leak. But riding in that kind of heat and humidity takes it out of you. I found myself getting crabby and tired faster than I should have.

I decided I need a cup holder on my handlebars. Ironman has one, and the lucky dog got to sip icewater all along the road, while I dreamed about the warm water just out of reach in my bag.

We took state highways and county roads. Along the way we encountered stop-and-go traffic (always annoying, but especially in the heat), one pickup driver who didn't bother to stop and wait for his turn at a four-way stop and two roadblocks for small-town parades (we got a little lost on a detour, but isn't that part of the fun of motorcycling?).

We also drove on many kinds of road surfaces. Mostly paved, some gravel, but the most interesting were freshly pressed steaming blacktop (kind of slick); a stretch where the road had been chewed off (groovy and bumpy); a section with stretchmarks of patching tar melting in the sun (slick and tending to redirect tires); and the worst conditions of all, sandy two-track.
 

"I hate sand," Ironman said after I'd dragged him into yet another dead-end, looking for a hiking trail.

We managed to get out of it without either of us dropping a bike.

"But what an adventure!" I shouted with joy once we were on our way.

I did drop mine on its side one time as I was starting into turn left on gravel and a car sailed into our path around a blind curve. I hit the front brake and skidded sideways. That was a bummer, but nobody hurt.

On the plus side of the scale, I did pull at least one perfect U-turn without putting a foot down on one of several turnbacks. ("Oops! Wrong way ... sorry!")

We rode across the state to Saugatuck, one of our favorite places for Fourth of July fun. It's known as Saugatuck/Douglas, because the two cities are only two miles apart, and share a police department. It's an artist colony, with galleries, shops, excellent restaurants and live music, as well as being a haven for gay couples. We rode the chain ferry, pulled across the Kalamazoo River by a hand crank, and walked to Oval Beach, on Lake Michigan, where families were happily sunning, swimming and building sand castles. We got cool water and sand in our water shoes, then walked back, carefully choosing the shady side of the road.

There was a parade Sunday afternoon, for which we had a nice, shaded roadside view from the seat of Ironman's Vulcan Nomad, and we sat in the grass by the Coral Gables that evening to watch fireworks over the busy Kalamazoo River.

(Video to come!)

Although it would have been good practice, I'm sure, to drive in the overflowing tourist traffic in Saugatuck, I made the choice to park my bike at our motel in Douglas and ride two-up into town. I can't drive after dark on my permit anyway, and it just seemed less hassle maneuvering around the place and parking.

I did do something new on my bike, though. On the way home, we drove past a road we needed to take and the quickest way back was to jump on the freeway, something we usually avoid. It was my first time driving a motorcycle on the freeway, and I have to say, I didn't love it.

It wasn't the speed that bothered me, but the wicked wind. We only went a few miles. My bike weighs a little more than 500 pounds, which I thought would be enough, but I still felt as if I were being battered. I was glad to get off and back down to 55 mph.

See ya!