Source: Rider Magazine –
[[{“value”:”Riding BMW’s R 18 Transcontinental on this Pennsylvania motorcycle ride was a world away from the first bike I owned, a Kawasaki Ninja 750 (below). My choice to ride for a living worried and impressed my father in equal measure. (Photos by the author)
I’ve ridden Pennsylvania many times, and always in the presence of ghosts. Back in the early 1700s, my father’s family came from England to settle in the Keystone State. It wasn’t an easy life. The men in the family fought in the Revolutionary War and then the Civil War. And before my dad was born, his own father, a marine, fought in France during World War I.
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Like so many veterans, my grandfather returned broken, and after a long struggle he died by his own hand. Just a few years later, on my father’s 16th birthday, his mother was taken by cancer.
My father and I with my first bike: a Kawasaki Ninja 750
More than once, I’d rolled up to the modest brick duplex where my father spent his early years. I’d hoped to see him there as a child, happy, before the hardening of loss left him so guarded. I’d ridden by his elementary school and a playground he’d talked about in old age. To me, it only felt somber. More like a visit to one of the state’s famous battlefields than a child’s happy place.
A tidy Amish farm.
There was one spot I had yet to try, an area called the Allegheny Plateau where my father had spent time camping as a boy, specifically in the hills south of Coudersport. Also known as the Pennsylvania Wilds, this region covers the north-central part of the state. My ride for the journey would be a luxurious BMW R 18 Transcontinental. Plenty of room to pack clothes, gear, camping equipment, and the heaviest of baggage: expectations.
The Starrucca Viaduct.
Grit and Grandeur | Pennsylvania Motorcycle Ride
I drop into Pennsylvania from the north via State Route 92, a quiet two-lane that sweeps along with the flow of the Susquehanna, which at 444 miles is the longest river in the eastern U.S., yet this midsummer it’s slow moving and choked with beautiful water lilies.
In Lanesboro I seek out the Starrucca Viaduct, a still-in-use Romanesque stone rail bridge that towers over the landscape for two-tenths of a mile. These are the strong shapes I expect from America’s backbone states, where I know from my own family history, the people are just as stoic and hard-working as this bridge that’s been shouldering heavy freight since 1848.
The BMW’s aesthetic fit well with Pennsylvania’s iron bridges and retired fuel pumps, yet underneath the bike bristles with new technology.
I’ve been on the BMW for about two weeks now and love the plush touring amenities, but today the space behind the huge windscreen feels like a mini sweat lodge as I trace slow backroads. I pick up the pace but want to stick to the smaller roads. Near the Marie Antoinette overlook, which affords sweeping views of the Susquehanna, I turn onto PA Route 6 (U.S. Route 6), which traces its crooked finger across the northern tier of Pennsylvania. This is how you learn a place: riding the commutes, filling up at the mom-and-pop stations, and asking those guys where to eat. A spot-hitting chicken cheesesteak at The Central On 6 in Burlington proves my point.
As I arrive at the Sherwood Motel in Wellsboro, I know I’m in the right place when I see all the bikes in the parking lot. There’s a pair of Yamaha Ténérés, a Harley Ultra Glide, a Gold Wing, and a mess of plated dirtbikes. It’s obvious I’ve made it to the edge of some kind of riding paradise, and the mood at the motel is Let’s Party. During an impromptu pizza fest at the pool, I pick up some route and site recommendations that leave me feeling like a kid on Christmas Eve when I finally hit the sack.
Grand Canyon East | Pennsylvania Motorcycle Ride
The first thing I want to check out is the Pine Creek Gorge, aka Pennsylvania’s Grand Canyon. I get my first glimpse of the 47-mile-long canyon at an overlook in Colton Point State Park. It’s impressive, but what’s interesting to me is that in my father’s youth the gorge area would have been clear-cut to meet the country’s demand for lumber. It’s hard to imagine this lush landscape as the man-made desert it was just a century ago.
Most of my motorcycle riding in Pennsylvania has involved investigating battlefields and chasing family history. On this occasion I paid more attention to the fertile landscapes and the people at work and play within these scenes.
It’s here I set the BMW Motorrad Connected app, the only means of navigation on the Transcontinental, to the “winding roads” preference, with my destination as Waterville, where I know I can connect with State Route 44, a road REVER rates as Epic. I’ve had a love/hate thing with this system so far, but it’s tough to be mad when it leads me to Painter Leetonia Road, scenic and gravel, just one strand of a massive spider web of unpaved routes in this region.
See all of Rider‘s Northeast U.S. motorcycle rides here.
In the crux of a hairpin, I stop to chat with a couple on dual-sports and find out this road is part of the Pennsylvania Wilds BDR-X, which makes me laugh. The Transcontinental is about as far from an adventure bike as you can get, yet thanks to its slow steering and low center of gravity, it handles these groomed gravel roads like it was made for them. I pop back onto the pavement at Blackwell and follow State Route 414 to Upper Pine Bottom State Park.
The look of the R 18 Transcontinental’s cockpit is one part nostalgic round analog gauges, one part futuristic map screen.
