The end of my guided ride. How to ride on the left side of the road

Tara Lodge. My one night stay in Belfast. The next day on the ferry to Island of Man

They know how to pack them in. I lost my bike. Did not remember what level I was on and what stair way. But I found it.

The view from my room at the Hotel Halvard.

The stores around Douglas.

 

 The Head of Douglas. It overlooked the Irish Sea. I spread some of Nancy ashes her.  

The Bee Gees were born on the Isle of Man.

The view from my hotel room in Douglas.

The capital city of Douglas.

I needed a drink. After the long ferry ride. It had engine issues. It was an hour late and took an hour longer to get to the Isle of ma

The Titanic Museum.

Getting ready to board the Ferry to Island of Man.

The streets of Belfast at 5am on a Sunday. I could not sleep.

A castle that I passed in Ireland along the way to Belfast 

he Hotel Club is next to a thoroughbred horse auction. As you can see if the horse does not auction off it goes into the dumpster.

Delaware Cruise A post that was never published.

 Took a long ride to the Pattenburg house only to find it under construction. So we took a short ride to The York Inn and it was closed. Down to the National in Frenchtown and it’s sore was also locked. OY 

Finally, Cocina del Sol was serving outside and had a table with an umbrella so we sat down.  

Live and Enjoy Life

 Before she passed, my beautiful wife Nancy left me with a simple but powerful message: Live. Enjoy life. She wrote it in notes, in cards, in her smile—even in the quiet moments we shared. So that’s what I’m trying to do.

A month after losing her, I saw a motorcycle tour offered by Celtic Riders. It included the Isle of Man—somewhere I’ve always dreamed of visiting ever since I first saw the TT races. Something stirred in me. I emailed Paul Rawlins, booked the trip, and committed to honoring Nancy the best way I knew how: by riding.

On May 10th, I flew to Ireland and picked up a rented BMW 1300GS. From the rolling green of Ireland to the legendary curves of the Isle of Man, through England’s quiet roads and into the highlands and lochs of Scotland—I rode with her memory beside me every mile.

At Douglas Head on the Isle of Man, I scattered some of Nancy’s ashes into the Irish Sea. The view was stunning. A poppy etched into the grass. People walking dogs. Roses on a bench. I sat there for a while, imagining Nancy smiling, saying, “This is perfect.”

In each country, I found a special place and released a part of her—into the wind, the water, the world she loved but didn’t get to explore. I miss her every day. The intercom is quiet now. No “slow down,” no “stop for a picture,” no “I have to pee.” Just the voice of the GPS and the sound of the engine. But in the silence, I still hear her.

This tour wasn’t just a ride—it was a promise kept. To live. To enjoy life. And to carry her spirit with me wherever the road goes next.

Love you always Nancy  Your husband Furman

First stop, a day at the hotel Club at Goff, to get used to the time change.  The next morning get a ride to Celtic Rider.

That's Paul the owner of Celtic Rider.

 https://www.blackwellmh.com/obituaries/nancy-hendrickson

Nancy Hendrickson

1. Nancy Beth Resnick Hendrickson was born on May 9th, 1957 and passed on in
2. her 67th year on November 9th, 2024. She is survived by her devoted, gentle and
3. loving husband, Furman Hendrickson, her mother, Rita Resnick, her sister Marcia
4. Montanya, brother Howard Resnick, nephew, Aaron Resnick, niece Renee Resnick,
5. her mother-in-law, Patricia Hendrickson, sister-in-law, Vicki Hendrickson-Daye,
6. brother-in-law, Gilbert Daye, her dog, MaraBella, along with cousins and her many
7. loving friends and neighbors.
8. Nancy lived a charmed and radiant life along the alluring Delaware River for
9. 36 years where she spent her days creating a beautiful home for she and Furman
10. and their dogs, Casper and MaraBella. She had a deep relationship with nature and
11. designed beautiful gardens that surround the outside of their home. Together
12. they would spend their summer days boating on the river and floating with the
13. currents along with friends, family, dogs and a good book.
14. Nancy's career spanned decades as a school Psychologist for the
15. Lawrenceville School District in Lawrenceville, NJ where she tirelessly advocated
16. for the well-being of the students she lovingly counseled and supported, as well as,
17. initiated, launched and ushered in the Holocaust Education Program for the
18. enrichment and benefit of the district and the lives of the students that attended
19. school there.
20. From the moment someone put a Kodak camera into her hands when she was
21. just a young child, Nancy was an avid photographer. She was a well-known and
22. sought out photographer of the local scenery and wildlife where she and Furman
23. lived along with photographing the world as together the two of them spent their
24. years traveling the globe on motorcycle excursions and journeys through many,
25. many countries cultivating a rich love and knowledge of the many cultures they
26. immersed themselves in.
27. It is hard to say goodbye to someone as colorful and vibrant as Nancy
28. because she touched so many lives, but she will be remembered by her family and
29. many friends across this continent and the continents of this world. Nancy made a
30. vivid impression on all those who loved her. She was wild, fun, compassionate,
31. outspoken, and held a strong conviction and empathy for what she believed in 
32. deeply and compassionately. And, as we do say goodbye to our beautiful, silver-
33. haired goddess, we will raise our glass of Cosmo's and toast to a spirit that will live 
34. on in all that knew her through the rivers of our own fond memories, good times,
35. laughter and love with Nancy.
36. To honor the life of Nancy Resnick-Hendrickson, there will be a Celebration
37. of Life...no dates or times have been determined at this time.

