Mumbled mutterings of many miles mixing melancholy memorial memories with minor mishaps, magnificent mountains, mega-sized Maine Moose, marvelous meals, meeting manly Maine motorcyclists at Meat Cove, maddening monsoons, machine malfunctions, and a multitude of magnanimous members of the human race that made this trip a memorable one. Saturday, May 28 On the road slabbing to Connecticut, two days later than planned and a day too late to make the start of the Angel Ride (a two day, cross-state fundraising bicycle ride that I was assisting by being part of the motorcycle safety crew for the third year in a row) when a car passed me and then slowed down. As I pull along side, the driver's window rolled down and a pretty lady started gesturing to me with what looked like a smile. Things are looking up I thought, did she used to have a VFR?, maybe she had a thing for first responders and thought I was a fire fighter (clad in my riding suit with the hi-viz yellow accents), I pulled into the rest area that was just a couple of miles up the road and she followed. It turned out that she was trying to indicate to me that one of my saddle bag cases was opened and she saw a tennis shoe fly out. I had hit a nasty pavement break a short time before. Assessing the diminished contents of the bag, a clear faceshield for the helmet, a spare pair of riding gloves, and an Angel Ride ball cap had preceded the tennis shoe in the ejection sequence. I pitched the now superfluous sneaker into the trash and headed on with the added impetus to make it to the Hole in the Wall Gang Camp where the riders were overnighting before darkness fell, since I was now limited to a tinted faceshield. One last coffee break (all the ones at the interstate rest areas were shut down, thank dog for the Boy Scouts): I arrived at the camp in the gathering gloom to find it gated, but a gentleman was on hand to let me in and I carefully made my way to the staff housing area where most of the motocrew was staying without further incident. Mike had a spare clear faceshield, so I was covered should tomorrow be foggy and for the rest of the trip. Dan had new hats done up for the crew, so I got a spiffy white Australian styled 'digger' hat should tomorrow be sunny, and I got the upper bunk in a room with Dougs Sr and Jr. Senior declined the offered set of ear plugs, much to his distress. His emphatic accusation of me being a snorer could not be denied, but it was definitely a case of Mr Pot describing the color of the kettle. And I had earplugs! So it was a toss up as to who caused who to lose more sleep. I bailed out of the room around 0400, too tired to do it as quietly as I might have, causing more loss of sleep to the plugless - my bad.