You’ve seen some of the pics from the Americade trip, now here’s a bit of a post-party wrap up for ya. Overall, it was a great couple of days, but that’s because we opted to do our own thing, rather than partake of the official (organized) aspect of this rally.
The plan was for Chris M, Kris, and Smitty to meet up with each other down near the 24/495 connections, then head up our way. Zig and I would have time to grab a good breakfast, then race to the rally point; Rte 1 and 495. Well, in a portent of things to come; the weather dawned fairly rainy, so Zig and I agreed to just meet each other at the rally point, rather than head into the wet mess any earlier than was needed.
Rolling into the rally point (gas station), Zig was already waiting. And a few minutes later (right on time), the other three companions arrived and pulled in to gas up. Introductions were made all around and we were off. As we made our way further along, the rain began to let up and eventually broke off, leaving mostly cloudy skies which, while not as nice as open sunshine, are much better than thick rain clouds.
Rather than sticking with interstate highways the whole way, we felt a nicer, more scenic route was in order, so we ambled along Rte 2, picked up 91 into VT, then peeled off onto Rte 5 through Brattleboro, to then pick up rte 30 for a nice spell through the Green Mountain National Forest. Great, great riding roads through here, and we were really enjoying some nice sweeping bends through open farmland. We’d been keeping an eye on the skies for a while, as the clouds were regrouping, preparing to launch another assault upon us. Before long, the telltale flashes of lightning could be seen ahead, beneath the now-black ceiling we were riding into. After pulling over to don our rain gear, we headed into the teeth of the storm.
In no time, we were being pounded with Noah’s Ark-type rain, followed quickly with the ping-ping, plunk-plunk, crack-crack-crack of hailstones bouncing off of our bikes…and our faces. Perhaps we should have pulled off (like everyone else seemed to be doing, including the logging truck that had passed us while we were gearing up), but we said screw it and continued on. Fortunately, the hail didn’t last as long as the rain did, and we were more than happy to finally ride out of the cell and back into just cloudy skies again.
With that mess behind us, we soon found our campsite, and luckily for us; the grounds weren’t terribly soaked. In no time at all, we’d laid claim to our two sites, tents were raised, clothes were changed, and we were ready to head out and see what kind of fun awaited us.
Kris did a quick “bar” search on his phone and one of the results that popped up was “Sully’s Tavern” (I love the term ‘tavern’ – sounds rustic and full of character). It was agreed that we should go say hello to Sully, and off we went.
What we found was an out of the way, neighborhood watering hole where the people were friendly and happy for our patronage. We met Sue, the bartender, who prefers to be called “Zue” – a nickname given to her by her granddaughter who hadn’t quite mastered her “S’s” yet. We met Gina, the evening bartender who relieved Zue when her shift ended. And, we met Bella, the feisty owner of the tavern. Essentially, Bella runs the whole show here. She even lives above it, and can be found here almost every hour of every day. She was great! They all were! The food was great, the service was great, and the beers ran long into the evening (yes, we drank them out of Bud Light). We joked that we were going to crash in the corner and would help Bella with breakfast the next morning, but once we found they were out of Bud Light, we checked our watches, saw that we’d been there for…many hours, and realized we should probably head back to the site. A quick stop along the way for more beer, some ice, and a few bundles of firewood, and we were off again.
Back at the site, we got a fire going and started attacking the beers. Things were going great and there were plenty of laughs going around, but my long hours of late were sneaking up on me. Much too soon, I felt the telltale signs of sleepytime stealing over me, so I said my good nights and retired to the comfort of my sleeping bag.
The next morning broke mostly cloudy, but not rainy, and that’s always appreciated when you’re sleeping on the ground. Opening my tent flap, I was greeted with the sight of my bike parked just outside, surrounded by forest. It was too good a pic to not share, so I posted it.
Once we were all showered and ready to roll, we headed off to Sully’s again, and there was Bella, waiting for us. She took our orders (no menus, just whatever we want, she cooks), and she disappeared into the back to get working on the grille. Ahhh, nice. A good morning! We’d woken dry, had showered up and were smelling pretty again, and our bellies were full. What next? Why, ride of course!
