Monday, August 22, 2011

2800 miles in 7 days to the Cabot Trail, Nova Scotia

I Just returned from the one of the most fantastic 7 day stretches of my life. The Tiger did everything I asked of her. The new PR3's were an absolute dream. First 2 days were through all day rain and they gave the confidence to drive as I wished. Standing water, painted lines, didn't seem to matter. I have pics of wear after 2,800 miles if anyone wants to see them, a little squared, but much less than I thought. The outside compound sticks like glue in the twisties.

Day 1- Bethlehem PA -> North Conway NH (209-87-7-91-112 mostly) 425mi 6am-7pm
Not a lot to speak of, first long distance trip, first bout with extended rain. Gear, tires and Tiger performed beautifully. Water proof gloves remained so for about 300 miles. Fortunately, rt 112 in NH made me forget anything except how much i wanted to lay into those corners hard, but discretion got the better of me and decided it was nice enough to alter return path to hit it. Stayed at Moat Mountain Brewery and BBQ. Hot chili, cold beer and an hour with the hair dryer in my gloves to dry them out made me feel like a new man. For the money ($75), perfect place to stay.

Day 2 North Conway NH USA -> Moncton New Brunswick CA (2-95-9-1-2) 425mi 7am-6pm
Due to continued inclement weather, climbing Mt Washington wasn't even a thought as rains continued and fog left visibility about 100 yds, which is not the best feeling in Moose country. Really hoping to see a moose this trip, just not real up close and personal. Opted out of planned rt 16 due to rain and reduced speeds, rt 2 was a great alternative however, fast, curvy enough to be interesting, but not too curvy enough to give pause due to the heavy rain. LOVE the PR3's. Original plan had St John as the end of day 2, but already wet, and 5 hr energy really works, so blasted on to to Moncton. I have to say, the Canadians know how to build a road, and the drivers there are fast. 130kph seemed to be the average to keep up with the quicker traffic. Not thrilled about sitting at 5.2 rpm for hours on end, but it was a piece of cake. So glad I fitted the Throttle rocker. Best mod on the bike and it only cost $10. Didn't burn a drop of oil.

Day 3 Moncton, NB -> Baddeck, Cape Bretton Island, NS (114-2-104-5) 325mi 10am*- 6pm
So that's what the sky looks like! Beautiful skies, beautiful country, no rain! Went over odometer readings and somehow I had miscalculated. This trip was going to be almost 3K, not 2K miles, minor error.... Also hadn't planned on extended time up around 5K, oil now has nearly 5K miles on it Headed to Atlantic Motorsports in Dieppe, NB a Triumph dealer which was the only one in hundreds of miles, and happened to be 20 mins from my hotel. Most expensive oil change of my life $177 canadian, great people though, and knocked it down to $150 :005: Would recommend, price aside. Put me right in the shop and had me back on my way in an hour without an appointment. Headed down 114 to Hopewell cape since it was low tide time to get my lowtide picture at flowerpot rocks. Really neat place. All the inlets are just carved out channels of mud. Reminds me of the pictures of when they did hydro-mining for Gold in California. Glad I came here. After pics, back in the saddle to Nova Scotia. Straight roads, fast, boring biking, beautiful scenery, reminds me of the pacific northwest a bit. Who needs HDTV, ride a Tiger. Made it to Cabot Trail Motorcycle retreat. Small B&B 6km off 105. Converted turn of the century farmhouse into small B&B. Patrick and Angela are super nice, they have a garage for the bike, and at $50 a night, can't beat it by a long shot. Whole house, yard etc is decorated with motorcycle parts basically. Tiki torches made out of harley mufflers, bird feeders from MX fenders, 1953BSA in the foyer.

