It was an audacious plan I put together for poor trusting Rex. We’d head up to Mount Washington in the morning, knock that out of the way and be on the road again by noontime, finally arriving in Fort Kent by 6 or 6:30. That would give us plenty of time to snap his Mile 0 pic and get settled in for the evening.
Ahh, but the best laid
plans. Or perhaps more accurate; the
plans when Dave-O screws things up…
I’d laid out our routes about
two weeks prior to departure, had printed them up and had them ready to tape to
the windshield. And then I neglected to
review the directions on-line before we left, so that I’d know specifically
what turns needed to be made, and where.
So what happened was a missed turn on the way to Mount Washington, which
left us completely off the map with regard to my planned route. Fortunately, Rex saw a sign for Mount
Washington which I acquiesced to after driving us around in circles for a
bit. The sign took us the long way but
at least it got us to the auto road, albeit about an hour behind schedule. Dammit!
We made it safely up, took in
a few pics...
Completely clouded in when we arrived...
But it quicly cleared off...
Checked out the train...wait, what...train?
Yeah; train. Unbelievable! And check out the decline this thing takes! (The pic doesn't do it justice. These tracks literally almost drop away to nothing...)
We grabbed a quick lunch at the cafeteria on the summit, then rolled back
down. Ok, now to make up some of this lost
time that I’ve caused…
Cue another missed turn. I took what I thought was the correct turn
but soon realized it wasn’t what we were looking for so we turned around and
kept on going…right past the correct turn which was only about an eighth of a
mile beyond where we’d just turned. And
that took us way out of the way. My
directions had us turning on to route 26, which we did come across…but I took
us north…and we wanted south. North
brought us back in to NH (there was even a sign which said “to New Hampshire”
which I ignored, stupidly).
After realizing that I’d once
again gotten us way off course, we stopped to check our phones – and realized
that we had no signal, here deep in the scenic national forecast we currently found
ourselves in. We lucked out in that a
very attractive hiker happened upon us, and although she tried to walk by us –
twice – without speaking to us, we caught up to her and asked for her help. She got us turned back around in the correct
direction and off we went, eventually picking up Rte 2 and taking this all the
way to 95 north. How much time had I
cost us this round? At least another
hour, maybe more. Fcuk!! (I was mentally punching myself in the eye
socket the entire time.)
Here's the patient fellow traveler, motoring along happily...
At one gas stop, I noticed this in the trash...and wondered; did Matt just come through here?
At one gas stop, I noticed this in the trash...and wondered; did Matt just come through here?
Once we found 95 north, we
opened things up and the road gods apparently felt badly for Rex, for the
cleared the highway of most of the traffic and we made great time. Picking up Rte 11, we were also blessed with
light traffic and an open roadway.
Still, though, time was working heavily against us, and there’s only so
fast you can go on a scenic winding wooded road. Just kidding, we were doing about 85-90 mph
along the stretches between towns. Not
exactly the smartest idea, when the daylight is waning and the road signs are
warning of high moose impacts in the area.
As the sun set lower and
lower, and the shadows stretching across the road became longer and longer, I
was beginning to think we were going to run out of daylight before we
arrived. Thankfully, we did arrive just
in time to snap a couple of pictures before all daylight faded from the sky.
However, even that was not
without incident. Those who have been
there, know there’s a bricked path leading right up to the marker, and is
perfect for riding your bike up to get a picture right in front of it. Rex had started to park his bike out closer
to the road and I pointed out that he needed to get his bike right up to the
marker for the picture. He said ok,
pulled a u-turn and proceeded to head up over the manicured grass.
Rex!!! What are you doing!?!? The path is over here!!!!
So he turns toward me…and rides
right through the flower bed lining the right side of the path.
REX!!!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?!?!?!
So he stops to look at me…and
now he’s perfectly perpendicular to the bricked path, . His front tire is completely mashing a plant
on the left side of the path, and his rear tire is sitting squarely on top of
another plant in the right side of the path, certainly doing it no good at all.
Rex, seriously; What. The. Fuck.
are you doing? Get off the
landscaping. Get your bike onto the
bricks and get over to the marker so we can take your picture and get out of
here before we get arrested.
(Fortunately, we were able to succeed in both; getting the picture, and
not being arrested.)
Now we needed to find
accommodations. After a quick search
on-line, then some driving around, we realized the place we were looking for
was basically across the street from the Mile 0 marker. We got checked in...
Separate beds, just in case any of you were wondering...
