8/23/24
It's the weekend. One of the things I learned quickly as a retiree is that "tomorrow is always another day". Or at least I hope it is 'cause the alternative is unthinkable. In this context, I've learned to often forego the weekends with respect to "playing". Let the working stiffs have the world. Stay close to home, catch up on home things, relax and chill. They will go home Sunday afternoon and then you can have the whole world back.
But the weather was undeniable. True blue skies indicative of a strong high pressure system dries the air nicely. As I drink my coffee on the patio, the rising sun sends it's rays upon me, and I actually think I can feel the Vitamin D entering my body. The morning temperature is crisp, and it feels intoxicating as I breathe it in deeply. Nay I say to you, today I will share it with the weekenders.
Now the important decision - pick a toy. Looking at the forecast, me thinks tomorrow might be just as good, but a tad warmer, and Sunday equally so and maybe even a tad warmer still. So out of character, and counterintuative to the Retiree's Creed, tenatively, I'll plan to paddle with Tammy on Sunday (warmest day). Tomorrow being Saturday, I'll ride the Bush Pig, where the gravel offers less traffic anyway.
That means today, the FJR wins the prize. That settled, next question: Where do I go? I certainly could employ Pant's Principle - it doesn't matter 'cause it's all good. But today I'll be more direct. It's no secret that Pants has a thing for bridges. In the right state of mind (think... BAC, LOL), I could wax poetically about why I like bridges, but for now, it's sufficient to just say "they are cool". This summer, I'm in the land of Covered Bridges. I've stumbled upon a few thus far but today, I'm going to seek them out on my motorcycle. Some quick googling and I've got a route loaded into the Garmin XT. Time to gear up.
I head out of the ABB excited. Again, the air is crisp and although it's technically Mule Fritters (shameless Col. Potter plug), it sure seems like the FJR is a bit more snappy.
The locals call some of these bodies or water "Lakes" and some "Ponds". I can't figure out the distinction. Regardless, all is pretty quiet this early in the morning.
Now that I've come down off the mountain, it's warmer and I need to stop and shed a layer. These old wreckers are pretty cool.
I cross the State line into Vermont and stop at my first covered bridge.
This one was built almost 200 years ago, and it is stunningly gorgeoous.
I running Hwy 4 generally west and this road is very good. I get to Woodstock and this red bridge finds me right on cue.
The workmanship on these structures is first class,
I found a small city park in Woodstock, VT to stop and eat my sandwich. I parked on the main street and noticed the "Park Mobile" sign, the app that allows you to pay for the parking. I don't have it installed on my phone, so I took a chance and just walked to the adjacent picnic table to eat my lunch. Well, wouldn't you know it - the meter maid walked right up not 5 minutes later.
(Meter Maid, pointing to the FJR) "Is this you?"
(Pants) "Yes ma'am"
(MM) "You don't have to call me ma'am"
I keep forgetting that part
(Pants) "I don't have the app installed, but I can do it now if you want me to put some money in"
(MM) "No, you're fine. We Vermonters can show some southern hospitality too."
(Pants) "Yes Ma'am - thank you. Oops - sorry, force of habit."
(MM) "I was born in Texas. I get it. Just yanking your chain...."
Not to wear out my welcome, I finished lunch hastily and went on my way. After all, the day is young and there is much to see!
In general, I'm running the State highways up and down the Green Mountains. It's good, but by now it's getting crowded and I'm challenged to find the fine line between running my pace and not being a squid assholt biker. Thankfully, I'm stopping along the way.
I'm fascinated by the way some of the wood in New England "weathers". I think this black stuff is actually a mold or fungus of some kind. It looks really cool to me.
Here's another bridge I found. I really like how they create an arch bow by laminating boards together. Stunning.
Here's another fun fact about New England: these people love ice cream! Every day, I have NO problem finding my crux. Today's choice? Moose Tracks for the win.
The Green Mountains are beautiful.
Now mid-afternoon, I turned the bike generally south and east heading at least in the direction of home. Occassionally, I see a road on the GPS that looks inviting and I make a quick detour off my route to check it out.
Yeah - this is kind of like northwest Arkansas: you really can't go wrong.
Near Turnbridge, VT, I found this gem at a spry 150 years old.
The White River is gorgeous
A bit further up the road, yet another bridge. I passed on this one, the gravel leading up to it looked a bit loose.
Honestly, I lost count. But I think I stopped at about 10 bridges and enjoyed every one.
I got caught behind a couple of logging trucks and they would not play fair, so I just stopped at this store to let 'em get down the road. What a day, man.
That place had a great selection of ice cream. The "Blueberry Pie" ice cream made my mouth water a smidge. Alas, I passed as I was still fairly full from the pile of Moose Tracks. Another time.
Vermont Hwy 113 running either way is pretty good stuff, my friends.
Several weeks ago, when our friend Jasen found out where I was, he shared with me that he was born in Post Mills, VT. He gave me the address and casually mentioned that if I was ever in the neighborhood, he'd like a picture of the old place. I was all too honored to detour very slightly to it. This would have been one hell of a place to grow up from.
I'm having more fun than any legal activity should allow, but my arse and the angle of the sun are telling me that all good things must come to an end. So I re-trace back to the route and point the horse toward the barn.
This arch bow over truss bridge over the Connecticut River dividing Vermont and New Hampshire is quite nice.
Now 15 years and hundreds of thousands of miles into this "hobby", I must admit that my memory often confuses and dismisses the trips. But I will remember this day trip for a while.
Stay thirsty, my friends....
