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Consider for a moment a lush, pastoral coastal floodplain (those of you from Washington might consider the Skagit Valley or Nisqually Delta). Fill the countryside with farms, fields full of cattle, sheep and horses. Toss in the occasional small town, all the homes and buildings made of brick. Now stretch this out over six hundred miles of winding country roads and secondary highways, and put water everywhere – an ocean, inland lakes, big rivers, islands, working canals filled with locks and spanned by many small bridges. In order to make your way through the countryside, add ferries, bridges at least 10 miles long connecting Danish islands (and to Sweden), 16-mile (and longer) dikes splitting the North Sea into calm navigable basins north of Amsterdam.

This is the place I’ve ridden through over the last three days, and it has been heavenly. Everything is so lush and green in a way that is very reminiscent of the Pacific Northwest, yet uniquely European. From the cobblestone or brick paved streets of little Danish, German and Dutch towns to the ubiquitous bike paths – really everywhere: cities, small towns, 1.5 lane country roads, even the long dike – to thatched-roof country farmhouses that are directly connected at the rear of the house to the farm’s working barns, there is for me a most interesting sense of familiarity within otherness here. I find myself liking it a lot. Of course, this speaks to my love of western Washington and Oregon, with their similar green lush landscape, the islands and ferries and bridges, the smell of salt in the air.

This land truly is defined and shaped by water. The farmlands seem incredibly fertile, certainly in some part resulting from periodic floods of the Elbe and its tributaries. The Dutch have their enormous inland seas and canals with small personal boats and freight barges, northern Germany has the mighty Elbe River and the Nord-Ostsee-Kanal connecting the North and Baltic Seas, Denmark has 500 islands, many bridges and ferries and – like Amsterdam – working canals in the city. I found myself really enjoying Copenhagen, Groningen and now Amsterdam, my current location. To me there’s a magic to having waterways so integrated into the life of a city, boats next to cars and bicycles and scooters.

As has been previously noted in this space, I generally despise highway riding. This is due in part to a disinclination for high-speed riding, but more to the unpleasant experience of being overtaken by semis, trapped in the fast lane behind people going the speed limit +/- 5MPH, people careening wildly from lane to lane at speeds unsafe for the general traffic flow, and so forth.

After spending several days riding on the Autobahn, I feel that I must amend this to “I generally despise highway riding in the US”. Perhaps a testament to typical German efficiency, the Autobahn just works. As a result, it’s a far more pleasant riding experience, even at speeds higher than my normal high end. The fundamentals of Autobahn driving are as follows:

• Passing on the right is illegal.
• Lanes farther left go faster than those to the right.
• If someone comes up behind you going faster, move right to allow them to pass.

I’m sure there are a number of more complex rules and regulations to achieve efficient flow (this *is* Germany we’re talking about, after all), but the result of these basic rules is smoothly flowing traffic. One really nice bit is that trucks tend to drive slower than prevailing traffic, and thus stay in the right lane for the most part. Which is nice.

It’s a far more engaged riding / driving experience, mind you. Large portions of the Autobahn have effectively no speed limit, so people drive to the limits of their ability as drivers and the capability of their cars – I’ve had a number of times where I’m in the middle lane of three running at 120kph (~75mph) or more and someone flies past me (typically in a Mercedes, BMW, Audi or Porsche), clearly going at least 150-160kph (approaching 100mph), if not much more – I’m not so good at estimating speed of travel. This results in lots of lane changing for me – zipping over to the left lane to pass a group of vehicles plugging along at a mere 100-110kph, then back to the center or right lane once past. All the while checking mirrors to see if someone’s racing up behind me. And it’s actually fun!

The only time I’ve seen actual congestion on the Autobahn was in Hamburg on Friday, closing in on rush hour, and I’m pretty sure that was primarily due to a lengthy stretch of road construction that reduced lane count, constricted lane width and dropped speed limits to 100kph or less for several km at a stretch. Otherwise, it’s just smooth clean enjoyable riding, frequently at higher speed than I would consider on US highways, and it feels safe and controlled.

Something I have a hard time saying about my experiences riding a motorcycle on the US Interstate Highway system.

