7 a.m. Redhook, Brooklyn. Right now a cross-country road trip is sounding like a great idea. Nothing but diner food, gas station coffee and the roar of a 120 horsepower, 1,000 cc Italian V-twin to keep me company for the next four thousand miles.

8:30 p.m. 13-plus hours later and I'm in Cleveland. I'm wet, cold, tired and royally pissed off. Right now a cross-country trip is sounding like the dumbest idea I had since "I do."  620 miles in one day. 619 of which I got rained on (hey, it was dry in Red Hook.)  Got on Route 80 and got soaked. So I got off Route 80 onto 206. Got soaked on 206.  So I got off 206 took 15 South back to 80. Got soaked on 15. Then got soaked again on 80.

Still, I'll get a hot shower and a good night's sleep at the swank hotel I'm staying at in the Warehouse District. Combine some creature comforts with a large steak and several beers from the Cleveland Brewery and Chop House, and my chilled bones and lousy mood will both improve in time for tomorrow's leg.