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Lost post
I had a nice post all written and I hit the back button by accident. I'm just too tired to re-write it. I'm in North Hampton, NH, safe and sound. I rode from Moncton, New Brunswick to Bar Harbor yesterday and from there to North Hampton, NH. I got my bike and oil change and a chain lube. I'm heading into Massachusetts tomorrow.
Posted 12:08 AM, Aug 16, 2008 by maat1976
Pictou to Moncton, New Brunswick
I woke up in Pictou (pik-TOE) and chatted for a bit with Anne, the owner of the hostel I stayed in there. She and her daughter Natalie were fun and told me about the long (and I mean LONG) roadtrips they had taken. After a coffee, I eagerly got on the road. It was beautiful out when I left but soon enough I was having to hide out in a Tim Horton's for shelter. Rain, rain, rain. More rain. But I couldn't hide out forever, so as soon as it became less offensive, I got back on the road. If it's just misting, rain is no big deal. It's when it's pissing down on me that I get cranky and miserable. I rode along something called the Glooscap Trail, which is where the Mi'kmaw Indians were originally located. This area was some of the most isolated I've been through yet, which is unusual because of its proximity to the water. Generally, anytime you are inland here in NS, it's barren and sparsely populated. But in this case, as I drove along the Bay of Fundy, it was really really rural. The water and the earth in this area are high in iron, so are very red in color. They must use the dirt to make their roads because the roads are paved in a red-ish color as well. Red soil, red roads, and the red water in the Bay of Fundy looks like a giant vat of tomato juice. Another thing that is interesting is the Bay of Fundy itself. It's known for the highest tides in the world - in some places 45 feet different in 6 hours. Everywhere you look along the road, you can see where the tides come in and wash over the land and then go out again. I continued riding and checking my fuel. It is so important to keep on eye on fuel in these areas... Finally, I started to head to Kingsport, where I would be staying with Phillip, Jan, and Brenda for the night. Phillip is on ADVrider and had hosted Anthony, who I met a few days prior. Anthony had suggested I get in touch with them so I could throw a tent in their yard. On my way to Kingsport, I rode up to Scot's Bay, which is a peninsula that jets out into the Bay of Fundy. Ups and downs and twisties. Nothing too challenging, which is good because it was the end of the day and starting to look like rain again. A nice ride up, not such a nice ride down.... It started to POUR as I came back. Phillip was expecting me around 5 but it was so nasty out that I decided to chance it and show up a little early. I was drenched by the time I got there, and he had the garage open and waiting for me. I sat down, dried off, and had a blueberry beer. I love the blueberry beer up here in Nova Scotia and Maine. They serve it with frozen blueberries in the bottom, which tints the beer and they float up one by one so you can munch on them. Phillip's mother, Brenda, was visiting from Toronto, and she cooked some awesome chicken and rice. Oh home cooked food...how good you are when it's been a long day!!! We drank some wine, talked about health insurance and the upcoming presidential election. Good times. In the AM, I hopped back on the bike for another day on the road. I rode through beautiful grasslands and farms. The colors I was encountering were so bright they were almost primary colors. The sky was intense blue, the grass an unreal green, and wheat in the fields was bright yellow. Throw in a few red farmhouses and tractors and it looked like a paint-by-number scene. I rode along Route 2, to Parresboro, which is known for its rocks and gems. When I rode into the town, my hands were getting stiff so I decided it was time for lunch at a little place called the Bare Bones cafe. The chef came out and was telling me how challenging the next part of the road was on a bike. The "mini Cabot Trail" they call it. At any other time, this would have been fun, but it was getting late and I needed to get into New Brunswick before dark. While I was glad he warned me, I was disappointed in knowing I didn't have time to spare on some nice hardcore roads. I got closer to the New Brunswick border and the wind began to be unbearable. I had hoped to make it to Fredericton but after a few miles on the highway and nearly being blown off my bike, I realized "secondary highway" sounded a lot more appealling. I called up a B&B in Moncton, made a reservation and fought to stay on the bike until I could get to the secondary highway. At times I had to lean fully into the wind to stay upright. Then the wind would subside and I'd have to readjust instantly. It was very unnerving to see the front half of my bike dancing all around the road. I arrived safely in Moncton and checked in at the Downtown Bed and Breakfast. The owner must have seen the look on my face and told me to go rest for a bit. I didn't realize how dopey I had become until I sat still for 5 minutes and could barely form a thought. I've now slept like a log, and am gearing up for a LONG day on the bike. I am shooting for Bangor, ME with hopes I make it to Augusta. We'll see. I'm off for another day!!!!
