Cape Charles, VA. 11,649 Miles.

Not needing to spend any more time in the truckstop, I left Kingsland very early and set out on a very long and fast run across I-95 through the southern coast. I didn’t have much on m y agenda except making time and before noon I had already racked up over 300 miles. I decided that every mile I could ride today would be a mile I wouldn’t have to ride in post-holiday traffic into New York tomorrow so I set my sights on a record for the trip. Again, thank god for audio books or this would have been a mind killer. I-95 is not a scenic route by any stretch of the imagination.

So I burnt through state after state, avoiding idiotic interstate drivers (seriously, Florida, what is wrong with every one of you?) and finally found myself in Virginia. Not expecting to get this far in the day I wasn’t sure where to stay for the night. I had assumed I would just duck off the interstate into a crap chain motel but I had made such good time that I could take a minute to plan something a bit better.

I crossed the Cheapeake Bay Bridge in late afternoon. After what seemed like an endless parade of long bridges in Florida, this one takes the prize. Over 25 miles with two underwater tunnels and a few ship paths in between, it was an insane rollercoaster and engineering marvel. It was exactly what I needed after two days on the interstate and it dropped me into the north bay region of Virginia which is absolutely beautiful. Being the 4th of July, every motel room was booked everywhere and if it wasn’t then it cost a fortune. But after a little digging I found a place about 10 miles south of Cape Charles right on the bay beach with a free room that wasn’t painfully expensive. It was in the middle of the Kiptopeke State Park, but it had a small beachfront bar and restaurant and when I arrived they told me that you could see the fireworks from Norfolk and Cape Charles, so I unloaded the bike and headed for the beach.

I really didn’t think there was such a beautiful beach just 300 miles from NYC. Maybe I was just feeling a bit sentimental what with it being the last night of the trip and all, but the Chesapeake is wide enough to give the impression you’re seeing the sunset over the ocean and it was the best I’ve seen in the last month. I sat on the beach and ate steamed shrimp and drank beer while the sun painted the clouds and then watched the dual firework display on either side of the bay. After a month of riding every back road this country could throw at me and seeing all it has to offer I was in a particularly patriotic mood. We have our problems, of course, but I’ll put this country up against anyone in terms of sheer natural beauty and diversity.

And so tomorrow is finally it. The home stretch. Just over 300 miles, I plan to take a leisurely morning with a long ride across the Cape May Ferry and hope to beat the holiday traffic back into the city by mid afternoon. It feels beyond surreal to think I will be in my own bed tomorrow and I don’t know how to process it quite yet. I have been away from home for long stretches before but this is something different. I can feel my muscles preparing for the transition. Even the bike feels a bit anxious. She kicks a bit. It’s nothing mechanical but I just sense a hesitation that I can understand. We’re both tired and maybe a little nervous about getting back to something that seems so familiar but so alien now. That and she probably needs her cams adjusted and some new oil but allow me to be sentimental for a moment. I’m sure I will still be waking up at 5:30 for weeks, lurching up in bed, readying to pack the bags and thinking of where the next gas station is. But there will be time for all of that reflection later. One last night in a motel room and then back home.

Wyatt Neumann was a phenomenally talented photographer and director, a loving husband and father, and a passionate motorcyclist. On June 11th he was doing what he loved riding in Delaware when he suffered a brain aneurysm which caused him to lose control of his motorcycle. He died shortly after. Wyatt was instrumental in both inspiring this trip and planning many of its routes and logistics. The title of this site was unapologetically stolen from his series of photographs from his own travels. He leaves behind a wife and two young children. A memorial fund has been established to help his family in this very trying time. Please consider donating. Any amount will help. Thank you.

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