So what of my new perspective? Well it isn't really. Yes, I
beat all the coaches and the majority of other tourists to the Falls, but for
me it has been completely ruined by the mass development that been allowed to
overshadow the attraction itself! I found the Cave of the Winds which I been
told about, but of course I was too early and would have had to wait about an
hour. That in itself I wouldn't have minded too much as I had all day to kill.
Then I read on the notice that the Cave wasn't actually a cave at all and the
“Hurricane” viewing platform, one of the main attractions of the Cave of the
Winds, was closed for refurbishment! Which really didn't leave much to get
excited about. Of course there was no mention of a reduction in the $38
entrance fee, so I passed. I wandered down to another viewing platform which
was right on the edge of the falls at Goat Island, but even that, whilst giving
a fairly spectacular view, was spoilt by the huge amount of rubbish tossed over
the barrier to lay as a complete eyesore at the very edge of the falls. It
would have taken one on the staff no more than half an hour to clean the place
up. However when I spoke to a staff member about it I was told it was due to
staff shortages. That, in spite of millions of Dollars being spent on a whole
raft of refurbishments to try to extract even more of your hard earned Dollars,
Pounds or Yen! By this time I’d had enough and decided it was time to vote with
my feet and move on, even though I had booked to stay at the campsite for another
night. So back to camp, a quick packing session and I was still away by a
little after 10am and heading west, across country, towards the Windy City ; Chicago .
It was still a long haul to do in a day, way too far with a
relatively late start and in the event I stopped the night a bit over halfway
at Sandusky .
The ride had been quite tough along the US20 with a couple of diversions for
road works, thrown in for good measure. Bearing in mind that only a few days
ago it was snowing in the morning when I popped my head out of the tent, the
weather had changed dramatically with a high of 42c being seen around the
middle of the afternoon. The camp site at
Sandusky was
huge, with a vast number of cabins to rent, but it had clearly seen better
days! There was apparently a bike rally
in town over the weekend, so lots of Harleys and one lone Yamaha were also on
the site, Of course most of the Harleys turned up either on trailers or in the
back of huge RVs! I think just myself, the guy on the Yam and just one of the
Harleys had been ridden to the site! Guess who’d travelled furthest? I was grateful
for the ear plugs I always carry when camping as the pitch I was on was right
next to the Interstate and the traffic was heavy, right up to the point I fell
asleep. It was a fretful nights sleep as I was feeling unusually homesick! And
even a couple of rather nice, locally brewed Black & Tans did little to
ease the feeling.
Saturday morning I set off with the firm intention of
getting to Chicago
and possibly a bit further. The ride was nothing to get very excited about as I
stuck more or less to the Interstate in order to get in the miles. I approached
almost along the waterfront though East
Chicago . Street after street of run down and boarded
up houses; derelict warehouses and factories, a road that was, to say the least, in need of some urgent
attention and a sky that looked rather ominous, did little lift my spirits. As
the first spots of rain started to fall I pulled over and put on an extra
waterproof jacket; a wise move as it wasn’t long before the heavens really
opened. The wind also decided it wanted a piece of the action and blew
ferociously…The traffic of course, even though it was Saturday afternoon was getting
heavier by the minute. Rounding one four lane, right hand bend, it was as much
as I could do to turn the bike and push it into the corner, so hard was the
wind blowing at me! This was not fun! From there, if you can believe it, things just
got worse, much worse! The traffic was completely snarled up, I was not only
struggling to keep the bike in anything like a straight line, the rain had also
all but killed any semblance of a chance I had of seeing the Sat Nav screen to
find which way I needed to go through the chaos. At that moment I just wanted
to be home, sat in front of my little log fire with a nice glass of single malt
in my hand…In fact at one point I remember screaming into my helmet “I wanna go home!” Anyway, I survived and
eventually cleared the city, travelling at about 5mph for several miles in 14
lanes of bumper to bumper traffic. I kid
you not! Ok, half of them were going in the other direction but let me just
say; Fun it was not.