Posted 11:12 AM, Aug 14, 2008 by maat1976
Halifax to Cape Breton Island to Pictou
So, I lost track of days. Beemie was given a fairly clean bill of health on my second day in Halifax. Being that not much is happening in Halifax, I looked to amuse myself with my book back at the hostel, which turned out to be a fortuitous thing to have done. While I was out locking up my bike, a red KLR rode past twice. He wound up parking right next to my Beemie and coming in. And that's how I met Anthony from Montreal, who would become my riding partner for the next few days. We exchanged our ride stories, and it turned out we were both heading in the same direction - The Cabot Trail on Cape Breton Island. The Cabot Trail is reknowned for its stunning beauty and challenging twisties. So, after being extremely independent and introverted for the last 7 days, I became extroverted when someone else was always around. It's interesting how I ride differently with someone as opposed to alone. I find that I struggle when there is someone else either in front of me or following that I need to keep track of. Either I am going to slow and dragging them back or I am not paying enough attention to where they are and riding ahead. It was an accomodation we both made to actually have someone to talk to. Anyway, being Anthony was on a KLR, I didn't have to worry he was going to be a speed demon. I've been on a KLR and there is nothing speedy about them. I digress. So, we (so weird to say "we" as opposed to "I") headed north to Waycocomagh, at the bottom of the Cabot Trail. On our way, it rained. And rained. And rained. It was pretty miserable riding overall. Regardless, after warming up at a stereotypical Tim Horton's, we finished up the last leg to the campground. Waycocomagh's campground was actually pretty swank (AWESOME showers) and we were given a site on a terraced grassy knoll. Being a true Montrealer (I don't know what the right word is), my new friend bought a baguette, brie, apples, and two mini bottles of red wine. I would have been happy with an apple, but I guess I'm just not as cultured... I ate my food. I drank my wine. I slept like a freakin log. A LOG. I don't think I've been that dog tired in ages. The next morning I woke up, packed up, and we started out on the Cabot Trail. Some days you just aren't right on the bike. That was that day. I couldn't seem to get anything right. I kept losing my keys or struggling with the kickstand, or something. What a bad day to be "off". Little did I know we were going to encounter some serious, serious, riding. We got on the CT and next thing you know, it starts pouring. We start to ascend major grade hills in combination with hairpin turns, with the trifeca of 20 ft visability fog. The logical thing to do would have been to pull off and wait. Unfortunately there was no shoulder, but a 500 foot drop to the right. It would have been more dangerous to stop. Just as I'm thinking about this dilemma, a bus comes flying through the fog at us. I nearly had to change my drawers. This continues until we get to the official "entrance" of Cape Breton Park. We stopped to buy our entrance fees and I had to sit for a minute to make sure I wasn't going to vomit in my helmet from nerves. I don't think I have ever concentrated like this on a task, EVER. It took every ounce of processing power my little noggin had left at that point. Luckily I made it. Finally, after hours of rainy torture, the sun begins to shine. Anthony pulled over in an area called Green Cove for a brief rest and leg stretch. We scrambled out onto the rocks and we see a few people pointing and yelling. There was a pilot whale just off the rocks!!! He seems to be playing in the cove, breaching and taking it easy. We, the tourists, all sat with baited breath to see where he'd pop up again. You almost needed to look in one spot and use your peripheral vision to scan for movement that isn't a wave. After a bit, we moved on. The sun was starting to fade and we wanted to get to the hostel before dark. As we hauled to the hostel, I saw a fox on the side of the road, eyes flashing in the light. He was beautiful. But, it wasn't over. Just as we pass