Day 9 - Finis

I feel like I've been beat like a rented mule, so I'll be doing the regular entry after some serious sleeping and resting and stuff. For now, suffice it to say I am home, the bags are unpacked, my pup is on the bed and sleep is imminent.

now edited to add the last day's ride...

Friday night was a late one, but I slept uninterrupted until about 7:40 Saturday morning. I hadn't unpacked very much, so reloading was pretty simple. Downstairs, Jim had cooked up a mess of french toast, and I got to have Ohio maple syrup with my breakfast that morning. The clouds were still hanging around, but the rain of the previous night had stopped. My bike and all of my riding gear were waiting for me over at the plant, and Jim gave me a ride back over there shortly after 9. Once there, it took a bit of effort to get back into everything, and get the bike situated. I'd gotten my directions on how to get to I-77 that morning, and Jim let me know where the one gas station on the way there was. I lubed the chain, checked the oil, circled around and headed out into the gray day with Jim wishing me a safe trip. I found the gas station at the intersection mentioned, and checked my tire pressure after filling the bike.

Two things which have amazed me on this trip are the fact that the bike appears to have used absolutely no oil, and the tires have not lost a pound from when I left my driveway the first day. That just doesn't seem right!

I pulled away from the gas station right around 10 a.m. facing my longest day of riding for the entire trip. It was 600 miles for me to get home, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to make it the entire way. Only way to find out was to try, though, and I put my best wheel forward. I didn't want to spend a lot of time stopping on Saturday, and figured I could get away with two fuel stops (needing to fill up once I got home), since I could go 200 miles on a tank. Pretty extreme, but possible. I did set a goal for a supper break to be at the Cracker Barrel in Jonesville, NC, across the street from the gas station where I'd first filled up and gotten grilled on my way out. I thought I could make it there by 5, and that would put me home before 9. My primary working number for the day was 10 hours to make it home.

The first glitch came when the rain started coming down in earnest about 125 miles from Solon. I knew I was running parallel to the vertical edge of a front passing through, and would be out of the worst of the rain for the trip. Jim had told me to be optimistic and pack the rain gear. Hmm. Jim's optimism got me a little wet :) I went through a few sprinkles here and there, but when it started coming down pretty good, I pulled over to layer up. And since I stopped, I went to the bathroom, got a drink, filled up the bike and put on my rain gear. The total stop time was probably 30 minutes, which was definitely not on my time table. Oh well.

Back on the road, the storm had pretty much passed on to the east of where I was, and of course, I saw no more rain beyond a sprinkle for the rest of the trip. Back on the highway, I made it out of Ohio before getting into the last bit of usage for my EZPass in West Virginia. I know I used at least $25 in tolls for this trip, because my account was automatically debited to bring the balance back up. As the roads went higher, the clouds came closer, and there was some fog along the way. Also, construction on a few bridges, but that was more of an inconvenience than anything major. I did find my ride along partner through the mountains...this time it was a Jaguar with Ohio plates. Started pacing with him several miles before Charleston, and went several miles along with him. Finally, at a rest area, both of us pulled off, but my stop was short...just fueling. I left within five minutes of stopping, never seeing the Jag leave the parking lot. This fuel stop was almost exactly halfway home for me, roughly 295 miles into the trip, and I was feeling pretty good. What made it even better, was around mile 320, we started descending out of the mountains, out of the clouds, out of the cold. I saw beautiful blue skies and felt like I was leaving polar land. There are two nice tunnels to go through on 77, and for a while, I found another road partner in a blue Silverado with Michigan State plates. Several dozen more miles passed, and now I was entering Virginia, with only another 60 some odd miles to hit the NC state line, and the Cracker Barrel 20 miles beyond that. Coming down from Fancy Gap, this time there wasn't heavy fog, like the trip north, but there were pretty heavy cross winds. Nothing too strong, but it did keep you on your toes.

I decided to fill up before heading to supper, and got my last tank across the street. When I went to leave the station, the bike wouldn't start. Same as before...not a whisper when I pressed the starter button. I got it off the center stand, rolled forward a few feet and put it in neutral. This time it fired right up. I think there might be something acting up with a safety switch somewhere. That'll give TJ something to look for :) I rode across the street to the Cracker Barrel and spent the next 10 minutes taking off layers and packing down the bike. It was warm in that sunshine. I hadn't been that warm in over a week and it was super nice. Another rider parked in the spot behind mine, and we walked in at the same time. His asked if I was on a trip, and I told him I was heading home, that I'd left Ohio that morning. He said, "That's an awful lot of miles for a little girl like you!" I'm not sure what standard he was using for the 'little girl' measurement, but I did agree with him it was a long trip. We parted ways inside, since I had to go to the restroom and blow my nose for the next few minutes. (Even as I'm typing this, three days after the fact, I'm still getting the last of the congestion out from that cold. Ugh.) I ordered my usual BLT, but was saddened by the lack of the bread & butter pickle slice on top. I guess they have to economize, too.

When I stopped, it was about 4:40, and after the fuel, the lightening of layers and eating supper, it was 5:30 when I got back on the road. Now the math was starting, to figure out how many more miles and hours before I got home. Charlotte is typically 90 minutes from my house, and I was close to 85 miles north of Charlotte at the Cracker Barrel. When I-77 passed over I-40 at Statesville, there were several hot air balloons floating around in the soon to be sunset, which was pretty cool. I passed over part of Lake Norman with the sun setting on my right, and when I finally came down to I-85, the afterglow of the sunset was just gorgeous. I thought it a rather nice way to be welcomed back home! Once the sun set, I started getting chilly, since I'd packed all my cold weather stuff up. I made it to the SC Welcome Center, about 35 miles south of Charlotte before I stopped to put on my heated vest and warmer gloves. And the bike wouldn't start again. Rolling forward didn't help this time, but putting it in neutral seemed the key. Back on the road, and I started counting off the landmarks that told me how close I was getting to home. The outlet stores and the giant peach in Gaffney. The interstate loop around Spartanburg. The exit for I-29 which will go through Greer. Pelham Road. I-385. I got off on the Woodruff Road exit so I could go home with a full tank of gas. Bike started right up after fueling, and I filtered back in to traffic to make my way across town.

