Detours, Ducks, and Dragonfruit: A Ride to Piney Point.

Some rides are smooth and scenic. Others test your patience, your gear... and your app tolerance. This was a little bit of all of that.

Uncle Beardly and I set out from Severn, MD with bellies empty and spirits high, headed to The Ruddy Duck Seafood & Alehouse in Piney Point. I had mapped out our route in the Harley-Davidson Ride Planner app — which, as it turns out, is great… until you take one tiny wrong turn. Unlike most modern GPS systems that gently whisper, “recalculating,” this thing dug in its heels like a stubborn mule.

For nearly an hour, it fought me, demanding I turn around and ride 60 miles backward just to reconnect with the original route. Every quarter mile, it tried to reroute me like I was doing something morally offensive by improvising.

Between the app’s freak-out, the rising heat, and trying not to get lost, my anxiety decided it was time to shine. Health anxiety is my particular brand of fun. Summer riding always messes with my head — you're sweating, but the wind evaporates it so fast you don’t feel it, and suddenly I’m spiraling: Am I dehydrated? Or overhydrated? Is that a cramp or just hunger?

Eventually, I pulled over, muttered something salty, and switched to Waze. Uncle Beardly, patient as ever, had rolled with it, but even he was ready for food. We rerouted straight to the Ruddy Duck. I missed the turn (classic), circled back, and finally we rolled in — thirsty, hungry, and ready for a break.

Inside, the place was nicely air-conditioned with polished brewing tanks on display and some truly bizarre (and slightly creepy) duck-people paintings on the walls. Beardly ordered the seared salmon and a beer, while I went rogue and got the Reuben egg rolls for us to share. Beardly passed on them — maybe he had a vision of what was about to happen.

When they hit the table, fresh from the fryer, they looked glorious. I, being impatient and reckless, tried to slice one with a butter knife… and promptly launched it off my chest like a saucy cannonball. It hit the floor with a splatter worthy of a Jackson Pollock painting. The bartender gave me a “damn, buddy” kind of look but came back minutes later with a fresh replacement, free of judgment — and it was incredible.

After that, I took down their Brewhouse burger: a thick Angus patty with bacon, cheddar, house sauce, pickles, lettuce, and tomato on a gluten-free roll. Washed it all down with their DragonFruit craft beer — light, crisp, brewed with sorghum, brown rice, honey, and dragon fruit syrup. Gluten-free and unforgettable.

While we were finishing up, one of the workers came over to talk bikes — specifically about a one-piece Aerotech motorcycle suit someone gave him. Offered it to us for $800 (they retail around $1800), but I don’t think my wallet — or my wife — would be thrilled with that impulse buy. We hopped back on the bikes and rode over to Solomons Island. It’s got this quiet charm to it — a little town with roots going back to the 1600s. Once a shipbuilding hub and later a Navy testing ground, now it’s a laid-back waterfront spot perfect for riders needing a leg stretch or a cup of coffee with a view.

From there, we rolled onto the Governor Thomas Johnson Bridge — and let me tell you, that bridge hits different on two wheels. It’s long, high, and slightly unnerving if you let your mind wander too far off the guardrails. The view from the top is pure Southern Maryland — wide stretches of the Patuxent River blending into the Bay, boats cutting across the water like silver threads. There’s this weird moment of calm when you're up there — wind pushing against your chest, the sound of the motor humming under you, and nothing ahead but sky and bridge.

It felt like the perfect reset after the earlier chaos. Just open air, water on both sides, and the sun reflecting off the river. After descending the bridge, the road curved through quiet neighborhoods and marshland as we headed deeper into Piney Point. The traffic thinned out, the trees got taller, and the air felt just a little cooler thanks to a steady breeze rolling in from the water. We rode past waterfront homes where the house was on one side of the street and, directly across from it, their private cabanas and docks sat on the beach. It looked like the kind of setup you’d see in a dream or a glossy coastal magazine — morning coffee on one side, paddleboard launch on the other.

We made our final stop at Piney Point Lighthouse — Maryland’s oldest, built in 1836 — standing guard where the Potomac meets the Bay. We wandered into the small two-room museum and gift shop, checked out the displays of shells and shark teeth, and poked around some nautical knickknacks. It’s a quick visit, but worth the stop if you’re down that way.

Outside, we found a shady spot near the lighthouse to sit and have a drink. There was even an old torpedo on display in the yard — because, why not? It was peaceful… at first. But either we smelled like sweat and sunscreen, or the breeze wasn’t doing us any favors, because the flies started swarming like we were part of the exhibit. We hung out for a few more minutes, then decided it was time to head out. We saddled back up, grabbed some gas, and hit the road — to wrap up this adventure.

The road doesn’t always go as planned, but the ride’s still worth it. Until next time — brake when you need to, bite into something good, and don’t forget to breathe. -Dom

Curious what happens when I film a ride with zero cinematic skills and a brand-new Insta360 X5? Click here and lower those expectations.