the fox, Anthony hits his brakes and I look around for the reason.... MOOSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tons of them. Little ones, big ones, all munching on leaves and not much caring about the two noisy bikes going by. I didn't have any high expectations of really seeing a moose, but they were super cool and way cuter than I expected. In this case, I did brake for moose, though I don't think my life was in any danger. :) We finally get to our hostel, only to find out its packed solid. Earlier in the day Anthony has suggested we call and I poo-poo'ed the idea. Bad move. We wound up having to take beds in their "overflow building" - a caravan, otherwise known as a campervan. ICK ICK ICK. The best part of the whole scenario was that the caravan was totally white trashy. We looked like rednecks hopping in and out with our bikes parked on the grass out front. Nothing but the best for this girl!!! We packed up in the AM and started the last leg of the Cabot Trail, which was down the west coast. The road was challenging and dramatic. VERY cool riding. Being it was dry, I could enjoy the difficulty of the road and more than once I wished I was on my lil nimble Ninja, and not loaded on top heavy Beemie. We finally get down to the bottom of the Trail, Anthony heads east to the ferry to Newfoundland and I headed west to Pictou, where I am now. It was nice after a few days to have the company of a similarly minded rider to BS with, but then be off again on my own. I'm refreshed and looking forward to the days ahead.
Posted 1:54 AM, Aug 12, 2008 by maat1976
Seventh Day - Kejimkujik, Nova Scotia to Halifax
I woke up in one piece. No alien probing dreams or bear attacks. What I did wake up to a few times in the night, was a howling like I had never heard before. I'd heard a tasmanian devil once in, go figure, Tasmania. That was a howl. This was further off, and deeper. It sounded like a wolf calling to another wolf. Wow, I was badass- I stayed in a campground that has WOLVES! I packed up my tent, proud to have survived the night, and to have stayed dry through another heavy rainstorm. Success. I had read that this campground was reknowned for its beach in the morning, so I decided to check it out. I took the extremely brief walk to the beach and sat down on a rock to enjoy the mysterious and cloudy morning. Then I heard them. I can't even replicate the noise. They lay in the middle of the water, lurching around on a rock. Freaking seals. That's what I heard. No wolves, but seals. I was deflated. Just to be sure though, I stopped at the ranger station and asked what noises I might have heard at night and the woman said anything odd was definitely the seals. Big let down. While I am on wildlife- seals are cool, but not as cool as wolves. I have encountered a lot of other wildlife since entering Canada. In the same campground I saw a beaver saunter across the road with his tail flopping behind him, only to recall the beer commercial that stated "and the beaver is a truly noble creature. I've encountered more dead porcupines that I can shake a stick at and each time I've wondered if their quills would puncture my tires. Yesterday I even saw a turtle crossing the road. He was doomed, as it was a fairly major highway and traffic was against him. I'm hoping to see a moose, preferrably while I'm NOT on the bike. Moving on from the campground, I rode north on Route 3, the scenic route. I stopped in Lunenburg and enjoyed their little town of very German type buildings. I also rode through Mahone Bay, and the LaHave Islands. The pinnacle of the day was Peggy's Cove. I finally got to see a lighthouse, and it was in a beautiful location. While there, I got into a discussion with an older, longer haired biker dude about the virtues of both the BMW F650GS and the Suzuki V-Strom 650. He had borrow a V-Strom for the day and was loving it. I said they were both super cool bikes and he'd be happy with either. I finished up the day polishing off some work, writing these blog posts, and posting some photos. Tomorrow I visit the mechanic and get his opinion on whether or not I ought to continue on or not. Fingers crossed!!!!