The closer I got to home, the more unreal the whole trip seemed. When I left, it almost seemed impossible that I was going to get to Maine and back within 8 days. When I was coming home, it almost seemed impossible that I was coming home from actually having been to Maine and back in 8 days! I pulled into my driveway and parked beside my truck, reveling the sense of completion. I unhooked the clips on my luggage and hauled the saddlebags and tankbag in, walking through the back door at 8:39. The house was clean and waiting, just like I'd left it. I changed clothes quickly, went out and hopped in my truck, heading across town to see my mom and pick up my puppy dog. I got to her place around 9:10 and stayed until 10, enjoying just sitting still. Once 10 hit, though, I was ready to pack it in, and got Riles bundled up into my truck and drove back home. As for how I felt when I got back...see the first two sentences of today's entry :)

It's taken a few days of recuperation not to feel so drained. I'm still not 100%, but hope to be running near that in a few days. The weather's been a little icky here, so tomorrow will be my first day to ride to work since I've been back. And it will be 74 degrees out. Ahh.

Day 8 - And He Starts!

When I first woke up this morning, I had a nagging cough that occasionally was one of those nice wheezy kinds, and that convinced me I needed more sleeping. So I did, snuggled under my SpongeBob SquarePants quilt. Got up around 9 a.m., feeling better and without the bark. Once again, I began to zip the luggage back up, trying not to miss anything, and Pat stopped downstairs to ask if I'd like some tea then, and to ask what type of juice I'd like with breakfast. I gratefully took the tea, and shortly thereafter trundled upstairs to a breakfast of two eggs over hard (yolks broken, just the way I like them) and some thin sliced home fries from potatoes that had been grown in the garden out in front of the house. Toast. Cranberry juice. Tea. Nothing much was making me want to get on the road, except for thinking about miles yet to go, and securing my place for the night.

The big question, however, would be whether or not Mr. Crunchy would want to start up or not this morning. After breakfast was done, I figured it was time to find out, so we walked out to the garage and after I had to go back in to get my key, I flipped the switches, pulled levers, and pushed the starter button. The crank was immediate and strong! Hallelujah! It was very nice to hear that sound, and I was very thankful for that answered prayer! Once that was determined to be good, Pat helped me tote and load the luggage on the bike, and I put on my final layers before heading off. While yesterday had been almost balmy, this morning had dropped into the 30s, so layers were a definite. As was the case yesterday, there was rain in the early a.m., but upon my departure (at 10:45...egads!) the skies were gray, but dry. I didn't have definite directions for where I was going this evening, since I wasn't online the night before, so I rode as far as I could on my tank of gas, and stopped at the last service center on the Thruway before getting to PA. The center had WiFi, so I grabbed my netbook and tankbag, heading inside through the first of today's rain. It was a little before 1 p.m., and I figured I had three hours to go. I wrote out the steps to get to the branch in Solon, called one of my guys here to make sure he wouldn't be gone home if I got here after 4, sent a couple of emails, and packed everything back up. By now, it was a pretty steady rain, though still light, and I rolled up to the gas pumps to top off. Wiped down the bike as well I could before putting the tank bag back on, and headed out for the last 170 miles of the day. The rain came, the rain went. Wind came with some of the rain too (that was fun...) The skies stayed grim, and by the time I got to the outside of Cleveland, it was coming down in earnest. I wanted to shake my head like a dog to clear the face shield, but it wouldn't do much good. It was a good thing I didn't have too many steps to remember, because traffic was picking up. I got off on my exit, starting to go from memory from when I'd visited the branch three years ago for training. I rolled off the main road right behind a stretch Lincoln Navigator who was kind enough to let me pass. Turned left into the parking lot and walked back into the warehouse. After the initial hello, I went and rode the bike up into the warehouse, out of the rain, and proceeded to do the onion peel dance to get the layers off. The plant has an apartment upstairs, fully equipped, so I was able to get a hot shower right away, and change, ready to head out for supper with Jim and Sally, who are hosting me tonight.

Before leaving, however, I got to be a spectator in what must be the most bizarre card game known to man. Apparently, this group of guys started playing Gin around 15 years ago, but got bored with it after a while, and came up with at least a dozen variations, changing wild cards, point cards, requiring passes, skipping alternating numbers high and low, and whoever deals decides which variation they play. And hopes that they remember all of the variations which apply to that particular version (quad black, over under, triple double). At 5:30, I rode with Jim to his house seeing four or five does and fawns along the way (thankfully no encounters on the bike yet). He and Sally and I went to their favorite Mexican restaurant for a tasty supper and good flan for dessert, before coming back home around 8.

Right now, everything is drip drying, awaiting the last, loooong trip tomorrow. The goal is to be home tomorrow night. Which means I've got to ride 600 miles. I might get one of those 14th winds and it'll go by like a flash, or I might just sit by the side of the road and cry after 400 miles. We'll see how it goes. It's near midnight now, but I wanted to get today's update in here (which was delayed, due to wifi technicalities...who knew you could broadcast a signal, but not show the name so people could find it? Somehow, through a couple of phone calls and google searching, my hostess and I managed to stumble across the way to manually add their invisible wifi to my little 'puter. Thanks again, Sally!)

Nyquil is my friend tonight.

