September 11, 2001, is a day everyone remembers. I was just getting up when my daughter ran in to tell us about what was on the news: A plane had just hit the World Trade Center. Then, while watching the news, we saw another plane hit the second tower. Then we heard about the Pentagon. And finally, we heard about Flight 93: The plane that went down in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
It was story that would develop over the next several days. Unquestionably, beyond the horror, anger, and emotions of that day, the story about the bravery of the Flight 93 passengers emerged. Words that would become known around the world emerged from Todd Beamer, who simply said “Let’s roll.”
We made the trek to the Flight 93 National Memorial recently. It’s something we all should do. The riding in that part of the world is epic, the scenery is stunning, and the Flight 93 National Memorial is an emotional experience. I don’t mind telling you I choked up while up visiting the Flight 93 National Memorial, and I’m choking up writing this blog.
The Tower of Voices, near the park entrance. It’s a gigantic set of wind chimes still under construction. The sign includes another famous quote from George Bush as he was standing on the World Trade Center debris.A closer view of the Tower of Voices. It’s not operational yet. I’m going to make the ride here again when it is.
The Flight 93 National Memorial is somber, dignified, and elegant. It consists of the Tower of Voices near the entrance to the area (see above), the impact area, a building with exhibits (in which no photography is allowed), a dark stone walkway denoting Flight 93’s flight path and point of impact, and a wall of 40 tablets (each carrying the name of Flight 93’s victims).
The large structure on the right is the museum. It is thought provoking, emotional, and somber. The dark walkway traces Flight 93’s direction of flight to the impact point. The grassy area to the right is the edge of the debris field.
The dark stone walkway shown in the photo below points to the impact area. At its end (where you see people) you can gaze out over a large grassy field bordered by a hemlock forest.
The walkway pointing to the impact area.Taking the walkway in the opposite direction takes you on a counterclockwise walk to the tablet area and into the debris field. We visited on a glorious Pennsylvania day, much like the weather on 9/11.The large boulder you see here weighs 14 tons. It was moved from the Tower of Voices site to this location, which is where Flight 93 impacted. Its speed was 563 mph.The 40 tablets, each carrying the name of a Flight 93 victim.Todd Beamer led the passenger assault on the bastards who hijacked Flight 93.This small tile was at the base of the Todd Beamer tablet shown in the photo above.
We believe that Flight 93’s intended target was the United States Capitol. Had the Flight 93 passengers not acted, our national catastrophe would have been much greater. Both houses of Congress were in session that morning.
Another view of the 40 tablets.It was hard to see some of this.
A grate of formed stone pointed from the tablets to the impact zone. Looking between the slats, the boulder denoting the point of impact is visible.
The impact field.The boulder marking the impact point.
As I mentioned above, I had a difficult time maintaining my composure when visiting the Flight 93 National Memorial. There is evil in the world, and it was out on September 11, 2001. Todd Beamer and the other Flight 93 passengers prevented the criminals who hijacked Flight 93 from achieving their objective. The Flight 93 National Memorial is a fitting tribute to their sacrifice.
There is much symbolism in the Flight 93 National Memorial. The dark sidewalks and borders represent the coal mined in the Shanksville area. The lighter stone structures (the walls of the museum and more) are impressed with the grain structure of the hemlock trees bordering the impact area. The angles in the sidewalks and walls are representative of the hemlock branches. There are three rows of benches in the viewing area, representing Flight 93’s three passenger seats in each row.
The areas around Shanksville are all rural and the riding is amazing. Shanksville is in the Allegheny Mountains, and this part of Pennsylvania is stunning. We visited in April and the Spring weather was a brisk 60 degrees in the day. It gets hot and humid in the summer. The Fall weather offers stunning views of the trees changing colors. I’d think twice before attempting this ride in the winter months due to the freezing temperatures and snow.
Nearby Somerset’s Rey Azteca’s chile relleno with chicken. It was exquisite.
We stayed in Somerset, Pennsylvania, when we visited the Flight 93 National Memorial. Somerset is the nearest town of any size. It’s about 10 miles away from the National Memorial. Shanksville is a very small community without hotels, although that will probably change (the Flight 93 National Memorial is the least visited of the 9/11 memorials, no doubt due to its remote location). If you stay in Somerset, the best kept secret is Rey Azteca, a Mexican restaurant with awesome cuisine. Rey Azteca’s chicken chile relleno is prepared in the Guatemalan style and it is awesome.