Copenhagen is a beautiful (smukke) city, particularly from the 15th-floor view of Annette’s (my couchsurfing host) apartment. I’ve been here two days, and have decided to stay two more, because a) one of my longest-held friends from WA is coming here tomorrow and b) I really quite like it here!

I arrived Friday evening, and fell in love with the city as I was riding through on the way to Annette’s place. This city has gorgeous old architecture, lots of sculpture all over, a billion bicycles, and really attractive people everywhere. What’s not to like?

Once I arrived, Annette handed me keys and a map, offered me a shower, and basically, she made me feel completely at home. After cleaning up, we headed out to a party being held at a coworking space where she used to work in the center of the city. The too-loud music and crowded dance floor led many to congregate in the kitchen, foosball room and courtyard outside. We talked for a while, enjoying Tuborg beer and people-watching, then decided it was time for sleep.

Yesterday was filled with tourist wandering. After a lazy morning, sleeping in and slow breakfast, we headed out to walk through the city. Along the water to visit the Little Mermaid, then to Nyhavn for delicious ice cream and people watching next to the canal in the sunshine. Thence on to the very modern-hippie village Christiania, where we saw people selling jewelry, clothing and other items of more questionable provenance. Sat and drank an sweet elderflower drink – like soda without the bubbles – which was delicious. Walked along the water – shoreline filled with people enjoying the perfect warm breezy weather – to a little foot and bike bridge where we sat and talked more. As the day lengthened, we headed to a grocery store and then back to her apartment where I cooked dinner (oh, how nice it has been to be able to cook for hosts a few times along the way!). Then we wandered into the city again, this time to a bar where her friend Lærke was making cocktails. We sat at the bar, chatted with Lærke, enjoyed some cocktails.

Being out late both nights has given me an opportunity to witness really long days. Copenhagen is far enough north that there is still the slightest bit of twilight all the way through the night, until predawn light starts filtering into the sky around 3am. Wild!

Annette is another long-distance solo motorcyclist – she rode solo from Buenos Aires => Ushuaia => NYC and has crossed the US three times, I think. Visiting and making friends with her has been fun and funny, enlightening, informational and inspiring. All because of couchsurfing!

Just a quick note: I’m still here. I’ve just been too busy riding and visiting old friends and making new ones to write much of late. But I have several posts rattling around in my head, so there will be more coming in the near future.

So. I’m in Europe now. I guess this thing is really happening.

I left Toronto in the wee hours of Thursday morning, several hours later than anticipated. This is due to the fact that some unnamed vehicle ran into the wing of our designated plane. Of course we weren’t informed of this until all the passengers were on board and settled in for departure. After unloading and waiting for all the checked bags (and motorcycles!) to be moved to the new plane, which was luckily present and available, we finally departed. Then, there was much sleep to be had. I woke on the approach to Frankfurt, had an unsatisfying airline breakfast, and then it was time to land.

Whereupon I discovered that my I’d arrived in Germany on a national day. This meant I was unable to get insurance, and therefore my motorcycle stayed in storage for a day. Luckily, my friends Paul and Silke were happy to put me up for the night, so I headed to their home. They were making the most of the day off by hosting a garden party – there were about 15 people present when I arrived, evenly split between adults and young kids. It was a great way to relieve the stress of the flight change and disappointment of not being able to extract my bike.

Paul had taken the next day off, and generously offered to offer taxi and translation services to assist me with the tasks of insurance, customs and import clearance. His help was very much needed and most appreciated!

After regaining custody, I headed off to visit Sanmi, another dear friend whom I hadn’t seen in far too long. She lives on a shared communal-style property in the woods about an hour’s ride away, through rolling pastoral hills and forests with lovely narrow winding roads. The place is so wonderful and peaceful that even though she had weekend plans away from home, I ended up staying another day, just to soak up the calm.

This morning, after breakfast and conversation with Sanmi’s sister Florence (who also lives on the property), I headed off with one goal in mind: Drink Belgian beer, in Belgium, destination Liege. Having arranged a place to stay for a couple nights through couchsurfing.org, I plotted a course and set off. I have to say, my first border crossing in the EU was rather anticlimactic: I saw a sign stating ‘Belgie 1000m’. And then I noticed that the road signs had changed. Ah, the benefits of EU integration!