Day 7 - Vermont and the Corridor of Gold

Thursday was the departure from the Bed & Breakfast. There were a total of four other guests in the dining room this morning...a younger couple, possibly newlywed, and an older British couple on holiday (of whom, the husband had lost their ATM card the day before). I had a sympathetic hostess who brought out a large serving of French toast, along with Cabot's butter (locally made) and maple syrup (locally produced). My tasting receptors weren't totally under a cloud, and I was able to enjoy the meal, although to a limited degree. Once I'd finished breakfast, I headed back up to Room #3 at the top of the stairs, and gathered the last of my belongings together. The weather had started out pretty ugly before I got up, with rain coming down, but by the time I was heading out, it had died down, and, best of all, it was warm! I mean, it had to be in the 50s already, and I didn't need to wear my 50 gazillion layers. I headed down through Waterbury, CT, past the Ben & Jerry's factory, and a little further on past the Vermont Teddy Bear factory. Once I got to Burlington, VT, the skies had decided to be beautiful, so not only did I have great temps, I had blue skies! Further down the road, I was following along the route plotted out by Googlemaps and had my first curveball of the day. A lovely flashing traffic sign informed me the bridge I was planning to take to New York was closed. And I happened to be in the middle of nowhere.

Well, actually, it was a four way intersection with a state highway and a side road, and there was a local convenience store at the corner. I did a quick turn into their parking lot, planning to ask what my alternatives would be. I'm apparently not the first to stop in to ask, because there was a hand printed sign on the door, listing a ferry to the north, a ferry to the south and a road route to the south. I went inside anyway to ask a few more details, and I looked at a brochure advertising the ferry to the south. Once I took the Shoreham ferry, the road I'd need to follow after that was 9N, which would go around a lake and connect me eventually to I-87. The lady at the store said the ferry was 20 miles further south, so I got back on the road. A few more miles, and I saw some signs for the ferry, five miles down a side road. It was a nice road with a bunch of 90 degree turns in it, and nice high vistas over the neck of Lake Champlain, which is what the ferry was crossing.

When I got to the end of the road, there were six cars lined up beside a shed with a sign listing the prices, and stating the fares would be collected on board the ferry. I had another one of those hunches, and got off the bike to walk down to the front of the line and looked more closely at the sign. Cash only. Yeah, I should have known. Should have been carrying more cash on me. Wouldn't have had to ask where the nearest ATM machine was. And retrace my route back to the Mobil station five miles away. But I didn't, so I did. Once I'd gone back down the curvy for the third time, I got back in line the second time and waited for the ferry to creep back across. Once it docked, I rolled forward with the other cars, and got to be first in line in the row along the left side of the ferry. It was a brief 10 minute interlude, but it was nice to have the wind in my hair and watch the trees along the shoreline.

The other side of the river was Fort Ticonderoga, and I followed signs for 9N once I got back onto solid ground. The town on Ticonderoga had some really pretty trees along the route, but once 9N started winding along Lake George, it turned into the perfect motorcycle road. Nice sweeping curves, bordered by a beautiful lake on the left and overarched with every shade of gold, yellow, and amber there is. I stopped at one overlook for a picture, but mostly just enjoyed the ride. The temps were nice, the sun was out, the road was an utter delight. I knew it was going to make me later than originally anticipated for my arrival time that night, but I didn't care. It was worth it to have that one beautiful road.

After about 25 miles of hugging the shore, I took a side road which was signed for I-87, and headed back over to start logging the miles. Once I was on 87, it was about 65 miles before I got to I-90, also called the Thruway. I was starting to get close to the bottom of my fuel, but wanted to get past Albany, where 87 and 90 intersected, before stopping. Once I was heading west on 90, I'd already clocked 200 miles since my fueling in Stowe the night before. Sure enough, a sign came up on the right which listed the services available at the next stop. Starbucks, McDonalds, Mobil gas...everything I might want. And it was 15 miles away, with no exits before that.

I started doing the math....I've averaged 52 mpg, and my normal fuel range goes through 4.2 gallons, with reserve being available until 4.8 gallons. I'd not hit reserve yet, but knew it would be soon, and with .6 gallons, I should be able to go 30 miles after I had to switch to reserve, so I thought I could make it. Right when I got to the exit for the service center, the bike gave the signs of needing to go to reserve. Perfect! I switched to reserve, rolled up to the gas pumps and filled up. Since I went to the gas pump first, there was no way I could circle back to the stores for a bathroom break (all of the traffic was one way to the entrance back onto the Thruway, and the shops were before the pumps). I wasn't in dire need of a break, so I took off, planning to stop at the next center.

I left the station, and was accelerating onto the entrance ramp, when I mis-shifted, so that when I thought I was going into 2^nd gear, I was still in 1^st, and well up into the RPM range when I popped the clutch out. The bike jumped forward, and I shifted quickly up to about fourth gear, but something wasn't acting right. The bike started to surge and buck, losing and gaining power very unpredictably. At one point, I had the throttle all the way open, but I was only barely getting up to 60 mph. I noticed I was still in 4^th, so I went up to 6^th, but it was no better. I got over into the shoulder, and decided to run it as far as I could, and aim for the next exit, which was only a mile or so away (pretty handy, since the last exit had been 15 miles prior). I got off and headed into Amsterdam, NY, thinking to look for a PowerSports place and see if they could find anything wrong. However. Once I got into town, the bike calmed down, and started to behave. In the past, when it acted up, an overnight stop cured things, so I thought maybe just getting it calmed all the way down would sort things out. I looked for signs to get back onto the Thruway and decided to see how the bike would do. Went through the toll booth, accelerated up to speed, and never had a hiccup after that. Don't know if I got some kind of vapor lock or a bit of goo from the new gas, but whatever it was, it cleared out, and things were back to running good.

