Maui 2013

Day 13, Aloha, Maui

Day 12, June 22, 2013 Maui east side and Hana

Lush vegetation

Trail Ride O'heo Gulch, Haleakela National Park, Hana, Maui 

Seven Pools, Haleakela National Park, Hana, Maui

Olu and Kaili

 Oheo Gulch, Haleakela, Hana, Maui

Day 11, June 21, 2013, Olawalu, Maui, HI

Day 10, June 20, 2013 10:30 AM HST Ho o kipa, Maui, HI

 
 10:47 AM  Ho o kipa, northshore, Maui

2:18 PM  Ho o kipa, northshore, Maui, HI

 Day 9, June 19, 2013 2:59 PM HST, Kite Beach, Kahului, HI

3:17 PM HST, Kite Beach, Kahului, HI

Day 8, June 18, 2013 7:30 AM HST, Kihei, HI

6:00 PM  South Kihei

6:55 PM HST Mokapu Beach, Kihei, HI

Day 7, June 17, 2013 7:06 PM HST, Ulua Beach, Kihei, HI

Ulua Beach/Wailea

Day 6, June 16, 2013 4:40 PM HST, Kalepolepo Beach, Kihei, HI
Wind and Sand

Day 5, June 15, 2013 5:34 PM HST, Ahihi-Kinau Reserve La Perouse Bay,

Day 4, June 14, 2013 1:22 PM HST, Kamaole Beach, Kihei, HI

Day 3, June 13, 2013 7:07 PM HST, Kamaole Beach, Kihei, HI

Day 2, June 12, 2013 7:39 PM HST Maui Film Festival, Wailea, HI

Day 1..June 11, 2013,  6:06 AM HST Kamole Beach Park, Kihei, HI

Some miscellaneous photos

I need to be out of here!

Not that Iowa (it was my 50th state) or Nebraska is all that bad, weather wise, it's been a really weird 30 days since I've arrived.  It seems as if there's an electrical storm every other day.

As I mentioned before, I flew in on the night of May 1 and was presented with a 3-4 inch snow storm that left even the most seasoned midwesterner baffled.  Driving to work the next morning, I encountered several vehicles off in the ditch or neutral ground mired in snow and mud and passed through small towns and saw people shoveling snow.  Aside from a VERY brief warm spell, it has been unseasonably cool and wet, to the dismay of farmers here.

This weekend is no exception.  I put on a pair of shorts and t-shirt to head into downtown Omaha, only to turn around within seconds of leaving the hotel.  It was 57° at 11:00 AM with a brisk wind blowing.  It's been part of the spring systems that have caused deadly tornadoes in Oklahoma and Missouri.

Anyway, if I can manage another week, I'll be catching a flight out of here for my mother's family reunion next weekend then grabbing a flight the following Monday for a 2 week vacation on Maui.  While I need the vacation, I think Darlene has been looking forward to it with greater anticipation than I.
 

 It will be good to see my old friend, Mr. Green Sea Turtle again offshore from Ulua Beach near Kihei.

Meet Boudreaux II

The old 2005 Harley Softail was Boudreaux and I thought about just keeping the same name like B B King named every guitar Lucille but a motorcycle eventually develops it's own personality.  Eventually, it may get a new name, but for right now, it's still Boudreaux.  It's basically the same as Old Boudreaux but with a 103 cubic inch engine instead of the 88 ci and a six speed transmission instead of the five.

Old Boudreaux was getting to be a high mileage bike and made me nervous about any long distant run over a few hundred miles. 

A 2012 model with only 2,844 actual miles on it, it's  not even broken in yet.  I'm not too sure about the white sidewalls either.  Oh well, we shall see.

Outrageous

The first of May, I blew into Omaha along with a late season snowstorm.  I think they have not seen a snow in May for 50 or 60 years but I managed to be here for it.
 
On my way up to Logan, Iowa, I counted a half dozen cars that had slid off the highway and were waiting on wreckers to pull them out.  On that day, our high in Logan was a brisk 33° with a light wind.  I'm sure the residents sighed a groan when they had to break out the snow shovels but you gotta do what you gotta do.

Ironically, two weeks later, it hit 103° with another light wind.  That's a 70° change in two weeks.

Incidentally, Iowa was my last state on my bucket list.  I now have visited all 50 states.  How about that?

My Arizona Weekend

There won't be a lot of narrative on this.  Basically, I rose early Saturday morning and headed north taking a detour through Sedona, Flagstaff and to the south rim of the Grand Canyon.

Sunday, I drove up through Page, Arizona across Lake Powell into Utah.

So, here's the pictures.  Click on them to enlarge.