Tell your friends about ExNotes by sharing a link. Thanks very much!
It was an epic battle, fought over just three days, with monstrous casualties incurred by both sides due to a deadly combination of improved weaponry and Napoleonic tactics. Muskets transitioned from smoothbores to rifled barrels (greatly enhancing accuracy); military formations (not yet adopted to the quantum leap forward in accuracy) fought in shoulder-to-shoulder advancing columns. Both sides held their fire until the Union and Confederate armies were at can’t-miss distances. It was brutal. Gettysburg suffered 51,000 casualties. Eleven general officers were killed. It was the bloodiest battle of the Civil War, but it was turning point. General Robert E. Lee, the previously invincible and charismatic hero of the South, had been soundly defeated. General George Meade, appointed to command the Union troops just days before the battle, achieved a tactical victory regarded by his superiors as a strategic failure (Lincoln later said Meade held the Confederate Army in the palm of his hand but refused to close his fist).
Perhaps best known for Lincoln’s Gettysburg address given months after the fighting (delivered at the dedication of a cemetery), Gettysburg is a town, a free National Military Park, and hallowed ground. But first, read these 275 words…275 of the most elegant words ever assembled by anyone:
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
Elegant, eloquent, and to the point: Lincoln spoke for a short two minutes after a two-hour speech by a former Harvard College president. Lincoln wrote the words himself (not, as rumor would have us believe, on the back of an envelope during the train ride to Gettysburg, but carefully crafted by Lincoln in the White House and then polished upon his arrival in Gettysburg). No speechwriters, no opinion surveys, no communications experts as would be the case today. I wish that in a nation of 330 million people we could find another Lincoln (rather than the continuing cascade of clowns we’ve had to choose from in the last several elections).
I first visited Gettysburg 60 years ago as a little kid and I was a little kid again on this visit. Gettysburg was way more wonderful than I remembered but still the same. The Visitor Center is new and better equipped. There are more monuments (approximately 1,350 such monuments; you will see just a few in this blog). The battlefield remains the same. It is impressive. You need to see it.
There are many exhibits in the Gettysburg Visitor Center, including two large displays of Union and Confederate sidearms.
You can take your car or motorcycle through Gettysburg National Military Park on a self-guided tour, you can take a bus tour, or you can hire a guide. Any of these approaches are good.
Cannon line a typical road through the Gettysburg battlefield.
The Battle of Gettysburg occurred over three days (July 1 to July 3, 1863) that changed the calculus of the Civil War. Lee took his Army of Northern Virginia north, hoping to continue an unbroken string of Confederate victories, so sure of his likely success that he ignored the tactical advice of his generals. He prevailed on the first day, but flawed tactics and a combination of Union brilliance and resolve turned the tide and the War. It culminated in what has become known as Pickett’s Charge, a Confederate uphill advance across a mile of open land into unrelenting Union cannon fire. The Union artillery had the reach (two miles of direct fire; there were no forward observers adjusting fire as we have now). The cannons were deadly, and then troops closed to small arms distance, and then finally to hand-to-hand combat. More than 12,000 of Pickett’s men marched into the Union killing fields; nearly half were foolishly lost. It was the turning point for everything: The South’s success, the Battle of Gettysburg, and the Civil War.
The views are magnificent. We were aided by an overcast day, with diffuse lighting that made for improved photography.
Numerous state militia fought at Gettysburg. Each of the states and their militia erected monuments in the years following the Civil War. The New York monuments were always the largest, at least until New York completed the last of its statues and structures. Pennsylvania, waiting and watching patiently, then built a monument that dwarfed New York’s best efforts. But all are impressive.
The 91st Pennsylvania Infantry monument on Little Round Top near Cemetery Ridge. This area was the high ground held by the Union.
The two armies had been maneuvering near each other, and as is usually the case in such things, first contact was accidental. The Confederate forces initially prevailed and their leader, General Robert E. Lee, assumed this success would continue. Lee’s subordinate’s told him it would not, as they did not hold the high ground. Lee pressed ahead anyway, suffering a defeat that marked a turning point (one of many) in the Civil War.
A view from Little Round Top, looking down into the killing fields of Pickett’s Charge. 12,000 men marched forward; more than half were lost in a single afternoon.