One more stop, and I put on rain gear for the last leg of the trip, because the clouds were starting to pile up. The last stop of the evening was to top off the gas tank, after 200 miles on the Thruway, and starting to head south. The rain started right about the time of that last stop for gas, and continued for the last 40 miles of the trip. As I knew would happen, I was now riding in the dark. Darkness doesn't lend itself well to reading directions which are tucked into the map pocket of the tank bag. When I was at the gas station, I memorized my next couple of turns. Once I got to the end of the steps I knew, I'd find a street light, read through the next few steps, and ride to the next light I'd need. Leapfrogging like this, I finally rolled up to Pat and Kathi's house around 7:15, hitting the kill switch in the driveway. The rain had finally relented to a heavy misting, and we got my luggage in pretty quickly. Pat offered their garage for my bike, and I rolled back to the street to be able to ride into the garage. When I went to start the bike up, nothing happened. No click, no whir, no nothing. The bike had done this a couple of times in Maine on Tuesday, but was only a temporary glitch, starting up on the second or third try. Thursday night, the bike was NOT going to start. Pat helped me roll the bike into the garage and I left it there, praying it was only an electrical glitch from the rain (it's happened before, you know...) Once inside, I caught up with Kathi, a former co-worker, while her husband was upstairs concocting a seafood marinara, along with salad and a garlic butter sauce for dipping torn bits of Italian bread into. At the end of a good meal, Pat got up and started to prepare dessert, which was a cobbler made with wild pears. I could taste the pear in that, and it was a nice finish to the evening (as was the small glass of a 12 year old single malt scotch). Finally, at 10:45, I pushed back from the table, about to fall asleep on my feet. I tried to get online for just a short update on the blog, but the dial up at the house wasn't happy with this website, and I had to just call it a night. Sleep came swiftly :)

Day 6 - Kancamagus to Stowe

It is a wonderful thing that today only required a ride of about 160 miles. Check-in isn't until 3 p.m. at the Ten Acres Lodge, where I'm spending the night, so I didn't plan to leave Brownfield until around 11 a.m., which would put me here around 2:30 if I didn't stop for anything.

The temps this morning were about 15 degrees warmer than yesterday, and the sun poked out pretty good, which always makes things better. I puttered, I moseyed, I meandered, and finally had things ready to hit the road around 11. When you pull out of Frank & Trina's driveway, you're on a hill with a nice vista of mountains in the distance. It's still a dirt road, though, so I couldn't enjoy the view too much, as I was making sure the bike didn't want to skitter around in the dirt and gravel.

Back on the main state road, I headed west into New Hampshire. I went through what seemed all of the Conways (East Conway, Center Conway, North Conway) and branched off onto Rt. 112, also known as the Kancamagus Highway. I'd been on it once, 10 years ago in early September, before the leaves had changed, and this time, I was just in time to be there after the leaves had changed. There were still some nice oranges and yellows along the highway, but the flanks of the mountains were mostly left to evergreen. The sun was nice and shiny on the eastern side of the pass, but as the elevation rose, so did the cloud level. I crested the pass at 2855 feet elevation and it was stinking cold. Right where the sign for the pass was, I pulled over to take a picture, and found out the batteries for my camera were toast. I knew there was a spare set of batteries in my tank bag, but they eluded my road side searching. I used my cell phone to snap a quick pic, but alas and alack, the ensuing 100 miles were without the benefit of photographic proof. I made one quick stop at the Vermont welcome center to blow my nose (desperately needed) and brace up for the last hour of riding. Breathing through my nose was pretty much not an option from the congestion I've now got, but thankfully, the changes in elevation weren't excruciating.

The clouds had settled in for good, so the latter part of the trip was chilly. For the second day in a row, I left off a layer I needed. I don't plan to be chilly tomorrow.

Following my Googlemaps directions got me so far today, but I ended up turning off a hair before my '13.8 miles' were up. I was sure I was heading in the right direction, so I punted. I knew they were located just south of the village of Stowe, and the website said there were signs pointing them out. Happily, all of the above was true and I pulled up at the house at 2:35. I came in to see if I could at least get the check-in paperwork done, and Frank (the husband of the couple who runs the place) was kind enough to let me get all settled in. He was heading out shortly, so my timing turned out to be pretty good. I lugged everything up to Room 3, which has vertical pine paneling and a squooshy looking blue duvet. I had to flake out on the bed for a few minutes before I could face going back out on the bike. I had a cup of tea this morning, with honey, but other than that, I had no appetite and ate nothing, so I was on fumes. The bike had a good run, too, and while not on fumes, I wanted to fill it up in preparation for tomorrow's departure.

There is a highway about four blocks down that takes you into Stowe the back way, and I saw a Shell station within a mile, and pulled over to top off. The station was a nice convenience store, and had a Subway in the back, so I decided to take the easy way out and grab a toasted sub. I felt like I was being a bit of a dud to go with a franchise meal, but it turns out to be a good thing, because I couldn't taste a bit of it. I'd have been bummed to get some tasty local food and not be able to tell!

Once I finished the sandwich, I headed right back to the Lodge and got into some comfy clothes. As an afterthought while packing, I threw in a pair of slippers for when I was at folks' houses. Turned out to be a dang good idea, and my tootsies are toasty right now. I played a little of the poor, pitiful me card, and asked if I could have a fire in the living room fireplace tonight , even though I'm the only guest in the main lodge. Frank felt sorry enough for me, he went ahead and built one up (see pic above), and it's been nice to flake out by the fire right now (still breathing through my mouth), but anticipating a Mucinex-D dosage that has my name on it for bed time.

Breakfast is served from 8:00 to 9:30 tomorrow morning, and I really hope I can taste the Vermont Maple syrup I plan on enjoying! I'm aiming to be on the road by 10, which will land me at Kathi's house tomorrow night by 5:30 p.m., Lord willing. I was hoping to go through the Adirondacks on my way over there, but that adds an hour to my travel time on what will probably seem like a really long day. The way I feel, I may even have to bypass going to Niagara Falls so I can go farther on Friday and shorten the ride for Saturday. That's a bummer, but there's no sense in running myself into the ground when I feel like horse puckey. I bet the waterfalls will be there in a few years if I want to come back. I'd bet a lot!

