I pulled over for the sign...







and returned from confusion. The sign says Sagamore, or so I thought. A friend pointed out that maybe it was an N instead of an M. It's both. What was once the Sagamore turned into the Sagano but is now called the Sunset Motel by the woman inside. I tried to ask her a few questions about the history but she wasn't talking. It was cold in the office and after a minute of her blankly staring at me, she wrapped her jacket tight, waved me off and returned to the other room. The door closed tight leaving me standing there on the other side of the bullet proof-ish plexiglass, alone. I was the least of her worries. Too bad as I had a whole story ready in my head to see a room but she wasn't having any part of that. Next time.

effortless.

Found.

Leaving Rockaway, July 2011

One of my favorite parts of riding a bike in NYC is finding things that most pass so quickly they aren't sure what they saw. I stop. Pull over. Take a pic. Ride on. Love it!

Flatbush Special.

Signs, signs, everywhere signs....





My roadtrip down south was an adventure that I will decipher for months to come, filled with ideas and signage I could not pass up. Obviously BP was on my mind and the independent owners were out to make their point. I've had an issue with the protest of the BP gas stations since this began... the renters of the BP logo aren't the problem, they are just pawns in this game. I've said this before, so let me say it again: protest BP's oil by not buying water bottles. By riding a bike. Walk. Be conscious of what you buy and what you throw away. It's not just what goes in your car, it's our future. sigh...

Back to the signage... I wish I would have stopped for every sign along the road. I must have laughed about the beer sign in Savannah for days, and how often do you see "playboy" and "quality" in the same sentence? Thank you for the smiles.

US Route 231