Sooner State Valkyrie Riders

By: John Bowman

The sun hadn’t yet risen over I-35 when Tim Ogilvie and I departed Edmond, Oklahoma for Shanksville, Pennsylvania, where Flight 93 crashed on September 11, 2001. Before the sleepy folks of Edmond in their SUV’s began their headlong rush to get to work in Oklahoma City, we rode south on I-35 and exited to I-44, through Tulsa and into Missouri. Highway 60 in Springfield, Missouri was our next exit. It took us to Cape Girardeau in southeast Missouri where we met Mike Sheehan and his wife at their home that evening. Mike created and planned “Let’s Roll, MO” and was to lead us to Pennsylvania and the crash site.

“Brother Mike” lives in a large house built in 1927 with his wife Mary. During the school year, they rent rooms in their basement to as many as five foreign exchange college students. Mike and Mary were wonderful hosts and gave Tim and I a place to sleep. Mary prepared a delicious dinner, and promised breakfast. We couldn’t thank her enough. The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, we went outside and were greeted by darkness, clouds and rain. The three of us struggled into our rain gear and set out on our Valkyries to meet the other eight riders. At the Harley shop where Mike works, we met five more riders, and later at a filling station, two more. We rode three Valkyries, five Harleys, a Victory and one Honda VTX1300. Now we were ten, all bound for Shanksville on a rainy day.

On our first night, Tim, Mike and I camped in Connersville, Missouri. The others chose to stay in a motel. For dinner, we chose a place called “Mousie’s,” recommended to us by one of the locals. From the outside Mousie’s provides no clue as to what is inside, just one mysterious neon sign hangs over the door that says only “MOUSIE’S.” Above the roof stands an overhead railway. Is it a bar… a strip joint? No, no, it’s just a little restaurant with good food and drink. Inside, a few of the citizens expressed curiosity about our visit to their small town: “Are we there to work at one of the plants in town?” and “How did we find Mousie’s?” Apparently this small town doesn’t get many visitors. We told them about our destination and the purpose of our trip. Mousie’s may not be on the five star list for gourmet dining, but the food was simple and good.

The next day, after riding a few miles, we stopped for breakfast. Just after we dismounted, as sometimes happens among friends, a disagreement occurred resulting in two riders deciding to leave the fold. (It would serve no purpose here to outline the details.) Now we were eight. We’d be in the Shanksville area by nightfall.

Back on the road, as we passed through one tiny town after another, the group strung out until only three riders were in the lead. The other five managed to somehow find the way on their own. After a very long day, all eight riders arrived in Somerset, Pennsylvania, a small city just large enough to offer a motel or two and a campground. Some camped while others stayed at the AAA Economy Motel. Since we had left Oklahoma, Tim and I had seen Missouri, Illinois, Indiana West Virginia and Pennsylvania. The tiny town of Shanksville and the crash site are now only minutes away.

After a night’s rest we mounted up for a visit to the local high school on our way to the crash site. Mike had earlier passed the hat to collect a few bucks to be donated to the students. We chatted with teachers, secretaries and the superintendent. We noticed that students and staff had placed several monuments to the crash victims around the campus.

As we arrived at the crash site we could see a small wooden building and several flags flying. The gravel parking lot reminded us that this is a temporary memorial located about two hundred yards from the crash site. An American flag marks the spot where the plane went down. Only government officials and relatives of the victims are allowed to visit the actual crash site. Millions of dollars from public and private sources have been committed toward the construction of a permanent memorial, but the dirt work is yet to begin.

From the crash site, we rode to Shanksville to visit the fire department that was first to respond to the crash. A fireman who was one of the first people on the scene described what he saw, or rather didn’t see. All he saw were small pieces of unrecognizable debris and a mound of dirt pushed up where the airplane had dug into the ground at close to 600 miles an hour. A few trees were still burning, and there was smoke, but there was nothing else remarkable to mark the spot where the victims of Flight 93 perished. Everything and everyone on board had simply been pulverized.

Before we left Shanksville, we had a bite to eat at Ida’s Store, owned and operated by the aforementioned fireman and his wife. A couple of the guys consumed a treat new to me called “Gobs.” Gobs have a white creamy filling between two large cookies. The creamy filling, I was told, was a mixture of Crisco and sugar and various other flavorings. You could almost hear the arteries clogging. Mmmm, good!

On the way back to the motel, we stopped at a Boss Hoss dealership. Two wheels, an automobile engine and custom paint sells for $90,000, a fine tribute to all-American excess. We don’ care ‘bout no stinkin’ gasoline shortage.

Tim Ogilvie had researched the area before the trip and had discovered that a famous home designed by American architect Frank Lloyd Wright was nearby. Do you remember seeing pictures of the house with a waterfall underneath it? It’s called Fallingwater and we took the tour. It was a great experience not to be missed.

After the Fallingwater tour we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Tim took off for Kentucky to visit an old friend, and I departed for Oklahoma via I-70.

On the way home, I spotted the American Motorcycle Association Museum and stopped to take a look. The display area was smaller than I had imagined, but still worth the visit. Just inside the door I spied a 1941 four cylinder Indian. I’ve always thought of this bike as the great-grandfather to the Valkyrie. In St. Louis, I picked up I-44 and rolled on home. We laughed a lot and I think that (almost) everyone had a great time.

Eye Candy:
John’s Pictures
Tim’s Pictures