At any rate, that's it for tonight. I'm calling it early and might, just might, watch a little TV. (If that doesn't seem noteworthy to you, you probably don't know that I don't own a TV. And yes, I am an American.)

Day 5 - The Maine Event

Today was the day I had to take a leisurely road trip across the back roads of Maine. No luggage on the bike, no big deadlines, no rush, just meander around. Today was also the day I woke up with a sore throat and the general strength of a wet dishrag. You've known some strong dishrags? Well, la-dee-dah, aren't you special? I haven't, and I was having a bit of a time convincing myself to stay vertical this morning after breakfast. Not much breakfast (biscuit and honey, with hot tea) and not much interest in moving after that.

I'd wanted to get an early start so I could go by our branch in Oakland, see folks, and then head back down to Bucksport, and down Route 1 to see cool stuff before returning to the wilds of Brownfield. Seven-thirty rolled around, and I wasn't going anywhere. The fact that it was 29 degrees outside didn't help too much, either. Eight-thirty came, and I was starting to make progress. I finally rolled back down the driveway a tad before 9 a.m., directions tucked into my map pocket and feeling a little better. If it was 29 degrees at 7:30, it had probably warmed all the way up to 30 by the time I left. At one point, it was cold enough I could see my own breath fog inside my helmet, but my pinlock lens for the faceshield stayed clear as a bell. Yay, pinlock!

There is no fast way to get from west to east in the state of Maine. If it doesn't somehow follow I-95 that runs diagonal, you have to take eleventy seven different back roads to connect this to that to there. There were probably 17 steps for me to get 95 miles to the branch, and I was averaging about 40 miles per hour. It was pretty, for sure, but it was cloudy gray, it was cold, and it seemed to go forever. By the time I got on 95, after seeing one horrible sign, I decided to stop at the first Starbucks and defrost. About 15 miles down the road was a service center, and I stopped in there to warm up and regroup. Once I sat down, though, I wanted to lay down. I still wasn't feeling great and the warmth lulled me. Finally, after about 30 minutes, I got back out there, and finished the run to the branch (which, incidentally, was only 20 minutes away).

As crappy as I felt, though, it was all worth it to be able to meet a couple of guys at the branch who I've dealt with a lot and have developed a friendship beyond just calling up to fuss about work stuff. They were the main reason I was willing to come this far north, and I really enjoyed spending time with them. Charlie (who had the cabin I was originally going to use in Mariaville) took care of me when I got there, and heated up half of his homemade chicken and vegetable soup, and gave me some bread and dessert to go with it. As puny as I felt, that was probably the perfect thing for me to have. I'd asked Dan to plot out a route for me to get to the ocean and back to Brownfield, but when I sat across from him at his desk, I know my eyes had a glazed look. I had no interest it getting to the ocean...I wanted a pillow, a blanket, and a corner to hunker down in. I really just wanted to sit there for about three days, but that wasn't an option, and since Dan said he couldn't teleport me, I eventually did get back on the bike, around 3:30. By that time, the clouds had broken up and the sun was shining, giving a faint warmth, which was heartening. I got a couple of pictures with my guys and then headed back down the road. Now that I was finally underway, I was feeling better, and when the exit for Portland came up, I was sorely tempted to take it and head to the beach. However, my saner side prevailed, and I stuck to my route for Brownfield.

Coming back, I took a route that was simpler, and it seemed shorter, mainly because I'd traversed half of it on the way out, so I knew what to expect. The sun was starting to get lower, and I was riding in chilly shadows by the time I pulled up the driveway tonight, arriving at 5:45 p.m. It was heavenly to come in and have Trina offer me a cup of hot tea with milk and honey. My throat has gotten more unhappy as the day has progressed, and that was soothing. Supper tonight was awesome spaetzle with ham steaks and gravy, along with a funky squash with an edible skin. The ham was from a pig that had gone to the local steak maker last year, and it was very tasty. I was able to wash my one load of laundry, and most everything is packed for tomorrow. Thankfully, tomorrow has less than four hours of riding scheduled, so I may lollygag around here kind of late before heading to Stowe, VT. Once I get there, I'll probably just hole up for the night, trying to rest as much as I can. A couple upcoming days have a high mileage count, so I need to hurry up and feel better. Now.

Day 4 - Brownfield, ME

The doom and gloom of the weather forecasts all were for naught and today was a beautifully sunny day. Cold, yes, but even that was moderate. I planned on being the layer monster again, but when I was outside this morning, prepping the bike, it felt too nice to have to bother with so much, so I pared down a teensy bit. I was totally comfortable all day, and only turned on the grips and vest after I started chasing shadows in Maine.

First stop after leaving the house was to top off with gas, since I hadn't filled up since Philadelphia. One of my trip meters is acting squirrelly, so I had to change which one I use for measuring gas consumption. I got away about 15 minutes later than I'd planned, and the fuel stop added another 15, so I wasn't heading north until 9:30 this morning. I got onto Cross Island Parkway to get off of Long Island, and it's pretty hairy in its own right, but when you have a disabled vehicle blocking an entire lane, it gets teeth and claws. I have been surprised, however, with the traffic that I see and people merging in where there is NO room, I've only heard someone use his horn once, and that was in a rest area and not on the congested roads. About 30 minutes later, we finally got by the car that was broken down in the road, and things really picked up. I headed out on the Throg's Neck Bridge and picked up 295 to 695 to 95. Once again, my EZPass proved to be worth the bike's weight in gold. It will be interesting to see how much all of these tolls add up to be once I'm home.

I started working on my left handed picture taking skills today, lashing my camera to the handle of my tank bag. I took about 175 pictures, and might have 10 that are interesting. Occasionally, the selecter dial would get bumped, and I would think I was taking a picture, when I was actually set to video mode, so I've gotten a few random movies that don't make a lot of sense...deleted. I got to go on some cool bridges today and got a couple of shots there.