Soaked, frozen and thoroughly fed up, I suddenly spotted a
motel right next to the road. That was it, no way was I going to pass that one
up, to not only shiver the night away, but also to have to put on all my soggy
kit next morning and to have to sleep
with it all in the tent… Walking in to reception I pressed the bell and stood
dripping all over the floor, Yes, he had a room and the price wasn’t too bad at
$55, thank God! Although I think at that moment I’d have taken it at $200 such
was my mental state! To the guys amazement I asked for the heating in my room
to be put on and then turned it full on! A hot shower, a change of clothes and
I felt almost human again. That had certainly been by far the worst day of the
trip and to be honest I can’t think of many worse days…ever!
The motel wasn't bad, but there wasn't even tea or coffee in
the room or any way to make it, short of going back out to the bike in the rain
and risking burning the whole kit and caboodle down by firing up my little
petrol stove in the room. Something which, even in my slightly deranged state
of mind, I could see was not a good option. Watching some of the coming and
goings through my window, I’m fairly convinced that once again I had ended up
staying in the local “House of ill repute”! But they didn’t bother me, so live
and let live I say! However my state of mind that night did not make for much
sleep. In fact by 4am I was considering getting dressed and heading off. It was
only the fact that it was still raining slightly that stopped me.
When the dawn finally broke it was as dull and gloomy as my
mood! At that moment I would gladly have just jumped on a plane at Chicago airport and flown
home… Not so easy however with half a ton of motorcycle as your hand luggage!!!
A refrain from a John Denver song kept buzzing through my head; Some days are diamonds,
some days are stone, Some time the heartaches won’t leave you alone” I pressed
on. In view of my dislike of both Niagara and Chicago it was time for a drastic rethink of
my plans. I decided to head straight across country to meet up with Taz, Joel
and Jim in Creston , BC USA , but to be
brutally frank, I’d had enough of it for the moment and I was sick of my own
company. Sometime travelling can be like that; it doesn't take too much to
upset ones equilibrium or indeed to restore it! So Interstate 94 it was. Milwaukee , Madison and Minneapolis came and
went. For the most part I didn't actually see much of them as I stayed on I94
Finally I came to a halt for the day at Melrose . After only about 250 miles that had
felt like 2500 , but I’d had enough! I’d been on the interstate all day, but
somehow not made the distance I should have, largely due to many stops to check
the oil level as I was losing quite a bit still. Although not as much as would
appear from the mess on me and on the bike. A fine oil spray just gets everywhere and coats everything. It seems to be coming from the base of the
right hand cylinder; I cursed myself for not having changed the O ring when I
did the push rod tube seals shortly before leaving home… but then hindsight and
all that! It was a small camp ground next
to a river and it seemed, mainly used by fishermen as there were a few in
evidence as I set up my little tent. Once set up I wandered across to the
nearest and enquired about grocery stores in town and car washes. I really did
need to give the bike a good clean again to get rid of the oil!
I wandered into the small town to see what I could get for
dinner, and hopefully a couple of cold beers. The former was fine, the later
not so lucky!. I asked a guy ( a customer) in the supermarket where they kept
the beers. He replied that this was Minnesota
and the area was still dry on Sundays, so no chance. Oh well, not a big deal. I
paid for my groceries and left. However, by the time I got back to my tent, the
guy from the supermarket was waiting for with… yes, you guessed it, a couple of
ice cold beers! He even apologised for the fact that it was only Bud! Yet
another, small, but very gratefully received, Random Act of Kindness.
 |
Mark's temporary home! at least there is good fishing |
Later in the evening I got talking to the fisherman I’d
asked for directions. Mark was actually living in his tent and literally
fishing for his supper. Although working now, he had fallen on hard times and
the tent was the only thing he could afford to live in at present. He worked
at the local turkey processing plant, but the pay was low, and by the time he
had paid alimony to his ex he hardly had enough to live on, However, yet again
an example of those with the least still being quick to share what little they
have… I had a couple of his cheap beers as we talked the evening away. It seems that although the US does, like the UK ,
have a minimum wage structure in place, it is even lower than ours, and of
course they don’t have anything like the generous welfare handout that the UK has.
Next morning Mark was up and away to work even before I
awoke, so I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. However, I did pop down to the
supermarket and feeling strangely, very guilty, was queuing up as the liquor
store opened at 8am to buy a nice big pack of beers to leave Mark as a gesture
of thanks. With that done, I packed and hit the road once more!. Back on the
I94 heading west.
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