We arose from our sound slumber on the morning of day 2, ignited with glorious purpose. The forecast looked clear, our route was charted and nothingstood in our way to Utica. After a complementary continential breakfast of (fake) ham (fake) eggs and (suspicious) waffles we geared up the bikes and rolled out of Lock Haven, fueled with processed goodness.
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Like fettling with your bike? Do one of these tours; you'll spend at least 30 mins every morning doing just that |
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I somehow adopted the Robin Hood boot wearing technique and didn't realize it for the entire day |
What made an already wonderful morning better was route 664 and 414 comint out of Lock Haven. Kilometer after kilometer of (mostly) deserted slices of tight curvy tarmac electrified our senses as they darted through gargantuan ever greens and boound across scopic fields of grass. We enjoyed the roads so much that none of us bothered with pictures. Good thing George had the sense to turn on his Contour HD.
Emerging from the mountain roads, stumbled on a gas station next to some beautiful mountains that flanked a stream. Pictures were in order.
Somewhere along the way, we missed a turn and ended up near the intersection of Route 414 and Intestate 15. As soon as we got on the interstate to get back on track, Alok's bike popped a warning light. We pulled out of traffic and found out that his R6 had converted nearly half a quart of oil into smoke.
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Gasing up before Interstate 15 |
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Feeding the smoke machine |
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More bike fettling while Alok takes his topped up death machine around the block |
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Mr. Vietnam going for a naked ride |
Once Alok's frying pan powered touring machine had a fresh barrel of oil injected into it's thirsty bowels, we quickly found ourselves lost somewhere on Route 6 in Pennsylvania. We pulled onto a random property to check our maps. What we didn't know was the property was the home and workshop of Mr. Mike Miller; Harley man, Indian (motorcycles) enthusiast, custom bike builder and all around nice guy.
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This ordinary exterior hides some pretty cool stuff |
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A small mountain of motorcycles ... |
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... base of the mountain |
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Original Bridgeport milling machine |
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Original Harly 'Springer' front end... I am told it's rare |
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A custom bike built by Mike |
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Another custom bike |
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Mr. Miller posing for a magazine photo shoot with the same bike. Picture stolen from Google. |
We stepped outside of the time warp that was Mr. Miller's workshop and made a bee line for Utica as the sun rapidly descended below the horrizon.
Merely 15 minutes away from Utica, in the darkness of an unlit New York highway, the rain came down hard. We arrived at Best Western completely damp and miserable. What a dissapointing end to an otherwise great day of riding.
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Bikes tucked away for the night |
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POURING |
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Funky laundry |
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Tomorrow's another day |
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