A bit of there and back again
Aug. 13th, 2010 11:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumMarna and I have been travelling some. The plan is, generally, for the two of us to noodle west a ways, until she has to head back for a family function. That means some practice "2-up" was in order. Since ladymondegreen and akawil were a few hours away, visiting friends, we decided to make a day of it.
The ride wasn't too bad. Her getting on and off the bike was a bit of a trial. The bike is 600 lbs, no luggage. When someone gets on, I have to keep it upright, while the extra weight moves about. It can be a bit tricky. Since the bike is taller, and the rear seat moreso, than the bike she's used to mounting, there were some difficult moments. But we got mounted, and moved out. The bike is really easy to move. Even with the extra weight on the back, she leaned in nicely, stood up politely and, by and large, felt not much different than she had when I was moving solo, with just luggage.
Mileage was about the same too. We did get out late, but that happens. We also had some horrid traffic. I spent about forty minutes "paddling" the bike at about 2 mph. We met up withakawil and ladymondegreen , had a nice picnic and noticed the weather getting a bit less than stable. Took a look at the internet (God, I love technology) on akawil 's phone, saw a staggering amount of staggered thunderstorms off the lake.
Called Ian, and were told the Ottawa weather was fit for neither man nor beast (there was a tornado nearby, in fact). Did some dithering, were joined by the friends ofakawil and ladymondegreen dashed to a nearby Timmies. We chatted some, decided the odds of being caught out in a storm were not good, and decided to get a room. Because of the trip they were making the next day, and the quirks of where they'd been staying, the four of us sharing a room seemed more reasonable than them going back, or the four of us getting two rooms.
Marna askedladymondegreen if she wanted to ride on the back of the bike to the hotel. She said sure, so we kitted her out, and she got on. It was a pleasant ride, if somewhat plain. Though passing the Air Force Base/Land Warfare School was sort of homely. We checked in, dropped what gear there was and decided to head to a mall, do some shopping and get some dinner. Marna asked if ladymondegreenwanted to ride behind again, she said sure and so I got my gear on, double checked the directions, stuck the GPS in my pocket, and we headed out.
Whence we promptly missed a turn, went too far, checked the map, got ourselves sorted out, and made another mistake. I'd found the route, but missed a complicated bit of staying on the road. We ended up in a dead-end by the rail-yard. In my defense, I missed the intricate connection, in part, because some yahoo with a truck had ten feet of kayak, with a steel-tipped prow, sticking out the back. Got turned around again, and got turned around.
We could have stopped to call, butladymondegreen's phone wasn't with her. We hit some construction, made some turns and I got (finally) to the street I was looking for. Pulled into the mall, got off the bike, headed in, immediately saw ladymondegreen's friends, and were told to hurry, lest we fail to catch Marna before she called the police.
We were too late. It had taken about an hour, and some other things combined to make it look worse. 1: It was thought we were following the locals. 2: The locals decided to give the four of us some more time to visit byt ourselves. 3: They didn't answer their phone. Which caused some, not unreasonable, worries that we'd all had some sort of terrible wreck. Hugging, some words about calling (I could have; the rate on my phone when used in Canada is hideous, but worth avoiding that sort of thing. The killer was one minute adding to another).
So we headed out, looking for food. We ended up at a chain of some sort, because Belleville, Ont. is not the sort of place to be open at 9:30 of weekday evening (though it is the sort of place to have one of those roadside advertising carts touting the availability of a super-spiffy $100 vibrator, and a shop called, "Bound for Pleasure: Discount Adult Toys") After supper we headed back to the room, where we spent too much time conversing (given the need to motorcycle away in the morning) . The chance to visit isn't, however, something which comes everyday. It was more than worth being a bit tired the next day. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat (well, apart from the getting lost and making Marna and Jon worry).
We took our time getting home, drove some nice roads, avoiding some spots where there was gravel (the worst was a transition from one road to the next. The lane was strewn with it, from one side to the other, with a couple of less crowded bits. Happily I was moving slowly enough that I didn't need to brake, and wasn't leaned enough to lose it, though I had a couple of worried moments. Marna says she saw the gravel, but never suspected I was nervous).
