I was riding through a small town in Pennsylvania on my way to a hotel of campground somewhere in the Allegheny National Forest. Call it appetite or maybe a fit of loneliness, but I felt the need to stop and grab a bite to eat even though I wasn't really hungry. A song may have been playing in my headset which included gastronomic lyrics ; Someone left the cake out in the rain, Cheeseburger in Paradise, Black Coffee, or anything by the duo of Peaches and Cream.
It was one of those Pennsylvania towns like Mt. Jewett, Alaska, Coryville or Anita, north of Punxsutawney. You know the place? One diner towns, where everyone knows the movement of all their neighbors and a stranger on a black motorcycle riding down Main Street at 11:00AM.
That lone diner was on the left side of Main street in the mix of brick buildings which housed endless closed businesses. It appeared closed, but I saw a woman standing in the window as I passed by. I wasn't about to do a U-turn. I turned right and circled the block on my left to end up heading back north on Main. The angle parking lines had a fresh coat of paint and I believed they were all empty due to a possiblity of wet paint.
So, how does that paint dry so fast? Seriously, I've seen traffic painting contractors putting down those little yellow cones as they paint the dotted lines right in the middle of the road and someone would be following a few hundred feet behind to pick up the same cones. I would intentionally ride behind the cone pick up technician and see if my tires would smear the crisp edges of the white dashes or weave back and forth across the double solid yellow lines in anticipation of seeing a serpentine pattern in my rear view mirror.
Not a chance!
OK, back to the diner. My stomach had started growling at the thought of food and coffee. Of course! It was 11:04AM and I had not eaten breakfast. When I stopped at the 8-O-Clock Pancake House at exactly 8:00AM, it was closed, so I just headed south and tried to forget about visions of bacon strips tucked neatly between two thick pumpkin pancakes and a bottomless cup of coffee which might have tickled my taste buds.
I carefully pulled between two parking lines and parked Mozi facing the sidewalk and the Diner front door. What is the local law for parking a motorcycle in an angle spot? Back home, I am told you gotta park with the motorcycle heading back out of the space and the rear wheel just a foot or so from the curb. Anyway, in this town, I'll claim ignorance.
I walked in and sat at the counter of an empty diner. Greeted by the woman I had seen earlier in my tour of the entire town, I asked for a Diet Coke and a menu, "Let me see what I want for lunch."
She passed me a large drink and handed over the one piece of paper with the words "All You Can Eat, Tomorrow"
She rushed back into the kitchen, but returned in 4 or 5 minutes, "So, what does Massachusetts want for lunch?"
I was puzzled but had to smile, "What makes you think I am from Massachusetts?"
"I just heard it on the police scanner." She nodded her head to the side facing the front windows.
I turned just in time to see an elderly policeman standing next to Mozi. I felt the need to go outside and see why I was going to jail for the first time in my life.
"Morning, officer. So, this is my motorcycle. Is there a problem?"
"No problem." He wouldn't make eye contact with me and I found it hard to swallow.
My mouth was dry and there was an ice cold beverage on the counter that I may no be able to finish.
"Then why did we just hear it over the police scanner?"
Finally, he looked at me and smiled. Was this the grin usually preceding "You have the right to remain silent..."?
Officer responded, "I called it in to see what year it was. 1970? She's in good shape. How long have you had her?"
I was still waiting for a camera crew to step out of a hidden doorway and focus their lens on me with a tiny red light flashing to indicate we were live.
"Did you buy it new?" He was serious.
"I just got her a few months ago. I've been on the road since September 1st, to travel through each...." I stopped short of going into details about what I was doing. We talked for a few more minutes and I asked him to join my for lunch or at least a cup of coffee.
I was introduced to Officer Roy when we sat at the counter and spent what seemed like an hour talking about my mission, my Big Adventure and what the heck I was out to prove by visiting all 48 states to spend enough time in one small town to find one victim who might spill their guts about Freedom and maybe a cool story about their town. After I finished the last bite of my now cold burger and onion rings, Roy was now finished with his second beer and it was time for me to move on. On the sidewalk, I asked Roy again about his love for motorcycles and why he has never owned one. In his first 68 years of life, he had dodged the bug and also refrained from going against his wife's wishes over the past 50 years by not buying a motorcycle.
I asked Officer Roy to take Mozi for a ride. "Just a ride around the block or a couple of blocks down Main Street? Come on, it's really easy."
"Son, this will always be something for me to dream about." Roy adjusted his jacket and walked around Mozi with his eyes glued to the engine. "After all, I am on duty. Word would get back to me in a negative way."
"Well, can you do me a favor?" I continued, "I am filming as I ride for a documentary video about this trip and it would be great to have a scene of being followed by a police car and the lights flashing behind me. Would you follow me out of town with your emergency lights on? No siren, just the lights."
"Sure, which way are you heading?"
"South..or is it west, south west?"
He pointed to the left, "South is that way, about a mile and half out of town."
I positioned my Flip Video Camera to the handlebar with a mini tripod and Velcro strap. Mozi was fired up and I backed her up into the absence of traffic and we headed past the diner once more. Roy came in behind me a little too close for my comfort. I motioned with my left hand for him to back off a bit. Roy slowed down to a safe distance and we proceeded out of town. As the town limit sign on the left appeared in my mirror, I put on my right turn signal and eased off of the pavement and stopped next to the road, which was the only level ground there. I shut Mozi down and walked back to the patrol car.
"Officer Roy, the way I see it, you are out of your jurisdiction and must be off duty. My offer is still good. Just a little ride? I'll take the baggage off and you can ride on the back. Come...On!"
"Ken, I appreciate the offer. Stay safe and now do me a favor."
"Sure, what is it?"
"Go back and pay for your lunch?"
I felt like an idiot. I have never done that before. Or have I? How would I know. Note to myself; Make sure to pay before you leave.
I went back and acted as if Roy and I had just gone for a little spin during our lunch and all of this action had made me thirsty again. Another Diet Coke and I paid my tab.
Mozi on...
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