Highway 50 2017
  
 

Day 03

June 18

  
     
   
  Since we know what the day brings, we are both up at O Dark Thirty and hit the road.  
   
  There ain't much going on as we leave Salisbury and head for Ocean City where Highway 50 'officially' starts.  
   
  I've been here before, courtesy of Tom and I know there is no good place to park for a picture. But fortunately our plan is a WAD (working as designed), so I get the picture I want without becoming a hood ornament. Now it's only 3,073 miles til I get the picture on the other end.  
   
  With that bit of business taken care of, it's good-bye Ocean City and welcome to the Main Street Of America - Highway 50.  
   
  It's a surprisingly pleasant run through the woods as we make our way northward and then westward.  
   
  We are on the Mother Road for sure now. If the United States was a man's torso, Highway 50 would be the belt. It goes right through the heart of the country and is still pretty much intact as a route, unlike Route 66 that is so romanticized but there is so little left of it.  
   
  As the sun comes up, it looks like just another wonderful day on the road of life.  
   
  This appears to be a major farm area, as we see many old farm houses like this framed by vast fields.  
   
  But as we get closer to Washington, it appears that Andy's Cloud (at least I'm blaming it on him) is back.  
   
  Off to the right, I notice an old bridge that was put to good use as a fishing pier for those that enjoy it.  
   
  As we continue, I am surprised at the amount of farming in the area.  
   
  I scratch my head over this field as I can't tell if it is wheat straw or regular wheat. I would think regular wheat would not do well in this climate due to the dampness.  
   
  Passing over many bodies of water, I see one interesting bridge ...  
   
  after another. This one reminds a little bit of the Golden Gate Bridge that I will visit toward the end of this ride.  
   
  On the outskirts of Washington, DC I see what appears to be a good waste of taxpayers' money masquerading as art.  
   
  Highway 50 runs right through the heart of Washington, DC as a tree lined boulevard right past these lovely row houses. I don't even want to contemplate what the rent or purchase price would be for one of these units.  
   
  As we ride past various stately buildings I find myself wishing that our politicians were half as stately as their surroundings.  
   
  Off to the left, the Washington Monument rises up to greet us.  
   
  And as I look up, I see an airplane making its way to its destination. When you think about it, we are all travelers to somewhere - we just each take a different conveyance.  
   
  Now that we are past the Washington, DC traffic it's time for breakfast. Being a fan of diners, I put on the binders and whip it in when I see this sign.  
   
  They have several nice antique vehicles sitting on display like this old Corvair ...  
   
  to a rare Dodge truck ...  
   
  to a bare bones Ford truck not quite completed.  
  But inside is the real deal for breakfast for me - pig meat and hen fruit.  
   
  And after the battle, we have taken the field and won the victory!  
   
  But soon we need to get back to the road killing, so we're off. Highway 50 at this point is a lovely two lane that flows up and down the hillsides of Virginia.  
   
  In this particular area, there are numerous stone houses that appear to be constructed of local stone.  
   
  They all vary in style and shape, but they all seem to have been constructed from the same material.  
   
  At this stone farm house, even the outbuildings and the fence appear to be constructed of the same stone. .  
   
  It's a lovely ride as in some parts you are in a leafy green tunnel where the trees kiss each other over the road.  
   
  In other sections, Highway 50 is an open road 4 lane running through the green countryside.  
   
 

We arrive in Winchester Virginia at the Super 8. I purposefully made this a short day as I did not know how long it would take us to get through Washington, DC. We are way early and the young feller behind the counter does not quite know what to do with us. I tell him -

"Just give me the wifi password and we'll just chill here in the lobby until the rooms are ready."

That gives him some relief, so Andy and I just sit around for a little while catching up electronically with our worlds. Pretty soon a senior manager comes in, gets some stuff sorted out and we are in our room.

  
   
  Supper options are bit of a walk, so this place wins the competition for being the closest.  
   
  It's got a good deli, but when I get my sandwich, chips, water and cookie, the tab is $18. It's good sandwich, but it ain't that good! But such is the price you pay for convenience I guess.  
   
 

Tomorrow is a big day at over 500 miles to cover. The wear and tear of piloting the Ducati over these kind of distances is taking it's toll on Andy physically. We talk about how many days he has left in him. Knowing that the next few days will be as long or longer than tomorrow, I tell him -

"Andy, Seymour our destination tomorrow is only 230 miles from Nashville and right on I65. If you are going to head south back to the house, that would be the place to do it. The next night will be past Kansas City which is a long ride back."

Andy and I have been friends a long time and the last thing I want to see is him hurt or injured from a ride together. He decides he'll sleep on it and we'll figure it out as the day proceeds. Knowing we have to make our way through Cincinnati which may be painful, I hit the pillow hard and it knocks me out to slumberland.