09-20-2012, 09:14 PM
Joined: Jul 2008
Night 1 saw me relaxing in a warm motel, having a scotch with a Belgian ale back whilst drying my gear & having a warm shower, having no idea of the fate of my erstwhile riding partner. After sleeping in a bit I check my phone & see multiple messages from said compadre. Whoops. As soon as I pick it up it he calls again. The story is very abridged: “broke down, rain, no tow truck for four hours, Bob's BMW,” and the he ends with “it was the Hall Effect Sensor you rotten bastard.” I take the last to mean that he'd been on the side of the road for the better part of the night knowing how I'd laugh at that particular part failing. We'd often joked about it being part Voodoo & one of the few things we knew we were helpless against on the side of the road. Better on 95 within shouting distance of Bob's than in Labrador... I tell him to let me know when he gets on the road and I'll find us a campsite an appropriate distance north of him on the Atlantic.
After a quick cup'a I load the bike back up, get into my delightfully dry gear, and hit the road. The plan is to hit some of Vermont's fantastic dirt roads while waiting to hear that Mike was back on the road and then hightail it East. I stopped in a parking lot to switch gloves and had a laugh at this:
I carve up a good section of VT9 that is beautifully deserted at this time of the morning and an absolute dream. The I turn left up a dirt road and head towards Somerset Reservoir in the Green Mountain Nat'l Forest. Without a doubt some of the fastest dirt roads I've ever been on; not so much as a divot for almost the entire 8 or 10mi to the reservoir. I had breakfast with a view:
And then headed back down the mountain.
And I come upon a killer old damn & a huge wooden water pipe. It was about 10ft in diameter AND MADE OF WOOD. I'd just never seen one like it before.
After that I sat in traffic through several towns (Saturday afternoon at the end of summer) and stopped for what would have been one of the best pulled pork sandwiches I've ever had if I hadn't had to wait over 40min to get the damned thing. Then all it tasted like was frustration & bitterness. But it was still pretty good. Somewhere around then I heard from Mike that he was back on the road. At least that's what I gleaned from the garbled message I got that sounded like someone screaming for joy in their helmet with a mouthful of granola bar.
A little more dirt before I bust east:
And then I ran Rt7 East for the rest of the day. No good pics, just lots of small towns, rivers, and beautiful roads being ruined by packs of Harleys going under the limit. Now that I say it outloud, I have no idea why there are no pics. It was beautiful and I wasn't in a hurry. But I was damned well enjoying myself.
I got to our appointed meet up in Salisbury Beach MA an hour or so ahead of Mike as planned. I bought some beer & chocolate and headed to our water-front campsite. Only to find that it was full. No matter; I'd passed several others on the way in and I was sure that Mike wasn't going to be too picky about where we slept after his ordeal. The next one I stopped at had 2 open campsites & I rode out to look at them. It was the eeriest sensation of the whole trip rolling through this camp ground. A dirty veil of thick smoke lay over everything and all the sites were right on top of each other. It immediately reminded me of the refugee camps you see in sci-fi movies after the aliens have blown up all the major cities and only the weirdos with RVs got out in time. I'm pretty sure I even heard some small arms fire in the distance through the haze. I hightailed it out of there about 25min later; the damned place was a maze of criss-crossing roads with similar names & no less than three “Main St's”.
I was starting to get worried about finding a decent spot, but the next place was perfect. Great staff, clean facilities, and friendly neighbors. I radioed the coordinates to Goose and he got there just as I finished setting up my tent. I handed him a beer, slapped him on the back, and got down to cooking some dinner.
Coming up: Day 3! I actually start taking pictures!!
1967 Triumph Daytona Bobber ("project" would be kind)
1973 R75/5 LWB (Keeper)
1973/74 CB/CL 360's + Several 70-73 CL/CB 350/450 Cafe's
1974 XL250 Street Tracker
2002 R1150GS White Whale