15 July 2017
Today was the start of the actual "Four Corners Tour," the clock starting when I got a computerized gas receipt from a Madawaska station (Mobil, in this case--the recommended Gulf station didn't have card readers on the pumps). I rode over to the "Four Corners Monument," parked my bike in the obvious spot, got out my serialized towel, draped it over the seat and took a picture. There were a couple of ladies tending the grounds, one of whom offered to take a picture with me in it--why not?
After some coaching we achieved the desired results, I packed everything up and headed south.
I've been listening to podcasts and music while I ride, but my ears are getting pretty sore, so I decided to trade earbuds for earplugs--much more comfortable. But now I had to provide my own entertainment, humming snatches of songs that seemed appropriate to the circumstances. I had one going through my head pretty much all day, but damned if I can remember what it was, this morning...
Down the east side of Maine on US1, fighting Garmin suggestions that really wanted me to cross over into Canada and take Hwy2--I can't believe that a couple of border crossings wouldn't obviate any advantage higher speeds there might engender.
But it took two hours to go 100 miles; I stopped at a handy rest stop just before US1 handed me over to US2A; that took me down to I-95 and its 75 mph speed limit. The shock of that was akin to...let me draw a comparison: you're used to bopping along on the freeway at 70+ miles an hour, and suddenly you're dumped onto one where the speed limit is 105, and some cars are doing 120. That's what it's like transitioning from 50 mph to 75 (half again as fast).
70 miles of that (with a gas stop thrown in--much worse mileage at 75 than 50) and I left it on US2 at Newport and resumed my irregular slowing for a few miles through every little town. Pretty country, though, if you like green, and trees, and rivers, and hills, and such.
Oh yeah, weather...started out fine, then clouded up like it was going to rain, sprinkled a couple of drops, then mostly cleared up again. Until I approached New Hampshire, where it felt like it was getting serious, to the point where I pulled over, put on rain gloves and put my phone in the tank bag. Half a mile later I was glad I'd done that, but three miles along it seemed like it was done again.
As I crossed into New Hampshire, I started thinking about lodging for the night--checking with Nuvi found a Comfort Inn within reasonable distance. Rather than take a chance, I pulled off the road and called: "Yes, we have a room--$229..." Eeek! Anybody cheaper around? "Our bargain chain, Fairbanks would be..." Called them, no rooms. Started working my way back up the list--Wayside Inn sounded...Ok. Called, and the man said they had rooms, at varying prices starting at $119. Damn, resort areas in the season! Ok, save me one, I'll be there in 45 minutes.
Did the Nuvi search, the only groceries were three miles west, but there was a restaurant on the premises. When I pulled in to the gravel parking lot the place looked almost deserted--bucolic, but empty. A little old lady tottered to the counter and myopically peered at me..."Martin?" Yes...
In the event, the restaurant was closed, and those remote groceries were "resort priced" also. The room's not bad--it's in an annex (the main house is some kind of historical), and although I was almost surprised by the fact, it has wi-fi.
Motel: $128.62 (there are always taxes)
Groceries: $18.02
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