|10-02-2012, 09:46 PM||#11|
Joined: Jul 2008
So. Day... whatever. I woke up early to watch the sun rise and then PTFO again for another hour. We had been up late finishing off all the whiskey & trading lies in an amazing setting and I'm not a young pup like HBN anymore.
The ride out of the cove on the steep dirt was amazing in the morning. I do love getting up on the pegs right out of the tent n the AM... The last part of the Cabot Trail was as stunning as the rest and a great way to finish off the morning.
Then a great Atlantic beach stop for a snack/piss.
Then I got this nice shot of HBN while we waited for the ferry on the aforementioned weird peninsula. He was listen to a local woman warn us about moose and the like.
After that we parted ways at a random intersection as I left to followed the coast of Bras d'Or Lake on Hwy223. The first hour was much weirder than I expected. I usually ride solo on long trips, so having just had a compadre for a week on the road made riding solo feel a bit odd. Every once on a while you'd check your mirror & see nothing there and then remember that you were on your own again. After one of these particular moments about 30min later, I shook my head hard to remind myself to stay more alert now that I was solo as I was downshifting for a 90deg right hander onto a bridge. As I came around it onto a one-lane wooden bridge I faltered at the sight of 5 or 6 bikini clad young ladies jumping off into the lake. I motored by in my best cool-guy pose and nodded at the motorcycling Gods to acknowledge their sign: Everything was going to be just fine.
My plan at this point had been to head back down to Digby, camp for the night, and then take the ferry over in the morning. However, as soon as I had my Shinko's pointed South-ish the desire to just ride it out overtook me. So I made for the border to the North: I'd try to hit the border at Houlton MA before sundown. I'd better get low & fast...
A few pics on the way there as I raced the sunset & fought a killer crosswind on CA2.
Somewhere close to sunset the sky started to look a bit ugly up ahead. I had no rain gear on & was low on fuel: Next exit 20 clicks. Bugger. *&%$ it, let's see if we make it. It didn't look good:
I made it to the exit just as it started to sprinkle and got under the gas station awning just as all hell broke loose; hail, lightning hitting poles in the parking lot, the usual Hell from a badass thunderstorm. I made a run for the Get n' Go to pay and actually got a round of applause from everyone waiting in line.
After that, I pushed like hell into the coming dusk to get to the border. The wait at the border was a normal 20-30min, but I was anxious. After some eyebrow raising about what exactly I'd been up to in Canada to show up looked this crazy, they let me through. Before I rode off I asked about a decent hotel in town. The border guard laughed and said We have 2 of 'em. They ain't decent, but your next option is another 3hrs.
Another 20min & I finished a 12hr day in the saddle. After blasting around town (how much fun is a DS bike completely empty around town after a FULL day in the highway?? ) to get supplies, I crashed out with a beer & some vittles and tried to plan where I would camp the next day on the route back to DC. Or would I throw caution to the wind, try to break my distance record, & make it in one shot?
1972 R75/5 x2, one hacked
1973 R75/5 Toaster LWB (Keeper)
1970-74 CB/CL 350/360/450's. Too many to count.
1974 XL250 Street Tracker
2002 R1150GS White Whale
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