Highway to the Stars | Pennsylvania Motorcycle Ride
Finally on SR-44, I sink into the BMW’s plush saddle and let it glide along as intended, feeling I’m inhabiting a kind of throne-like magic carpet. The road sweeps in step with the same Pine Creek that, for the last 350 million years, has been etching the famous gorge I viewed earlier in the day. I stop to watch folks in rafts floating beneath rusty rail bridges that fasten the green grassy shores like lacing on a corset.
It’s these relics that make me wonder if the eyes of the boy who became my father had once seen the same views. He was a Boy Scout, I know that. He loved trains and the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Did he camp in these hills? Did he road-trip here when his family was still intact? If so, I picture him in the backseat of some bubble-fendered car that would look fine next to my retro-scaped BMW.
Pennsylvania’s SR-44 is called Highway to the Stars because it lances an International Dark Sky Preserve that culminates in Cherry Springs State Park. This area within the sprawling Susquehannock State Forest is one of the best places in the eastern U.S. for stargazing, and although I’ve missed the park’s two annual star parties, I’m lucky enough to snag a campsite for the night.
As I looped-de-looped recommended roads on the Allegheny Plateau, I kept seeing signs for the Ice Mine. Was it a snow cone shop? What I found was far more refreshing.
I pitch my tent in the lawn-style area that’s not ideal for hanging out, so I decide to ride some more, heading south to the junction of SR-44 and SR-144 so I can make a loop up to Galeton, across U.S. Route 6, and back down to Cherry Springs from the top of SR-44 near Coudersport.
See all of Rider‘s touring stories here.
In the town of Germania, I see for the third time today a guy roaming around on a blue Harley Pan America with a mountain bike attached on the back. His bike is impossible to miss, and I wave dutifully, knowing my rig is likewise recognizable. I’ve lost count of the people who’ve popped a thumb my way, and I will say it is a pretty thing. In fact, this R 18 configuration is my favorite, with the stylish bags, trunk, and fairing balancing the visual heft of the outsized boxer Twin.
The way motorcycles turn complete strangers into fast friends is one of my favorite things about riding. Chatting with Brad outside the Ice Mine was a perfect example.
The Heart of an Ice Mine | Pennsylvania Motorcycle Ride
It’s National Ice Cream Day, or almost, so I decide it’s okay to have my second scoop for the day at The Brown Bull on Main Street in Galeton. I like the place immediately when I see the rack of custom kickstand pads welcoming bikers. I like it even more when the owner, Jim Bull, comes over to shoot the breeze about bikes. It’s a sweet spot where you can enjoy homestyle cooking with or without the ice cream course.
The ice mine.
I want to see Coudersport, a name my father had once mentioned, but the town’s closed off for an annual Eliot Ness Fest. Yup, that Eliot Ness, the Al Capone-chasing federal agent made so famous by The Untouchables movie and series. Evidently, he spent his last years here on the Allegheny Plateau, and that’s enough reason to throw a massive party each year. There’s also an Eliot Ness Museum in Coudersport.
Back on SR-44, I see a sign with an arrow that says Coudersport Ice Mine. I’m not sure what an “ice mine” is, but it sounds the opposite of hot, so I investigate. A steep gravel road takes me to what looks like a tiny chalet, and who’s parked there? My pal on the Pan America: “Brad Pitt without the Pitt,” I soon learn. It’s a fun chat, the kind that’s only possible between riders.
The Ice Mine, it turns out, is actually an ice cave and one of the wildest things I’ve come across in all my travels. At the chalet, you pay five bucks and are regaled with the history of the site before being led into the small stone-lined space where the ice cave is concealed. It’s staggering to feel the temperature shift from sweltering to icy cool in the single step it takes to go through the heavy door.
My favorite photo of Herbert Elvidge, a happy boy untouched by hardship.
To this day, no one fully understands why the ice wells up in the cave during the warm months then recedes when it’s cold. It couldn’t even be explained by the National Geographic Society when they studied it in the 1930s. That would have been in the days when my dad was a boy, full of energy and wonder and still safe from the tragic events that would shape his future. Had he peered into this wonderous cave, wide-eyed, as I am?
I’ll never know, of course, but I do know that for the short time I’m in the tiny, otherworldly space, I feel closer to that boy than ever before. And when I ride off into Pennsylvania’s darkest space, I am aglow with love for the man he became.
Pennsylvania Motorcycle Ride Resources
Pennsylvania Tourism
Pennsylvania Wilds
PA Route 6 (U.S. 6)
PA Wilds BDR-X
Wellsboro, PA
Sherwood Motel (Wellsboro)
Colton Springs State Park (PA Grand Canyon)
Cherry Springs State Park
The Brown Bull
Coudersport, PA
Eliot Ness Fest (Coudersport)
Eliot Ness Museum (Coudersport)
Jamie Elvidge has been a motorcycle journalist since beginning her career at Rider in 1986. In addition to testing the entire range of bikes for the major print magazines, she specializes in travel stories, receiving two prestigious Lowell Thomas Society of American Travel Writers Awards along the way.
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