I did a fair amount of passing. The one which Marna really liked was the late-20s/early 30s driver of the Vette. He was wobbling, and not keeping speed. When I got a clear sightline, and passing marks on the road, I dropped a gear, slid out and opened the throttle. Marna said she gave him a coy wave, and then he was gone.
Got home, where we packed for the trip to Maine, where Andrew and Jazz were getting married. We got a late start on that, Marna needed a new helmet, which took longer than expected. I'd not gotten as much sleep the night before as I'd have liked, there was some slowing through Montreal. On the other hand, the Quebecois drive like mad. They are, for all I've heard horror stories about them, pretty good; even if a bit prone to speed. We made very good time.
It was windy, which was tiring. It wasn't steady, but rather buffetting. There was a spot where it slammed into me. Not hard, as when an older truck's bow wave hits me, but a solid shove. Got to the top of a hill and was moving to the right. An entire lane to the right. I knew it was clear, so I didn't fight too hard, but it was a bit disconcerting.
As the sun was dropping Marna tapped me to stop (we'd been working on how to get navigational cues without voice communication), and I jammed the brakes (the offramp was a bit sudden), and decided that I didn't want to head to Magog, and aimed the bike toward Ayer's Cliff. Parked the bike, and headed into a local estaminet. Another two-three hours, or so, to Maine, and neither of us was really up for it. Unknown roads, late hour, etc.
We looked at the menu and pondered a place to stay. "Wait... I keep forgetting about the eggplant" and Marna got up, went to the bar and found out that yes, this was an auberge and yes, they did have a room.
So we ordered our food (a structured meal, but we each wanted to select our main course from them menu at large; It was a success. The main course was decent, a wildfowl with mushrooms. It wasn't gamey, but there was a bit more flavor than in a chicken. Marna's escargot were perfect and my beet salad [a coarse purée, topped with cucumbers and lettuce sprouts] was wonderful. Desert was not included, but we ordered a caramel cake; also wonderful. The caramel was a layer between two of cake. It was very forward, but faded to a hint of dusty cocoa. Very nice with coffee),
To bed, and then in the morning to breakfast at Chez Maurice. I looked at the GPS, and it was a route which looked ok (certainly for distance), but it wasn't the route anyone knew. So we took A>B. not C. Oi....
The border... easy to get to... tedious to get through. That was abot half an hour of stop, wait, walk the bike a car length, etc. Then it was down through Vermont, and over to New Hampshire. New Hampshire had lots of motorcycles, and they were anti-social. The habit of dropping a hand to say hello got damn-all for response. I'd guess one in twelve. Marna says none of the people who actually responded to me had New Hampshire plates.
And the traffic. Oi... There was a place (just past Bartlett, where I got a lobster roll, and Marna got a grilled cheese) which had perfectly fine traffic lights, for day to day traffic. Not for this sort of weekend. It took about an hour to get two miles. Got across the border into Maine, and the people bikers seemed much friendlier. I don't get it.
Which isn't to say New Hampshire wasn't nice. The White Mountains, were lovely. The roads were pleasantly twisty (esp. when riding two-up), but Maine had less traffic, and the response to dropping a hand was a lot more consistent. Made it to Naples, found our way to the road to the camp (the family has a tradition of getting married here. In the twenties it was a boys camp, owned and operated by Andrews great-grandfather). Andrew had warned us the last bit was unpaved. It didn't look too bad, so I made the turn and headed in.
It had a couple of rough spots, but nothing the bike couldn't handle. Newer tires might have been nice, but the Z6s I was wearing are actually said to be pretty good for gravel, so I decided to trust them, and I was right.
Got our parking space, with half an hour to the wedding, changed, and waited on the bride. I headed back to the bike to make some phone calls (taking advantage of being in the States, and so not paying international rates to call), and collected some blueberries. Got back, waited another couple of minutes, found our seats and enjoyed a very nice (and fairly short) service, in the trees (only disturbed by powerboats a couple of times) on a small spit into the lake.
