This morning found us at the Harley manufacturing plant, which turned out to be quite a facility. Terry took several pictures of the grounds and the visitors center (I’ve included a few pictures) although no cameras were allowed on the tour. The tour turned out to be amazing, watching massive machines, standing a good 30 feet tall and almost as square, stamping out fenders, which were then run through a robot controller laser which burned perfect holes and rectangles in the precise spots needed for the assembly process. We walked around rolled steel that was being fed through machines that stamped our perfect parts, then through the lines where workers were assembling all the components as the bikes were held aloft and moving from place to place. We walked through the paint area, the chroming area, bays of pieces that were assembled in simply amazing fashion. If you find yourself in York, do stop in for I think you’ll be impressed.
Serendipitous would define how we found Dr. Hoffman. A friend, who I met through work and who just happens to live in York, called Dr. Hoffman, who agreed to see Terry. Can you imagine that? Dr. Hoffman, you’re wonderful! A thorough exam revealed no abscess or anything that would indicate there’s a problem. Likely a dying nerve that lets the owner know the meaning of pain. The diagnosis .. continue taking the antibiotics, lots of aspirin and stop whining.
He left York shortly thereafter, driving north on 83, getting lost in Harrisburg, then onto I81, then driving 100 miles. We, somehow, found 92, then 171, and 370 which brought us to Hancock, NY, the southwest corner of the Catskill Mountains. The 50 miles from 92 through 370 was what riding is all about. A two lane road, through simply beautiful country and towns that really shouldn’t exist, from 4:30ish to just before 6pm, cold enough to put jackets on, we were in heaven.
Tomorrow, through the Catskills, to Woodstock, and then onto Rowe, MA.
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