I've tried to avoid American fast food and eat healthy as much as possible, very important on a long trip. I was warned to avoid truck stops but I was interested to see as much American culture as possible. I think there were a few 'cultures' growing in the corner of the restaurant and I was offered a booth or a table. I chose the booth because the mountainous truck drivers wouldn't fit in them. I sat fascinated buy several guys returning frequently with as much food as they could carry from the 'all you can eat' shrimp bar. I guessed it may be called 'all you can eat' because that's all there is on offer. I've seen some rotund gentlemen on my travels but when the light was blocked by a drifting marquee, that on closer inspection appeared to be a T-shirt with a 'Michelin man' inside, I thought it was about time this guy was taught the difference between 'want' and 'need.'
I managed to find a single quart of engine oil amongst all the essential accessories a truck driver needs, like a 'Colonel Bogey' horn, an LED Stars and Stripes, so everyone knows where you're from and a spare wheel arch covered in blue lights which I assume often gets used as a shoe horn to enter the vehicle. The bike had barely used any oil on the whole trip until the clutch arm leak, which is steadily getting worse. At this rate I should make it to New York but without knowing the exact cause of the problem, it's a bit of a worry.
Ohio looked quite interesting after the vast plains of Wyoming, Nebraska and Iowa. Indiana was very welcoming and friendly, and Ohio was no exception. Randy, a State Trooper from 'twenty minutes East' from this rest stop, offered to show me around the local station. I had some strange looks from passing motorists, not unusual for me but fraternising with police officer must be a rare sight. Especially when everyone wanted to join in for the photos.
"Alan Kelly, wow, you're a celebrity! I've got a sister in Manchester England. I'll have to remember your name for when you're on the TV! Good luck Alec!"
Riding close behind a police cruiser at 70mph, with a huge tailback of impatient drivers along the interstate for twenty minutes was a surreal experience, but I was enjoying every minute! Usually the motorcycle is in front of the police car!
Randy was a biker himself, racing a Suzuki gsx600 for fun, and a Honda Fireblade for the road. If I was in Ohio longer, he would take me to the track for a free day racing. Very tempting but I have to keep moving East. I met all the guys, including Lisa the secretary who was sure she saw me in Oregon along the coast. After an in-depth tour of the station, even the garage where the Dodge V8 engine proudly sat after generating the power during the recent storms, essential to recharge the rows of 'Tazers,' I was given an information pack usually given to schools, in case I ever have kids of my own. I hoped to meet someone in America but I don't think women are attracted to bikers, especially one that looks like he's been living rough for five months...
Randy asked if I'd eaten that day. It was 3.30pm and a restaurant was across the street. He stuffed some cash into my hand. It was $40! I couldn't accept, but he insisted saying he made good money as an officer. No-one will believe a motorcyclist chased a policeman along the highway and was given money from him at the station!
A great guy, indeed, you might say he's a super trooper. There, I said it.
I managed to find a single quart of engine oil amongst all the essential accessories a truck driver needs, like a 'Colonel Bogey' horn, an LED Stars and Stripes, so everyone knows where you're from and a spare wheel arch covered in blue lights which I assume often gets used as a shoe horn to enter the vehicle. The bike had barely used any oil on the whole trip until the clutch arm leak, which is steadily getting worse. At this rate I should make it to New York but without knowing the exact cause of the problem, it's a bit of a worry.
Ohio looked quite interesting after the vast plains of Wyoming, Nebraska and Iowa. Indiana was very welcoming and friendly, and Ohio was no exception. Randy, a State Trooper from 'twenty minutes East' from this rest stop, offered to show me around the local station. I had some strange looks from passing motorists, not unusual for me but fraternising with police officer must be a rare sight. Especially when everyone wanted to join in for the photos.
"Alan Kelly, wow, you're a celebrity! I've got a sister in Manchester England. I'll have to remember your name for when you're on the TV! Good luck Alec!"
Riding close behind a police cruiser at 70mph, with a huge tailback of impatient drivers along the interstate for twenty minutes was a surreal experience, but I was enjoying every minute! Usually the motorcycle is in front of the police car!
Randy was a biker himself, racing a Suzuki gsx600 for fun, and a Honda Fireblade for the road. If I was in Ohio longer, he would take me to the track for a free day racing. Very tempting but I have to keep moving East. I met all the guys, including Lisa the secretary who was sure she saw me in Oregon along the coast. After an in-depth tour of the station, even the garage where the Dodge V8 engine proudly sat after generating the power during the recent storms, essential to recharge the rows of 'Tazers,' I was given an information pack usually given to schools, in case I ever have kids of my own. I hoped to meet someone in America but I don't think women are attracted to bikers, especially one that looks like he's been living rough for five months...
Randy asked if I'd eaten that day. It was 3.30pm and a restaurant was across the street. He stuffed some cash into my hand. It was $40! I couldn't accept, but he insisted saying he made good money as an officer. No-one will believe a motorcyclist chased a policeman along the highway and was given money from him at the station!
A great guy, indeed, you might say he's a super trooper. There, I said it.
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