Gettysburg National Military Park is a photographer’s dream, and many battlefield areas present dramatic photo ops. The monuments are impressive and more than a few offer several ways to frame a photo.
The 44th and 12th New York Infantry monument on Little Round Top at the south end of Cemetery Ridge, framing the field of battle. This is a massive and impressive monument.Artillery lines in Gettysburg National Military Park. Many of the cannon are original items and saw actual use in the Battle of Gettysburg.When the ammunition ran out, it was hand to hand fighting at Gettysburg. This is the 72nd Pennsylvania Infantry monument on Cemetery Ridge. The 72nd Pennsylvania Infantry played a key role in defeating the Confederate advance known as Pickett’s Charge.
I was up early the next morning before we left Gettysburg, and I returned to the battlefield to capture a better photo or two of the State of Pennsylvania monument. It’s the largest in Gettysburg National Military Park. I was so impressed by it the day before I forgot to get a photo.
The State of Pennsylvania’s monument, at 110 feet tall, is the tallest of 1350 monuments on the Gettysburg battlefield. You can climb an interior spiral staircase to see the entire battlefield from this monument.The beautiful 8th Pennsylvania Cavalry monument framing the State of Pennsylvania monument. The tree trunk beneath the horse was necessary to support the statue’s weight. Interestingly, the 8th Pennsylvania Cavalry did not take part in the fighting at Gettysburg, but instead guarded supply lines in Maryland.
The country roads leading to Gettysburg, and the riding in Pennsylvania, are way beyond just being good. Several rides to Gettysburg are memorable, and everything on the battlefield is accessible via an extensive network of narrow lanes. Take your time when navigating the Park’s interior battlefield lanes; this is an area best taken in at lower speeds.
A 180-degree panoramic view from Little Round Top. Click on this image to see a larger version.
Getting to Gettysburg is straightforward. From the south take Interstate 83 north and State Route 116 east. From the east or west you can ride Interstate 76 and then pick up any of the numbered state routes heading south. If you are coming from points southwest, Maryland is not too far away and the riding through Catoctin Mountain Park on Maryland’s State Route 77 is some of the best you’ll ever find.
The best kept secrets at Gettysburg? On the battlefield, it’s Neill Avenue, also known as the Lost Avenue. It’s the least visited area of Gettysburg National Military Park, and probably the most original with regard to how the battlefield looked on those three fateful days in July 1863. As for good places to eat, my vote is for The Blue and Gray Bar and Grill in downtown Gettysburg (just off the square in the center of town; try their chili) and Mr. G’s Ice Cream just a block away. Both are excellent.
Never miss an ExNotes blog; sign up here for free:
Any story about Bill’s Old Bike Barn has to feature Bill Morris, the man who created it all. The museum and its contents are amazing. The man is even more so.
Bill grew up right where I met him: Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania, the site of Bill’s Old Bike Barn. Bill started working at age 11 on the farm, and he never stopped. Bill is 83 now, something I found hard to believe (he doesn’t look or act like it), and his energy level tops most young folks I know. Let’s start with a Reader’s Digest biosketch. Bill joined the US Army (Corps of Engineers) from 1957 to 1960, and then went to work for Chrysler building Plymouths and Dodges in Newark, Delaware. After two years with Chrysler it was back to Bloomsburg and a job with the local Harley-Davidson dealer.
Parts is parts. Keep what you like, sell the rest. That’s a gold-plated Knucklehead engine on the right. As in real gold. “Never could sell it,” Bill said. There was no regret in that observation.
Harley and Bloomsburg Harley were a good deal; Bill went to Harley-Davidson’s motorcycle technician school in 1966. Yep, he’s a factory-certified motorcycle tech. He worked for Bloomsburg Harley from 1966 to 1969.
Ah, 1969. Let’s see…Hollywood was going ga ga over The Wild Angels, Easy Riders, and other miscellaneous motorcycle movie mayhem. The chopper craze was sweeping through America and the rest of the developed world. Bill wanted a chopper, and a builder in Westminster, California advertised that if you had five old hogs to trade, they would build a California custom for you at no charge. Bill asked if he sent 18 old hogs, would they build him a California chopper and return some cash? The answer, of course, was yes, so Bill shipped 18 old Harleys to California and waited. And waited. And waited. He finally went to California to see what was happening and found a rundown chopper shop big on dreams but short on ability.
