|09-25-2012, 07:15 PM||#9|
Joined: Jul 2008
Okok. Due to the eager demands of literally 2 of people, here is my rushed contribution to Day 3. I swear, I eventually start taking some pictures. It just wasn't today.
After waking up at the butt-crack of dawn to already find my compadre packed, fed, showered, and ready to ride, I fell out my tent & fumbled around for some tea. I can't start the day w/o a cup'a. Thirty minutes to an hour later, I'd ended HBN's suffering and gotten packed up & on the bike.
We took off and rode the length of Maine in what my memory recorded as a couple of hours. It may have been longer than that...
Rt9 was bloody gorgeous & traffic was light. Just miles & miles & miles of rolling hills & sunshine.
Then we hit the border in Calais. Growing up in the greater Buffalo NY area, we went into Canada on a regular basis (with the drinking/smoking age being less than the US, if they ever even bothered to ID you) and then later for epic camping trip in Algonquin. This, however, would be my first m/c border crossing. To my amazement the border agent was one of the most stunning french canadian women I've ever seen in my life. Long story short, the last thing I said before riding off was “Are you SURE you don't have any reason to detain me??”
Redundant picture just to look like I took a few...
Then we rode off into Canada, both of our GPS's showing us riding straight across the countryside due to the recent relocation of CA1.
After more gorgeous roads that I neglected to photograph, we ended up at the St. Joh/Digby ferry where we very bravely chose to relax for 4hrs until the ferry left instead of exploring the town.
This how a wild HBN KCCO's while waiting for a ferry:
Finally they let us on, with me muttering incantations under my breath he whole way down the ramp to not drop the bike on the slick metal surface.
Apparently we took the identical shot. Or HBN stole mine...
Mike on the Poop Deck:
Finally, after a very wild, dark, slightly terrifying, definitely thrilling, high speed run on the only road down the “neck” we arrived at our accommodations. And I was stunned. I was happily ready to kip it in a tent in the back yard or sleep on the floor in a spare room. But no, we were thrust into the lap of luxury: Our own freaking HOUSE for the next 2 days. Not only that, it was supplied with snacks & cold beer. I'm happier than I've been in years and settle into an overstuffed chair and bullshit for an hour or two before I crash out in a warm bed for the first time in... ok, like 1 night. But it was still amazing.
(Editors Note: I really do have some pics finally for Day 4. )
1967 Triumph Daytona Bobber ("project" would be kind)
1973 R75/5 LWB (Keeper)
1973/74 CB/CL 360's + Several 70-73 CL/CB 350/450 Cafe's
1974 XL250 Street Tracker
2002 R1150GS White Whale
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