Chris M (with his GPS) took the lead and we were soon pulling into an out of the way HD dealership; Adirondack. A few pics of the sign, some browsing in the store (some new stickers for the helmet), some innocent flirting with the attractive salesgirl, and we were then back out on the road.
We were soon easing through some amazing roadways (Rte 8 and 9N, in particular). We were nudging our way through the gears; up quickly when a bit of a straightaway presented itself, then quickly back down to take on sweeping turns around river bends. Kris was looking for some good spots to snap some pics in, and before long, a nice riverside pull-off presented itself, so we pulled in.
The river was running high from all the rain…
Stretching our legs, and our gums…
These are great roads, and they're calling to us…
In the middle of nowhere, we stumbled upon a genuine roadhouse; JJ’s. There were a ton of bikes lined up outside; always a “welcome” flag for thirsty travelers. We assumed our spots in the row of parked bikes and made our way inside for some welcome refreshment. Walking around inside, looking at the scars on the floor, the marks on the tables, the general feel about the place - you could just tell that if the walls could talk, they’d have some hilarious stories (and some frightening tales) to share. Truly, a great place! It was quiet at this time (and the group of bikes that had been there when we arrived were getting ready to pull out), but we chatted with a guy outside that was prepping his ginormous smoker…
...and he said it would jam up that night, once the food was ready (~6pm). Well, we’re never ones to turn down food, but we did have more miles to achieve, and we needed to find a place where we could watch the B’s game, so we tilted the rest of our beer down our throats, and saddled up again.
After slicing straightaways and killing corners for a while, we stumbled upon yet another inviting establishment; Susie Q’s. We popped in for a few more brews, a bit of a late lunch, and were soon rolling again.
We found a scenic overlook and pulled in to snap a few more pics of the great sights all around us…
Lined up for a hasty exit, if needed…
From here, it was back to town to find a bar for the B’s game. We’d been advised that the Old Post Grille would be a good place for this, so we located it and pulled in. Right next door, there was a Boss Hoss expo going on, so we strolled over and checked them out for a bit, before heading inside the Old Post.
It was still early in the evening (6 or so, I believe), but we bellied up, front-row, at the bar (admit it; you’re not surprised by this bit of news). The bartender, Samantha, promised us she’d put the B’s game onto the big screen TV directly in front of us, so with everything lined up and ready, we set about ordering grub and road sodas.
As game time approached, we had a few more B’s fans arrive and we were soon all taking turns laughing with each other, as well as shouting at the TV (the B’s were playing horribly). When the carnage was over (many, many hours later), we settled our bar tab (only to find that Samantha was a big fan of us and had given us quite a break!) and headed back to the site. We got the fire going again and managed to wipe out all survivors that were still remaining in the cooler. And with that, it was time to turn in.
Damn. It was time to wake up, break camp, and head for home. And that telltale sound on the tent fly told me it was raining pretty well. Sure enough; it was very wet outside. Oh well, nothing to do but get stuff packed up and get moving. Which we did, then found a Dunkin in town to stuff some food and coffee into our veins. And with that, we were off and hitting the highways.
The rain stuck with us for a majority of the ride, but did finally ease up toward the end. We’d said our farewells at the last gas stop along the way, and as we each passed our prospective exit, we peeled off one-by-one, until there was just Smitty, rounding out the Americade trip in a solo fashion. (Well, I’m assuming that’s how it went, for you see; mine was the first exit, LOL.)
And there you go; Americade 2011. It was my first time “attending” (did I really ‘attend’ if I didn’t do the official thing?), but I’ll definitely do it again, as long as we do our own thing again. It sounds like the other guys are on-board with that plan, too…so technically, there’s no reason why we can’t go anytime, why wait for Americade, right? Yep, that’s something that’s being kicked around, too.
Thanks for the invite, Chris!
We Rode Hard, and We Took Chances