Posted 2:37 AM, Aug 08, 2008 by maat1976
Sixth Day - Bar Harbor, ME to Kejimkujik, Nova Scotia
I woke up early, and got my gear together for the ferry ride to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. While on the ferry, I cat napped, read more of The Fountainhead, and sat painfully through Batman Begins. At one point I wandered back to the rear of the boat and watched the its wake. Something about the water behind us and the lack of a plan rekindled the passion I once had for travel. My last trip (Spain) pretty much beat out of me the last bit of interest I had for anywhere in Europe (other than Scotland of course). Because of the lack of chicken buses on this trip I had limited expectations for this trip of a non-exotic variety. As I rolled into Canada, I realized I needed SOME sort of plan. Where was I going to go? I decided to head out on Route 1, the coastal scenic road to Annapolis Royal. The woman at the tourism board assured me it was ninety minutes away and away I went. An hour later I still hadn't seen any signs saying Annapolis Royal, 40 k or anything like that and I was starting to run low on fuel. Luckiy I ran across a gas station and asked the woman running it how far away I was from my destination. 90 min longer, on the highway!!!! UGH!!!!!!! I unhappily hopped on the highway and hauled ass for another hour plus. This particular road must have been designed by a zen buddhist because the only thing to do is contemplate your navel the whole time. Nothing to look at at all. Finally, I arrived at Annapolis Royal, the "Royal City of Anne". As I sat down to figure out why exactly I was here, an older guy with a dog yells out, "if only I had my camera this would be a great photo!". I guess I was that exciting of a sight. He walks up to me and gives me advice on what I should do in town. Apparently, it would be "shame on me" if I missed the Habitation, which was 15 minutes outside of town. I followed his advice and made my way out of town. Enroute I stopped at the local power generating plant which is unique because it is done using tidal power. It also makes this gross yellowish foam at the outlet of the water, but at least its a clean power source. I then turned onto the country road that lead to my destination, the Habitation. The road itself was worth the trek. Totally beautiful country road with flowers and nice curves. I finally arrive and am greeted by a young man wearing a beaver felt hat, linen shirt, wool pants and socks, and a pair of "sabots" (= wooden clogs). This guy, other from having the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen on anyone in the flesh (think the Afghan girl from the Nat'l Geo cover), also likes to talk. And talk. And talk. He chewed my ear off with more 4th grade Canadian history than I could digest. But it was good. I learned about beaver felt hats (they are so waterproof because of microscopic hooks), the entomology of the word "sabotage" (the french would throw their sabots into machines to wreck the machines), the source of the phrase "dead as a door nail" (rich people would have more nails put int their doors to show how they could afford to have the blacksmith make them), and many other interesting trivia tidbits. After prying myself loose, I rode back through town and literally through the middle of Nova Scotia. It was another two hours along a densely forested road to the Kejimkujik Adjunct area. I stopped once to get gas and I needed to haul it to get there before they closed- at 7pm!!! Party town, if you can call it a town. I did wind up getting gas and making to my final destination for the night, the Thomas Raddall campground, which I had heard rave reviews for. When I asked the girl working there which site she recommended, she put me in the most secluded one and brushed off my question concerning the "Bear Safety" brochure hanging on the wall. While nice, I was by myself and a little freaked out by being SO alone. I might have had alien abduction / ET nightmares in places like this, like at the first campground. Regardless, I took it. I pitched my tent, and got cozy for the night. I fell asleep in seconds.
Posted 2:14 AM, Aug 08, 2008 by maat1976
Fifth Day - Bar Harbor, ME
On my fifth day, I rested. Sort of. I had decided to spend an extra day in Bar Harbor so I could explore Acadia National Park. I wasn't sure if I wanted to risk riding into the park because the loop road is one way, and once you're in, you're in. If the bike broke down, I'd be in for a hell of a time getting it out. I decided to roll the dice. I entered the park, and drove up Cadillac Mountain. There are a few lookouts, and as I drove through the swamped parking lot, my bike misbehaved again. Antifreeze everywhere. No fun. So I pull off the plastics and feed her a little water. She calms down and I am able to move on. I spent the rest of the early day enjoying the park, and moving on to the cafes of Bar Harbor. Bar Harbor is a tourist town, but they do it well. It's touristy, but not nauseatingly so. Well, maybe a little. There are still a few decent places to hang out, get normal food, and relax. I went in search of wifi so I could shoot off my grad class presentation. When I walked up to the tourist info building where the guy on duty informed me that the park area had wifi, and if I needed to plug in for power to find a lamp post with a plug. How civilized! If only it were that easy everywhere. I did my nightclass presentation successfully and got myself ready for the ferry ride the next day to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia.
