Day eight of Stewbert's and my motorcycle journey had but one simple goal: Get out of New York City, and as close to Gettysburg as we could.
We bisected Manhattan via 34th Street, dove through the Holland Tunnel, and flew through Jersey on I-78. As we left the urban jungle I caught one last glimpse of Lady Liberty, standing tall and beautiful. As the Jersey traffic found its comfort zone at 90 miles per hour, I had time to reflect.
Although this was only my second trip to New York City, it felt like a changed place. The exuberance, liveliness and energy that define the city were still there, but to a lesser degree. I couldn't help but notice, in the city that never sleeps, an increase of vacant tables at restaurants, open seats at bars.
Twice we were turned away because kitchens were closed - unheard of!
One night, while having a beer with Chris, I asked him about the city's economy. In a city the size of NYC, 'unemployment' means tens of thousands of people. As if to accentuate the plight, our bartender turned to us, "Here guys, this one's on me." With surprised, wide eyes, Chris explained that in NYC, you NEVER get a free drink.
Even the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island were visited by only a handful of tourists on the day we went. The line around the Empire State Building seemed a little less dense, and although present, the carefree air of invincibility seemed a tiny bit troubled.
Stewbert and I made it to Gettysburg, Pa., in good time, but I couldn't help but remember the previous evening in New York. Chris and I were still laughing about our free drink, and then because we got into a piano bar minus the cover charge. We then ate at a near-deserted Brazilian restaurant. When we asked for the check the server said, "How about one more round? C'mon guys - it's on me."
- Dan Wegmueller writes a weekly column for the Times, and an annual journal from his summer motorcycle trip. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net
We bisected Manhattan via 34th Street, dove through the Holland Tunnel, and flew through Jersey on I-78. As we left the urban jungle I caught one last glimpse of Lady Liberty, standing tall and beautiful. As the Jersey traffic found its comfort zone at 90 miles per hour, I had time to reflect.
Although this was only my second trip to New York City, it felt like a changed place. The exuberance, liveliness and energy that define the city were still there, but to a lesser degree. I couldn't help but notice, in the city that never sleeps, an increase of vacant tables at restaurants, open seats at bars.
Twice we were turned away because kitchens were closed - unheard of!
One night, while having a beer with Chris, I asked him about the city's economy. In a city the size of NYC, 'unemployment' means tens of thousands of people. As if to accentuate the plight, our bartender turned to us, "Here guys, this one's on me." With surprised, wide eyes, Chris explained that in NYC, you NEVER get a free drink.
Even the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island were visited by only a handful of tourists on the day we went. The line around the Empire State Building seemed a little less dense, and although present, the carefree air of invincibility seemed a tiny bit troubled.
Stewbert and I made it to Gettysburg, Pa., in good time, but I couldn't help but remember the previous evening in New York. Chris and I were still laughing about our free drink, and then because we got into a piano bar minus the cover charge. We then ate at a near-deserted Brazilian restaurant. When we asked for the check the server said, "How about one more round? C'mon guys - it's on me."
- Dan Wegmueller writes a weekly column for the Times, and an annual journal from his summer motorcycle trip. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net