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Salem, OR

We cross Shasta Lake in the moonlight under a sky filled with stars. Old Danny Boy had the throttle locked on 55, I wasn’t even in high gear. As we rumbled along the otherwise empty freeway, he made a resolution for the day. No moping. In fact, this would be a day of celebration – a ride to relish.

The trek across Northern California was beautiful. The sun rose over Mt Shasta and illuminated the jagged peaks to the west.

As the day progressed, so did the throttle. By midmorning we were flying along with traffic as I-5 drops from the Siskiyou Mountains into our beautiful home state, Oregon.

JP had a cold drink for ODB

We had an 11 AM meet-up set in Springfield with blog master, John Perry. He takes my e-mails, fixes them up pretty, and then posts them on the blog he set up especially for me. You may be reading it now.

...and a kiss for ME!

Jonathan Perry witnessed the event and Art Kennedy took the photos.

And then it was on to Salem. He makes this trip ten times a week; he lives in Salem and works in Springfield. But in the context of MMPAA 12, that last 65-mile leg seemed quite short.

If you’re interested in details, there is more information below.

But for now, I’m going to call this done. ODB is back with The Love of His Life who can, and does, love him back. He returns to work driving a big green bus that bends in the middle on Monday.

Me? I’m happy to be home safe and well. And frankly, I’m looking forward to some alone time with that lime sherbet Vespa scooter.

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Blog Master John Perry reports: “As of 12 Noon, August 3, 2012, (the blog) “Travels With the Mighty Mary Ellen (and ODB)” had 1,190 views, including 94 from the U.K., 86 from Russia, 4 from Germany, 1 from South Korea, and 1 determined soul from Malaysia.”

MMPAA 12 covered 11,193 miles in 31 days (25 riding and 6 resting).

We traveled in 32 states and the District of Columbia listed here in order of appearance.

Oregon

Idaho

Utah

Colorado

A memento for JP

New Mexico

Texas

Oklahoma

Kansas

Nebraska

South Dakota

North Dakota

Minnesota

Iowa

Illinois

Indiana

Ohio

Pennsylvania

New York

Vermont

New Hampshire

Maine

New Hampshire

Massachusetts

New York

New Jersey

Delaware

Maryland

Washington DC

Virginia

West Virginia

Maryland

West Virginia

Ohio

Kentucky

Ohio

Indiana

Illinois

Missouri

Kansas

Colorado

Utah

Nevada

California

Oregon

(Google Map Update)

(Ed. note:  It's been my intense pleasure to create this blog for my friend Dan.  What Dan has lived is one of the most amazing experiences anyone can hope to accomplish in a lifetime, and to "be there" with him is privilege I will never forget.  Like I said in 2009, what it is, is envy.  Congratulations Dan!  So where are we going next year? - JP)  

Last Day On the Half Dollar

Near Echo Pass on US 50

Redding, CA

Here we are, our final day on the Half-Dollar Highway. On day three of this journey we traveled the Million Dollar Highway across the Rocky Mountains. Today’s ride took us through the Sierra Nevada range.

The climb to Echo Pass was amazing. For starters, we had another one of those bright and cloudless mornings. My oversized engine was made for this sort of riding. Old Danny Boy did his best to hold me back but a motorcycle’s got to do what a motorcycle’s got to do.

The ride up the east side didn’t take that long. Carson City sits at 4,705 feet. The pass is 7,382. By the way; we’ve been through Yosemite on a clear day like this one. The El Dorado is Yosemite’s first cousin – stunning vistas and one very pretty lake, Tahoe.

We stopped in Placerville on the way down on the other side of the mountain. They call it Old Hang Town. She Who Holds Down The Fort calls it, “My home town.”

From P’ville things kept going downhill. Echo Pass is 7,382. Hang Town sits at 2,146. By the time we reached the official end of US 50, 94 miles from the pass, the elevation was 15 feet. That’s a long way down.

I’m afraid Mr. Boy was a bit down, as well. He was pleased that we did what we set out to do. He didn’t hurt himself, hurt me or anyone else. He didn’t get any tickets. We navigated The Most Dangerous and the Loneliest Roads in America. We followed 83 from Mexico to Canada. We followed 50 from end-to-end – Ocean City to Sacramento. We visited family and friends. And I wrote the journal. Still, his satisfaction was tinged with sadness. He’s been chasing this dream for a long time. Now, it’s almost over.

We’re northbound on I-5. This afternoon it felt a lot like a really long commute from Eugene to Salem. He thought about pushing all the way home but I wouldn’t let him. I insisted we follow the plan. We stopped at 102-degree Redding and parked it for the night.

Bright and early in the morning (I told him it was okay with me even if it was dark and early) we hit the highway for home. One more day to ride, one more report to post, and this trip is in the books.

(Google Map Update)

The Journey Is All There Is

“The morning breaks eternal, bright and fair.”

Fallon, NV

Lonely? Yes it was. Desolate? Not at all. Neither was it hostile nor harsh. In fact, “The Loneliest Road in America” segment of US 50 may have been the best ride of the 3073-mile road.

Yes, there were long straightaways as it traversed huge basins. However, the rider was rewarded at each end with twisty turning climbs into or out of those basins, often sandwiched between towering rock formations.

The ride down into Austin, UT from the east was downright hair-raising. (Didn’t mean to leave you out, Old Danny Boy, I was just a saying . . .)

So Mr. Lead Fist actually took it fairly easy today. The road is posted 65 in Utah, 70 in Nevada. We stayed under 80 most of the time. Not a problem until the very end of the day when we came up behind what turned out to be a sheriff. We were going 75-78ish. Evidently that wasn’t fast enough to get us pulled over. Still, it was close. ODB lucks out . . . again.

But here’s the thing. They call it “The Loneliest Road in America” for a reason. (Other than because it’s in America.) All that solitude – with hours between towns and very little traffic – lends itself to introspective contemplation. I knew this was brewing. I know ODB better than I know myself.

He calls these trips his MMPAA (Major Motorcycle Pilgrimage Across America). We’re getting close to the end of this one and he’s getting tired. I think that helped him get out of his own way as we talked today about the journey.

We decided that going from Point A to Point B is a myth. There was no Point A. There is no Point B.

That’s true in life, as well. I didn’t come into existence when I left the assembly line door. I am the sum of my parts that previously existed. Just as ODB didn’t come from his mother’s womb. He came through it.

We remembered how it felt when we got to the end of US 20 on the 2009 MMPAA. We followed that thing relentlessly from Newport, Oregon to Boston, Mass. When we finally arrived in Boston, there was nothing there but another road. When we started the trip, we didn’t just magically appear in Newport, we got there from somewhere else.

ODB has been around death in the past few months. In March, he and Al the Fisherman held their friend Rich as he died and witnessed first-hand the miracle of death – the transformation from a person here to a person forever gone. Three months later Erin, the mother of his youngest daughter, died. He went with his daughter to visit Erin’s body one last time. Again, witnessing the wrenching finality of death.

Today, the spirit of Erin and Rich were present on our journey. Of course his dad paid a visit, as well. It was reassuring to have their company.

The end of life’s journey is not the end of the road, nor is birth a starting point. They are turning points. Just like US 20 was in Boston and Newport, and just like we’re going to find tomorrow where US 50 ends in West Sacramento. The road we follow ends. We make a turn and keep moving forward.

There is no Point A. There is no Point B. Life is a journey. The journey is all there is.

(Google Map Update)