Finding Jerusalem - A Motorcycle Adventure in Michigan
On Saturday, I set out on motorcycle to find Jerusalem.
Jerusalem Michigan, that is.
My itinerary was:
Jerusalem Michigan, that is.
My itinerary was:
From: Joliet, IL
To Concord, MI, 225 miles
To Moscow, MI, 14.8 miles
To Jackson, MI, 22.5 miles
To Jerusalem, MI, 24.7 miles
To Hell, MI, 16.5 miles
To Lansing, MI, 46.0 miles
To Charlotte, MI, 23.1 miles
To Nashville, MI, 15.8 miles
To Augusta, MI, 31.0 miles
To Hartford, MI, 46.6 miles
To Joliet, IL 135 miles
(that's about 601 miles total)
The Plan
The trip was originally planned as a solo day trip. Then a friend offered to meet me for lunch at one of the stops. I had planned to leave at 7:00AM in the hope of avoiding vacation traffic.
Bailing
Circumstances (a hard-to-find battery for my spouse's car) led me to believe I would have to visit our mechanic on Saturday, so I had canceled the ride and told my friend. I did manage to find an appropriate battery on Friday and install it that evening. But Saturday I woke up moody and grumpy and thought about not going on the trip at all.
The Prep
After eating something I started to feel a little better. I went out to the garage to look at the bike (a red 2010 Honda NT700V).
I decided against installing the Throttlemeister that had arrived the night before, but decided it wouldn't hurt to install the RAM ball in the mirror mount hole on the clutch lever assembly. How hard could that be?
I tried to get the plastic cap off the hole and succeeded in breaking the cap away from the plastic stud in the hole. I then spent about a half hour getting the plastic out of the mounting hole. Imagine how much trouble I could get in by trying to install the Throttlemeister.
I removed the U-bolt mounted RAM ball I had been using for the GPS from the left side of the handlebar:
I checked the tires and they were each a pound or two low, so I filled them up to spec.
The Decision
And I decided to go.
Of course, by now it was 9:00AM.
I headed out of the subdivision and south down the road. I knew the first two eastbound roads were treated with chipseal - a treacherous coating of oil and small gravel - for about a half mile. I avoided both, rode to the US highway and rounded the 110 degree left turn onto the curve (a dangerous intersection in itself).
I still had to pick up some water, film, and cash. The stops at the CVS and bank ate up a bit more time. I passed the state highway that used to go to the interstate (under construction now) and rode the half mile to another interstate ramp. Headed South on I55 to I-80E and was on my way... two and a half hours late.
The Ride into Michigan
The trip began with little trouble, Even the construction zones on I-80/I-294 in Illinois and I-80 in Indiana were surprisingly clear, although traffic slowed a bit in Indiana. A stop for fuel went without a hitch, and a later stop for water and ibuprofen drew interest from someone who said the NT looked like a Honda Pacific Coast.
On 94 northbound in Michigan, I saw southbound traffic backed up for a few miles behind a car fire. Traffic was completely stopped - people were getting out of their cars and walking over to others to chat. I was glad to not be in that line of vehicles.
The Brake Test
Just west of Battle Creek, I rounded a corner to find traffic completely stopped. I aimed for the space to the right of the car in front of me and braked the way they teach you in the MSF class (although they don't have you practice at 70MPH ±10MPH), keeping an eye on the car behind me that was nose-down in an attempt to stop. Both I and the driver had enough space to stop, fortunately, but I wanted to make sure I didn't end up as the meat (figuratively and literally) in a collision sandwich.
The trip was originally planned as a solo day trip. Then a friend offered to meet me for lunch at one of the stops. I had planned to leave at 7:00AM in the hope of avoiding vacation traffic.
Bailing
Circumstances (a hard-to-find battery for my spouse's car) led me to believe I would have to visit our mechanic on Saturday, so I had canceled the ride and told my friend. I did manage to find an appropriate battery on Friday and install it that evening. But Saturday I woke up moody and grumpy and thought about not going on the trip at all.
The Prep
After eating something I started to feel a little better. I went out to the garage to look at the bike (a red 2010 Honda NT700V).
I decided against installing the Throttlemeister that had arrived the night before, but decided it wouldn't hurt to install the RAM ball in the mirror mount hole on the clutch lever assembly. How hard could that be?
I tried to get the plastic cap off the hole and succeeded in breaking the cap away from the plastic stud in the hole. I then spent about a half hour getting the plastic out of the mounting hole. Imagine how much trouble I could get in by trying to install the Throttlemeister.
