Day 7 - Communication Breakdown

Day 7 was to be one of our more interesting days.  A visit to Niagara Falls was planned, followed by a visit to the Anchor Inn in Buffalo, where one of God’s greatest gifts to man, the buffalo wing, was created.  Then it would be on to Utica, New York.  Interesting it certainly turned out to be.  

The group crossed Ontario with little trouble and no arrests.  Before long we came upon “The Falls.”  For those who have not had the opportunity, a visit to Niagara Falls in highly recommended, for not only can one experience “The Falls” but also “the falls,” as in “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”  More on this in a minute.  First, it must be understood that a group of eleven large loud motorcycles (one with a trailer) trying to find a parking space in a tourist area can be a bit of a challenge.  Parking near the falls was priced at $15 to $20, and since we had already made a major donation to the state of Michigan, we were more interested in preserving our funds.  RayGar solved this problem by leading us to a spot that not only accommodated the large group but was also free of parking fees.  One problem – it was approximately two kilometers away from The Falls.  As Canada is on the metric system we only knew the distance in kilometers, and judging by the length of time required to access The Falls from our parking spot, two kilometers was concluded to be approximately 13 ½ miles.  The ride across Ontario was shorter than the walk to The Falls.  After trudging back and forth, many of us having to stop for food, water and shelter multiple times along the say, we reassembled in the parking lot, most of us several pounds lighter at this point.  As we tried to replenish the oxygen and fluids in our bodies we observed an elderly lady crossing the parking lot with what appeared to be her younger family members.  This family, evidently anxious to get their hands on the imminent inheritance, had seen fit to drag Grandma to the parking lot, 13½ miles away for “some sightseeing and a nice refreshing stroll to the falls.”  As we watched, Grandma stumbled on a curb and commenced a slow motion rollover onto her back on the sidewalk.  With arms and legs flailing she looked rather like a large blue turtle attempting to right itself. 

Disillusioned family members bid the bikers an unconvincing thanks.

As the family members stood looking - apparently the countdown to riches had begun at that point – several of the bikers in the group rushed to assist her.   This may not have been a good thing.  Whether she was more frightened by the fall or by the sight of several large leather-clad, bearded bikers with chains hanging off of them is not clear, but in the end she was hoisted onto her feet and was able to proceed on her way.  Or so she was at our last sighting.   

Having spoiled the family’s plans for sudden wealth, it was time to climb back on the steel steeds and attempt to reenter the U.S.  It was at this point that we discovered that communication might not have been carried out to the degree necessary to make our trip an efficient one. Communication is important when a large group such as ours is traveling together.  What’s said is not always necessarily what is understood.  Take getting gas for example.  The group had filled the tanks of the thirsty machines prior to entering Canada on the previous day, for fuel in Canada is approximately $13½ dollars per gallon.  Or so it was rumored (Canadian money is metric too.)  However some of the group, those whose machines were a bit thirstier than others, ended up stopping just before visiting The Falls (and the falls) to add a bit of gas to their tanks, ensuring their ability to make it to the U.S. side.  The plan was to stop as soon as we got into Niagara Falls, New York, and fill back up with the much more affordable brand of fuel.   As we sat on the Rainbow Bridge awaiting reentry into the U.S. we watched the fuel gauges get lower and lower, for crossing the Rainbow Bridge is slightly less time consuming than a geriatric cricket match.  

Crossing the Rainbow Bridge at glacial speed. 

 Thanks to security concerns, entry into the U.S. at this particular border point has slowed considerably, and while we enjoyed the view of The Falls from this vantage point, even gazing at the amazing view of  The Falls can become tiresome after a point.  It took the better part of an hour for all of us to pass through, but eventually we all made it across the border.  Even RayGar made it without being subjected to abuse.  However, we decided that the visit to Buffalo and the Anchor Inn would have to be sacrificed if we were to get to Utica by midnight. With heavy hearts and growling stomachs the group set off in the direction of Rochester…..without gassing up.  It had  been asked if we were going to stop for gas, and the response was yes, of course.  This is where communication gets a bit fuzzy.  Just as the little old man in the car who leaves his left turn signal on indefinitely intends to turn left……eventually, so is the intention to stop for gas.   

A spare can of gas saves Winnie.

Some of us had failed to get the memo that the immediate stop on the U.S. side had been eliminated, and as the city of Niagara Falls gave way to farms and vast expanses of fields it occurred to some of us that the plan to fill back up on the U.S. side had been altered.  Ron was the first to fall victim.  Winnie coughed, sputtered, and fell silent as she depleted her mix of American and Canadian fuel.  

Luckily one forward thinking member of the group had a spare tank of gas, which allowed Winnie to limp to a “station.”  Station is being kind, for the small shack had but one pump, one bathroom, and very little room for eleven bikes and fourteen people.  Perhaps we had stumbled onto a clue as to why we were perpetually hours and hours behind schedule. We did, however, manage to get all of the tanks full all at the same time.

With full tanks all around we set off for Utica…..and trouble ensued.  Details won’t be portrayed here, but suffice it to say the once again communication issues resulted in some “challenges” to the group’s progress  Some memorable quotes were uttered, another delay occurred and we each learned that all people in a group of eleven bikes do not necessarily adhere to the same style of riding.  With that understanding we made our way to Utica where once again we arrived after most restaurants had stopped serving, so it was time for another parking lot session - this time without the pizza. 

Enjoying happy hour - on the sidewalks of Utica, New York.

The group was only one day from its final destination.  But reaching Maine would prove to be more challenging than expected.  More in the next edition of The Oreo Expedition……