When my eyes popped open on Saturday morning, the rest of the house was fast asleep. All week long the weatherman had been calling for sunshine and temperatures in the 50s. It was my day to head out for a ride.
After spending a lot of time off of the bike, the natural rhythm and routine of getting yourself dressed and on the road is a little… rusty. It is an act I’ve completed a million times, but I nearly dropped my Tiger as I rolled it out of the garage. It was a reminder that being complacent after a long layoff isn’t such a great idea.
For no reason whatsoever other than just because, I decided to head east. All the way east, to Montauk.
By the time I’d finished my journey out to The End, the wind was gusting. I think they were a little aggressive in calling for mid-50s. I was positively chilled through. That feeling stayed with me long after I was home again and then into the night.
With no timetable, no plan, no place to be – I stopped at the IGA market and picked up some turkey, an orange and a bottle of water then moseyed over to Theodore Roosevelt County Park to sit and eat.
There was a nice view of the horses at Deep Hollow Ranch. I talked to them for a few minutes and they just looked at me like I was nuts. The story of my life.
Feeling cold, I worked my way over to Spring General Store for coffee. They’ve got a nice, sunny porch to sit on.
As soon as I swung my leg over to dismount my bike, a guy pulled in on a Versys. He join me on the porch and we sat talking bikes and life for about an hour. A really nice fella.
When I left he shook my hand and said ‘you’re the real deal.’ Not sure what he was expecting when he first sat down with me but I guess I’ll take that as a compliment 🙂
Everyone that has ever passed through Long Island’s easternmost town of Montauk seems to know of the Memory Motel. The name is also special to many Rolling Stones fans.
In 1975, while staying in Montauk at Andy Warhol’s Eothen compound, Mick Jagger began penning a song called Memory Motel. It is a ballad about love and life on the road.
The motel was said to be one of the only places in town at the time to have a pool table and a piano and the band would occasionally hang out there.
We spent a lonely night at the Memory Motel
It’s on the ocean, I guess you know it well…
On the surface, the motel doesn’t appear to be anything special. The magic must come from the people who continue to belly-up to the bar and the fans of the music who are looking to touch a piece of the legend.
Have you been to the Memory Motel?
692 Montauk Hwy.
Montauk, NY 11954
This pretty much sums up my Sunday:
Here on Long Island it was a sunny, nearly spring day. Though the winds were blowing all day, the temperatures danced around the 50 degree mark.
I put the daylight savings to good use by floating around for 200 miles on the Speed Triple. It was one of those days that felt absolutely perfect.
How About You?
How was your Sunday? Did you get out for a ride, too?
In my travels out to Montauk the stripey awning of this roadside lunch shack always looks so happy and cheerful. Though I have never eaten there, I get the distinct feeling that whatever you order from the menu might be served to you by a clown and come with a personal bucket of confetti. But.. that’s just me.
I scooted a quarter of a mile down the road grabbed an outside table and had some lunch at the less circusy clam bar instead.
On my way home I wandered past the Pollock-Krasner House, former home and studio of Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner. I’m sure many people will recognize it from the movie Pollack along with the Springs General Store. I’ve never visited but sure would like to. This is the second time I’ve parked on the side of the road gawking at it.