Life Behind Bars
When the notion grabbed them to hit the road, what should they do? Why, jump on their Harleys and ride more than nine thousand five hundred miles in forty days, from one end of the country to the other… and back. That’s what Bryan Hall and his friend, Mike, did. Bryan’s knack for a turn of phrase puts the reader right there in the seat with them during their amazing journey. More
Bryan Hall had a nagging thought that just wouldn’t let go. The only way to scratch the itch that the idea left him with was for him to pack up his Harley—his scoot—and ride it more than 9,500 miles in 40 days.
From the Pacific Ocean in the Seattle area to the Atlantic Ocean, and back, the author and his buddy, Mike, rode their bikes through searing heat, oppressive humidity, bone-chilling cold, pouring rain and, often, truly beautiful, perfect weather.
Outbound, they followed the cross-country Highway 50, which began with a sign in Sacramento, California, that read, “Ocean City, Maryland, 3,073 miles,” and ended in Maryland with a sign that read, “Sacramento, California, 3,073 miles.”
They came home by way of the Blue Ridge Parkway, Niagara Falls, the Great Lakes, and then US Highway 2 across the top of the United States.
Bryan’s story was not meant to be a travelogue. It’s really more of a diary of their trip. The author truly engages the reader with his comments on where to eat and at what motels to stay —or where not to eat or stay —in the twenty-seven states and one Canadian province they drove through. Contrary to what one might think of any two people on the road, Bryan and Mike eschewed typical chain fast-food restaurants, and sought out the best local home-style eateries—the “Mom and Pops,” as they called them.
all of the restaurants or motels that they ended up at were the best, however. His reviews of some of these places were not only instructive, but were also hilarious, and disarmingly honest—as were his descriptions of some of the locales they drove through. Fair warning to North Dakotians, as the author called them.
The author was fond of saying, “There are simply no words adequate to convey how gorgeous this ride is.” The reader is lucky, indeed, that Bryan found the words—words that wax almost poetic in their simple beauty of expression for the scenery that these two Harley riders beheld while living their lives behind bars.
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