Speaking of signs, it has taken me a few days of riding to start to make sense of them. For one thing, plotting a route on backroads is much easier – at least in Germany – by paying attention to the towns you want to go through rather than the road numbers. Not all signs are numbered, nor are all roads – at least not in a fashion obvious to me after multiple hours of investigation. And in Belgium I was initially confused by the snowflake-looking signs, until I realized they indicated upcoming roundabouts – which are both awesome and quite prevalent in both DE and BE.

I’m expecting my host to arrive home soon – she met me in town with a key to her place on her way to work! – and so more when it comes to me.

Tonight I make the Big Leap, after six weeks crossing the United States and two days in Canada. Tomorrow I’ll wake up on the approach to Frankfurt, and the start of Phase Two.

I’ve spent the last week working my way up the East Coast, with lots of visits along the way (seeing friends along my route has been a big theme of the trip so far, and will hopefully continue while I’m in Europe).

I left my parents’ house last Monday and spent the afternoon and evening visiting friends in Chapel Hill / Carrboro. The next day I rode from Chapel Hill north through the Piedmont to Danville, then west towards the Appalachians. I rode into a brief but torrential rain squall as I approached a little town, where I saw a road sign proclaiming ‘STUART EXIT LEFT 1 MILE’. With directions like that, how could I refuse? So I stopped in Stuart (named after JEB Stuart, famed Confederate Army General during the Civil War) to dry off and caffeinate, then proceeded west along VA-8, a beautiful twisty-windy climb up into and through the mountains to Radford, VA, where I spent the night in the home of old friends from Seattle who I hadn’t seen in close to ten years.

The next day took me back across the mountains to the east – including a brief, lovely stretch of the Blue Ridge Parkway – and into Maryland for the night. From there, a long heavy traffic push to NYC with an unfortunate detour into Philadelphia – and an additional hour or two of traffic – as a result of one missed turn.

I spent three nights in NYC, catching up with my friends there. I went to the theater (twice), ate wonderful food, geeked out on motorcycles and photography, and reconnected with folks I hadn’t seen in too long. All in all, a wonderful way to spend my last weekend in the US for a long time.

After a late start out of NYC on Sunday, I rode across northern NJ (where I saw a black bear along the side of the road!) and PA (through lots of the beautiful Susquehanna River valley), then north to Horseheads, NY for the night. Shortly after I settled in, I was lucky to witness one of the most impressive displays of lightning I’ve seen in years as a severe thunderstorm rolled through the region for an hour or so. The next morning I headed north along the west shore of Seneca Lake, one of the larger Finger Lakes, and then onto the highway for Toronto, where I dropped off my motorcycle at the airport for shipping. After being inseparable from my bike for the last six weeks, it feels very strange to be without it, despite it being for only a few days.

Once shipping was arranged, I cabbed into Toronto to catch up with another old friend I know through the Burning Man community, who I haven’t managed to see for three years despite several efforts along the way on both our parts. She’s taken me on a mostly food-focused walking tour of the extended area around where she lives, which has been delightful.

And so I find myself on the cusp of Phase Two. As I was riding towards Canada on Monday I felt for the first time a sense of nervousness, a trepidation about this grand crazy adventure I’ve laid out, as if somehow the first border crossing – or perhaps the act of delivering my bike for shipping – somehow made my plans more vital than they had been to that point. It didn’t last long, thankfully, but there was certainly a momentary glimpse. I don’t have time or need for trepidation at this point – I’m sure the time will come when it becomes an appropriate response, but today is not that day.

Air can hurt you too /
Some people say not to worry ’bout the air /
Some people never had experience with air

– Talking Heads, “Air”, Fear of Music, 1979

I have lots of time to think about things while I ride. Of course. I have nobody to talk to other than myself, and I can only sing to myself so much. I find that I spend a lot of time thinking about air, specifically the ways it interacts with me on my motorcycle.