I removed the U-bolt mounted RAM ball I had been using for the GPS from the left side of the handlebar:
I checked the tires and they were each a pound or two low, so I filled them up to spec.
The Decision
And I decided to go.
Of course, by now it was 9:00AM.
I headed out of the subdivision and south down the road. I knew the first two eastbound roads were treated with chipseal - a treacherous coating of oil and small gravel - for about a half mile. I avoided both, rode to the US highway and rounded the 110 degree left turn onto the curve (a dangerous intersection in itself).
I still had to pick up some water, film, and cash. The stops at the CVS and bank ate up a bit more time. I passed the state highway that used to go to the interstate (under construction now) and rode the half mile to another interstate ramp. Headed South on I55 to I-80E and was on my way... two and a half hours late.
The Ride into Michigan
The trip began with little trouble, Even the construction zones on I-80/I-294 in Illinois and I-80 in Indiana were surprisingly clear, although traffic slowed a bit in Indiana. A stop for fuel went without a hitch, and a later stop for water and ibuprofen drew interest from someone who said the NT looked like a Honda Pacific Coast.
On 94 northbound in Michigan, I saw southbound traffic backed up for a few miles behind a car fire. Traffic was completely stopped - people were getting out of their cars and walking over to others to chat. I was glad to not be in that line of vehicles.
The Brake Test
Just west of Battle Creek, I rounded a corner to find traffic completely stopped. I aimed for the space to the right of the car in front of me and braked the way they teach you in the MSF class (although they don't have you practice at 70MPH ±10MPH), keeping an eye on the car behind me that was nose-down in an attempt to stop. Both I and the driver had enough space to stop, fortunately, but I wanted to make sure I didn't end up as the meat (figuratively and literally) in a collision sandwich.
So now I was sitting in traffic that varied in speed from barely fast enough to balance the bike to standing still. After about twenty minutes of this, I took the next (Capital Ave. SW) exit to try to find an alternate route.
On the motorcycle, I don't have a fancy modern GPS. I have a Garmin StreetPilot.
(It's shown here mounted in its old spot - between the handlebars - but on this trip it was mounted to the newly-installed RAM ball on the clutch lever assembly.)
This GPS doesn't have all the local roads, doesn't do route recalculation or even calculation, and has no traffic features. I could have stopped and manually loaded in a new route, but instead I decided to look at the roads it did show and wing it.
Athens Unexpected
I made my way to Michigan 66 and headed south. Luckily, this took me through Athens.
My Women on Wheels chapter has a contest that involves visiting towns with the same names as state and national capitals, so this was a welcome opportunity. Unfortunately, there was no parking in front of the post office and there was a squad car sitting just up the street, so I took a bit of an angle shot.
Hiding in Plain Sight: Concord
The ride to Concord was uneventful, but when I got there, I rode all the way down Main without seeing a post office or village hall. I took three rights around a residential block to run back up the street, but as I approached Main, I saw a couple of young men at a house with a couple of dirt bikes. I pulled up and asked "can you tell me where the Post Office is?"
"The Post Office?" one of them asked. "You mean there?" And he pointed across the street to the Post Office - on the very side street and directly opposite their home.
In Moscow, Red is for Fire Trucks
For some reason, I thought I had scheduled Hell earlier on my routes (which were programmed into the GPS). As I followed the directions, I next found myself in Moscow MI. There was a Moscow Cantina and a Moscow General Store, but they could just be names of businesses in a town of a different name - little proof that I visited the town. I thought I would have to settle for the road sign and pulled onto the gravel shoulder to take a couple of photos.
As I started to ride out of town, I found the perfect landmark: the Moscow Volunteer Fire Department.
My next stop was Jackson, MI, and I found a nice place downtown to snap a photo of the bike with a CITY OF JACKSON sign behind it. Ignore the fire hydrant.
Finding Jerusalem
Following the instructions on the Google Maps printout in my tankbag and on the GPS, I rode Interstate 94 to the Fletcher exit. I came down the ramp to the stop sign and looked to the right, south down Fletcher road:
Chipseal.
So I looked north:
Chipseal and it curved right to who knows where.
And this ramp was off-94-only. No on ramp.
My fate was (chip)sealed: I was going to be riding on gravel over oil over pavement.
The amount of gravel varied on this road. The crown had bare spaces, and near the shoulder it was often deep enough to have a washboard effect. I carefully guided the NT south down Fletcher. I rode past Jerusalem Road, which looked like a dirt road at best and wasn't part of the route I had planned. Then the road curved to the right. I wished I had taken the opportunity to practice on the chipseal near home. At the stop sign, I saw a BMW GS rider coming north up Fletcher and rounding the corner to go where I came from. He must have thought I was nuts to be riding this bike on such a surface.
