The morning begins early. Even as I'm getting up at 5 a.m. I already hear bikes leaving the hotel parking lot. I am gassed up and packed so need only shower, dress and eat. The breakfast area is filled with riders. We all know we will be on the bikes for a long period in the heat and humidity so need our own fuel and hydration. I am surprised when I arrive at the Harley dealership to find that though I am 45 minutes early I am very much toward the back of the pack. In years past there haven't even been bikes parked this far out.
The mood is friendly though reserved. Not sure if it's the early morning, the late night or the somber occasion. Probably a little of each. There is lots of talk of coffee and water, friends trying to line up together, and people recognizing one another from past years. There are a lot of new riders and they are easy to spot, if not by the uncertain look of how to line up then by the questions they are asking everyone around them.
Finally announcements are made, organization and cooperation are stressed, the blessing is given and gradually the group begins to depart. There are certain groups to the front, including VIP's and the police escort motorcycles. As there is all along our route we first pass under a large flag and both citizens and volunteers line the roadways and wave to us as we ride by.
The sun had just made it's debut over the eastern skyline as I prepared for my turn to pull out. The morning is cool but not cold, and feels good through my mesh jacket to my bare arms and there are patches of misty fog hanging along some of the trees and small valleys made by the low rolling hills and pastures. It is beautiful and perfect.
The area around here is mostly countryside but even along the two lane road there are some houses and businesses, though they are few and far between. At most of them the people are outside. A few just watch us pass but the majority of them are outside to show their support for our ride of remembrance. They wave, they clap, they give us a thumbs up. This is a theme that will carry on throughout this ride.
As we travel down these familiar country roads there already seems to be a difference in this year's ride. It appears that there are more people and signs than in the past. This change holds true for the woman who always has a sign welcoming and wishing a safe ride, another thanking us and saying good-bye until next year, all while she's on her porch waving. This time she has an additional sign which says, "Our Nation Under God", and she is sitting roadside on her lawn waving to us with her dogs.
Passing through the actual United 93 Memorial site is more symbolic than anything because it is a constant procession of bikes and difficult to actually see anything while making a turn on dirt and rock, with construction equipment there as well. But while bikes ride up the left side of the road to the Memorial bikes are riding down the right, and it is a chance to see the other riders with whom you are sharing this journey.
Then it's back on the roadway and traveling southeast through the Pennsylvania and Maryland countryside. Many bikes pick up speed and take off leaving a large gap. But I have done this ride before and I have read the road rules several times. I know that if I too jump on the throttle I will catch up quicker but then slow considerably and increase the dreaded accordion affect. So I ride at a speed that has me gradually closing the gap, knowing there is a town ahead that will slow everyone down and I will catch up with ease. There are a few bikes behind me that are new to this ride and grow impatient, two even go around and take off. Without changing my speed I am on their tailpipes in just a few minutes as they are now creeping along. Keeping us all close is important but this ride isn't about moments of speed, or having fun, or about any of us as individuals. It is a memorial ride to honor and remember those lost.
In the past the little town of Berlin has had a few people along the roadway in town to welcome us, and a moment two years ago that tore at my heart. As we passed by a home only one person was outside. It was a young boy, maybe 11 or 12, standing alone in the warm rain in his driveway wearing shorts, a tank top, and his father's firefighter helmet. This year the streets along the main part of town were crowded for a town their size. Flags, signs and people happily greeted us. I looked for the boy again but no one was outside his home. Perhaps he too had been back in town.
As we again find ourselves in the rolling green countryside there are the occasional Amish farm houses near the road. This year I saw not only a few individuals out front or on their porches, but entire families outside and closer to the roadway, waving to us as we passed by. There were people standing at the Mason-Dixon and Maryland state lines, and those with flags sitting outside the one building of Barrellville, MD cheering us on. Proof that every American was touched by the tragedies and attacks on our country ten years ago.