I first remember thinking about this in 2005, during my first extended motorcycle trip. I was riding south on Hwy 97 in Eastern Oregon and, after being buffeted about by yet another semi, I started thinking about turbulence – specifically that of large blocky vehicles such as semis, RVs and trucks with big trailers. I want to see video of a semi riding through a cloud – of fog, smoke, whatever. This would a) be very cool to see and b) help me understand exactly what’s going on.

Interacting with the air off of large vehicles can be wild. It feels to me that there’s a wall of laminar flow – like the clean wave off the bow of a boat – immediately off the cab of a big rig, which gets turbulent pretty quickly as it passes down the side of the vehicle. Behind one of these large vehicles, the air is even more turbulent as the two streams of already-turbulent air collide.

Of course, this makes for interesting riding no matter how you’re experiencing it. Hitting it head-on (when passing a truck in the opposite direction, for example) tends to push the bike away as you go through the laminar, then buffets as you travel through the turbulence. Passing when in the same direction of travel is the reverse – there’s an odd shift toward the centerline as you pass through that laminar wave. And then there’s riding behind, which is a lot like hell.

As I crossed the Southwest and the prairie, I got a lot of experience with air of a different sort: wind. There’s that old traveler’s prayer:

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face …

So far, not so much wind at my back. In my face, broadside, 45° to my front or back? Plenty of those.

Other than riding directly into a strong wind, it turns out that it’s not so tough to handle. I learned a long time ago to just lean into it (crossing the 520 bridge on days of high wind on the lake), but that wasn’t working so well for extended distances. Finally, after several days in a row of strong winds, what I finally came to realize is that only the bike needs to lean, not me. As the wind ebbs and flows, shifts directions, whatever, I can just relax into it and allow my motorcycle to move underneath me, as I remain essentially upright. The alternative – being uptight, I guess – results in me fighting the wind. Which is pointless. If you fight the wind, it will eventually win.

And that doesn’t sound like an appealing option to me.

One of the things I’m learning in this trip is that flexibility in plans is key to happiness. To wit: I intended to make it to Lancaster PA or thereabouts tonight, which would have left me with about 150 miles into New York City, my destination for tomorrow. However, two things happened to thwart this plan.

First, I woke up in the happy home of my old friends Rick & Renee, and it was just darn hard to leave. I ended up leaving Radford VA about 1.5 hours after I intended.

Second, and more dramatically (this is where the reflex part comes in) I nearly got splattered against the side of a 14′ truck. I was cruising north on Hwy 29 towards Charlottesville on a divided highway, two lanes each direction. At an intersection, I noticed a car that looked like they were about to enter from the right, so I started to move into the left lane. As I did so, I noticed this big truck entering from the opposite side. I figured they were pulling into the median turn area, which prompted me to correct and stay in the right lane.

No. The driver of the truck barreled across all four lanes, cutting directly in front of me, running at about 65mph. Through the glorious combination of quick reflexes and the ABS on my motorcycle, I avoided clipping the rear bumper of the truck by no more than 3′ – maybe closer to 1′. After I finished cursing the bastard I realized I needed to cool my jets and let the adrenaline seep out of me, so I ended up with an unexpected long pitstop at a Starbucks in Charlottesville.

These two factors contributed to me being several hours behind expected schedule. I rolled into Frederick as dark was falling – about when I expected to hit Lancaster. Ah, well. Tomorrow, I’ll get up early and get a move on to make up the time. And hey, if I don’t make it into NYC until Friday, so be it.

Yesterday I was delighted to have the opportunity to spend an hour with my friend Daniel, talking about our lives, my travel plans, and more. At one point, I made the comment that life is a terminal condition. Daniel replied with the following quote:

Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, the only fact we have. It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death–ought to decide, indeed, to earn one’s death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life.

– James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time

I like this. I think I need to find this book, based on this quote alone.

My time in Raleigh has come to an end. It has been great to spend time with my family and friends, but now that my ass has recovered from the cross-country trek*, I need to get moving again.

Today I’ll travel only a short distance – back to Chapel Hill for a little more visiting with friends – then northward come Tuesday, where I will see some old Seattle friends living near Roanoke VA. Thence to NYC from Thursday evening through Saturday, then on to Toronto and a big airplane. Woo!

* On that note: I’ll probably be getting myself a new seat once I get to Germany. :)