I had two choices at the stop sign: a 45 degree left turn to continue south on still-chipsealed Fletcher, or a 135 degree right turn to ride up chipsealed Haist to who-knows-where. I chose the devil whose name I know over the devil I just met and continued south on Fletcher.
Now Fletcher curved left, and I said "No, We are NOT doing this!" On the other hand, I didn't really want to try to execute a U turn here, and where was I going back to anyway? After the left there was an immediate right. I'm still riding about 30MPH and not being comfortable about the road surface.
I have told some people I rode about six miles on this stuff. On review, it turns out it was about three miles. It just seemed longer.
I gave up on finding Jerusalem. Later, it turned out the stop sign at Fletcher and Haist was in the middle of Jerusalem - all six buildings of it.
Not All who Wander Are Lost, but Some Are
Convinced that I was now off the route, I had the GPS point to Hell and tried to get to it by guesswork. This area of Michigan is not a great place to make that choice.I ended up wandering up to Stockbridge, where I pulled off into a Sunoco station (they still exist?) to check my directions. My original route had me going through Pinckney, west through Hell, and into Stockbridge, so I just reversed the directions. Fortunately, this worked, although at times I doubted I was where I needed to be.
My Time in Hell
Mary and I stopped in Hell in January on the way back from my cousin's funeral. Hell is a tourist trap. There's really not much there: a bar, an ice cream shop/miniature golf course/souvenir shop, and a fast food/grocery/kayak rental/post office/souvenir shop. The bar may also be a souvenir shop, but I haven't visited it.
The parking lot is gravel. I suggested they find a charity and have people donate $100 per brick, with $90 of it going to the charity and $10 going to the purchase, engraving, and installation of the brick into their driveway. That way the road to Hell could be paved with good intentions.
I ate half a pizza at the fast food operation (Hell in a Handbasket / Hell's Kitchen) and stopped at the Ice Cream shop (Screams).
I was amazed at the number of cars with ichthyses (Jesus fish) in the parking lot. There are a lot more Christians in Hell than I expected. The lettering on the fairing of the NT means "Grace". I took a couple photos of the bike to prove that Grace can even be present in Hell.
Then I got the Hell out of there.
Take the Short Way Home
The ride into Lansing was uneventful, and I got a couple of nice shots of the bike in front of the Capitol building. Unfortunately, the lettering on the sign didn't come out very clearly.
By now it was getting late, so I decided to scrap the remaining stops and just head straight home. However, as I was riding south on I-69, it turns out Charlotte was directly on business 69. I couldn't resist. As luck would have it, there's a giant Welcome to Charlotte sign that's easy to see as one rides down the ramp, and a nice parking lot across the street (I think it was a VFW). Perfect spot for a photo, and I was back on my way.
Nashville seemed a bit out of the way, but it looked like Augusta was close. I was so wrong. It ended up being a 20 mile diversion to get photos that were too dark in a place with way too many mosquitoes.
Having learned my lesson by burning up a good half hour, I skipped Hartford and just rode home, returning about 11:30 PM.
On the motorcycle, I don't have a fancy modern GPS. I have a Garmin StreetPilot.
(It's shown here mounted in its old spot - between the handlebars - but on this trip it was mounted to the newly-installed RAM ball on the clutch lever assembly.)
This GPS doesn't have all the local roads, doesn't do route recalculation or even calculation, and has no traffic features. I could have stopped and manually loaded in a new route, but instead I decided to look at the roads it did show and wing it.
Athens Unexpected
I made my way to Michigan 66 and headed south. Luckily, this took me through Athens.
My Women on Wheels chapter has a contest that involves visiting towns with the same names as state and national capitals, so this was a welcome opportunity. Unfortunately, there was no parking in front of the post office and there was a squad car sitting just up the street, so I took a bit of an angle shot.
Hiding in Plain Sight: Concord
The ride to Concord was uneventful, but when I got there, I rode all the way down Main without seeing a post office or village hall. I took three rights around a residential block to run back up the street, but as I approached Main, I saw a couple of young men at a house with a couple of dirt bikes. I pulled up and asked "can you tell me where the Post Office is?"
"The Post Office?" one of them asked. "You mean there?" And he pointed across the street to the Post Office - on the very side street and directly opposite their home.
