Living Between and Thugs and Gays

I spent a few days in December in Tampa, FL.

At first I relished the thought of warm weather. But when presented with 80F and 150% humidity I started to sweat. After two days a cold front blew in, and the 65-73F temps were welcome.

When I travel I pick hotels based on proximity to brewpubs, so I can walk back from the brewpub to the hotel without worrying about a DUI. Not to say that I am quite intoxicated ... there is a large gap between "too much to drive" and "enough to affect my next day". So in this case, I found the New World Brewery and Tampa Bay Brewery blocks from the Hampton Inn of Ybor City, which is five miles from the customer.

My first impression of the area was "this looks like a nice place", sort of like 23rd in Portland, except that the place was deserted. Just a lot of Christmas lights and lots of shops. Maybe 75F was too cold for them ... never mind the signs claiming this is a historic district.

On the way to my customer I passed through da 'hood. The police were having a shootout so they detoured traffic around it. Ohhhhh kaaaaay. When I arrived at the customer, they confirmed it is a "rough neighborhood" I was sandwiched between the thuggy part of Ybor and the Gay part of Ybor ... or "GaYbor" as the locals call it. He said I should be OK as long as I don't waltz around on the weekend, as I might "get picked on".

Thus, I took the hotel shuttle to Tampa Bay Brewing. That was kind of stupid, because it took 45 minutes for the shuttle to arrive and then it took me four blocks. They had a good Barleywine, the rest all tasted the same. I walked the four blocks back to the hotel, carrying my big honking Clive Barker book. I can't imagine any gay person would pick on anyone reading Clive Barker ... but if they are a thug, I could jettison the ballast and sprint. Considering that most of the people here are overweight and smoke big-ass cigars, I've got an edge.

Next night I tried New World Brewery, and stashed some sacrificial cash into a pocket so if I get mugged the 1.5 blocks to the brewery, they would get $5 and a credit card.

The New World Brewery was great! An intimate courtyard, and lots of guest  (primarily Belgian) Christmas brews, on tap. I chatted a while with the owner, and enjoyed the $5 plate of BBQ chicken and the live music ... which was a duet, a guitars and vocals, doing covers like Danzig's "Mother". Interesting. It really feels like Portland. And I didn't even get mugged on the way back....

Next day for lunch I seek out Urban Spoon, which lists Sonny's Sandwich Shop as nearby. I go there, notice it is squarely in 'da hood, and pass it by to find Brocatos'. Had half of a GREAT Cuban sandwich there, before heading back to the client and noticing a few squad cars and police in bullet-proof vests around Sonny's. I think I dodged a bullet! Literally! I mentioned this to my customer, and he said Brocato's is on the edge of da 'hood but the owner has no compunctions about jumping out from behind the counter with a sawed-off shotgun when they try to rob him, and until the "Stand Your Ground" law was passed, he was regularly in trouble for protecting his restaurant, employees and cash. Welcome to Tampa, a shit-hole equal to Philadelphia.

So what did I do that night? I ate the rest of my Cuban, left most of my money in the room and walked over to the New World Brewery, had a couple more awesome Belgian brews. And then ... out of nowhere, 20+ bicyclists descended on the brewpub, had a beer, and left. Weird.

The Hell Ride

View Larger Map In the morning I was up and packed, rolling east on I-94 out of Billings as the horizon was starting to glow. It was a cool 47F.  At the last minute I made a decision to go the northern route, via North Dakota, as I have seen South Dakota too many times. It's also quicker, and the scenery is a bit more interesting the first couple hundred miles. Stopped to brew a cup of coffee and have a chocolate chip cookie.

The road was smoother too. The valleys and ridges of central Montana gave way to the badlands of North Dakota. Then it got flat and a stiff 64F wind blew at 45 mph gusts out of the north until I got to Minnesota. For 400 miles I rode at an angle. It sucked. This was tougher than the Ironbutt. But I was determined to make it home today.

When I angled south after Moorhead the wind was at my back. The sun set, I put away the sunglasses and had some almonds. There wasn't much traffic in the Twin Cities at 8pm, and for some reason there was a nice lack of bugs the last 200 miles too.

22:06 I rolled into the garage, a 900'ish mile day.

5200.6 miles spread over eight days of riding - probably the most ambitious ride I've undertaken so far. The FJR handled it with aplomb, the suspension compliant on the interstates and with two clicks more rebound, lively on the backroads. When cruising at 85mph at 4500rpm in 5th gear, a quick twist lunges the bike forward to 100 mph to get out of blind spots or faster when passing. Lots of luggage capacity, and averaged about 42 mpg. The beaded seat is a god-send for my derrier, the wind-shield protection from cold and what little rain I had. Now I've got a leaky fork seal to deal with, and I am still debating whether to fix 2nd gear.




We'll see ....

Leaving the land of Subarus and Hobo's

View Larger Map

Not much to write about leaving PDX... Ron and I went east on I-84, crossed the Bridge of the Gods to Washington and took 14 to 730 to 12 to Walla Walla where we tried to camp but balked at the $30 camp fee and decided a cheap hotel room was a better value.

We found beer at Safeway and a Dominos pizza and talked about many things.

One of which was Portland's increasingly prevalent homeless problem. One should not be surprised that when compassionate policies are implemented, the homeless will be drawn to your city...

Stupid LItterers

View Larger Map

Ron and I were up early, out before dawn. I very much enjoyed our beer-n-pizza fueled discussions the night before, and was once again reminded why I enjoy traveling with Ron.

Not much to write about today. Ron went home, west, and I went home too, east. First along 12 up over Lolo, which was unfortunately hazy from wildfires.

Then through Missoula to I-90 to Billings. Chuck was in Helena and it was tempting to stop there for the night and join him at the local brewpub, but that means stopping at 4pm, which is too early, and require 1200 miles on Wednesday. If I get out early at 2am that might be feasible, but I would be off the interstate on 2-lane highways at night. Not only is there an increased risk of animals, but the speed limits at night are slower in Montana.

Likewise, it was tempting to stop at the Pickelbarrel, but I would be fighting 5pm traffic there and back. I would probably lose 30 minutes of daylight, at least! So I pushed on to Billings, resolving to stop at the Montana Brewing Company if the KOA didn't have good beer. But they did (yellowstone valley brewing, black widow stout). Good stuff!

The camper next to me from nor-cal was on a 2009 r1200gs and was also on his way to MN, but on a more leisurely pace. He wasn't due in Minnesota until Friday. He said his wife is flying into MSP and then they are renting canoes and camping in the boundary waters. Jennifer would be jealous!

And so I hit the sack, making sure no feral cats are in my tent, despite how cute they look, sitting in the grass, waiting for me to leave my soup unattended....

Oh yeah. LIttering smokers, forgot to explain this.

When I was leaving the Bozeman pass I saw smoke from the grass next to the highway, the start of another wildfire. I called it in to 911 but they already had a crew on the way. Clearly probably a smoker who had tossed a lit butt out the window, despite the frequent signs proclaiming severe fire hazard and specifically asking smokers to "keep cigarettes in the trays". If anything, I wish smokers would stop littering our world with their butts. Why can't they discard of them properly, instead of on sidewalks, in gutters, or out the windows of cars?
As I continued to Billings I became more conscious of scorched grass and tree trunks along the highway ... and thinking that I could support a tax on cigs to help pay for the cost of fighting grass / forest fires near roads, and for the salaries of the folks who pick up their litter.

Stupid littering smokers [presumably].