Jun 13 – More rain & Bellows Falls, VT wherever that is?

This morning as I packed up I had high hopes for a great day; the sunshine was hard at it and all my stuff was dry and ready to roll. Then the lock on one of the damn panniers refused to lock and it took me the better part of an hour getting it to co-operate. At one point I thought maybe it would help if I squirted some chain oil into the lock at which time I became fully aware of the exorbitant amount of pressure the dumb can yields. Most of the oil went where I wanted it, say around 75%, but the balance was equally divided between my thumb, the white porcelain bathroom sink, and the mirror behind it. Shades of things to come I wondered? You ever try to clean chain oil off porcelain? Or a mirror? Eventually I got the lock to work but only after completely unloading the pannier and pounding on what must have been the critical part.

After gassing up I settled into a moderate legal cruising speed of 65 mph and spent the next couple of hours relaxing in the sun and watching the scenery float by. It was good that I did too as at one point I spotted a radar cop hiding in the bushes as I went by. What a sneaky guy, he was literally hiding.

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The route I chose to follow led me through western Maine via the back roads, lots of small towns and the bumpiest country pavement you can imagine. It really didn’t matter though as all the roads were posted at very low speeds and most everyone seemed to be minding them. Per usual I stopped for photo ops whenever I saw something interesting and today there were more than a few. Bill’s Auto Parts & Wreckers boasted a collection of hubcaps that must be the largest one on the planet plus he has several interesting items mounted high in the air on steel posts. Like an old Austin complete with license plates screwed to its body panels. I remember those things when they were new and it’s my personal opinion that all of them should be mounted on steel poles, with or without license plates.

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A couple of interesting signs also caught my eye and gave me more reasons to stop. People say the damnedest things when it comes to signage and I can’t help wondering if they really think it through when they decide on their text. Maybe they’re just weird or something.

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As the day wore on I noticed there seemed to be a lot of events going on, biker week was just beginning in one place, a horse thing was in full swing at another, some sort of hiking thing at another, and graduation ceremonies thrown into the mix just to round things out. This was all well and good but the crux of the matter was motel rooms suddenly became a premium commodity. Dartmouth was having their graduation thing and after I managed to thread my way through thousands of college kids and frustrated parents wandering the streets I arrived at the Lebanon Day’s Inn where I hoped to spend the night. When I asked the receptionist gal about a single room for the night I was shocked and then pissed off to learn they’d raised their prices a cool hundred bucks just for the occasion. $180 plus freaking taxes! I don’t think so.

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Back on the slab again…I rode for maybe 20 minutes when the rain started. Just what I needed I thought, this is going to be a rerun of yesterday. Thus began a pattern of riding for a few miles and then taking the exit and inquiring as to the availability of rooms, then returning to the slab again and repeating the process. Before long it was getting late, I was getting hungry, and then the dang fuel reserve warning thing came on and started complaining. All the while the rain was increasing in intensity and it was getting dark. Bummer. I let the GPS take me to the nearest Shell station which happened to be in Bellows Falls, VT and then curious, I queried it to see what it might offer in the way of lodging. Nada. But wait, I hadn’t been looking at B&B’s I thought, so I gave that a shot. Two of them popped up so I went to the closest one. The owner responded to the doorbell and surveyed me up and down as I stood there dribbling water on his front porch. Nope, they were also full up but he suggested trying the next one only a few blocks away. Arriving there I rang the bell but no one answered and it had that dead sound houses make when no one’s home. Rats I thought, another strike out. Then a young man came walking around the corner of the yard and I was saved from a fate of sleeping alongside the road rolled up in Big Red.

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I off-loaded the wet stuff from the bike, settled in and then at his suggestion rode over to the local pizzeria where I woofed down a monster plate of spaghetti and meat balls. Isn’t it great how wonderful you feel when a couple of meat balls and pasta are laying dormant in your belly? And being a truly understanding host I found a nice bucket of ice in my room when I returned.

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Life on the road, eh?