After the storm that hit the night before the first thing on every one's mind was the weather. But even at 5 a.m. it appeared the skies would be clear. That proved to be the case not just in the D.C. area but fair weather followed us all day. If you had experienced the thunderstorm Friday night you would understand the relief we all felt.
The line-up spot on Saturday morning is not the local Harley dealership but the Pentagon parking lot. It amazes me every year to ride around the building and sit looking at the home of our military's defense. I have even toured the inside twice. I have stood at the point where American Airlines Flight 77 first struck the building as well as the point where the penetration ended. Two years ago I met a man who had been in the building when it was hit and he thanked us for participating in the Ride because he felt it important we never forget those who were lost or what happened to our country. And last February I was on a flight home from Dulles when I learned that it was the renumbered Flight 77. I felt humbled as I spoke with the flight attendant.
After the requisite announcements we all face the large flag hoisted overhead by a firetruck and place our hands over our hearts while a soldier sings our National Anthem. Before we saddle up a wonderful priest from Connecticut, who goes by the name Chip and rides with us every year, leads us in a prayer and blessing for our country, our First Responders, our military and our ride.
There are 1720 bikes that depart the Pentagon and as we enter the freeway I look out at the Washington Monument, the Jefferson Memorial, and all the buildings of our nation's capitol. I am at the heart of our country and looking at one building that was struck by terrorists and another that was targeted.
After passing through D.C. we head north up the Baltimore-Washington Parkway passing so many recognizable places and names along the way. It is amazing as a Californian to see so many cities and sites that are important to our country's past, its leadership, and its defense. Once again, even on an early Saturday morning, there are people along the roadways and overpasses showing their support for our country and our ride of remembrance.
For our first break the ride overtakes the northbound section of the Maryland House rest stop. It takes time to coordinate all the bikes but eventually we are all parked. Aside from gas, food and drinks we are all still meeting new people and finding those from past years. As always on these breaks and with the heat and humidity, the most important thing we all do is re-hydrate. I am amazed at how smoothly everything is managed for such a large group, down to the lines at the shops.
It is even more amazing that despite our traveling along more urban areas there are still overpasses where people are standing, holding flags, waving, though these have become fewer and further between. Then before we know it we arrive in New Castle, Delaware and Mike's Famous Harley-Davidson. The great volunteers make the trek to the gas stations and back, as well as the parking situation, all run smoothly once again. As with every year I've attended, we are treated to lunch and given more opportunities to meet other riders.
What has been most amazing to me is running into some of the same people each day, something I wouldn't have expected considering the size of the ride. But my favorite part is seeing those from past rides, which happens once again as soon as I park. My first year's ride in 2007, we fell behind the group through Cumberland. The rider in front of me stood on his pegs, looked around and guided the rest of us in the right direction and later we got to know each other at our lunch break. He joins the ride every other year, and in 2009 we ran into each other at the stop in Linden, NJ. This time I find myself parked just behind him. It is always fun to recognize someone and have a chance to chat once again.
Just as when we had arrived, as we leave we pass under a large American flag hoisted on a firetruck and are cheered on by the volunteers and people of New Castle. We head out on the highway for New Jersey, and all those wonderful people along the roads who wave or stop to support what we are doing.
Because I've done this ride three times before I am not expecting anything new or different with the exception of changes due to the large size of the group. As with any assumption that was a mistake on my part.
As we traveled through New Jersey the route took us to a place we had not visited before, Hightstown. This little town was quaint and beautiful with it's hanging flower pots and the people along the streets waving. But then the main road curved left into the heart of downtown and what I saw took my breath away. The sidewalks and roadway were packed with people. A firetruck was parked to the left with several firefighters in their dress uniforms standing alongside and their color guard to the right of them. As I passed I pulled up my camera for a photo and one of them saluted.
It wasn't until the next stop I would learn that this was the hometown of Todd Beamer, the United 93 passenger who uttered the phrase, "Let's roll" to his fellow passengers when they decided to attack the terrorists and force their plane into the field outside Shanksville. The lump I had felt in my throat now became an audible gasp.
One of my favorite stops is in Linden, New Jersey. The shopping center between the Applebee's Restaurant and Home Depot opens it's parking lot for our large procession each year and the doors to their businesses, especially their restrooms. There is always a stage for entertainment and presentations, a color guard and the Pledge of Allegiance, and plenty of food and cold drinks given away to us all. This is all given from the heart and in the name of patriotism by the citizens and the local businesses of Linden. We are only 15 miles from our day's destination but no one minds the stop, instead we are grateful to see yet another town celebrating their love of country and dedicated to upholding the memories of those lost.
The sun sets as we leave the parking lot and head for the Holland Tunnel and Midtown Manhattan in New York City. This is the first time we have traveled into the City at night, and though it is still warm and humid we know it will be cooler than before as we make our way to and through the tunnel. In the past we have had to stop and go as we would proceed up to the tunnel, the heat of the pipes burning at our legs and some bikes overheating. But we are in luck this trip and though we are traveling slowly we have our feet on the boards all the way through.
But we are again surprised as we exit the tunnel and make a sharp right turn. There are people and flags lining both sides of the street and cheering us on. It is an amazing site to see on the streets of New York. We continue on to the West Side highway, past the docked Intrepid, strung with red and blue lights, then turn towards Broadway and past the theater district thick with people coming and going from shows such as Jersey Boys. Suddenly we turn and see that we have overtaken 7th Avenue and the volunteers standing in the middle of the roadway are pointing us to the side streets to park. It is dark and late after a day of being on the road since 7 a.m., and the streets are crowded with Saturday night foot traffic in Time Square. We all unload our gear, head for our hotels and showers before our night on the town or a warm, comfy bed.
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