All Before 8

 What a morning. Just a bit hazy and a cool 63 degrees, I figured Marabella would accompany me to the Crossing. That didnt happen. Our first stop had me stepping in place. My heavy dog walking, dewy, wet grass resistant boots, unbeknown to me, squishing what was obviously Mullberries discovered only after the aroma wafted up to my face.  I was instantly transported to the driveway at the farm house in Hopewell.

And such was our walk this morning, she stopping and sniffing and me stopping and stepping back and forth, until we reached the middle of the field and I had to have a serious talk with my dog. OY

My suspicion is Coyote   She has been learning to ignore or at least leave, the deer, squirrels l, fox and bunnies. I had very little control of her this morning. 

Lucky for me our day would get better. Once home, I burned off a bit of energy with a little bit of yardwork. I had clipped some fresh blooming hydrangea, when I encountered my vegetable gardening neighbor.  Now I have a bowl with tomatoes and carrots.  Alas, he has the hydranges😃

 

Yum  

 

Time to Jam

I had the pleasure of received a great tip, to “Head down to Well’s Blueberry Farm in Southampton  https://www.wellsblueberryfarm.com/. I left home a little after 9 am on Thursday. There was a definite haze above as New Jersey heat and humidity and smoke from Canada clashed. I drove about 45 minutes south into Jersey farm country.  I followed the sign directing start here where  I was handed a small can to tie around my waist and a large bucket by a nice women who directed me to the picking area just a short walk up a dirt road.   The berries were light blue to deep dark blueish purple  and shiny, round and plump and perfect and seemed to jump from the vines into the can I had strapped to my waist.  

I filled the small can three times, transferring each full load  into the larger bucket, I carried with me as I made my way down the row. In less then an hour and not even half way into the row, the big bucket was full and heavy. I heard the plunk plunk of the berries falling into the cans and the soft chatter of some women a row away.  I was so happy to be out there on the farm picking berries and feeling how perfectly economically, medically, sustainabley sane getting fresh real food from a farm is.  I hauled my pickings  to the barn, where I  checked out about 12 pounds at $2.50 each and along with a jar of local wild flower honey, went home. 

By the end of the day I had berries everywhere. Big beautiful firm berries in the fridge, a bunch of quart zip locks in the freezer holding one pound each and I made 6 jars of jam without pectin. Never successfully did that before.  I already tasted it and can assure you it’s yummy. One open jar already in fridge. 

Give it a go.

2 quarts fresh blueberries

3 cups sugar

1 tablespoon fresh squeezed lemon juice

1 inch stick cinnamon 

Mash two cups of berries in a large pot.  Add the rest of the berries and bring to a rapid boil, stirring constantly for 5 minutes  

Remove from heat and add sugar, lemon juice and cinnamon  Return to heat, bring to rapid boil, stirring constantly til thick and syrupy. This took a bit of time, stirring and watching the bubbling juice thicken as it dyed my wooden spoon. Don’t rush it,  you’ll recognize it when it happens. Remove from heat when it does.   

Pour into sterile jars, seal with lid and ring in a water bath  to preserve. Let cool without moving before storing.    

I should probably suggest using stainless steal utensils.  Blueberry juice would make a good dye.  

On Friday I just had to make muffins and they were so yum with the Jam