Day
8
October 8th, 2001
Montpelier, Vermont
We sat in the lobby of the Comfort Inn reviewing alternate routes. We
brushed snow off the STs when we packed up this morning, and we are now eating
fruit and cereal, contemplating our next move.
A brutal morning in Vermont, and this is only October!
We are not riding far today, but in terms of saddle time, it will be a 8 hour
day. Our final goal for this trip is Camden, Maine. Why? When I
planned this trip it looked like a logical place to turnaround. I also
wanted to visit a coastal Maine city, so Camden was picked.
I looked across the table and said-
"dang brother the weather-guessers said it is 14 degrees with blowing snow
on Mount Washington"
"yeah"
"I think we should stay out of the White Mountains, and take a more
southerly approach into Maine."
"It was one of your goals to ride the White Mountains"
"I know but that would be crazy. There will be other rides, I can
always come back"
So it was. I was disappointed. I will concede today, and return when
the odds are in MY favor. Mount Washington isn't going anywhere.
Skipping a riding day to let the weather settle, is a tough call. To log
thousands and thousands of accident free miles requires such thinking. Don't
ride when things are stacked against you. Take it as it comes, and know
when to quit.
We pulled out of the parking lot, new course layed in, and displayed on the map
window pocket on my left sleeve.
We dropped out of Montpelier to SR 25 north. The weather immediately improved as
we left the mountains.
Once again I was wearing full winter gear.
Vermont has the most interesting road signs in the country. Colorful and
graphic. The signs will read "Rockabye Inn 3 miles" or
"Jackson Driveway".
The sun was trying to break out, and the skies to the east look blue.
We cross into New Hampshire at Piermont and I pull off in a driveway and wait
for Phil to take his ceremonial picture of the welcome sign.
Vermont 25 turns into New Hampshire 25, and it will take us all the way across
to Maine. A whole 90 miles or so.
SR 25 takes us past farms and through villages, by pumpkin
stands, and farm houses decorated in fall and Halloween trim. We had a
great ride.
Pumpkins
for sale on New Hampshire SR 25
I look to the north at the White Mountains
and can see swirling clouds, and a cold looking atmosphere. We are in
gently rolling hills, and the sun is out. The mountains blocking the front
from passing over, trapping all the nasty stuff on the west side.
It pays to do some advance recon of the areas you plan to ride in. I knew
Mount Washington to be a nasty, windy place. It bears the most resemblance
in the East to a Rocky Mountain summit. It is a open bowl, and above the tree
line. Not a place for a couple of southern boys on motorcycles on a day
like today. We made a wise decision.
A few miles west of Meredith I notice a sign-
"George's Diner-just good food"
We arrive in town and seek out the diner. The northeast has the best diner
food. Yankees may not be worth a quarter at making sweet ice tea, but give
them a hunk of meat, or something to bake, and they dominate.
We find the diner, and the place is packed, but after a short wait we are
seated. I had some one of a kind blueberry pancakes and bacon. Phil
had some center cut breakfast chops that were to die for. I thought about those
chops for the next 400 miles.
We shared our table, with a man from the Boston area. He was in Meredith
shutting down his cottage for the winter. I guess the people here swim in
this cold water in the summer not knowing any better. I thought back to
the sauna like water of Alabama in June, or the 88 degree Gulf Water along the
shores of Destin. If they only knew.
While I waited for Phil, I chatted with a man out front who wanted to know about
the bikes, and where we were from.
Long Riders- good for business
We got back on the road and continued east. The sun is full out now, and I
stop to remove my winter gloves and thinsulate vest.
We cross into Maine, and turn north on SR 160 to set ourselves up for the run
into Camden.
We stopped for a butt break in Denmark. I munched on the chips, I have come to
love so well. They are called "Cape Cod Chips" old fashioned
kettle cooked chips. YUM. I topped it off with Mountain Dew, and soaked up
the sun on the picnic table.
Phil comes over and I say-
"dang brother where else would you rather be?"
"nowhere I can think off"
"we have a beautiful day to ride, we are in New England in fall, and have
no place we gotta be"
"thats a fact"
I see a man leaning on a truck eating fried chicken and quipped-
"I didn't know they had fried chicken in Maine"
"they don't", as he tossed the bag in the back of his truck. I
found out he is a retired power company lineman with a daughter in Gulf Shores,
Alabama.
With my butt rested we got back underway.
Maine is beautiful place with some of the funniest talking people I have ever
heard.
We veer off on SR 11 with Phil in front and stop off in Lewiston for gas.
We rode by a house that had some of the scariest Halloween stuff on record out
front. I guess they take Halloween serious around here.
We find SR 126 and skirt south of Augusta, avoiding school and late afternoon
traffic.
The day is drawing to a close as we pick up SR 17. So many route changes
to go so few miles. We have passed through a hundred New England towns,
and villages today. All of them different, and distinct. Not like
out west. These towns are OLD. Many incorporated in the 1600s.
The sun setting in the west casts my shadow out front and to the right, and I
watch it chase Phil's counterpart across the fields.
At last we come to US 1 and ride the last few miles into Camden. A village
in full fall mode. Beds and Breakfasts are jacked full. The business
district is bustling with tourists. Camden is the quintessence when it
comes to a New England village in fall. A coastal town with a harbor,
complete with white churches with tall steeples. A magical little town.
We ride through town and pull into Camden State Park. The plan is to camp
tonight but it is going to be cold. The wind is quiet so that will help. I
have good equipment and camping would be no problem. We put our heads together
and decide to go back to try and to find a room at a reasonable rate. If we
can't, a camping we will go!
We find the Beloin on US 1 and stop in. The Beloin is what motels use to be in
this country before chains. Cottage style. We walk in and I belt out to the
white haired lady-
"we want the Alabama rate"
"you guys can have double beds for 50"
Phil says- "put it on me", as he gets out his Visa card.
The Beloin is 60 years old easy. The lady has owned it for 50 years.
Her husband long dead, it is all she has ever known. "I have some units
down on the shoreline". "This will be fine." The property
worth far more then the buildings I am sure, but no developers money will ever
get it from her. What must it have been like in the 1950s when this was all
anybody knew? Two lane roads, and local motel cottages, next to local
diners. No McDonalds, no Motel 6. Every motel different then the one you
stayed in the night before.
I opened the door and we found neat, clean, warm room, with cable TV. The only
modern thing the Beloin owned. I half expected the TV to be black and white when
I turned it on, with rabbit ears ontop.
I took a shower and then we rode into the heart of town for supper. Our target
is the Water Front Seafood Restaurant, recommended by who I assume to be Mrs.
Borlin, back at the motel.
We have a long wait and we spend the time chatting with the hostess and owner.
I had the fried shrimp and tried to watch the Monday night game on TV, but I am
not into football on this night.
It is dark and quiet we exit the restaurant and get back on the STs. Our
quiet bikes ease along the deserted village streets. My PIAAs reflect off
the store windows, and I can see the warm exhaust of Phil's bike in the cold
night air.
It was nice ride back to the motel.
I noticed a car with Massachusetts plates took a cottage down from us.
Back in the room I made a few journal notes and watched TV. Phil fell
asleep before the lights went off.
Tomorrow we start the trip back south and home.
