Donning the gear, I mulled over a number of destinations. Where should I go on a fine day like this? How about the Cape! I haven’t ridden out there in a while, and it would involve a mix of some highway hammering, combined with a healthy dose of scenic side streets. It sounded like a good plan to me, and I off I went.
The highway traffic was pleasantly sparse, and I made good time – all except for one spot where traffic suddenly jammed up hard. Looking ahead at the front of the growing stacks of cars, I could see vehicles maneuvering to the far left (off the highway) and to the far right (into the breakdown lane), to avoid something, and then returning to highway speeds. Good, it’s not an accident, just some kind of obstacle we have to get around. What could it be? A couch? Barrel? I figured whatever it was, I might even have a chance to pull off, grab it and drag it off of the highway to open things up. Why not do a bit of civic duty on this fine day, right?
But, when enough cars had cleared from in front of me so that I could see what was the problem was, it was obvious there wasn’t a thing I could do. The thing in the road was going to take much more than anything I had available to correct. Looking up ahead, I saw a pulled-over pickup truck in the breakdown lane, with a bunch of household items in the back, and the occupants were milling about, trying to figure out what to do about the recent turn of events that was their doing. Because apparently they had been in possession of what I can only surmise was once a large entertainment center of some sort which had fallen out of their truck’s bed and was now a pile of shattered wood and glass, stretching across three lanes of travel.
Easing carefully around the mess, I was soon back up to (above) highway speeds and making good time once again. Before long, I found myself approaching the Bourne bridge, so I pulled over and snapped a pic.
Crossing over, I looped almost all the way around the rotary and picked up Rte 6 and paralleled along the Canal for a bit. Catching movement through the trees on my right, I saw a wall of steel slowly fading past me. Well this is odd – whatever that thing is, I’m not passing it as fast as everything else that’s going by…the perspective is off…what gives? (There were too many trees in the way to get a good look.) Soon, however, the trees thinned and I could tell it was a massive tanker! Cool – it’s not often you see a mammoth ship taking the shortcut through the canal, so I shot up to a pull-out spot and lined up to snap some pics as this behemoth slowly slid on by.
From there, I continued on a bit, pausing to snap a pic of the Sagamore bridge, before continuing on. (Ok, so the pics may not be terribly fascinating, but it was a nice day and I was enjoying myself.)
I then meandered my way up and down whatever scenic streets presented themselves to me. I got lost several times, but the area is small enough, and has enough marked routes, that even when I got lost, it wasn’t long before I crossed back over something that was familiar.
One thing I do enjoy checking out when I’m on one of these ride-abouts, is old cemeteries. I spotted one up on a hill as I was rounding a corner, so I u-turned, parked, and snapped some pics.
The moss covered granite stairs looked amazing in the sunlight. It was like discovering a long-lost place (even though a busy side road intersection was at the base of the hill).
I haven't seen anything like this before - these granite slabs were supported in all four corners, as well as in the middle. They were like giant gravestones, complete with name, dates, and brief bios. The supports were also on granite slabs that lay flush in the ground, but I don't know if the people mentioned on the top slabs were buried underneath, or not.
I thought this made for a good pic. You'll have to click on it to expand it to see it, but I liked the old gate in the foreground, with my bike in the background.
Just as I was about to leave, I happened to notice an old penny, resting on top of the left granite post. It was even heads up - a good omen. However, someone had deliberately placed it here, and I didn't feel it would be right of me to take it. (It was a 1961 penny, and certainly looked every day of that age, but who knows when it had been left here.)
Further along in my travels, I saw this sign and had to snap a pic. After I’d gotten closer, I could see it was for an ophthalmologist’s office, but from a distance (as I was approaching), it looked like a very unimpressed sign. Bored, even.
I decided around this time to begin my return, and slowly worked my way back through more scenic roadways, eventually finding myself back in familiar territory and approaching the rotary again.
The fingers had a bit of chill at this point, and the stomach was grumbling that I hadn't been paying any attention to it for a while, and as luck would have it; there was an I-Hop restaurant right on the rotary. I pulled in, shut down, and made my way in. The girl at the front desk took one look at me and got kind of wide-eyed, and asked me if I was some kind of astronaut. Uhm...what? It took me a split-second to realize what she was referring to - I was still geared up with all the warm and protective clothing. I laughed and explained that no, I was merely out enjoying the roads on the motorcycle. She seemed impressed with this, and asked where I was from (relax, this is a PG blog, and she was much too young, anyway). I told her I was from Walpole and asked if she knew where that was - she said "Yeah, don't they have a prison up there?" Ahh yes, some things you just can't leave behind you.
A warm cup of hot chocolate and a hearty breakfast (in the late afternoon? Hell yeah!) later, and I was soon back out in the lot, getting ready to saddle up. The sun had long been making it's slow descent from the skies, and it was draggin the temps with it, so it seemed a good idea to just hammer home. I hopped back out into traffic, shot back over the bridge, and then it was nothing but a little over 50 miles between me and my driveway. A brief side-stop to gas up again, once I'd arrived in Walpole (gotta keep the tank full - not sure when I'll be able to get out again), and then it was time to regretfully roll her back into the garage.
I've got my fingers crossed that that won't be the last ride of the year. Not to jinx anything, but so far, we've dodged a lot of bullets with the whole snow thing. If things keep up this way, then Zig and I should have no problem for our annual New Year's ride - and that's only two weeks away.
Where does the time go?
Ride Hard, Take Chances
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