Goderich to Auburne, NY

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Odometer: 33673km

Here we go on another driving day. This is a Saturday, so there should be fewer trucks at the border and most people should be where they want to be for the weekend.

As I read back over my recent entries, I realize that I've made it seem as though there is nothing to see in many of the locations I've been. I need to be careful to note that my purview is from the motorcycle. If I had a family with me who wanted to play in the water and sand, or I was a fisherman, or a hunter; the country in Minnesota and Michigan would be fantastic. There, I feel better now that I've confessed.


I left Goderich at 7:00am. There were few cars on the road and no police so I made good time.

This is better. Open farm country with trees, lovely farm houses, some made of stone, and all the buildings seem well maintained. It reminds me a bit of English countryside. Even the villages had a look of England to them, with lots of trees and old stone or brick commericial buildings on the main street. I was snapped back to North American reality as I passed a baseball field with the teams getting ready to play. A couple of other notable difference were the monotonously straight roads ahead of me, and the lack of stone fences. In fact, for the most part, there were no fences at all. I suppose the fencing of grain fields in the west was/is done to protect them from roaming cattle Maybe there are secret cadres of mobile threshers that cut , thresh, and truck grains away under the mantle of night.


I arrived at Stratford at about 8:30am , just in time for a light breakfast at Balzac's Coffee House in the old part of town. I talk as though I knew about it before, but it really was my extra sense that pulled me to it.

Parked outside was a beautful old motorcycle. It looked freshly painted in an older style of colouring, and had an engine that looked like a BMW, so that is what I assummed it was, an old 1950s BMW. Inside Balzac's I met Ivan, the owner. He explained that it was actually new in 2000, but it is a Russian URAL bike and is based on 1947 technology. He said it has the poor reliability of a 1947 bike, so he treats it with the same care and respect as he would a real antique. If you want to have a look at the bike, check the URAL website. They really are a pretty bike.

Ivan and I had a great talk about motorcycle touring. He said he was envious of my trip and, although he owns a nice car, he reckons motorcycling is the most interesting way to tour. He does his North American touring on an RT1100 BMW. For those of you that don't know motorcycles, that is a very nice, and very expensive, sport touring bike.

I limited that last statement to North America because Ivan's parents live in France and he visits them at least once a year. In order to tour over their, he sent over a Suzuki motorcycle (GSX1100 for those who care) and they keep it for him at their place so he has something to ride when visiting. Nice. He said, he is very impressed with the care car drivers take with motorcyclists over there compared to here. That led us in to comparing stories of careless and/or stupid drivers we had encountered. That could have gone on all day.

I guessed that Ivan's toys and lifestyle is supported by some rather higher income, but I didn't explore that subject.

After having one of the very best scones ever, I left Balzac's to explore a little of the centre of the city. I wandered around some of the gardens by the river Avon and up to the County Courthouse of Perth. It is all very nice. Les and I must come here together.

I couldn't stay, because I had a lot of road to put under me before the end of the day. I kept on driving south, through the farmland, and generally heading for Delhi in the centre of the tobacco country just north of Lake Erie. There were many different vegetable crops in the fields I drove past, but the only one I recognized was corn. From the road, I couldn't see any grain crops. As I got further south in the province and along Lake Erie, I noticed that the area wasn't as prosperous as it was closer to London, ON. I wonder why.

I struggled to find a decent place to eat. I had no luck and ended up at Tim's. How unique. Today I've learned that a cafe is not my style if:

- their sign says "Truckers Welcome",
- their sign starts with "Beer and .....",
- their sign says "Harleys Welcome", or
- the owner and partner who run the place are sitting on the front stoop smoking and waiting for their next customer.

I crossed the border at Buffalo and got on the toll road heading east. I had been warned not to speed on the toll roads, because they can use the toll receipt to average your time. That didn't seem to be a constraint on all the other drivers, so I just moved along with them.

I turned off the toll road at a sign marked 'To Geneva'. On the map, it looked like a potential camping area. It actually was an incredible camping area, so much so that on this summer weekend that every campground I could find was full. The motels in the area were also full. I was pretty nervous as I continued to head east on a back road. About 7pm I found a small motel in a little town, but once I met the sleezy, unkempt owner, I got back on my bike and drove off - quickly. The sun was getting low in the sky and my anxiety level was rising as I didn't know if I was going to find a place to sleep for the night.

Arriving in the outskirts of a larger centre called Auburn, NY, I noticed a guy sweeping the sidewalk in front of a cafe. I pulled off the road and, as I parked he and two other men descended on me, all talking very loud.l

"Hey, that's a nice bike. I wish I had one of those."
"Where are your from?"
"Do you wanna eat something? Come on in here and get something."

I didn't know what to make of all this, but as I surveyed them closer I realized I wasn't in any danger. The guy who was sweeping was loud but friendly. The one who wanted to know where I lived was over 60 years old and looked like he had a stroke sometime in his past. The other guy had no teeth, walked with a stooped back and was smiling all the time. Mr. Stroke and Mr. No-Teeth seemed like they weren't quite all present.

After some chat, they directed me to a Motel 6 that I would never have found on my own. Thankfully there was a room available. Although it was a bit more than I wanted to pay I was in no position to spend time looking elsewhere.

I thought it would be nice to give some business to the guy at the cafe who helped me, so I went back there to eat. Over my hot dog and salad, I learned that the sweeper was the owner of the whole building. He use to have a large resturant with an occassional floor show in the same building. About three years ago, the poice raided the place for drugs and after that it went downhill. He shut that down and changed the building into a rooming house and the small cafe we were in. He still dreams of having a big resturant again. "This time," he said, "I'll be more careful about my clientele."

When I told Mr. Stroke who had asked me where I live that I came from Canada, he extended his hand.

"Welcome neighbour," he said. I think he meant it.

Back at the hotel I settled into a conversation with the clerk, Bernie. He is attending university somewhere to the north of Auburn and studying art. He comes back to Auburn on the weekends to make some money at the clerking job.

"All of us that went to high school here couldn't wait to be finished so we could leave," he told me. "this place use to have a lot of factories, but they were shutdown when the companies consolidated. There were lots of jobs lost and the result is this place is dead compared to what it used to be."

I confirmed, "I see that happening all over. The accounting mentality has the purse strings in their hands these days and nothing but short term gain is what counts." I didn't express my thoughts that, in many cases, this was a good thing for the longer term economy. As an art student I didn't think he would want to tackle that subject - neither did I. For the two of us talking over the counter, that global observation really didn't matter. Nor does it matter to anyone who loses their job and has to look elsewhere to support their family.

Odometer at the end of the day: 34225km

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Photos

Grandpa's Old House in Goderich
I couldn't get this on the last entry, so here it is. Sorry, the file is pretty big.