Though the sun came out during the day on Tuesday and dried up all the rain, the storm came back that evening with a vengeance. We heard the rain start picking up while sitting inside the TV truck, and about twenty minutes into our live ECW show, there was a terrific CA-CRAACKK!! outside. A utility pole in the parking lot had been hit by lightning!

Needless to say, Stormbringer was parked in that same lot. Zeus old man, your aim ain’t exactly what it used to be! However, that lightning blast did take out some of the more sensitive gear in the TV truck. Somehow, our show managed to stay on the air.

Looking at the radar, there was one more huge storm cell pretty much right behind the one that hit us, so as soon as the show was over, I packed up my stuff, fired up Stormbringer and headed for the hotel. I was entertained on the trip by the almost constant blasting of lightning lighting up the sky.

The next morning I looked outside, expecting to find the parking lot underwater, but the sky was just overcast. No rain in sight, so I decided to head west a little bit for another National Parks Passport Stamp.

The National Parks people have a program where they offer a passport and ‘cancellation stamps’ to collect in national parks across the US. I started collecting them on my cross country ride in October. Before this trip started, I’d collected 26 stamps in my passport. Before I left for Buffalo, I loaded a bunch of stamp locations into the GPS, in hopes of collecting a few more.

Since it wasn’t raining, I decided that fifty miles west was worth it for a stamp that I never would otherwise get, so I programmed in the James A. Garfield National Historic Site, and set off. I had the distinct pleasure of watching as the sun burned off the clouds. Though I know Stormbringer’s curse will be eternal, I suppose Mother Nature took pity on me for the near drowning I suffered the day before.

The great thing about my GPS is no matter how many time I go off course, it will keep recalculating until I get to my destination. The not-so-great thing about it is, it doesn’t often take a route that makes any sense. However, since I wasn’t in a hurry, I decided to just follow the route it plotted for me.

I was on a four-lane divided road, enjoying the fact that the sun was peaking out from behind the clouds, when I noticed a policeman going the opposite way slam on his brakes and flip on his lights. Since there were no other vehicles on the road, he had to be coming after me.

Shit.

Well, Ol‘ Smokey the Cop must’ve forgotten the three plus inches of rain that fell the day before, because when he spun his car into the median to come after me, I saw gobs of mud fly up, and his car just… stopped. Ol‘ Smokey was stuck good!

I didn’t wait around to see if he made it out, I took the next exit, and started turning randomly down small back roads. After about ten minutes of this I was pretty sure that I was safe, though I was lost as an Easter egg. The GPS tried to get me back on course:

So I took a right on Old Johnnycake, and about an hour or so later, I was smack in the middle of… Amish country? Of course the one time I REALLY wished I had my camera handy the damn thing was packed away in case of rain! I was stuck… I swear I am not making this up… in an Amish traffic jam! Six horse drawn carriages blocked up both sides of the road, and nobody could pass. It was incredible!

Of course for the rest of the day I was on the lookout, camera at the ready, but I never saw another carriage. Ah well.

Thirty more miles of weaving and APB avoidance, and I arrived at the James A. Garfield National Historic Site. The problem with some of these places is… well… in a word, they’re BORING! Most times, unless it is an amazing place like Zion National Park, I just want the stamp. I don’t want to go on the tour, or see the boring assed movie. (Someday I’ll write a rant about how I REALLY feel about the National Parks Service, and I guarantee there will be a GFY award involved!)

I think even the woman behind the counter knew the site was dull, she gave me the stamp right away, and didn’t attempt to talk me into seeing anything. She even gave me a piece of scrap paper to make sure I got the stamp just right.

Scrap or not, I still managed to fuck the stamp up. Ah well, at least I didn’t have to see where James Garfield ate breakfast!

Moving on, I realized that the back roads were much more interesting than the highways, and I was enjoying myself WAY too much, so I decided why not take all back roads, all the way home? Not to mention Officer Muddy McPigpen was probably still out there and pissed off, if he managed to get unstuck from the mud that is.

My decision may have added a LOT of miles to my trip, but the back roads of Ohio were just too beautiful and interesting to pass up. If I had to add a day to my trip and get home Friday, so be it!

I wonder if Garmin makes a chrome GPS?

Heading home on CR-22, I spotted a sign for something called the ‘Covered Bridge Trail.’ Perfect! Might be even more out of the way, but the weather was cooperating, so I figured, why not?

I followed the signs to two really nice old-fashioned covered bridges.

I liked these two so much, I wanted to see more. Following the signs led me to a really small road, then eventually the road ran out and I found myself on a dirt path. Would there be another covered bridge down this road? No matter, I’d decided to take back roads, and this was about as back as back roads get.

Soon enough I found my third covered bridge of the day.

No doubt there were more around, but it was getting late, and I needed to start making my way east.

I put the location of another National Parks Passport stamp into my trusty GPS, and headed towards Oil City, Pennsylvania. I spent the rest of my time in Ohio meandering past old barns, farms and gently rolling hills. I thought to myself, why not extend this trip indefinitely, take back roads all the way to Tierra del Fuego!!

Well, it’s not QUITE Tierra del Fuego, but it’s at least in the right direction to get home. I followed the GPS directions all the way to Oil City, in hopes of adding yet another stamp to my book. The park that I ended up in was a children’s park, complete with a see-saw and slides. I got a few dirty looks from some Mommies (definitely NOT MILF’s by the way!) for riding my obnoxiously loud motorcycle through their park. And I didn’t get a stamp for the effort either.

Frustrated, I pulled out my trusty analog map. I noticed I was close to the Allegheny National Forest, so I headed that way. Man was it worth it! The Devil’s own road – Route 666 – was probably the finest road of the whole trip.

Finishing that awesome ride, it was really starting to get late. This back road thing is fun, but you don’t really get anywhere in a hurry. I headed across Route 59, and stopped in Bradford, PA for the night. Bradford is the home of Zippo lighters, which my riding buddy Abi and I visited on a trip last year. I was too lazy to bother and go take a picture this time, so here is one from that trip:

Yeah, the building still looks the same. And yeah, I still miss the Hayabusa.

With a room secured at the poorly named Comfort Inn, and my belly filled to bursting at Beefeater’s Restaurant, I happily turned in for the night.

About 400 miles, all on country roads, maybe my finest day of riding ever!

Author: frenchy