Tag: route 6

Route 6 Wondering and Wanderings

Route 6 Wondering and Wanderings

What is the psychological draw to follow single coast-to-coast or transcontinental routes? I’m talking about routes like US 6 or US 20. If you’re standing on the roadway you may have one end of the ribbon dipped into the Atlantic while the other is being pounded by the surf of the Pacific.

Route 6

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Growing up, I lived just south of the Bear Mountain Bridge and Harriman State Park. When I started riding motorcycles, seeing Route 6 signs became a fixture of my rides. My stomping ground weaved in, over and around 6 where it passes through New York and Pennsylvania.

Since I’ve lived on Long Island, I’ve passed over Route 6 while heading north across Connecticut many times. But I haven’t followed it for any length of Connecticut, Rhode Island or Massachusetts. I’ve skipped it even though it’s just… right… there.

After visiting the Gemini Giant in Wilmington, Illinois, the following morning I picked up Route 6 in Napoleon, Ohio and followed it to Pennsylvania. I’ve also come to Route 6 from the eastern side of PA and ridden sections of it in the middle. I’d be surprised if I haven’t ridden the full length of the route that passes through the Keystone state. I just seem to do it in pieces and parts versus straight through. That’s been my approach to Route 66, too.

Route 6 Snapshots

The Red Rose Diner in Towanda, Pa.: 472 Miles to Province Town, MA – 3180 Miles to Long Beach, CA.

The old fire station in Meshoppen, PA

6 to 666 in Sheffield, Pa

The Milford, PA Bigfoot

East Beach – Lorain, OH – Route 6 and Lake Erie

East Smethport, PA Post office

Serenity Glass Park, Port Allegany, PA

A mural in Coudersport, PA

Mail Pouch Barn on 6 and 146 in Mount Jewett, PA

Marie Antoinette Overlook – Wyalusing, PA

The Wellsboro Diner – Route 6, PA

Red Rose and Crossing the Border at the Banana Curve

Red Rose and Crossing the Border at the Banana Curve

After leaving the Marie Antoinette Overlook, I continued on Route 6 to the town of Towanda, Pennsylvania.

My next stop would be for some breakfast at the lovely time capsule The Red Rose Diner. It sits 472 miles from Provincetown, Massachusetts on Route 6 to the east and 3180 miles from Long Beach, California to the west.

If you’re in the area, don’t skip it. It’s worth stopping for a bite. The owner is a super friendly former rider who takes pictures of the travelers who belly-up to the counter for some grub before they set off again. Even if you try to resist. 🙂

“Ladies Invited” made me snicker.

Everyone bags on hipsters. Artisanal this, artisanal that. But when I see lovely old things that might be made by hand like the center part of this cemetery gate with its gold lettering and swirly filigree – I think maybe those beardos are on to something. Making beautiful things with your hands seems like a worthwhile endeavor. Everything doesn’t have to be done in a bland, hurried way.

Now, I don’t profess to know much about anything, really. But I know even less than that about this:

It’s a… dinosaur… tree? Granted my thoughts go off on wild tangents every so often. One minute you’re thinking about boiling an egg and the next thing you know you’re remembering being in a basement in Italy. The brain is a mysterious thing. But I’m not sure that I’ve ever plumbed its musty depths so deeply that a lovingly painted, chainsaw-carved dinosaur tree would’ve come to 3 dimensional fruition. This is the perfect example of why crazy people are awesome. They keep you guessing.

Look at this sweet baby <3 I can’t resist stopping to say hello to donkey-friends. Even when they throw shade and sideways glance me.

I crossed the border from Sayre, Pennsylvania back in to New York but not before passing this sign outside of the hilariously named Banana Curve Diner.

Sage advice.

The View From The Marie Antionette Overlook

The View From The Marie Antionette Overlook

On the surface you might look at things like Instagram as a time wasting folly. But I’ve come to realize that as superficial as my scanning of photos may seem, it also provides me with idea-seeds.

My problem seems to be cataloging or having a tidy way to tie all of my idea-threads together. For a while I used Evernote. But there is something that I just don’t like about it. Lately I’ve been using Slack to digitally collect random snippets. I find it a nice way to collect, categorize and search things. Plus, I can just share stuff directly to a channel through iOS which seems to be half the battle.

All these “systems” I have in place to remember things…::sigh::… I’m not sure they really help. They’re probably just ways to feed my addiction to information. But at least they reallocate enough mental drive space to the functional part of my brain that I need to ride my bike.

When I scroll through my digital notes and make the move to write something down on paper? That’s when I know I’ll be visiting it. Paper seems to be the thing that sets something in stone. Funny, isn’t it? Why don’t I just stick with writing things down on paper, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you! I have no idea.

One of my more recent scribble-downs was the Marie Antionette Overlook along Route 6 near Wyalusing. It’s just a hop skip and a jump from the Giant Chicken Army, actually. I’d seen a photo of the stone turret-like structure looking out across the valley and over French Azilum and decided I should probably go and take a look at that one day when I was in the neighborhood. So… I did 🙂

The Route 6 Giant Chicken Army

The Route 6 Giant Chicken Army

It’s been a while since I posted any news from the front lines of the Giant Chicken Army. But that is about to change, my friend. On Route 6 in the town of Wyalusing, Pennsylvania I stumbled across a mass-gathering of the feathered fiends.


Apparently they come in all flavors :-/

Up the road a piece I also saw the tank unit. You’ve been warned.

Other Posts about the Giant Chicken Army

Making My Way Toward Route 6

Making My Way Toward Route 6

When I woke up and looked out the window, there was a cool fog hanging over everything. The world around me was still asleep when I set off for the day. Because it’s August I had only my mesh jacket – which I suffered with for the next hour. I never would have imagined that even in the mountains it would have been cool enough in the 6 o’clock hour to feel like I might need to switch on my heated grips. But… it was. As my engine thumped, I gave the occasional shudder as a result of the cold.

While you’re in the thick of things, you assume that your circumstances will be same everywhere. But often, if you just keep moving forward you can rise above the clouds and out in to a big hug of sunshine.

Riding out of the valley, I was treated to an incredible cloudless sky. Just behind me, the fog-covered valley along the river looked like the Maloja Snake.

There are so many lovely dirt roads that skirt the aprons of farms throughout northeastern Pennsylvania. I have persistent romantic notions about the lives lived in such places. It’s probably best that I never investigate the truth and carry on with my naïve and wistful ideas. They help to shape my perception of the good life.

A year ago, I talked about how it seems that once you see something, it becomes easier to do it again. Over the last few weeks I’ve experienced more examples of this being true. After never having seen the Starucca Viaduct until a few weeks ago, I found myself once more passing below its arches.

Could it just be that my brain subconsciously moved me through an area that was “familiar”? Probably. But I like to think it’s some sort of magic. Life is more fun that way.

This gorgeous dairy farm was along the way towards Route 6. My romantic imaginings have it occupied by an overall-wearing farmer who drives a tractor with heart shaped smoke that puffs from its exhaust stack. The cows with flower-crowns sing in their stalls. Every day a scarecrow waves good morning.

When I finally made it to Route 6, my first stop was the tiny old Meshoppen Fire Department building. It looked like you could pick it up and put it in your pocket. Instead, I left it where it was for the next person to enjoy and kept going west.

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