In years past there has been a stop made at Allegany College after passing through the town of Cumberland, Maryland. However, due to the number of bikes this year this was not possible. But we still made our way into Cumberland and were greeted with the appreciation and patriotism they always show, only this year the townspeople were lined up beginning at the outskirts of town, and were several people deep in some areas. The people of this town have always put a lump in my throat but this time they took my breath away.
Next up was our lunch and gas break in Hagerstown, MD. With only two gas stations and the need to fill up before eating, it was coordinated chaos. Actually, there was no real chaos, that was probably just the heat-induced feeling. We traveled 124 miles in five hours without stopping. And the long gas lines heated up our legs even more than the sun and humidity. But once the tank was full it was time to find the outhouse, the food and water, and the shade - in that order. At this time in my infinite wisdom I place an extra bottle of water inside the side pocket of my mesh jacket for hydration on the road. Smartest thing I did the entire trip.
Of course while we are all cooling off and nourishing our tired bodies, we continue to meet new people and catch up with those from the past. We are all looking a little worn out, and there may be a little exhaustive complaint or two heard, but in the scheme of things most of us know that what we are dealing with is minute in retrospect.
Having almost been at the end of the procession the call to saddle up seems too soon. But when I see others getting on their bikes I step out from under a tree and get ready myself. I am looking forward to the ride through beautiful Leesburg and especially the evening in Arlington, remembering the great time last year and the new friends I made. This year there will be a street fair type event, including a concert by Aaron Tippen.
The road we take into Virginia is highway 15. I always enjoy the scenic route and the view as it crosses the Potomac River. For the first time just after crossing the bridge we are met by a group of supporters lined up along the state and county line. It is a great welcoming into Virginia. And as we travel south I see people lined up where there are normally none, or larger amounts of people were there are usually few.
The townspeople of Leesburg have always welcomed us with open arms and a wonderful show of support and I expected no less this year. What I didn't expect was for them to be able to seemingly triple the number of people along the roadway, and to be able to show even more appreciation. It was beautiful and yet another moment that I felt as if my heart skipped a beat. And this was all made even more special by the fact that Leesburg considered diverting the ride to the Bypass, until the citizens had their say. In fact, right in the middle of downtown I saw a woman holding a sign which read, "Leesburg does not bypass Patriotism". As I rode past I got the woman's attention, pointed to her sign and told her I loved it. She smiled, shouted out a thank you and gave me a thumbs up.
At the end of town we jumped over to the Dulles Parkway where we could accelerate and bring the bikes together. What I didn't expect to see were people. I could hardly believe my eyes all the times I saw someone and wondered how they got there. I think my favorite was the couple of families that took blankets and lawn chairs across the expansive lawn area between their homes and the Parkway to set up near the road and show their support. I was overwhelmed to see so many not only on the roadside but on the overpasses, even above Interstate 66 as we neared Washington, D.C., because they had not been there in previous years.
As we came around the Iwo Jima Memorial and alongside the white headstones of Arlington National Cemetery I expected to see mass chaos on the roadway as it neared 4:30 p.m. on a Friday night, but such a view never materialized. The next thing you know we are exiting the freeway and everyone is making their way to their hotels after covering 90 miles in 3 1/2 hours.
But despite the time or the heat it has been an awe filled day. It wasn't just the masses of people that was overwhelming but often the actions of just one. As we left the outskirts of Cumberland there was a man standing beside his pickup that had a large Gold Star flag draped across it. Along the interstate a man was standing on the shoulder solemnly saluting all of us, something I saw a few other older men do as well. One man parked in the center divide of opposing traffic and walked across the grass median just to wave a full-sized flag until we all passed by. And at the roundabout north of Leesburg a person held a shirt with the name of a loved one who perished in the terror attacks, causing me to fight back tears. Reminders of the realities of why we do this ride were everywhere today, and so were a lot of true American Patriots. Makes ever moment, the sweat, the dirt, the pain all worthwhile.
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