Canada road trips

Tag: Canada road trips

Brief description of what to expect from posts here.

They’ve All Come To Look For America

Posted by Mike Boyd | Sep 16, 2022 | Ride Life, Rides & Roads | 11 |

The Kindness of Strangers

Posted by Ted Edwards | Jun 25, 2021 | Ride Life | 4 |

The Zombie Ninja, Pt. 2

Posted by Ted Edwards | Jun 10, 2021 | Ride Life, Rides & Roads | 7 |

They’ve All Come To Look For America

by Mike Boyd | Sep 16, 2022 | Ride Life, Rides & Roads | 11 |

On my 2018 Honda Goldwing, with my friend Max on his 2015 Harley Road King, we launched out on our whirlwind 6,000 mile, 2-week trip across the United States. Sick of the constant negative news and craziness of current culture, we hit the road to get a taste again of real America, like the old Simon & Garfunkel song to which my title refers. We averaged between 400 and 500 miles each day. We left North Georgia and blasted our way up through Kentucky and Illinois into Iowa. It was amazing to see the changes in the landscape from the eastern United States to the central and then to the west. Our lands are rich in diversity, in so many ways.

The Kindness of Strangers

by Ted Edwards | Jun 25, 2021 | Ride Life | 4 |

Yosemite Valley stranger’s interaction stood out since it was rare, a blip on my travel radar because overwhelmingly I find the American spirit of kindness to strangers permeates every place I visit. I could write stories ad infinitum (kind of my job here at Road Dirt) about total strangers who have waved hello, offered a kind word, given me food, welcomed me into their homes, granted access to their garage to repair my bike, given me shelter in a storm, let me spend the night on their couch, became close friends or even adopted me into their family as their own son. This is the rule. Yosemite Valley man, you are the exception.

The Zombie Ninja, Pt. 2

by Ted Edwards | Jun 10, 2021 | Ride Life, Rides & Roads | 7 |

Joining our squad of swift, veteran riders was my 16-year old son Matt, who earned his driver’s license and motorcycle endorsement simultaneously little more than a month before. A motorcycle I nicknamed the Zombie Ninja was his mount, a Kawasaki Ninja 500R that absorbed parts and money like a giant, sucking black hole of bottomless misery until it roared to life just days before departure. Before us lay the 30 miles of Canada’s 31A, technical tarmac where beauty reigns, crashes are frequent and speed is a punishable commodity.