My first people stop was in Lakeville, MA, where I stopped off at our branch to meet folks that I've dealt with on the phone. Maria was excited to see me, and came out to meet Mr. Crunchy :) I got some good advice from Bruce and Tom (thanks, guys!) on where to get off in Boston for a quick photo op, and I even met one of the drivers in the branch, and answered a question he'd had about how to send a message from his truck (using PeopleNet). I grabbed a quick 'lunch' while at the branch, which consisted of a Zone bar and a Starbucks Doubleshot. I'd had a pretty good bite before leaving Ben and Sarah's in the morning, and since I figured I'd be up at Frank and Trina's by 6 p.m., this snack should tide me over. (I also chatted with one other lady at the branch, but can't think of her name!)

I stayed at the branch about an hour, and needed to head on out, because traffic in Boston would only be getting worse, and that was my next hurdle, 40 miles north. Maria walked me out and wished me well for the rest of the ride. She might have had a misgiving or two when I rode past the exit of the branch and had to circle around before finding my way out. I did manage to get back on 495 without mishap and started towards Boston.

About 13 miles outside of town, traffic started to utterly creep. It was slow and stop and slow and go and stop and slow. I saw a lane that was moving, and hopped into it. Turns out, it was heading off on a different road split, but I was able to stay moving along until a little before the point of no return, and then hopped back over onto 93. Again it was slow and go, but not as bad as it had been. Once it got closer to the city, it actually opened up pretty well, but the lanes going out of the city looked positively hideous. I took the exit prescribed by the guys at the branch and rode around some in the north end. It reminded me a lot of Manhattan...tight, twisty roads crawling with pedestrian traffic. I wandered my way over to part of the harbor and took a couple of shots before trying to find my way back where I'd gotten off 93. I went right back to within a block of where I'd turned off and got back on 93, going over another pretty cool bridge. From there, I might have had one more quick bit of congestion, but the worst was definitely past.

I rode for a few more miles, and then stopped for gas at Wakefield, MA, at 4:15 p.m. My goal was to be in by 6 p.m. that night, and I had about 115 miles to go. I thought I'd be pretty close, and headed back on the road. Just past the New Hampshire border, I did stop at the welcome center to use the facilities and change out the pinlock lens on my faceshield. The sun was starting to set, and I didn't want to get darked on with a dark shield. I'd also used up all of my battery juice in the camera, so I switched out batteries then as well. Once I got back on the bike, it was time for the final push into Maine (with a cool border bridge). It wasn't long before I was taking the exit off 95 at Saco and starting to find the country roads. All of the route was through pretty heavily wooded areas, and as the sun sank lower, my eyes started opening wider to adjust.

The road itself was pretty horrible, actually. It had a high crown in the middle, lots of places with frost heave and a good many tar snakes. Add darkness to that, combined with annoying headlights behind, and it makes for a tense ride. Make two wrong turns and things get even better. For a final touch, have the final approach road be a mix of dirt with gravel, and no lights to show where houses were sitting far off the road, and it makes for a fun night altogether! I did manage to make out the small sign with the house number and last name that was nailed to a tree at the foot of Frank and Trina's driveway, and made it up the last bit of gravelly road, turning the bike off at 7:30 p.m. Just a touch later than I'd planned :)

However, all's well that ends well, and I had a warm welcome and a bowl of some fabulous black bean soup, topped off with a nice piece of spice cake. I'm hoping to get out early tomorrow and head up to our branch in Oakland to see the boys up there, before heading to the coast and meandering my way back over here again tomorrow night. Before dark.

Day 3 - Good Times in New Hyde Park

Several years ago, there was a soon-to-be-married seminary student who started attending Woodruff Road Presbyterian Church (where I'm a member), and within a few months of him starting school, he flew out to Washington state to marry his love (after a storybook meeting and courtship) and bring her back to South Carolina. Ben is one of the most intense and passionate people I know, especially when it comes to his love for God and for his flock. Sarah is a perfect mate for him, his calm harbor and helpmate and I became good friends with both of them during his seminary stay. The day I got the call from a temp agency to start my job with Guardian was the same day I was helping Ben and Sarah pack up from their small duplex apartment for them to move back up to New York state (where Ben hails from) and start working at a church in New Hyde Park, NY. In the four and a half years since they've moved, I've seen them once, when they came in to town for a short visit. When they moved, they had two young children (under age 3), and at the time of their quickie visit, she was shortly due to give birth to child #3.

In the intervening years, the children have all grown quite a bit, and one of the delights of this weekend, beyond getting to meet back up with Ben and Sarah (who, incidentally have had a jam packed schedule) is to get to know the kids. They are each unique....and thrilled with my digital camera :) I never thought about it, but it's great to have one when the kids keep asking if they can take a picture. Katie took a picture of Andrew and Kenton. Kenton took a picture of Katie and Andrew, and Andrew took a picture of Katie and Kenton. I believe that could have gone on for hours...and no film wasted! I did get all three of them together for a great shot, and there was a surprise shot that Katie took by doing a self portrait, holding the camera out at arm's length and aiming it back at her and Andrew. Kenton wanted me to get a shot of Herbert, his elephant. And a picture of his sippy cup.

Little did I know at the time I asked to stop in, this is a full house right now. Sarah's sister "Auntie Becca" and two of her cousins (another Sarah, and Jenna) are also living here presently, so the little house you saw with the bike in front is currently housing six adults and three kiddos. Surprisingly, it's a fairly well ordered chaos (although poor Ben is surrounded by females!), and I feel a high honor to have been allowed a bedroom all to myself. The weather today was about a picture perfect definition of miserable. It was raw, rainy, windy and k-o-l-d (perfectly shown in the background of this picture of one of the ritziest McDonald's I've ever seen, located in Garden City). I was soooo thankful to be riding in their minivan to church this morning, enjoying the heat. At church this morning, I met Tarayn who'd been a bridesmaid with me in a mutual friend's wedding...haven't seen her since Amanda got married, but it was nice to have that common link. She is due to have her second son any day now...just so long as it is after the Brad Paisley concert on Wednesday. She's one of a small minority of country music listeners up here. Sarah said there's not even a country music station around here, which is a sad thing indeed!