Bill hung around California for 60 days, bought a pickup truck, and took a partially crafted California chopper back to Pennsylvania. “I figured if those clowns could make custom motorcycles, I could, too,” Bill explained. And he did. The bike Bill hauled back to Bloomsburg needed wiring, wheels, and more, but that was simple stuff. Bill was, after all, a factory-trained motorcycle tech.
Indeed, a Silent Gray Fellow. It’s one of many Holy Grail bikes in Bill’s Old Bike Barn.
Bill’s Custom Cycles emerged, and Bill’s talent (as a custom motorcycle builder, a collector, and a businessman) took center stage. Bill purchased his first collectible motorcycle for $20, a 1928 single-cylinder Harley-Davidson, but he quickly realized the best way to acquire collectibles and saleable parts was to buy out other motorcycle businesses and that’s what he did. When Harley Davidson entered troubled times in the early 1970s, Bill purchased the assets of 28 Harley dealerships in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Maryland, Delaware, and in an international reach, the Netherlands, Belgium, and South Africa. Bill tells of a recurring theme: A dealer would ask $600,000 for their inventory, Bill would offer a quarter of that amount, the dealer would decline the offer, and then came the call a few months later asking if Bill’s $150,000 offer was still good. It was, of course. Bill knew his business.
Bill loves sidecars. At one point, he bought a European dealer’s entire stock of 60 sidecars and brought them back to Pennsylvania. He sold them all quickly.Wow. Just wow. Get used to that word. You’ll use it a lot at Bill’s Old Bike Barn.Would you pay $200 for a used Panhead back in the day? Bill did. I was going to offer him what he paid, but thought better of it.
Bill’s business model was to sell the parts and complete motorcycles from his constantly growing and profitable inventory. He sold via mail order and became one of the largest sources of Harley parts and Harleyana in the world. All the while, he kept the collectible motorcycles and parts that caught his interest, and he built custom bikes.
Bill has a way with the ladies. On this road trip, we hit Gettysburg, Hershey, the Flight 93 National Memorial in Shanksville, the Jersey shore, and more. But all the girls wanted to talk about was Bill.
While acquiring the inventories of motorcycle shops and dealers going under, Bill built a massive collection of Harley signs. That lead to a lawsuit with Harley as the plaintiff and Bill in their crosshairs…Harley didn’t want anyone displaying “authorized Harley-Davidson dealer” signs if they weren’t, you know, an authorized Harley dealer. Bill eventually settled the suit by opening a second building (the origin of Bill’s Old Bike Barn) where he could display the signs but not sell Harley products. “That made the lawyers happy,” Bill explained. It was only a short walk up the hill behind Bill’s Custom Cycles, but it satisfied Harley’s legal beagles.
Bill loves motorcycle signs, so much so that Harley sued him for displaying them a few decades ago. The lawsuit was a good thing: It was the catalyst for Bill’s Old Bike Barn.
Around the same time, Bill became a Moto Guzzi dealer (one of the very first in the United States) and he still has a love for the Italian motorcycles. Moto Guzzi was just entering the United States and they approached Bill. He rented a gas station and just like that, voilà, Bill was a Moto Guzzi dealer (he held the franchise from 1970 to 1975). As Bill explains it, it was a match made in Heaven: He had no money and Moto Guzzi had almost no bikes. The bikes would come in via air one at a time to Teterboro, New Jersey (a two and a half hour road trip from Bloomsburg).
A beautiful Guzzi Ambassador. These things sound more like a Harley than a Harley did. They are beautiful motorcycles. I always wanted one.
Like many people, Bill loved the look and the sound of those early 1970s Guzzis (they sounded a lot like Harley-Davidsons, with a wonderful lopey potato potato exhaust note).
California chopper chic meets Mandello del Laurio.Paint themes that were all the rage back in the day. Think Dennis Hopper Does Italy.
As a custom bike builder Bill knew a blank palette when he saw one, and he rebuilt an early Guzzi police bike as a 1970s chopper. It’s on display in Bill’s Old Bike Barn. In fact, Bill has an entire room he calls Guzziland, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Guzziland will be the focus of a near-term future ExNotes blog.
Stay tuned, my friends. Bill’s Old Bike Barn is a fun story. I’m having a lot of fun writing it.
