POCONOS MOUNTAINS

ROUTE 209: APRIL 8
Nature is what the US does best. They possess a vast quantity: desert, plains, mountains, take your pick. I have ridden the Natchez Trail and the Blue Ridge Parkway. Now for the Poconos Mountains. Route 209 follows the Delaware, one more name conjuring a romantic view of history.
I leave Stroudsburg under an overcast sky. Cold? Bitterly cold. I stop at Wal-Mart and buy an outsize pair of ski gloves to wear over my other gloves. The gloves keep my hands warm for a few kilometers.

A PERFECT RIDE

NATCHEZ TRAIL: MARCH 26
Trucks and commercial vehicles are banned from the Natchez trail. Speed limit is 50 mph: perfection for the small Honda. The countryside unrolls, meadows glimpsed through the naked trees, a herd of our native Hereford cattle - White Faces Americans call them. Azaleas and rhododendrons remain in bud but the yellows and blues and mauve of wild flowers sprinkle the grass. I am well muffled and sunshine offsets the Spring chill.
I pull into a lay-by and chat for a few minutes with a clean-shaved thirties on a gleaming blue 650 Suzuki.
Bikers are a community in the US. Every passing biker extends a hand as they pass.
What a magnificent ride! What joy it would be to ride it in summer shirt-sleaves.
The trail ends and I head into Nashville...

FORGET BREAKFAST

NATCHEZ TRAIL: MARCH 26
A white-tail stag bolts across the road. The road follows the wooded shores of a reservoir. The reservoir would dwarf any lake in Europe. A spur leads to a boat ramp and general store with a couple of gas pumps. A dozen vehicles with boat trailers line one side of the car park.
I pay $6 for gas. The store keeper left his smile in the bedside locker. Perhaps he has tooth-ache or had a fight with his wife.
Two men arrive in a pick-up and scoop minnows out of a tank for sale at the store.
I report seeing the eagle.
I am lucky. Eagles are increasingly rare.
I hoped for breakfast and use of the restrooms. The storekeeper has been replaced at the cash-register by an overweight wife who has forgotten to brush her hair.
The restrooms are back of an abandoned diner. Perhaps the diner isn't abandoned. Possibly it merely looks that way. Breakfast can wait. I remount, ride a while, irrigate a conifer.