Well, well, well. Would you look at this dapper gent with his new paint job!
The last time I stopped in for a visit The Big Man was suffering from a heinous case of the peels. This picture was snapped in 2012. He’d even lost his hat. Poor fella.
Seeing him looking so polished does the ole ticker good. Just look at that bowtie!
One of the funny things about Muffler Man repairs is how they become personalized. For example, the Uniontown, PA Bunyan with his bedroom eyes and the Stony Point, NY giant with his muy macho chest hair. Well, get a load of the lunula on this guy!
…and he matches the Bonnie.
Welcome back, handsome!
It was a good thing that I continued riding along River Road. It was not was not in fact closed as the sign had said. Or at least it was not impassable on the KTM. Your mileage may vary in a low-slung sports car.
Following the pink line of my GPS track, I headed southeast to a crossing of the Delaware River and back to the New York.
Sometimes things might not look so great when you’re standing on the outside looking in. Maybe they look drab, unkempt or perhaps slightly dangerous. But when you peel away the outer layer and get to the heart of what’s inside well, that’s where the magic happens. For people and bridges.
Riding on to Kellam’s Bridge looked a little sketchy, a little narrow, a little are bolts going to fall off this thing?
But, once I started going the camera picked up one of my most favorite-est photos in some time. It makes me feel like I’m speeding towards another dimension in a 70’s Sci-Fi movie of the week. I’m wearing a silver spacesuit and eating non-caloric cookies from a pill. Magically I grew to a lithe 6-feet tall and don’t have a wisp of gray hair. No, I’m 25 again and forever, hurtling across space – a perfect human.
And just a quick as it came… it was over. You’ve got to appreciate the magic while it happens.
Wikipedia says that this span is also called the Little Equinunk Bridge. No mention of any magic, though.
Where the Wallerville Road ended in Equinunk, I picked up River Road and followed it south. For a mile or two I was chugging along behind a van than was towing a trailer full of kayaks, heading somewhere to drop them in to the Delaware River. When the road came to a fork, he went left, I went right and sighed out of relief. I hate following any vehicle towing or carrying anything.
When I came to the point on the road where there was a “No Winter Maintenance” sign coupled with a “Road Closed” sign, I glanced down at my GPS. “Is this right?” I thought. The pink line kept going forward and I knew that Joe, who sent me the track I was following, had ridden it the summer before so I kept going. I figured my worst case scenario was that I would have to turn around and go back the way I came.
The road was a little bumpy, a little damp but nothing terrible. A few miles in, I came to a pile of flat rocks that was the bed of a nearly dry waterfall. As I glanced to my left at the steep drop off I was happy to not have to do some slippery moss-covered water crossing on my own. There was no cell service and clearly, not a whole lot of traffic. It would be a long walk out if to help if I needed it – assuming I survived the mosquito bloodletting.
Hey, look! The GoPro captured another shot of the Sasquatch taking pictures!
The lovely mossy waterfall. It was like something out of a fairy tale.
The road less traveled.
Falling there would be the start of a very bad day.
After donating 3 pints of blood to the bugs, saying hello and goodbye to the tiniest frog I’ve ever seen and assessing that I should be thankful that the waterfall was nearly dry, I got back on my little scooter and kept going. I still had to figure out whether the road was actually closed!
Boy, I’ll tell ya – getting the KTM was a really good choice for me. I can cover a fair amount of distance and confidently take myself down roads like River Road without worrying. Happy times.
On Saturday morning, I set off from Hancock, NY following a track on the GPS that my friend Joe had given to me. Other than being told that it was a loop of dirt roads, I was flying blind with regard to where I was going or what I would see along the way.
When you have no expectations, you can’t be let down. And I wasn’t.
GoPro snapped a picture of me taking a picture. That seems to be a common theme as I scroll through the days photos.
Sometimes I wish that I could take a photograph with my eyes. What comes out of something even like the GoPro is never what I saw. As the dirt roads wound their way through the trees, the light was filtering in through their branches. You could feel the moisture hanging on the air from the rain that had passed through earlier in the morning.
When I came around the corner on Wallerville Road, I was surprised to find a concrete retaining wall keeping the Factory Creek from eating the road. It seemed unusual for a lightly traveled place – so man-made in an otherwise natural setting. That said, it provided a compelling if hard and unforgiving contrast to the easy flowing water and the mossy layered rocks that it penned in.
I followed Wallerville road and the creek to the town of Equinunk under the green canopy feeling lucky to have been there.
On Friday night, I fell asleep before 9pm. It was probably a combination of things that knocked me out. I was up before the sun, I spent the afternoon riding in the oppressive heat and humidity, and add the mental relaxation of not having any real responsibilities in to the mix and I was out like a light.
When I came to on Saturday morning and tugged at the window shade, there was no happy blue sky smiling back at me. Soon came the sound of rain funneling off of the canopies and pounding on the roof.
Since I wasn’t riding the Hancock Quarry Run, I didn’t have to hurry up and do anything. Instead, I just lazily lingered in bed with Lilo and listened to the field come alive around me. The rain was sure to add an extra level of difficulty for all the riders who were preparing to head out. I was glad I wasn’t one of them.
“I think we should just hang out here in the air conditioning, dude. Do some snugglin’. Maybe eat some chips. Look out the window…”
All of the event riders were long gone before I got myself dressed to head out for a ride. The rain was little more than a memory and the heat began to rise. The unknown was calling my name.
Away we go.