Mountains near Sedona

Mountain near Flagstaff

Overlook at Grand Canyon visitor's center

Deep and wide

Rugged

Colorado River runs through it

My camera could not capture the grandeur

Dangerously close to the edge

Lake Powell / Glen Canyon

South of Page, Arizona

Back to Phoenix

Take me out to the ball game ...

Last weekend, while working in Richmond, Virginia, a couple of other employees/friends and I rode up to Baltimore to see the Orioles lose to the Minneapolis Twins 3 to 4.

This is the second professional game I have ever been to.  The first being in Saint Louis to see them and the Diamondbacks play.  There, we were up high in one of the boxes and felt somewhat detached from the game.  In Baltimore, it was an entirely different perspective, being down low near the third base.  I am told that the Baltimore stadium is the first stadium built in the retro fashion, instead  of a stadium that can be used for a variety of events.

I bought the peanuts but forgot the Crackerjacks.

 Swing and a miss!

Double play!

Base hit!

Daytona Bike Week

Who knows what motivates people do things?   Logically, it was foolish, given the fact that early morning temperatures had been hitting in the 30° range.  Too, a decision was rendered from a conversation happening four days earlier that caused Gary (brother-in-law) and I to plan a last minute motorcycle trip  to Bike Week in Daytona, Florida.  Neither of us are big crowd people but the idea of a long ride was certainly intriguing.

Figuring hotels would be non-existent at that late date, we reserved some "Kabins" at a couple of KOA Kampgrounds.

So, with bikes packed up, we fired up on at sunrise Thursday morning, cut through the swamps and by the time we arrived at the Hammond, Louisiana exit, our hands were burning with cold.   After warming up with a cup of coffee, we continued on east into Mississippi where we stopped often for thawing and a nicotine break for Gary.  Each time we stopped, we would meet other riders headed to the same event.  At one stop, we met a guy whose enthusiasm for a week in Daytona was really overflowing.  We chatted with him a while and as we left, he handed us a business card with his name on it (bikers seem to be getting into business cards these days) and told if we wanted to party and hook up, to look for him.  He'd be wearing a furry white helmet with horns on it......oh yeah, I'll be looking (out) for him for sure.

The first day was somewhat uneventful and we arrived at our reserved KOA Kampground near Chattahoochee, Florida.  Certainly, not the Hilton but it beats having to throw up a tent then take it down and pack it back up if it's wet the next morning.

The next morning, we hit the road early again with temperatures still hardly any better in the early hours.  At a rest stop east of Tallahassee, we stopped for a break where Gary leaned up against his bike and it fell over.  Picking it up, we discovered he had broken a bolt on the right rear shock. It was absolutely nothing to do with maintenance error but just one of those times when road stress took it's toll.  His bike is much younger than mine with less road miles on it.

  We thought about riding on to a repair shop but the tire was rubbing the fender, so now he was immobile.  We had packed open end wrenches, socket sets, screwdrivers, Allen wrenches and even 8 point star sockets.  We had enough tools to overhaul a bike but we needed one thing......we needed a drill to remove the broken stub of the bolt.

Not knowing where any parts or hardware store was located, I began roaming the countryside until I located one in Monticello.  There, I bought a rechargeable drill and bargained with the store to charge it up for me while I went back to find Gary and determine what size bolt we would need.  I took the broken part out and headed back to the Ace Hardware where I retrieved the charged up drill and a couple of grade 8 bolts and some reverse drill bits.

Anyway, after getting back to Gary at the rest stop, where he drilled out the broken stud, we were on the road within 45 minutes and arrived in St. Augustine before dark.

Saturday morning we made the short ride down to Daytona.  As we expected, the road was full of bikes headed that way.  Arriving in Daytona, Main Street was already lined with bikes with no place to park unless we wanted to shell out $7 for the privilege.  We rode around a  couple of times before heading out to the interstate to Bruce Rossmeyer's Harley dealership, arguably the largest in the world.  It along with satellite stores selling anything from leather to Triumph Motorcycles covered acres. 

Back behind that, J & P Cycles has one of their only two brick and mortar stores.  To some, J & P is the holy of holies when it comes to motorcycle parts stores.  You could literally build your own bike from parts out of that store.  All this represented a bigger attraction than the downtown event. 

While Daytona Bike Week is not as wild and crazy as Sturgis, it does have it's sights and curiosities.  One major difference between the two is the type of biker they attract.  While Harley riders are the dominant group, Daytona pulls in the metric rider crowd, with Hondas, Yamahas and Kawasakis. 

It only took a day of these maddening crowds to make us consider

getting back home.  Originally, we had planned on taking two days but checking the weather conditions, we saw a line of thunderstorms and a cold front with it that made us think that a 13 hour ride was a doable thing.

With that in mind, we rode and rode and rode, arriving back home about 9:00 p.m. that night, tired and saddle sore from the experience.  I'm thinking around 680 miles that day.

