riding R 1200 GSs and were on their way to St. Louis. They were cruising faster than I wanted to push the Baby Brick. Anyway, riding at speed at night on unfenced rural roads is not my thing. The next day I pushed on through the
“villes:” Bellville. Marysville and Baileyville. This was the route of the original Pony Express and was officially the Pony Express Highway. I was finally getting used to the idea that the same road could have two or sometimes three or even four names. Monroe City was a disappointment. No
statue of Marilyn – not even a bust. Beyond the Kansas-Missouri border, US
36 became a dual carriage road. It no longer went through towns, but bypassed them on the outskirts. The area now showed signs of wealth, but not the white picket fences I was looking for.
St. Louis At Hannibal I left US 36 to follow the Mis- sissippi River south to Ellisville. I wanted to see where my money had been going for 20 years. The freeway was not very inspiring,
A staircase to nowhere.
so occasionally I would wander into a side road and discover a haven of tranquility like architect-designed homes round a lovely lake with a sign reading “For residents only,” places not unlike Dobbs Mill in “House Sitter,” but without Goldie Hawn. The BMW MOA HQ was easy to find.
Those who were at home base this Monday afternoon were hard at work and did not have time to roll out the red carpet for an unannounced visitor from South Africa. It is reassuring to know the place really exists and there are real people working there. From St. Louis I took Route 66 north for
a while. I must have missed the exciting parts, because to me it was just a rural road running parallel to the interstate and often disappearing altogether. There was little traffic, and at one point I stopped on the verge of the road to watch a crop duster fly a tight pattern aver a field. The pilot must have seen me and came flying directly towards me. For a moment I was Cary Grant in North by Northwest. Then he pulled up and peeled off to the left. Route 66 became just an ordinary road again.
Eventually I got back onto US 36. The
road went through half-overgrown villages again, but here the grass was greener, hiding the odd abandoned motel and gas station. The thing that struck me was that the parks and graveyards along the route - and there were many - were all well maintained. I usually bought some fruit and nuts for lunch and sometimes had it sitting in the shade in a graveyard. One can get to know some very interesting people in a graveyard – and not all of them dead. Just before Indianapolis I turned north,
rode to Michigan and parked the Baby Brick in a friend’s basement. In September I will return, reconnect the battery and see if I can find more of the USA as it used to be.
You meet the nicest people The narrower the road, the nicer the peo- ple. My credit card would not work for put- ting in gas - something about my postal code having only four digits. So from Cali- fornia to Colorado, I would have to pre-pay for gas and fetch my change after filling up. Once I was on US 36, things were different.
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BMW OWNERS NEWS September 2015
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