When I turned off of I-95 at the exit for Havre de Grace, Maryland I had only one goal in mind. I would visit the Desert Storm muffler man.
As I approached the station where he stood outside, my GPS chirped “Approaching. Desert Storm muff-a-ler man. On right,” in that quirky way she does. Muff-a-ler. It makes me snicker every time.
This muff has some piercing blue eyes, doesn’t he? I feel like he could use a little Chapstick, too.
On a cluster of “Welcome to” signs that greeted me on the way in to town, I spotted one that mentioned a lighthouse. I hadn’t realized just how close to the Chesapeake Bay I was.
After I finished up with ole blue eyes, I looked up the lighthouse on the GPS and went for a visit.
What a sweet little light it was!
The Corncord Point Lighthouse stands a mere 30 feet tall. It’s just a pipsqueak compared to some that I’ve visited. But, what it lacks in height it makes up for in charm.
I strolled around the small park grounds and watched the sun’s light shimmer on the bay. It was just me and a few elderly couples milling about.
I lingered a while, soaking up some sunshine. The heat felt so good after the pouring rain I’d ridden through during the previous 24 hours.
More often than not, I don’t stop and explore local attractions. By my own doing I am usually focused on something specific and gems like the Concord Point Lighthouse go unnoticed. I need to work on slowing my brain down a bit and not always being on to the next thing. (I know, good luck with that.)
Do you follow those tourist landmark signs when you see them?
For all of the cliche popular images of the scary, hardened bikers – I feel like I must exist on the opposite end of the spectrum. When I’m out and about on my bike strangers approach and talk to me all the time. So much for a tough image.
I don’t think that I have an exceptionally friendly face or anything. Besides, most of the time people seem to want to talk to me when I still have my helmet on. No one talks to me when I drive my car anywhere. Is it the same for you?
Just last week while traveling through New Jersey, I stopped off to snap a picture of Nitro Girl. She’s the coolest Uniroyal Gal around. She stands outside of Werbany Tire Town in the town of Blackwood.
I parked my bike, took out my camera and snapped a few photos. One of the customers who was having his car worked on walked over to me and said “If you like her, they have bobbleheads inside.”
Jackpot! Thanks, helpful stranger guy!
Ten bucks later I was jamming my very own NG into my sidebag. Admittedly, I was probably more excited than is healthy. 🙂
Interesting – The website lists the bobbleheads at $25. The fella in the shop charged me $10. Did I get a deal because I looked like a hobo or have they been marked down? Who marks down Nitro Girl?!
While I was in the neighborhood during my super-donut-extravaganza, I decided to swing by the town of Groveland to visit with the local muffler man. Incidentally – his name? Yvon.(Formerly)
With decades of standing outside and leering under their belts, weather-beaten muffler men have been altered, they peel and need repainting and repair. And as such, each one has different characteristics that make him special.
Aside from being vertically challenged, (formerly) Yvon looks like a zombie-eyed Billy Mays. His axe – lost to time? Or buried in the unsuspecting skull of a roadside drifter? His eyes… blank white canvases capable of stealing kitten souls with a mere glance.
I visited the zombie muffler man of Groveland and lived to tell the tale.
The Riverhead Muffler Man Indian whose name I’ve just discovered is “Chief Running Fair,” was downed by the winds of Superstorm Sandy.
When I saw photos of the poor guy, torn in half at the waist shortly after the storm subsided he looked like he was reaching for a lifeline from next to his own still-standing legs. “I’m hit!”
My heart broke a little.
This weekend while we were bumbling around in the Ural, we made a pit stop to see him for ourselves. All that was left when we pulled up was his peeling pants. Insert huge frowny face here.
But… as I looked around, I noticed a few feet of his arm sticking out above a fence inside the grounds of the Raceway. It was kind of like he was waving to me saying, ‘I’m over here. I’ll be okay!” And I sure hope he will be. According to a Riverhead Patch article, the owners of the Raceway do intend to restore him.
Hang in there, big guy!
The mighty Indian just a week before Sandy brought her havoc to our area:
Since I feel like I need to work on my sit-still stamina a bit, riding over 250 miles to see a refurbished Muffler Man seemed like as good a reason to get out of bed as any on Sunday.
That would also guarantee me a 500 mile day. A “Tin Butt” as it were. Granted I can do a 500 mile day, no sweat. So, I’m not really sure what sort of stamina I would be building? But it seems like a good excuse that I can use from now until Void-time to get out for a day ride. It’s like… exercising, or something.