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I decided to take the BMW for this trip. No miles of sitting on a thumping single cylinder this time. I was going to sit in luxary on my massive 1150 while Dan puttered along on his KLR 650. The day was beautiful: sunny, crisp and dry. We left the house a little after 9am and after a brief stint on I-80 I lead Dan on some Northwest New Jersey backroads. They would have been a lot more enjoyable if they weren't clogged with tiny little towns every 15 miles. But the tiny little towns had some charm to them and some of them even looked interesting enough to want to stop and wander around. But we didn't. We kept going until we got to Dingman's Ferry, which is no longer a ferry but a bridge across the Delaware River midway through the Delaware Water Gap National Rec. Area. From there we were to meander north and west along Route 6, a notably beautiful and desolate ribbon of pavement that crosses along the top of Pennsylvania. We didn't last very long on Route 6. Apparently it doesn't get "beautiful" or "desolate" until much futher west than we were, and instead we were once again slugging our way through small town after small town.

My poor navigational skills kept us on Route 6 longer than I had intended, having missed the turn for an alternative route near Carbondale, PA. So instead of pictureque two lane roads, we found ourselves on a very fast and very wide highway, heading to Scranton, PA. Ashort stop in Clarks Summit to refuel our bikes and get a bite to eat and then we got back on track. Route 6 (for a short length) and then at Mehoopany we ducked off onto a side road (Rt 87). What a great choice! We enjoyed lots of forested glens, green rolling farmlands and almost no traffic. Miles and smiles later, we had to backtrack slightly for another route, Rt 154, that would take us on another leg of fun riding. There were still small towns, but with none of the traffic and all of the charm.

By now most of the day had passed and we were only halfway to our destination. A decision was made to follow the GPS and go directly to the hotel in Clearfield. Dan, having possession of the GPS on his bike, won the right to lead (something he's not fond of doing). So off we went, down a wonderfully green and agricultural valley to Williamsport, and that's where I lost track of where we were on the paper map I had tucked into my tank bag. I was impressed at the route that the GPS was taking us, avoiding I-80 (which I felt we were doomed to ride on at some point) and following the older roads along a nice stream; a stream which seemed to have more fishermen lining its banks than fish in the water itself. Apparently fishing season was open.

I tried to match up road signs with my map but to no avail. At least not until we came to Tipton. I found I-99 and Tipton and they were no where near our destination. In fact, we had long ago passed the turnoff to head west to Clearfield. I darted ahead of Dan and took the next exit. I explained the situation and he said that he must have the "wrong" Clearfield in his GPS. Yes, he had "Clearfield Twp", not "Clearfield". He made the correction, but by then I had found a nice route on my map that would get us to Clearfield within 45 minutes. We climbed a chilly summit and dropped down into a valley just in time for the rain to begin in earnest. The clouds had been gathering since Williamsport and we hoped to reach the hotel before the rains hit. And while we weren't entirely successful, the rain was light and intermittent enough that the roads stayed dry for the rest of the day's ride.

We found our way to our motel in Clearfield, hooked up with our STN friends and had an enjoyable evening together. After a good night's sleep we woke to wet roads. "Bibilical rains" had been forecasted for the day, including thunder, lightning and hail. I was hoping to do some more exploration on the way home, but if this was to be the day's forecast I'd skip that part and just ride directly home with Dan. But regardless of the weather we had a detour to make: our friends happened to be in State College, PA for a big game and were less than an hour away, somewhat on the way home.

Dan led us (correctly, this time) to downtown State College where we eventually managed to find our friends. The game had made the town a complete zoo with every person wearing Penn State gear including infants in stollers. After a quick but tasty breakfast we bid them adieu and got back on our bikes. Dan surprised me by following Route 45 through some really beautiful countryside. The weather was holding back for us and our ride was comfortably dry and temperate.

We eventually met up with I-80 and blasted our way home. The storms never caught up to us and apparently missed northern New Jersey entirely. I admit I was a little disappointed, even though my new gear isn't entirely waterproof. I like the challenge of riding through inclement weather, at least when it is my choice.