We even forgot to buy a T-shirt.

I'm in Vidalia (Natchez)

No, not that Vidalia, the onion place, that's in Georgia.  I'm in Vidalia, Louisiana across the river from Natchez, Missippy (that's how they pronounce it).  There isn't a whole lot going on for this Vidalia except a couple of pawn shops, gas stations and fast food outlets. The hottest thing going on for Vidalia is the bridge taking you over the Mississippi River to Natchez where you can find a river boat casino and tons of beautiful antebellum homes, some of which date back the 1830s.

As for food, it's a gosh awful mix of overly fried foods, poor presentation and so-so country style cooking.  One exception I enjoy is Fat Mama's Tamales.  I don't know why, I just do.  I've been going there since it was in the old log house on Canal Street they moved from a couple of years ago.  Fat Mama's is the kind of joint that's not what I would consider a traditional Mexican or even a TexMex place.  Maybe it's MissTex or MissLaTex.  Whatever it is, you'll find the signature dish is tamales, served up in styrofoam plates and eaten on plastic tablecloths. Everything centers around the tamale whether it's a taco salad, gringo pie or chili, it's all the same meat. The only thing else on the menu that isn't linked to the tamale meat is the poboys and boudin but since I've never tried those entrees, they very well could be made from the same stuff.  Any way you look at it, it's popular with locals and travelers alike

The architecture is well preserved which makes this city just gush with quaintness.  Each year there are a couple of pilgrimages that bring people in from all parts of the country where they pay to tour the old historic homes and ride through the streets in horse drawn carriages.

It is a mix of old, new and whimsical, often bordering on political incorrectness for which I definitely approve.

Over the years, I've been through here several times but rarely had the time to just drive around and soak it all in.  Aside from the horrid food fare, it really is a special place reeking of history.

Just a couple hours north of Baton Rouge, it's a great drive up a 4 lane highway.  Years ago, before the widening and 4 lanes, it was a treacherous trip that we all dreaded but when we saw Mammy's Cupboard, we knew most of the ordeal was over.  That's one part of the "good old days" I'm glad is over.

A push barge travels upstream under the bridge

 

Night shot of the bridge from the Vidalia side

An odd display at the end of Canal Street, Natchez

The Petrie House

Abandoned Natchez Shotgun Rowhouses

Inside Fat Mama's Tamales

Home again

Doing a fast exit from Waverly, Tennessee, I am home without and temporarily out of an assignment for which grateful.

This gives me a little time to catch up on a few things, so with the help from Gary, my brother-in-law, we put the boat port/garage in good order, hung a couple of shelves and sorted things out so we could at least walk through it without stumbling over a box or crate of motorcycle parts left over from the move back in August.

The best part was installing a pair of external oil coolers on Boudreaux.  Hopefully, this will keep it from completely melting down in the event of a really warm ride this summer.

Those things accomplished, I had a little time to do some much needed chrome polishing. 

It probably won't be long before I'll be exchanging the Harley for a Boeing so I'll probably be on it as much as possible for the next few days.

The Honda Guy

Since I've been in Waverly, Tennessee, most days have been rather disagreeable. My feet feel like they haven't thawed since I was home a couple weeks ago.  It's either been raining and cold or snowing and cold, except for the 2 or 3 days this past weekend that was in the 60s and rained in biblical proportions.

Today, as I broke for lunch at McDonalds, they had spread salt on the sidewalk to prevent slipping.  In the parking spot next to the door was a Honda motorcycle which I had seen in that same spot countless number of times.  Thinking to myself, this guy is tough if he's riding in 20 degree weather with ice, snow and rain.  You have to admire him.

Going inside, I made my order at the counter to the young lady and put up with the usual questions.

"Welcome to McDonalds, Sir! How can I help you?"

"I'd like a Grilled Chicken Caesar salad and a medium iced tea."

"And what kind of dressing would you like on that, sir?"

"Uh......................Caesar?"

Paying her the $7.01 for the salad and drink, I looked around.  There he was.  The lone Honda rider sitting at a table hammering away on his laptop with his helmet on one chair and a thick jacket draped over another.

Retrieving my salad and drink from the counter, I maneuvered myself to another table in sight of Mr. Honda Man.

I noticed 3 or 4 other patrons who had walked in, some wearing Harley-Davidson caps and shirts, none of which were on motorcycles but proudly displayed their affection for  Harley-Davidsons while unapologetically riding in their warm pick-up trucks with Harley stickers on the back glass.

Now, we have the one lone Honda guy, riding to Mickey D's in the cold and wet with Harley guys riding in trucks and cars.  What do you think that tells you about Harley riders?

It tells me they are not dumb enough to be riding in 28° weather on slick roads and smart enough to stay warm when possible. That's what it tells me.