Posted 1:19 AM, Aug 08, 2008 by maat1976
Fourth Day - Brunswick to Bar Harbor, ME
So, yeah. It was bound to happen. I had a CRAPPY day. It doesn't get much crappier. I woke up in Brunswick and headed north on scenic Route 1. I knew I had a long ride to Bar Harbor but I didn't realize how long. I looked at the map and decided to detour down a few of the peninsulas that were recommended to me by the tourist info center in Bath. I stopped at Reid State Park for some breath taking views and empty beaches. Well, empty except for the mosquitos. They feasted on the only area on me that wasn't covered with moto gear. My face. Yes, they bit me all around my face. I look like I have chicken pox. However, being they didn't puff up and itch until later in the day, it was alright. I moved on. I turned down Route 130 to a town called Damariscotta, through Bristol and Pemaquid, and back up through Bremen to Route 1. On my way back up to Route 1, I foolishly decided I didn't need my rain gear. As I rode north, I rode into a black cloud. It was sunny and then it was black and rain was falling so hard as to hurt me through my jacket and shirt. I was soaked through to the bone within 20 seconds. Soaked as in undies and all. I was miserable. I trudged on until I got to a local diner that was famous for its pie, Moody's. As I walked in with all my drenched gear, an old bearded dude takes his hat off and says "hat's off to you little lady, I commend you, it will get better." Busy though Moody's was, they made room for swampy Claudia. I sat down and read a bit of The Fountainhead for distraction. After some homemade mac and cheese, served with a hotdog and coleslaw (as a vegetable option) I had a serving of pie. It came with a HUGE dallop of heavy cream on top. It looks good and tasted better. Ten minutes later I realized my stomach could handle everything India could throw at it, but a heavy cream in Maine? No way. Big mistake. Ever try to sit on a hairdryer or a washing machine when your stomach is queasy? That's how I felt for the rest of the afternoon. But it wasn't over. So I continued on Route 1 and towards my next black rain cloud. This time I was smarter... I stopped right before it and put my rain gear on OVER my armored pants and jacket (both supposedly waterproof). I rode into the rain and realized my raingear was just not meant for rain like this. Any sane person would have pulled over and found shelter. But there was no shelter. It was either keep on moving and getting wet and staying still and getting wet. I was soaked to the bone again, just as quickly. So now I'm soaked AND feeling queasy. I motored on down the road a while longer to my third and worst rain cloud of the day. This one almost had me crying. I could barely see 20 feet in front of me and I had to cross a grated bridge. I didn't even care how soaked I was. As I fought my way across, I felt the wind and thought "this is how it's going to end....." Obviously that wasn't the case but I wasn't sure there for a minute. Eventually, I make it to Bar Harbor. I cruise around the touristy town looking for my hostel. As I park, my bike starts to spew antifreeze. Not just a little bit, A LOT. I was so tired that I just threw my hands up, gathered my crap and went inside. I checked in, and went back outside to assess the damage. It looked like it was coming out of the left side where the overflow tank is. I hopped on The Chain Gang, an F650GS specific site and posted a HELP plea. These guys know more about these bikes than the mechanics at the BMW shops. One guy has been paritcularly helpful and has recommended a mechanic to have a look see when I get it to Halifax. Finally, after a long day, I got to sleep for a needed rest. I slept like a log. All in all, it was a day that made a trooper out of me, but one I could have done without.
