Motorcycle Miles 7: Port Bruce at its Best

Cool, Inside Out and Backwards

["I pulled over on a busy stretch in order to see where I'd been"]

"Where I'd been": I passed through Belmont, home to a significant water tower, motorcycle shop, The (world-famous) Town Restaurant, my favourite house (with significant front porch and old barn) and an antique Case tractor.

"I pulled over": Two miles south of Belmont at the top of the highest gentle incline in the area. I was surrounded by oceans of green soy and corn and stood under crisp blue skies. For a second I trusted that one second was all I would need to catch a photo from the centre of the nearest lane.

A safer spot for roadside photos

As I continued south through Mapleton, I planned my second stop. Bridge 1984.

"It's not too far," I said to myself. "And I haven't snuck up on Mr. Snap for quite a while."

 Dead centre. I think he's there!! Zoom in. Zoom in!

That's Mr. Snap's nose, alright.

That cagey old snapper may have heard me coming, but because my last visit was weeks and weeks before, he likely hung around just long enough to taunt me with a shadow of his presence. No sooner had I snapped the second shot, he submerged like a wary submariner. I waited 15 - 20 minutes to get a third photo but he never reappeared. Oh, he's cagey, that boy.

As I rounded my last curve before dropping down into Port Bruce proper, I felt the moderating affect of Lake Erie on the temperature. Cool. I downshifted to reduce the speed of my bike, and thereby moderated the moderating affect. I smelled French fries from The Sand Castle diner as I passed it and studied the sky and calming colours of the Great Lake. 

"I could live here," I thought. "Maybe, someday."

 My first photo after parking the Yamaha.

My last photo before leaving Port Bruce, sans Key Lime ice cream.

I only noticed the aforementioned antique as I passed through Belmont on the way home. 

Now, Case and I go a long way back. But that story's for another day.

"Are your brakes still working?" I wondered.

Between Belmont and Nilestown the rhythm of the motor resonated in time with the passing flashes of paint down the centre of the highway and my mind conjured a new song, with Pink Floydian melodies - 

Oceans of green

under big skies

Perfect marvels

for seeking eyes... 

Please link to Motorcycle Miles 6: Birds and Boats in Port Burwell.

Photos GH