After which there was dinner, and a reception, and all the good things which go with a wedding. Somewhere in the semi-wee hours we headed to our bed.
ladymondegreen and akawil were a few hours away, visiting friends, we decided to make a day of it.The ride wasn't too bad. Her getting on and off the bike was a bit of a trial. The bike is 600 lbs, no luggage. When someone gets on, I have to keep it upright, while the extra weight moves about. It can be a bit tricky. Since the bike is taller, and the rear seat moreso, than the bike she's used to mounting, there were some difficult moments. But we got mounted, and moved out. The bike is really easy to move. Even with the extra weight on the back, she leaned in nicely, stood up politely and, by and large, felt not much different than she had when I was moving solo, with just luggage.
Mileage was about the same too. We did get out late, but that happens. We also had some horrid traffic. I spent about forty minutes "paddling" the bike at about 2 mph. We met up with
akawil and ladymondegreen , had a nice picnic and noticed the weather getting a bit less than stable. Took a look at the internet (God, I love technology) on akawil 's phone, saw a staggering amount of staggered thunderstorms off the lake.Called Ian, and were told the Ottawa weather was fit for neither man nor beast (there was a tornado nearby, in fact). Did some dithering, were joined by the friends of
akawil and ladymondegreen dashed to a nearby Timmies. We chatted some, decided the odds of being caught out in a storm were not good, and decided to get a room. Because of the trip they were making the next day, and the quirks of where they'd been staying, the four of us sharing a room seemed more reasonable than them going back, or the four of us getting two rooms.Marna asked
ladymondegreen if she wanted to ride on the back of the bike to the hotel. She said sure, so we kitted her out, and she got on. It was a pleasant ride, if somewhat plain. Though passing the Air Force Base/Land Warfare School was sort of homely. We checked in, dropped what gear there was and decided to head to a mall, do some shopping and get some dinner. Marna asked if ladymondegreenwanted to ride behind again, she said sure and so I got my gear on, double checked the directions, stuck the GPS in my pocket, and we headed out.Whence we promptly missed a turn, went too far, checked the map, got ourselves sorted out, and made another mistake. I'd found the route, but missed a complicated bit of staying on the road. We ended up in a dead-end by the rail-yard. In my defense, I missed the intricate connection, in part, because some yahoo with a truck had ten feet of kayak, with a steel-tipped prow, sticking out the back. Got turned around again, and got turned around.
We could have stopped to call, but
ladymondegreen's phone wasn't with her. We hit some construction, made some turns and I got (finally) to the street I was looking for. Pulled into the mall, got off the bike, headed in, immediately saw ladymondegreen's friends, and were told to hurry, lest we fail to catch Marna before she called the police.We were too late. It had taken about an hour, and some other things combined to make it look worse. 1: It was thought we were following the locals. 2: The locals decided to give the four of us some more time to visit byt ourselves. 3: They didn't answer their phone. Which caused some, not unreasonable, worries that we'd all had some sort of terrible wreck. Hugging, some words about calling (I could have; the rate on my phone when used in Canada is hideous, but worth avoiding that sort of thing. The killer was one minute adding to another).
So we headed out, looking for food. We ended up at a chain of some sort, because Belleville, Ont. is not the sort of place to be open at 9:30 of weekday evening (though it is the sort of place to have one of those roadside advertising carts touting the availability of a super-spiffy $100 vibrator, and a shop called, "Bound for Pleasure: Discount Adult Toys") After supper we headed back to the room, where we spent too much time conversing (given the need to motorcycle away in the morning) . The chance to visit isn't, however, something which comes everyday. It was more than worth being a bit tired the next day. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat (well, apart from the getting lost and making Marna and Jon worry).
We took our time getting home, drove some nice roads, avoiding some spots where there was gravel (the worst was a transition from one road to the next. The lane was strewn with it, from one side to the other, with a couple of less crowded bits. Happily I was moving slowly enough that I didn't need to brake, and wasn't leaned enough to lose it, though I had a couple of worried moments. Marna says she saw the gravel, but never suspected I was nervous).