Ben preached this evening from I Samuel 3 about Samuel's call, and communion was served afterwards...the church has a very close-knit feel to it. It's not a large congregation, but I believe it is a close family. I enjoyed talking with several members while I was there, and was very warmly welcomed. This afternoon did afford the blissful Sunday afternoon nap, so I'm starting to be able to think about getting back on the road with a sense of being refreshed. The weather is moving out of my way (praise God!) and temps are staying above freezing (daytime, anyway). I'm going to try to get some decent shots...tomorrow is a lot of 'gotta get there' riding, but Tuesday through Thursday should have some nice rides ahead.

Day 2 - Rain, Rain, Go Away!

It was a dark and stormy day.

Among other things.

Today was the day I pulled out the bear ammo, and prepared for the worst. Good thing, too, 'cause there's bear in them there woods. When I left Hagerstown, it was 39 degrees outside with a forecast for rain possibly mixed with snow. I lingered over my coffee this morning, enjoying the warmth, and my state of dryness and mobility.

I left off the top several layers of my gear when I was going back and forth from the house to load the bike, and when it was time to get everything on, I took my arms full of clothes out to the garage and began the process. At the height, I was wearing twenty one separate items (including helmet and boots). When I was about to put my helmet on, I realized my ear plugs were still zipped into my jacket pocket. Which was under my rain jacket. And I was wearing gloves that were bulky. Sigh. Sharon came to my aid, however, and was able to rescue them for me, and I headed out shortly after that, following her van to Interstate 70 for my next leg.

First exit had a Shell station so I got off to fill up and put on my last layer, which was a pair of rubber gloves to go over my riding gloves (think of oversized dishwashing gloves). They are totally waterproof and super cheap...easy to replace. Not so easy to put on when you're already wearing bulky gloves, however. I got the first one on ok, but when it came time to pull the second one on, I was having problems pulling the cuff over the sleeve of my jacket, so I went to the guy filling up his SUV at the next pump and asked if he'd pull the cuff up for me. He looked somewhat askance, but did comply. After that, I headed out on the road. My 21 layers kept me warm enough, I didn't need my heated vest at all, although I did crank up the grips. And it was raining. Never a blinding downpour, thankfully, but it rained steadily until just south of Philadelphia. Traffic was actually pretty good. It moved quite well, and it seemed that folks were paying attention pretty often...I'd see a turn signal get activated by someone who would be coming in front of me, and then it would go off, and they'd stay in their lane while I passed.

With as nasty as the weather was, and as layered up as I was, I was singing hallelujah the first time I went through a toll booth and the sign said “EZPass Toll Paid.” I decided to get an EZPass for this trip after I had to deal with multiple tolls in Chicago back in May, and I found out today the convenience of having one is practically indescribable. My list of the 'best idea ever' for this trip keeps changing as the trip progresses. First it was the grips. Then it was the vest. Now it's the EZ Pass. Without any one of those, this trip would have been somewhere in the miserable range.

I only wanted to stop once between Hagerstown and New Hyde Park, which is a 300 mile trip, so I waited until past Philadelphia to stop for fuel. If I had a helmet camera, that would have gone onto my 'good idea' list, too (though its absence does not make the trip miserable). The thing I remember about Philadelphia are the bridges. I think today was the first time I've been on a double decker where traffic was moving in opposite directions on different levels. The other happy thing about Philadelphia was the fact that I actually saw my shadow on the ground. I looked up and saw bits of blue sky peering through the cloud shreds that were being blown around. When I stopped for fuel, I stood outside enjoying the radiant heat of the sun on my black clothes. I'm not sure what the temp was there, but when a cop walked past me standing by the bike, he asked if I wasn't freezing. I told him I felt fine, and even though I had taken off about four layers at that point, I still was quite protected.

I did have a cartoon moment at the gas station, however, when I took off my outer glove covers. The first one came off, and I noticed my inner leather riding glove was soaked on the outside. Out of curiosity, I held the rubber glove up by the fingertips and about a quarter cup of water poured out of it. Same with the other glove. Apparently, I should have tucked the end of their gauntlets under my rain coat cuffs to avoid having water run down into the gloves from my sleeves. I thought the wind from interstate travel would have kept the water out of the gloves. I thought wrong.

Random guy Danny was my bike conversationalist at the gas station today. He asked where I was riding (if I didn't mind telling him), where I was from, if I'd been riding long. It was about a 10 minute chat...he said he'd ridden for many years, but didn't have a bike any more. He admired the color of the bike, which gave him points in my book :)

From there, I called Sarah, my hostess for the night, to let her know how far out I was (it was 1:30 at this point) and check the weather in New York. When I left the station, I put the rubber glove covers into my luggage and just left my regular gloves on, but left the rest of my layers intact. When I got into New Jersey, the turnpike was hopping right along and my biggest concern was just staying out of the way. I had printed out google directions to my house for the night, and the fun started, as I had to start reading what my roads and turns were going to be while paying attention to the roads and traffic around me. One of the coolest parts of the ride this afternoon was seeing the Manhattan skyline (first time I've seen it in person since 9/11 ), and getting to go across the Verrazano Bridge. With only one stop, my pictures were limited again today. The first 200 miles weren't anything much to see anyway ((rain, fog, more rain), but coming into New York had some coolio stuff. The skies did cloud back up after I left the gas station, but I didn't see any more rain north of Philadelphia.

Once I made it to my haven for the night, I was glad to change into jeans and a sweater, and evaluate how well my rain gear did. Surprisingly enough, the jacket did fabulously, but the pants (which feel bomb proof) got wet through the sides. However, the advantage to wearing a bazillion layers is that if the top one or two get wet, the bottom ones still stay dry, which makes for a good ride.