Posted 1:54 AM, Aug 06, 2008 by maat1976
Third Day - Holderness to Brunswick
My third day was pretty standard. Beautiful riding. I moved from Holderness, NH to Brunswick, ME. The difference from New Hampshire to Maine is remarkable. People in New Hampshire are super friendly and helpful. There were tons of BMW riders everywhere and I got "the wave" every time. I rode along the famed Kancamangus Highway, which passes through the White Mountains. I had driven through here back with a friend back in 2000, but it was far more exciting this time around. The air smelled sweeter somehow. One of the bonuses of traveling alone is being able to do whatever you want, whenever you want. So, I decided I wanted to stop at the Sabbaday Falls. It had rained REALLY hard the night before, so the falls would be at their most dramatic. They did not disappoint. I will post pictures. As soon as I rode into Maine, things changed. People seem to be suspicious of me and my motives of riding through. What am I doing here? Why would I live in NYC? I've also noticed that people are a little more creative with their company names. Two favortites are Hairobics and Shear Joy. This is the type of place that people put weird stuff on their lawns, like they do in Australia or West Virginia. They are also very blatant, which is best demonstrated by the famous sign you see as you enter the state "Brake For Moose, It May Save Your Life" which then has a smaller sign attached, "Hundred of Collisions Already". Thanks for the uplifting welcome! Anyway, I made it to Maine, only to camp through the night in more rain. Thankfully, the tent did well and nothing got wet. Pictures soon.
Posted 1:26 AM, Aug 06, 2008 by maat1976
Second Day - North Adams to Holderness
What a full day! I got up bright and early in my little tent (after some disturbing alien dreams), packed up, and hit the road. I had to motor it to Noth Hampton, which is on the coast of New Hampshire to stop at the BMW dealership there. This detour was a good one. In order to get to North Hampton, I had to ride along Route 2, which is called the Mohawk Trail. This road is filled with twisties and sweepers, and at 7:30 on a Saturday, no cars. It hugs the Deerfield or Deerkill River so you have a quick flowing river on your right and mountains on your left. If it was a bit craggier I'd compare to my golden standard, The Highlands. I stopped at a local breakfast joint, aptly named The Coffee Bean. I've noticed that people are not very adventurous with their eatery names. The Mug was another one I saw. I illegally parked in the drive up post office spot but no one seemed to mind because as usual, I was an oddity. A local guy comes up to chat with me about motorcycles and tells me about their local "toughie", a small lady who rides a Harley and did a roadtrip down to Myrtle Beach. I get this sort of thing so far about 3-4 times a day, which is nice. After breakkie I hauled ass to the Max BMW dealership, where the people were just AWESOME. http://www.maxbmwmotorcycles.com/ I rolled up and Rose, the woman who had helped me on the phone yesterday, came out to greet me. I can't imagine being greeted by anyone, anywhere in NYC. What a pristine shop. Beautiful Beemers everywhere and my bike looked like it had just some from the wars with melted rubber and duct tape on the exhaust. I strip off all the gear on the bike, leave Beemie in their capable hands, and venture into the showroom too oogle machines I can't fit on nor afford. While waiting I meet Oz, a very stereotypical BMW rider ('08 1200GSL), fully geared, older than me, and from the area. Between him and another older gentleman there, we pulled out my maps and plotted a few routes in Nova Scotia. One of them had just come from there and Oz was showing me a few roads in Vermont that were not to miss. This is the kind of stuff I love. Two hours later, out Beemie reappears with her new stylish side cases and I'm sporting a killer new BMW Motorrad sweatshirt. And man, BMW knows how to design some gear. I tried on a jacket that has armor in it that molds to you and hardens on impact, has a special humidity membrane, and has a killer cut. Painfully I put it back on the rack. I know it's expensive, but it looked HOT. I thanked the crew at Max BMW and rolled out. I rode along west coast of Lake Winnepasake through lakefront towns that have putt putt golf and all the usual summer amusements. Thankfully I wasn't staying in one of them. Passed Weirs Beach, Laconia, Meredith, and finally made my way to Holderness. I just liked the name. Holderness. Kinda sounds like Inverness... I set up camp at the Brethel Woods campground and as I'm setting off to gas up Beemie, Anne, the owner comes out to invite me to a potluck dinner. Um YEAH, I'll take some free food thank you. I wind up sitting down with the seasonal crowd who range from younger married couples to geriatric. The TV is on in the common room and the weather comes on - it's going to pour all night. Ugh. I must have had the look of complete exhaustion and dismay because a female couple, Debbie and BJ offered me the use of their semi-permanent tent that is on a riser, with full elevated blow up mattress. What luck!!! The night could have been pretty tragic otherwise. It could have been a trip killer to have been soaked through EVERYTHING I have with me. I rode off this morning 95% dry and glad to have met some really hospitable and kind people.