In Moscow, Red is for Fire Trucks
For some reason, I thought I had scheduled Hell earlier on my routes (which were programmed into the GPS). As I followed the directions, I next found myself in Moscow MI. There was a Moscow Cantina and a Moscow General Store, but they could just be names of businesses in a town of a different name - little proof that I visited the town. I thought I would have to settle for the road sign and pulled onto the gravel shoulder to take a couple of photos.
As I started to ride out of town, I found the perfect landmark: the Moscow Volunteer Fire Department.
My next stop was Jackson, MI, and I found a nice place downtown to snap a photo of the bike with a CITY OF JACKSON sign behind it. Ignore the fire hydrant.
Finding Jerusalem
Following the instructions on the Google Maps printout in my tankbag and on the GPS, I rode Interstate 94 to the Fletcher exit. I came down the ramp to the stop sign and looked to the right, south down Fletcher road:
Chipseal.
So I looked north:
Chipseal and it curved right to who knows where.
And this ramp was off-94-only. No on ramp.
My fate was (chip)sealed: I was going to be riding on gravel over oil over pavement.
The amount of gravel varied on this road. The crown had bare spaces, and near the shoulder it was often deep enough to have a washboard effect. I carefully guided the NT south down Fletcher. I rode past Jerusalem Road, which looked like a dirt road at best and wasn't part of the route I had planned. Then the road curved to the right. I wished I had taken the opportunity to practice on the chipseal near home. At the stop sign, I saw a BMW GS rider coming north up Fletcher and rounding the corner to go where I came from. He must have thought I was nuts to be riding this bike on such a surface.
I had two choices at the stop sign: a 45 degree left turn to continue south on still-chipsealed Fletcher, or a 135 degree right turn to ride up chipsealed Haist to who-knows-where. I chose the devil whose name I know over the devil I just met and continued south on Fletcher.
Now Fletcher curved left, and I said "No, We are NOT doing this!" On the other hand, I didn't really want to try to execute a U turn here, and where was I going back to anyway? After the left there was an immediate right. I'm still riding about 30MPH and not being comfortable about the road surface.
I have told some people I rode about six miles on this stuff. On review, it turns out it was about three miles. It just seemed longer.
I gave up on finding Jerusalem. Later, it turned out the stop sign at Fletcher and Haist was in the middle of Jerusalem - all six buildings of it.
Not All who Wander Are Lost, but Some Are
Convinced that I was now off the route, I had the GPS point to Hell and tried to get to it by guesswork. This area of Michigan is not a great place to make that choice.I ended up wandering up to Stockbridge, where I pulled off into a Sunoco station (they still exist?) to check my directions. My original route had me going through Pinckney, west through Hell, and into Stockbridge, so I just reversed the directions. Fortunately, this worked, although at times I doubted I was where I needed to be.
My Time in Hell
Mary and I stopped in Hell in January on the way back from my cousin's funeral. Hell is a tourist trap. There's really not much there: a bar, an ice cream shop/miniature golf course/souvenir shop, and a fast food/grocery/kayak rental/post office/souvenir shop. The bar may also be a souvenir shop, but I haven't visited it.
The parking lot is gravel. I suggested they find a charity and have people donate $100 per brick, with $90 of it going to the charity and $10 going to the purchase, engraving, and installation of the brick into their driveway. That way the road to Hell could be paved with good intentions.
I ate half a pizza at the fast food operation (Hell in a Handbasket / Hell's Kitchen) and stopped at the Ice Cream shop (Screams).
I was amazed at the number of cars with ichthyses (Jesus fish) in the parking lot. There are a lot more Christians in Hell than I expected. The lettering on the fairing of the NT means "Grace". I took a couple photos of the bike to prove that Grace can even be present in Hell.
Then I got the Hell out of there.
Take the Short Way Home
The ride into Lansing was uneventful, and I got a couple of nice shots of the bike in front of the Capitol building. Unfortunately, the lettering on the sign didn't come out very clearly.
By now it was getting late, so I decided to scrap the remaining stops and just head straight home. However, as I was riding south on I-69, it turns out Charlotte was directly on business 69. I couldn't resist. As luck would have it, there's a giant Welcome to Charlotte sign that's easy to see as one rides down the ramp, and a nice parking lot across the street (I think it was a VFW). Perfect spot for a photo, and I was back on my way.
Nashville seemed a bit out of the way, but it looked like Augusta was close. I was so wrong. It ended up being a 20 mile diversion to get photos that were too dark in a place with way too many mosquitoes.
Having learned my lesson by burning up a good half hour, I skipped Hartford and just rode home, returning about 11:30 PM.
