Philadelphia, PA: Duck Tacos at Bridget Foy's
Cebebral introspection at 70 MPH along the winding back roads of America was also my inspiration to launch Motorcycle Philosophy several years ago. While many philosophers might perch themselves on a boulder high up in the mountains with a thermos bottle of Sumatra Extra Gold, I prefer to subject my analytic mind to the laws of thrust and centrifugal forces seeing what nuggets of wisdom might result.
So I contacted Bud about doing a get together, just to put our collective thoughts together and see what kind of intellectual collaboration might come about as it pertains to horse power and long lonely highways. The agreed on setting was Bridget Foy's, a modernesque Americana pub in the South Street District of Philadelphia, known for progressing old pub standbys into the realm of the eclectic. The perfect place to knock our noodles together over pints of IPA.
But first, Sash and I had to navigate the "horror" that is New Jersey traffic.
The distance to Bridget Foy's from our hotel in East Brunswick, NJ was only 60 miles. I figured it'd just be an hour's ride.
It was more like 2 1/2 hours.
George Ferreira, a fellow motorcycle blogger, warned Sash and I never to take the New Jersey Turnpike, but somehow we decided to take it, and I guess we should have listened. For some reason, everyone in Jersey wants to take the Turnpike, which only makes them late to their destination, and they have to pay at the toll booth for the privilege.
Half way down the Turnpike, we turned off and took the I-195 to the I-295. Those freeways were largely wide open but for a spattering of cagers. I was zipping in and out of cars at 85-90 MPH, trying to make up for lost time.
Except in my rear view mirror I saw red & blue flashing lights way back aways. He was a in a cruiser.
"Oh shit", I thought to myself. This is just what I didn't need, some custard sucking local yokel looking to extort several hundred dollars out of a California tourist. I'm sure if he pulled me over, he'd have fun with me.
I checked my mirror to see if he was going to pull someone else over, but he wasn't. He was right in my lane, gaining ground on me.
I spotted an off-ramp and decided to make a break for it. I leaned it hard going 55 MPH on a 25 MPH curve, and then hauled ass down the avenue, taking immediate right and left turns until I found a business park, taking cover under a shady tree. I never saw the cop.
"Whew!" I sighed out loud to Sash, who was riding bitch that day. "I think I lost him!"
We spent a few more minutes looking at Google Maps to plot my course into Philadelphia, and then took off.
Turns out Bridget Foy's is right in the heart of a very touristy shopping district in a historic-looking area of South St. We found Bud and his girlfriend Cori draining a pitcher of mimosa, patiently waiting for our arrival.
Turns out Bud has been working as a blogger for RoadRUNNER Magazine, a print publication for motorcycle touring and travel. But he recently promoted up to a column in the print edition, writing about his favorite subject, motorcycles and philosophy. Earning a living as a writer to feed his motorcycle riding addiction has been his dream, and it seems he's on track to getting there.
Cori is a nurse working at a hospital in Newark, DE. It turns out that Bud is rather quiet and thoughtful, while Cori is more outwardly and passionate. The two are quite the cute couple, very fun loving, and easy going. I couldn't help but see similarities in Sash and I.
Both Bud and I had the Duck Tacos, which are his favorite there. I have to say, compared to the Duck Tacos I had at Shorebilly Brewing in Ocean City, MD, these are way better. Ask for a bottle of Sriracha Sauce, and really light yourself on fire.
After a couple hours spent at Bridget Foy's, we all walked up South Street, stopping in a Buddhist store called, "Garland of Letters", where Cori bought some incense and Sash bought some rocks. Then we went next door to "Erogenous Zone" because Sash was looking for something more risque to ride with. She bought a red tutu.
Then it was on to Lickety Split, a bar where we had more drinks.
At the end of the day, Sash and I felt like we really clicked with Bud and Cori, and hope to see them again soon, either on the West Coast or back East.
On the way back to our hotel in East Brunswick, NJ, we decided to play it smart and just avoid the New Jersey Turnpike, taking the I-295 to the US-1. It seems to get us to back much more quickly, and without tolls.
I guess I don't understand why New Jersey drivers would prefer to pay money to arrive late.
 |
| Trying to get away from the State Trooper |
 |
| Sash riding bitch today |
 |
| Duck Tacos with an IPA |
 |
| The four of us at Bridget Foy's |
 |
| Sash having a Sashtasic time in Philadelphia |
 |
| Seems like every big city as a guy eating pizza in an alley. |
 |
| In Philadelphia it costs you $5.00 to buy a beer, and $5.00 to return it. |
 |
| Cori and Sash having a great time |
 |
| Meanwhile Highway and Bud are more relaxed |
 |
| It's best to obey the cops, unless you have faster wheels |
 |
| Riding through the streets of Philadelphia |
 |
| The setting sun cast a shadow of us on the I-95 freeway in Philly |
 |
| The view from Betsy Ross Bridge |
 |
| A sunset over New Jersey |
 |
| Sash and Highway, the RoadPickle riders |
 |
| Highway along US-1 in New Jersey |
Sounds like you had a great time in Philly. Glad you escaped the long arm of Johnny Law. Ride safe! ~Curt
ReplyDeleteI warned you, if you had taken the Turnpike on the way home it would have been 3 hours. Looks like it was fun, I have never been in that area.
ReplyDelete