The local Tag-O-Rama threads seem to generating some action getting people out riding when perhaps they might otherwise be doing the typical New England autumn rituals such raking leaves, stacking firewood or sheltering valuable possessions with faded blue tarps for the winter. Thought I might start a thread where we'd all have a place to tell 'the rest of the story' or the tale of the 'one that got away'. Feel free to use this space to tell your story or post a picture or twenty! I'll start off with my most recent ride to claim a tag in Vermont... Sunday morning, secretly happy I woke up in my nice warm bed after our campout got postponed... ...we gather at the Cromag Cave for a ride to Vermont. We were heading to Maine to camp so this makes perfect sense. The political signs littering the landscape tell us it's November. It's a bit frosty out. Rick tells me it was twenty-something when he got up. Around Temple Mountain I think to myself "His ears have got to be nearly frozen off." Right about that times he motions to pull over so he can cover them we pull into the Shell in Peterboro. Good. Today I'm 'that guy.' Not sure where the first fuel stop was going to be but I'm getting gas here. We slip over the border. Notice the frosty arches. In Brattleboro it's a steamy 37°F. At least that's what the sign sez. The obligatory Hogback Mountain shots. We roll. We're heading to the Blue Plate Diner (?). There's something 'blue' in the name. To my relief we pull in here. They could be serving shoes for all I c-c-c-care. As long as it was heated. Ross claims his stomach was growling too much. Perhaps. I couldn't hear mine over the teeth chattering. Maybe it's time to upgrade to aheated jacket... Ross and Rick each order an omelette. My eggs and saugage are half eaten before I remember the 'food shot'. Maybe it was growling afterall. Killer sunflower seed bread, btw. Slightly warmer outside now, we gear up. We're riding along and the voices inside my head say, "Hmmmm...almost looks like sno....it IS snow on the ground!" The GPS leads us doen the wrong path. That's a shocker. We manage to find it anyway using the old fashioned method - signs. This is Rick and Ross's first exposure to the tag game. In my typical fashion I look for wi-fi on the spot. You never know. Afterall, the library is just down the hill. Nothing strong enough there and having to piss like a race horse in this residential area we gear up and head down to the store for something hot to drink and hopefully a better wi-fi signal - not to mention facilities. Powers Market has everything we need. Agreeing to whatever their demands were I log on and eventually get the tag posted as we watch a couple of bikes head up to the tag. This bit of competition is what might hook Ross and Rick. The post 'poxing' me for beating them to it 2 minutes later doesn't help. Close call there! We head north out of town. Not too far down the road we pass this sign. The last conversation at Powers Market moments before was "...no dirt today - I've got no rear tire left." He wasn't kidding. Trying to make up for it Ross finds a new surface to ride on. Eventually he comes to his senses. Ok. Not really. There was a mutiny in the ranks. Rick thought it could get real expensive if we continued. I didn't disagree. Had no idea how much ice was on the downhill side and didn't care to find out. Did the ice riding on the RT once. I'm all set. Since the serum did not have to get through we headed back the other way.<!-- / message --><!-- sig --> Ross gives the signal and we roll. We eventually roll into Chester where I spot this. Being the Halloween season and all it seems like it could be a good tag if nothing else catches my fancy. Next stop is Bellows falls where we stop for some 'lunch'. It's like 3:30. 'Lupper' maybe. Inside we meet Jeremy who tells us bikers are his family. He may be onto something - the resemblance is uncanny. Running out to the bike for something I spot this dude across the street looking awfully familiar. It's fellow ADV'er crazyal! We've seen each other at Cromag the last 3 years. Of course my skill with names sucks so he has to remind me. Sorry, Alex! Back inside we have lunch. Borrowing the phrase from Vermin we spot a Harley in its natural habitat before heading out. Sorry, Rick. Along with this sign. This one is on the front. Nice play on words. Rick waits for the tourists. We finally make our way out of town. Back across the border. We find 123/123a and some other nice roads. We stop by the 'farm'. Rolling into Hillsboro we find 149. At the end of that we split and go our separate ways. Great day for a fall ride! Thanks Ross and Rick!