This weekend the weather was nicer, with only scattered showers predicted for Sunday. And my rain pants and gloves came in, so I was ready. I got up at 7 on Saturday, and was packed and out by 7:30. Highway 2 in Mass goes right out towards Ayah/Poet Land, and best of all it fit my “No Interstates” guideline for the weekend, which I stuck to successfully.
Once in VT, my route took me right past Poet’s place of work, so I dropped in, but for once she seems to have had a Saturday off (and during a Seconds Sale!). So I got back on track, enjoying several hours of roads meant for motorcycles (see flickr).
By 4:30 I hit the southern suburbs of Burlington, and was looking at ominous rain clouds up ahead, so I ducked into a Days Inn and called it quits. In hindsight, I should’ve pressed on and covered more ground, because Day 2 wound up being less relaxed and more rushed with the extra ground to cover. I also should’ve closed my tank bag better, because it flapped open and dumped out my passport somewhere on Route 7. Dammit. Sixpack, sandwich, shower, sack.
Sunday a.m., NY Border, 1 mile from Canada:
Sunday it had rained all night, and was gloomy out. On the bike by 8:45, heading north towards the North Hero islands on Lake Champlain, which divides VT and NY. Towards the north end of said islands, the sun comes out and it gets HOT. I am still wearing oppressively hot rain gear, and pull over to perform the first of about 6 wardrobe changes for the day (flickr).
Upstate NY is abosultely wild. Compared to VT, it’s bear country. Towns are farther apart, woods are thicker, mountains are taller, etc. I enjoyed Route 9 very much. I needed to make good time, and it was nice to do 60+ in the middle of such barren wilderness. Several pleasant roadside stops (and one horrifically scary-looking motel -flickr) later, I eventually get back into civilization and remember how much I don’t like it. Once you get down towards Glens Falls and out of the Adirondacks, you’re in bumper-to-bumper Weekender Family Vacation Land, and that’s a shitty place to be on a bike, in hot weather, on a tight schedule, sober. A cursory scan of the map says “Go slightly west and then south young man” and I do. Eventually I get past it and back east on 2, heading back to Mass, where the rain finally catches me. The rain gear works well.
I dragged my ass back in the door at about 8:30 last night, putting the totals at 747 miles, 20 hours of saddle time (11 yesterday), 13 gallons of gas, and Not One Interstate Mile. Next time I won’t go so far. I’m still wiped out. But then I also couldn’t resist riding in to work today instead of taking the shuttle, either. It’s a sickness.
