I hope this works

For all of the planning (and believe it or not I DID a lot of planning) the one area of concern for me in putting this trip together was the Big Apple. I have some definite things I want to see and do here but I had never decided where I would stay, how I would move around or where my bike and bags would wait safely for my return. After all was said and done (a.k.a. Departure Day) I decided to "play it by ear" as the New York Symphony says after each of their hundreds of practices. That would not have set well with Betty. She did not like to leave things to chance. Planning was her forte'. I, on the other hand, would rush off into the mountains on a week long backpacking trip only to discover that I forgot (fill in name of any critical piece of hiking equipment).

Strava told me I was less than 200 miles from NYC. My odometer told me I was up for an oil change and tune-up. My back tire was screaming "change me, change me".

The 200 miles were on state highways, through numerous small towns and about 100 traffic signals. Wherever possible I have resisted the natural tendency to "get there" as soon as possible. I have to keep reminding myself that, in this case, the journey IS the adventure, so getting there is the challenge to be met. Today was a good example.

Had I taken the Garden State Expressway I never would have found a large private residence on highway 9 near Berkeley Township that featured an eclectic array of larger than life figurines. It was not a roadside point of interest or a business venture drawing attention to itself. It was an individual who had a collection he wanted to display along his ample front fence, and perhaps, he wanted to rile his neighbor just a little.

and there was a lot more

Nor would I have asked Victoria, a spunky 90 year old who had recently lost her husband, and her best friend Edie, for directions to the bridge across the Raritan River. She advised us to "go to your death bed knowing that you have seized every opportunity within your grasp and rung it dry, squeezing just as hard as you can, so you never have to wonder what could have been".

I also stopped at a Harley Dealer in central New Jersey and asked if they could recommend a dealer that would meet the following requirements:

1) Near public transportation into the city

2) Near a motel at which I could stay 

3) Able to do my required tune up and tire change in one day

They said that I would have to research it on the Internet, they couldn't help me. That was to say " that ain't us, hit the road". But while I stood there I watched a Harley factory produced montage of early day home movies, a collection of vintage motorcycle events. Then it flashed on the screen, an old Harley flat-tracker with a competition plate - number 99G! It was a white "expert" class plate, but still, I nearly choked!

I had been asked by several people if the cell phone holder I have on my left handle bar holds the phone securely. I have been more concerned about the phone being damaged by getting wet. Had I taken the Garden State Parkway today I might never have been able to give the definitive answer to the question above. Right in the middle of town (what town?) I hit a large bump and my cell phone...

flew out of the holder, flipping end over end. I'd like to say it was in slow motion but it wasn't. The whole thing happened so fast I had no time to react. The phone was there, then it wasn't. The reaction that was inside my helmet looked approximately like this:

as I realized that the phone did about 2 1/2 flips and landed... on the gas tank between my legs!

There's a bit of an attitude to New Jerseians. I'm sure that was a part of what was behind the place where I ate lunch

The decor inside was eclectic too, right down to the restroom. The oversized stall in the men's room included a single cowgirl boot (complete with speckles), an old mechanical scale with the dial on a pedestal that came up about three feet, a three shelf book shelf with two large dictionaries on the bottom shelf, magazines on the top shelf, and in the middle - an old rotary dial telephone.

As I got closer to the NY line I stopped at a McD so I could get a good Wi-Fi connection. This was where I talked to Victoria, bless her soul. I found a place about 15 miles north, called and asked my three questions. They were literally across the street from the train station, just a short taxi ride from the Best Western and they think they can get everything done by tomorrow (they're open until 7). 

So I checked the bike in, took the suit case, helmet, etc. with me to the taxi stand and, for the first time in 40+ years, took a cab to the hotel (that's another form of transportation!). I checked in for 2 nights so I can leave most of my gear in the room while I wander around the core of the Big Apple.

Now I've got all day tomorrow to explore NYC. This better work...