Miss our first installment on Bill’s Old Bike Barn? Hey, here it is:
There’s an old saying: The difference between success and failure is this: A failure is a person who stays down. A success is a person who refuses to stay down. By that measure, Milton Hershey certainly was a success. His first two attempts at candy companies did not end well. Hershey made it big on the third attempt, though, and his company became an American icon. This blog is a story about the town that bears his name and a great Pennsylvania destination: Hershey, Pennsylvania.
The man and the legend: Milton Hershey. This is a mural as you take the ride into the chocolate “factory.”
I’m not a chocoholic, but I love Hershey, Pennsylvania and the story of the Hershey company. One man had an idea about a new candy, and he worked tirelessly to build the candy company that bears his name. As he was doing so, he built a town designed to be a better place for his employees. I’d say he succeeded on all counts.
Signs lining the highway into Hershey. Note the iconic street lights.
I first visited Hershey back in the 1960s. My Dad was a world-class trap shooter and our traveling was nearly always related to a shoot someplace in the northeastern United States. Pennsylvania, New York, Maryland, Ohio, New Hampshire, and more. Mom, my sister, and I would visit nearby attractions, and the town of Hershey was one of them. Two things stood out in my mind: The streetlights were styled like Hershey’s kisses, and the entire town smelled like chocolate.
A sidewalk grate in Hershey.
The streetlights hadn’t changed (they were still the same Hershey’s kisses), but I was surprised when we arrived: I couldn’t smell the chocolate I remembered. My aunt lives near Hershey and she told me that changes daily. It’s a function of what the Hershey plant is doing that day, the wind, and maybe a few other factors. We missed the chocoholic aroma (which was the bad news), but it still occurs sometimes (that’s the good news). I’m guessing tighter emissions requirements might be playing a role here, too.
There are several things to see and do in Hershey, but the factory tour I remembered as a kid is no more (more on that in a second). There are things to do in Hershey, starting with just walking around the town and taking in its beauty. There are also Hershey attractions, including the Hershey Museum and the current Hershey factory tour. We hit the Hershey Museum first.
Inside the Hershey Museum. It’s a real museum (unlike the factory tour, which I’ll get to in a minute), with equipment from the early days of Milton Hershey’s work and excellent exhibits.One of the exhibit areas inside the Hershey Museum.
I had seen the large Hershey smokestacks on the way into town and I wanted to get a photo. While my wife and sister were taking in the Hershey Museum, I left a bit early and walked up the street to get a better photo of the smokestacks.
One of the better photos, I think, from our Hershey visit. The weather was perfect.
Next up was the factory tour. I thought I remembered the factory tour from my visit in the 1960s, but I either remembered it wrong or I was projecting what I wanted into a memory that had dropped a few digits over the decades. I thought we would see the actual Hershey factory. That’s what I wanted. I’m a manufacturing guy, and I’ll never pass on any opportunity to get into a manufacturing facility. But the factory tour I remembered as a kid had been replaced by a theme park ride. The Hershey factory tour involved getting into little cars that were pulled along a track and going through a dumbed-down Disney-like version of what the real factory looks like. I suppose Hershey has to protect its proprietary process technology, but still, I was hoping for an engineering text and what I got was a Saturday morning cartoon.
Upon entering the factory tour building, you have to first go through what has to be the world’s largest candy store. And yeah, we bought some candy. It’s not like we needed it. But we were there. When in Rome…you know the rest.
If you have a sweet tooth, Hershey’s candy store is the place you want to be.At the entrance to the Hershey factory tour.You go through the Hershey factory tour on an amusement park like ride in these little cars. It was fun.Modern manufacturing methods, dumbed down to the lowest common denominator. Still, it was fun.
Not surprisingly, after you exit the factory tour little cars, you go through the candy store again. Wow, there sure was a lot of candy. I saw varieties of currently-available Hershey’s candies I’d never seen before. It was not a total bust: I had my Nikon and the displays were more than colorful.
It all looks good. I was mentally converting each treat to time on the treadmill.
Hershey’s owns Reese’s. Reese was a guy who worked for Hershey, and then started his own company. Then Hershey’s bought Reese’s. There are Reeses peanut butter cups with peanut butter. There are Reese’s peanut butter cups with peanut butter and potato chips. There are Reese’s peanut butter cups with peanut butter and pretzels. There are Reese’s peanut butter cups with peanut butter and marshmallows. There are Reese’s peanut butter cups with peanut butter and, well, you get the idea.