Posted 2:33 PM, Aug 03, 2008 by maat1976
First Day - Manhattan to North Adams
Whoa first day! I am sitting here writing my blog post from the Historic Valley Campground in North Adams, Massachusetts and there is a mosquito resting on my screen, just WAITING to bite me. Tonight is going to be a battle with the bugs for sure... I forgot my spray. Anyway, today was a rather intense day on the bike. Things started off a little late (1:31pm rather than the planned 1:01) but nothing major. I got to about Yonkers and had a slight "do I have my passport" twitch. I pulled over in parking lot to check (yes, in fact I did have it) but as I was hopping back on the bike I noticed a funny burning smell. NEVER a good thing. The luggage I have been using up until now is not made for my bike, nor does it fit very well. Today when I left, I was a bit hasty and I didn't tie it down in the right spot, and the heat guard (basically hardened treated foam) melted. I hadn't even gotten out of Yonkers! So, I readjusted all my gear and continued on to Poughkeepsie. When I stopped to have a bite, I realized it had gotten much worse. This was bad. Very bad. I called up my moto phone a friend, Rob, who suggested I get some aluminum foil and wrap the bag in a heat shield of sorts until I could get to a BMW dealer. As it turned out, the nearest one was 39 miles away from my final destination for the day, so I could scoot over there in the AM. I called them up, but they only had one side case and had no time for me to install them. Who buys only one side case? That's like buying a left sock. They passed me to BMW New Hampshire. When I called up BMW New Hampshire, they had all the needed gear (both side cases) and the mounting kit. They are pretty booked up, but my girl Rose said if I came in, they would do something to hook me up. They gave me approximate travel times, and if I haul to the dealership, it's only an hour to my final destination for the day and I will have time to tool around leisurely. As an extra bonus, one of the roads I have to take to get to the dealer is one that is supposed to be very scenic. A second added bonus is that new cases, although painfully expensive, will be totally lockable and much more functional. It's a bit of a detour, but this is a road trip and detours happen. So after arranging all that, I continued on. People have been approaching me left and right to talk motos and moto gear. It's summer and most people don't do ATGATT (all the gear all the time). I've had several people come up to me and say "you're actually wearing what you should- have a great ride" or a few women who will approach me the "great to see a lady rider". Always nice. The most amusing comments of the day were as I was fueling up in some podunk town along the Taconic. A couple of skater punks were admiring my ride (and how badass I look with all the gear) and some toothless redneck comes up to tell me how my bike isn't loud enough for him. "I like it when the Harley guys hit it and I know they're there. Those are real bikes." It took every ounce of patience I have to not smartss it back with "You know, I like men who have all their teeth so when they smile, I can tell they're not redneck idiots." I refrained. Tough as it was, it was too early in the trip to have a throw down at a gas station. The final challenge of the day was to pitch my new snazzy tent, in the dark. I had foolishly attempted to pitch the tent in my living room until I realized staking it into the wood floor wasn't going to go over well with the management company. I pulled out my equally snazzy headlamp, pulled out the directions, and got to work. It was successfully up in less than 10 minutes, including sleeping mat and bag rolled out. I now head off to bed feeling accomplished on my first day out on an exciting adventure.
Posted 3:05 AM, Aug 02, 2008 by maat1976
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