The last leg of the trip was uneventful and while traffic hadn’t completely disappeared, we didn’t have any major slowdowns. Well, except for that one spot where there were about 3 cruisers, 8 cars pulled off to the side, and one car deep in the woods. Everyone seemed to be milling around and not in bad shape, so that was good to see. Also good to see was that the traffic slowdown was only about a half-mile long, so we were soon boppin’ along at a good pace again, and finally into our respective driveways.
The motel recommended a place
for us to grab dinner, and off we went...
Dinner was an atrocious
experience. The first thing we ordered;
they were out of. The second thing; also
out of. The third try was something that
came with pasta, but the waitress said they don’t carry any pasta, just rice
and potatoes. I pointed out the menu
said it came with pasta and she was very surprised to hear that. After checking the menu, and then with the kitchen, it turned
out they did have pasta, so we each ordered the chicken parm. (At this point, it seemed the safest bet –
how hard is it to make chicken parm?)
Apparently it’s quite difficult because it was horrible. They did have a nice porter on tap, though…so
of course the keg kicked when I ordered a second one. Suffice to say; we won’t be going there again
– if we’re up there again.
Next up; park the bikes and
stroll to the bar next door. Bee-Jay’s
was the establishment and who can resist such an alluring name? Well…apparently just about everyone because
the place was empty. At first we thought
it was closed and they’d just forgotten to lock the door and turn the lights off. But wait – there were two drinks
on the bar and a pack of cigarettes. Ok…so
where are these people? And where’s the
bartender?
(shrug) We sat down and waited. And before too long, the two guys (patrons) come from
around the side of the bar and the bartender appears on the inside (of the
bar). She walks up to the sink and
immediately washes her hands, as the two guys sit down, not saying a word. Ok, so what just happened? Maybe the bar should change its name from
Bee-Jays to Hand-Jays? Or maybe not, who
can say. We didn’t want to think about
it.
We ordered a few rounds of
beers and sampled different bottles (shots) and before too long, it was just us
and the bartender. We asked what time
she closed and she said “whenever you’re done”.
So we had another round and then asked again. Her answer was the same so we said we didn’t
want to keep her open just for us, was there something we could to do
help? There were peanut shells on the
floor so we offered to sweep them up and she said no, it was her job, and she
wasn’t going to budge. So we figured
just one more round and then we’d call it a night, which we did.
We set a tentative plan to
leave at 8am, but didn’t bother to set an alarm. So it was no surprise when we woke up and
found it was 9:15. D’oh. We had a lot of miles to get through, so we
got cleaned up and were on the road by 10.
Our route today was an easy
one. A straight shot; route 11 south, to
95 south. Still, after the prior days’
navigation foibles, I figured we’d be better off if Rex led us home. We were on 11 in no time and soon came upon a
logging truck. At first chance, Rex took
us around and past it and then…well…then he started slowing down. Which meant the logging truck was catching up
to us. Not wanting to be dicks (we just
passed him, so why stack him up behind us now?), I saddled up next to Rex and
motioned that he should put a little more coals on the fire. That turned out to be a potential mistake, because
from then on, we were doing between 90 and 100 miles an hour (between towns). Bear in mind that the posted limit (between
towns) is only 55, so this was pretty chancy but we made it to 95 safely, and in
good time.
Once out on 95, Rex settled
things down to a comfortable 90(+).
Posted limit here is 70, so that was better than on route 11, but I was
still pretty certain that any LEO’s wouldn’t be thrilled with our rate of
passage.
At our lunchtime gas stop, I
commented about his speed and he said “What…I’m only doing between 75 and 80.” LOL, no you’re not, Chum. You’re doing about 90, and sometimes over. “Oh…I wondered why we were passing everyone.” Haha, good times!
We knew traffic would be a
bear once we got down into NH and MA, so we had a plan in place. Rex has a buddy with a place in Old Orchard
Beach, so we detoured to his place and kicked back for a few hours with Rich,
his brother Mike, and their buddy Kelly.
Sitting in the shade, bullshitting with the guys, a few cold frosties
in-hand…it was a great way to wind down the afternoon and let the roadways
clear out.
The last leg of the trip was uneventful and while traffic hadn’t completely disappeared, we didn’t have any major slowdowns. Well, except for that one spot where there were about 3 cruisers, 8 cars pulled off to the side, and one car deep in the woods. Everyone seemed to be milling around and not in bad shape, so that was good to see. Also good to see was that the traffic slowdown was only about a half-mile long, so we were soon boppin’ along at a good pace again, and finally into our respective driveways.
And now the planning starts
for the next corner…
No comments:
Post a Comment