Candy, as far as the eye can see.More candy. More calories.And more. More calories. More mandatory time on the treadmill.
You might be surprised to hear this, but I gained a few pounds on this trip. As soon as I finish this blog, I’m headed to the gym where I’ll spend quality time on the treadmill. I need it.
The best kept secret in Hershey? For starters, there are Pennsylvania’s back roads. If you get off the freeways, just about any country road makes for a magnificent ride. I rode many of these roads more than 50 years ago when I was stationed at Indiantown Gap Military Reservation, which is not too far away from Hershey. I rode a 750 Honda Four in those days, and the roads are as magnificent today as they were then. Folks, let me tell you: Pennsylvania is a motorcycling paradise.
Here’s another hidden gem: If you want a world-class dinner (I’m talking fine dining raised to an exponent), there’s a restaurant called “What If” tucked away in Hershey. It’s in the basement of a Howard Johnson motel, and if you don’t look for it, you won’t see it. Trust me, it’s awesome. I didn’t grab any food photos and that’s okay: It’s my excuse for making plans to return some day. But that’s in the future. For now, it’s more time on the treadmill, and lots of it.
Stop what you’re doing. Get off the Internet (and for sure, get off Facebook and the other moronic “social media” time wasters). Start planning a trip to Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania. You need to see Bill’s Old Bike Barn. The riding is fabulous in rural Pennsylvania and with Bill’s as a destination, the ride is even better. You can thank me now or you can thank me later, but you will thank me.
Any motorcycle museum that includes in its directions “turn where you see the dinosaurs” should grab your attention. In the case of Bill’s Old Bike Barn, your undivided attention is warranted. To say I was blown away would be an understatement of immense proportions. To cut to the chase, I’ve never seen anything like Bill’s, and I know for damn sure I’ve never met a man like Bill. That’s Bill artistically framed by Milwaukee iron in the photo above, and yeah, I shot that picture. I’m proud of it. It hints at the dimensions of the man and what he’s created out there in Pennsylvania.
During our interview I asked Bill his last name and he told me: Morris, just like the cigarettes. I didn’t get it until later, and then I couldn’t stop laughing. If you don’t get it immediately, you will. Bill has that kind of slingshot wit. I love the guy and his collection. You will, too.
Above all else, Bill is two things: A collector, and a people person. The extent if his collection…well, I can’t describe it. You need to see it. You’ll get just a hint here in the ExNotes series of blogs we’re doing. When you visit the place, you’ll feel like you owe me. When you meet Bill, you’ll know you’ve made a friend. A most interesting friend.
Up above, that’s the building that houses Bill’s collection. You can’t really see it from the highway. You have to look for the dinosaurs (just like the directions say), turn, and then head uphill. You’ll go by the bison, some other cool items, and more. The building looks deceptively small from the outside. Inside…you could spend weeks and not see all of what’s in there.
You can learn about Bill’s Old Bike Barn on his website, but we’re going to give you more here on ExNotes. We’re going to do it over the span of several blogs over the next few weeks, and in an upcoming article in a major moto mag. Ever watched and enjoyed American Pickers? Trust me on this (and trust me on everything else, for that matter): Bill Morris puts American Pickers to shame. You and I have never seen anything like what’s in Bill’s Old Bike Barn.
I’m excited about what I’ve seen and what I’m going to be sharing with you. I’ll do my best to bring it to life in print and in the photos, but it won’t be enough. You really need to visit Bill’s Old Bike Barn.
New Hope, Pennsylvania, from the iron bridge over the Delaware River. George Washington crossed the Delaware just a few miles from here.
Motorcycle Classics published my latest Destinations piece, this time on New Hope, Pennsylvania. New Hope is a great destination in an historic place, and it’s a ride I used to do regularly back in the early ’70s on my CB750 Honda. Good times, those were. I recently made the trek again to write the story for MC, and the ride to New Hope through New Jersey’s rolling farmlands is as good as it ever was. It’s a good read, and Motorcycle Classics is a great magazine.
I’ve been writing for Motorcycle Classics for 10 years now, and if you’d like to see the complete collection, here you go! Joe Gresh, who is a much better writer than me, has been similarly widely published in Motorcyclist and other magazines, and if you would like to visit the grotto of great Gresh literature, here it is!