If anything, I'm sure I made several people happy today, as they saw me riding along in the rain. They got to appreciate the fact that they were warm, comfortable and dry in their automobiles as they cruised on past the chick on the bike. I'm glad tomorrow is Sunday. 'Twill be a dearly valued day of rest!

Day 1 - The Little Ninja That Could

All's well in the land of motorcycle road trips at the end of the first day. I'm in Hagerstown, MD, at the home of Greg and Sharon who have been wonderful hosts and I'm filling this in before hitting the hay.

The alarm went off this morning at some unearthly hour (6 a.m.) and I wasn't terribly pleased, since I'd had the late night before. However, I knew I had to start somewhere, so I finally rolled out of bed about 6:20 and started the last minute rituals. Had my list and was checking everything off...unplug space heaters, pack up the computer and charger, turn off water at the dripping kitchen sink faucet, check tire pressure. Started to layer up for the ride...biker shorts, long underwear, quilted liner, riding pants, undershirt, long sleeved shirt, quilted liner and jacket. Going back and forth from the bike to the house got me a little overheated with the layers I had, so I initially packed my electric vest on the back under the bungee net (wonderful invention...give the guy a raise!) I had to get gas before heading out, and once I took care of that, it was just after 8 a.m. when I was going north on I-85 out of Greenville.

I noticed that, while I didn't need the vest on while packing the bike, I was going to need it for riding, and made it about 30 miles before I pulled off at a rest area to put that next layer on. While there, I did an inter-trip inspection for load securement (per FMCSA rules, of course) and it all looked good. One guy walking by asked where I was heading and he did a double take when I told him my eventual destination was Maine. Another guy (truck driver) came over and talked for a minute. Said he had a BMW that had larger fairings that made for nice touring. When he found out my northern destination, he said it looked like I had good gear...said it would be nice if I had some heated stuff I could plug in to the bike, and I picked up the ends that connected for my vest, and said, "Like these?" He seemed surprised, that I'd have those. I was thinking later that a sport bike with heated handgrips does seem somewhat of an anomaly. Sport-touring...yeah. But Mr. Crunchy is rather jack legged in the touring department.

Once I got on the road with the vest on, I made it up through Charlotte (where I did see some sunshine and a bit of blue sky, albeit briefly), and didn't stop until I got to Jonesville, NC. There, I stopped for fuel, and for a stretch/bathroom/water break. While I was walking up to the store, a guy was walking over to intercept me and asked (paraphrased) what was a woman like me doing riding out there all alone? He was the chatty type, and asked where I was coming from, where I was going, if that was my only bike, and how long I'd been riding...all before I got to the entrance to the store. When I came out of the restroom and bought a water, he was at the cash register in front of me, and pretty much just wished me a good trip. I walked back out to the bike, and stood there, drinking the water. He walked back over, with an intro something like, "You're going to get tired of me bugging you, but..." and proceeded to ask more about the bike, and tell me about his bikes (FZ1, R6 and a Sportster) and even had a picture on his cell phone of him on a track day, where he definitely got a knee down. Said he'd run a ZX-14 into a tree and broke 10 bones and ended up with a blood clot in his lung. His brother had (or still has?) a Connie, and his old girlfriend started with a GS500 he bought her ("that thing wouldn't pull a greased string") and moved up to a 2000 SV650. Had an interesting take on why some guys didn't like to have their wives ride along with them. He drives truck and was hauling some wood for Weyerhauser. He gave me his card and said if I ever wanted to meet up to ride, he'd be glad to, although he doubted I would call. I gave him my card with the blog address, so if you're reading this, Al, hope you enjoy :)

Once I got back on the road, I realized I hadn't had a snack that I'd intended to while at the gas station, and I could tell. Hadn't had breakfast either (not the best plan). I did, however, have the real, live Starbucks doubleshot that I like, so there was at least some sugar and caffeine floating around in me. Once I crossed into Virginia, I headed up a mountain pretty much into a cloud. Many times there were pictures I wish I could have taken from the bike, but it wasn't possible. One of those would have been the sign that said "Dense Fog Area" with the background of a swirling gray mass that had cars disappearing into it.

Rain-wise, I only had a very few incidents where my shield would get fuzzy with the micro specks of rain, but would clear when I turned my head left and right. The trees in NC were starting to turn, and in Virginia there was everything from green leaves, to fluorescent oranges, to nekkid branches. I got some pictures, but will have to upload them later, since I'm not on my own computer tonight.

I stopped in Roanoke at a Cracker Barrel for lunch, and it was a good break to sit and get warm and get fed, both of which I needed. Once I got back on the road (around 2), I realized my schedule was getting really tight. I'd told Sharon I would be in Inwood at 5 p.m., and after my fuel stop past Roanoke, I was down to the last 145 miles. I decided to push through without any more stops so I could hone my time. I don't have a clock on the bike and couldn't see my watch, and I knew I was running later than I wanted. When I finally got to the branch, I had to call in so the gate could be opened, and I looked at the time on my phone. I made it there at 5:03. Yee haw!

After a quick break at the branch, I followed Sharon home to Hagerstown, MD, and got to meet her husband Greg and their rather hyper Westie named Daisy. Dinner was at Barefoot Bernie's, and was quite yummy with Maryland crab specialties. Both Sharon and Greg are early to bed types, so by 9 p.m., they were heading downstairs to their room and I was going to do battle with the tangles in my hair. I got a good, hot bath in tonight, which makes me feel almost human again.

I have to say, heated gear rocks my world. There is no way this trip could happen without the vest and grips on the bike. I wouldn't mind having the pants, either, but I doubt my alternator could handle the load. Tomorrow will be a run up to New Hyde Park, New York, and the rain that didn't show up today might make an appearance then. I'm taking it one day at a time, and right now, this day is done.