Day 4 CABOT TRAIL
Seriously, if you can, this is a dynamite ride. No where near as technical riding as I thought it would be, but breathtaking views, very little traffic and motorcycles everywhere. I went counterclockwise. Lunch in Neils Harbor at the Chowder House. Feels like Scotland/Ireland. I preferred the western side of the island as it is much more mountain feeling, though the biggest climb is called Smokey on the eastern side. Took off around 8:30 and returned "home" 7pm. Rode at one point with a pack of 14 GS1200's, they couldn't keep a speed, or take a corner, so the Tiger done run away. :158: Mind on absolute overload from the sights. Dinner at Lynwood Innn in Baddeck. Lobster and Mussels and Keith's on the deck with entertainment. End of a perfect day, on a perfect trip, on my last day being 41.

Day 5 Cape Bretton Island, NS, CA -> Waterville, ME USA (105-104-2-114-915-1-1 coastal-95) 665 miles 8amP-11:55pmE
Happy birthday to me. Work emailed they had problems, wondered If I could cut trip a day short and come back Monday instead of Tuesday...pricks. Put it out of my mind, put the positive smile on my face and headed out 8am Atlantic time for the birthday ride of a lifetime. Made it to Hopewell Cape for my high tide pics about an hour ahead of high tide, but still ridiculous how much the water moves in this place. Met a couple from washington DC who were doing nearly the same trip, but added a jaunt in Labrador, and an extra week. He on a speed Triple with 30Kmi on it and her on some kind of custom honda/ducati hybrid 4 cylinder she built herself talking about 3 days of offroading in Labrador. Nice people, great stories. Isn't that always the case? They were talking up the Maine coast on Rt1 and how many places there were to stay. If I was going to make it back a day early, I didn't want to get stuck in saturday AM customs traffic, so decided to make it over the border in Calais, instead of sleeping in St John. 915 through Fundy National park is beautiful in the fog, if you like the alpine sort of thing. Can't believe I still haven't seen a damn moose. Those nice people said there are tons of places to stay so I can't wait to make it over the border and take off this riding gear and enjoy a cold one. Border crossing was a breeze. Hard ass crossing guard was pulling over everyone in my lane for extra treatment, I'm next, oh look at that, shift change. New guy could care less about me, except if the Harley behind me is with me and a quick scan of my passport. Now to find that hotel. Queue heavy fog rolling in, early darkness, music befitting desolation of boarded up towns, banjos, Moose signs that pop out of the ether with 50 yds visibility. Oh look, there's some light to help me on my way as the display changes from 5:45pmET to 49miles to empty..

46 miles later at a Mobil station in *nowhere, ME*, I am assured there is a hotel about 45 minutes up the road by some indigenous folk. Relief. Butt is sore, hands are sore, I can't see squat because of the fog and I have to crawl along. About 45 minutes later I reach a quaint little town, with 2 hotels. Unfortunately, there was some kind of town celebration going on, the one block that made up the town was closed and revelry abounded with a roasting porker at it's core. I'm starving, can't wait to have me some BBQ and get off this bike. Both hotels 100yds later blazed "No Vacancy". Back into the white of night. About 20 miles later, another small town, small hotel, no vacancy. Good news is a car pulls out in front of me full of teenagers. Typically, this would be considered a bad thing, but brakes and good tires are purchased for a reason. This however turned out to be the greatest blessing of the trip and they flicked on their high beams and started racing down rt 1 at 70 mph through the soup. Follow reckless teenagers at speed, or go it alone in nearly zero vis fog with the famed Tiger headlight in Moose Country. Pounded the throttle and tucked in and went along blindly for the ride. Hopefully my stopping power was greater than theirs if they hit something. if I lost their headlights, I felt a sense of impending doom. It was a game of leaving enough space to be safe, but close enough so bullwinkle didn't have time to jump out in the gap. Butt really chafed, fog has turned more into fine rain droplets suspended in the dark than just regular old damp fog. 9:00 pm, 20 miles to Bar Harbor, huzzah! Road signs for hotels abound. Ellsworth, 3 miles. Finally, a comfort Inn. No vacancy. "How about any of these other hotels Maam?" "I'm sorry sir, last room was sold at 7pm, we all keep in contact. Maybe up the road in brewer?" Harrumpf. Back on the steed, fortunately far enough from the ocean that the fog has mostly broken, picked up a convoy, and high tailed it to Brewer. Yup, 4 hotels, 4 no vacancies. More fuel. 10:30, can't hardly see straight. Each exit the same dance plays out. "Got any rooms?", "You've got to be kidding sir, it's high season". 11:50pm on the day of my birth, a fella in Waterville ME says, yup got 2, want one? Hell yeah...

