What if Royal Enfields owned the road?

There are many beautiful roads in Wisconsin begging to be ridden on a Royal Enfield motorcycle. Interstate 43 in Milwaukee is not one of them.

Three lanes wide, a major commuter route, it ought to be jammed with giant trucks and impatient motorists all the time, every day. And yet, oddly, it wasn't.

There I was, during Saturday rush hour, on my way back to my mother-in-law's house. We'd just finished a very pleasant tour of Milwaukee's Lakefront Brewery.

Lakefront is a small establishment that somehow produces a six-shooter's worth of delightful beers. Unlike the big breweries, Lakefront lets visitors sample the beer starting at the beginning of the tour. That is more fun and it spreads out the sampling, all from a small plastic cup. There is no guzzling.

We'd sat at a picnic bench at the brewery for some time after the tour, and I now felt perfectly up to driving.

Even so, I had to double check my eyesight when we got on I-43. There was not a car in sight. I shot the picture above through the windshield. One car is visible ahead (you have to squint to see it). Behind me, at an equal distance, was one other car.

Where was everybody? None of my passengers knew of any sporting event that would have kept people in front of the television. There were no tell-tale helicopters visible in the sky over some tragic accident. The road was just... empty.

I had to wonder if the economy is that bad in Milwaukee (still a blue-color town where Americans actually make things in factories instead of sitting at computers in cubicles). Are no businesses running Saturday shifts anymore?

I haven't got the answer. But, for once, I actually wished I was riding the interstate on my Royal Enfield instead of driving a Toyota. It would have been great to really Own The Road.

On our way out of town we were delighted to discover that the Milwaukee Airport serves two of Lakefront Brewery's finest beers.