I did a fair amount of passing. The one which Marna really liked was the late-20s/early 30s driver of the Vette. He was wobbling, and not keeping speed. When I got a clear sightline, and passing marks on the road, I dropped a gear, slid out and opened the throttle. Marna said she gave him a coy wave, and then he was gone.
Got home, where we packed for the trip to Maine, where Andrew and Jazz were getting married. We got a late start on that, Marna needed a new helmet, which took longer than expected. I'd not gotten as much sleep the night before as I'd have liked, there was some slowing through Montreal. On the other hand, the Quebecois drive like mad. They are, for all I've heard horror stories about them, pretty good; even if a bit prone to speed. We made very good time.
It was windy, which was tiring. It wasn't steady, but rather buffetting. There was a spot where it slammed into me. Not hard, as when an older truck's bow wave hits me, but a solid shove. Got to the top of a hill and was moving to the right. An entire lane to the right. I knew it was clear, so I didn't fight too hard, but it was a bit disconcerting.
As the sun was dropping Marna tapped me to stop (we'd been working on how to get navigational cues without voice communication), and I jammed the brakes (the offramp was a bit sudden), and decided that I didn't want to head to Magog, and aimed the bike toward Ayer's Cliff. Parked the bike, and headed into a local estaminet. Another two-three hours, or so, to Maine, and neither of us was really up for it. Unknown roads, late hour, etc.
We looked at the menu and pondered a place to stay. "Wait... I keep forgetting about the eggplant" and Marna got up, went to the bar and found out that yes, this was an auberge and yes, they did have a room.
So we ordered our food (a structured meal, but we each wanted to select our main course from them menu at large; It was a success. The main course was decent, a wildfowl with mushrooms. It wasn't gamey, but there was a bit more flavor than in a chicken. Marna's escargot were perfect and my beet salad [a coarse purée, topped with cucumbers and lettuce sprouts] was wonderful. Desert was not included, but we ordered a caramel cake; also wonderful. The caramel was a layer between two of cake. It was very forward, but faded to a hint of dusty cocoa. Very nice with coffee),
To bed, and then in the morning to breakfast at Chez Maurice. I looked at the GPS, and it was a route which looked ok (certainly for distance), but it wasn't the route anyone knew. So we took A>B. not C. Oi....
The border... easy to get to... tedious to get through. That was abot half an hour of stop, wait, walk the bike a car length, etc. Then it was down through Vermont, and over to New Hampshire. New Hampshire had lots of motorcycles, and they were anti-social. The habit of dropping a hand to say hello got damn-all for response. I'd guess one in twelve. Marna says none of the people who actually responded to me had New Hampshire plates.
And the traffic. Oi... There was a place (just past Bartlett, where I got a lobster roll, and Marna got a grilled cheese) which had perfectly fine traffic lights, for day to day traffic. Not for this sort of weekend. It took about an hour to get two miles. Got across the border into Maine, and the people bikers seemed much friendlier. I don't get it.
Which isn't to say New Hampshire wasn't nice. The White Mountains, were lovely. The roads were pleasantly twisty (esp. when riding two-up), but Maine had less traffic, and the response to dropping a hand was a lot more consistent. Made it to Naples, found our way to the road to the camp (the family has a tradition of getting married here. In the twenties it was a boys camp, owned and operated by Andrews great-grandfather). Andrew had warned us the last bit was unpaved. It didn't look too bad, so I made the turn and headed in.
It had a couple of rough spots, but nothing the bike couldn't handle. Newer tires might have been nice, but the Z6s I was wearing are actually said to be pretty good for gravel, so I decided to trust them, and I was right.
Got our parking space, with half an hour to the wedding, changed, and waited on the bride. I headed back to the bike to make some phone calls (taking advantage of being in the States, and so not paying international rates to call), and collected some blueberries. Got back, waited another couple of minutes, found our seats and enjoyed a very nice (and fairly short) service, in the trees (only disturbed by powerboats a couple of times) on a small spit into the lake.
After which there was dinner, and a reception, and all the good things which go with a wedding. Somewhere in the semi-wee hours we headed to our bed.