Day 6 Waterville, ME -> White River Jct, VT (95-4/2-116-112-91) 250 miles
Beautiful day. Definitely sleep deprived, but rested nonetheless. 5 hr energy cures everything. Fantastic ride down 2 to Mt Washington. Calling for chance of afternoon storms, but hope to get in Mt Washington, which was the idea which started off this whole trip idea. Got there about noon, and the auto road is closed for a bike race. Should be back open at 1 or so if I want to wait. Damn straight. Relaxed in the field with a bunch of beemer folks from Quebec. Language was a barrier, but sharing the same passions, we got on just fine. 12:45, lady came over and kicked us out of our lot since it was reserved for the bikers who were returning and we needed to go to the other lot to wait for it to re-open. Bikes and cars started streaming out. Being the courteous feller I am, I let a bunch of people go in front of me. As I went to turn, the lady walked over to me and said "We're opening, would you like to be first?" Hells to the yeah. Cranked the Ipod to the Allman Brothers version of Stormy Monday in honor of the old lady's record setting wind and up-up-up we went. Lots of traffic coming down with the chase vehicles from the bike race winding down. Had to stop a few times as the tourist vans that were released first navigated the panic stricken downhillers that plain stopped in the road on the dirt section. All in all went quite smooth, though my hands seemed a bit pale once I de-gloved on the summit. Last item on the bucket list, *check* (sans Moose). Had the road to myself on the way down, and wound through rain that started once I reached the bottom down to 116. Got gas, got a donut and coffee, rain stopped. I then proceeded down rt 112 which I wish I had time to turn around and ride again, and again. Ran out of steam in White River Junction, VT. Wings, beer, bed.


Day 7 White River Jct, VT -> Bethlehem, PA (91-7-87-209) 340mi
Daylight broke to cloud cover, hot chick on the weather channel started chirping about strong thunderstorms rolling through New England. Radar map backed up her dreadful story with a collage of yellow, red and purple angled NE to SW moving at a clip. Oddly enough, I was traveling NE to SW, this could get ugly. Checked the oil, lubed the chain and gave up breakfast for lent and got the hell out of dodge. Turned out to be a great day, with a fairly extreme weather event on rt 87 that lasted about an hour. Fortunate to only be stuck in it for 5 minutes. I got off and hung out under the protection of a gas station roof as lightning pummeled the earth around me. Maybe cuddling a gas pump isn't such a bright idea... Got the rain gear on and waited for the lightning to subside a bit and the weather rallied in my favor about 30 minutes later as the front passed through for a gorgeous ride back through Delaware National Recreation Area and on to home. All hell broke loose in the black sky at about 5pm as the Tiger slumped on to her side stand in the comfort of my garage with less than 3 minutes to spare. My dog was as happy to see me, as I was with the memories of my great birthday adventure. An adventure which I will never forget until the marbles start to roll a little funny in my helmet holder. There's a good chance it becomes the story I tell over and over to the bewildered attendants each time I see them in my feeble state. Tomorrow, instead of work, I will write a long winded report of my expedition aboard my two wheeled pleasure rocket, as repayment for calling me back early from one of the greatest 7 day adventures of my lifetime, and unbeknownst to them, they will pay me to do so.

I left last monday with 9,500 miles on the ticker, now off to schedule my overdue 12K mile service. My butt hurts from sitting, my hand hurts from clutching, my cheeks hurt from smiling, my lips are chapped and my mind is numb from the beauty of the great northeast. If you asked me to leave to do it again tomorrow, I'd do it in a heartbeat.