Monday, September 18, 2006

 

Safe In Maine

I arrived in Maine last night after a perfect two days riding with my brother. We arrived at the campsite in Niagra within 10 minutes of each other - is that planning or what! After we got our tents set up and gear unpacked we went out for a nice supper at Red Lobster then built a fire and got caught up (we may or may not have played some cribbage as well). The next morning we got rolling towards the tourist area by the Falls by 9 or so after breakfast at a flying saucer themed restaurant.

We went through the Ripley's Believe It Or Not Museum and browsed some of the shops - the falls itself was spectacular and I'll be posting photos soon of all my travels since I left Idaho heading east. On the way across the border into New York my brother appeared to have some kind of difficulty while passing through customs but I waited patiently while he got it sorted out and we quickly got through the city and on to some fantastic riding on secondary roads across upstate New York.

We didn't want to miss any of the scenery on Route 3 so we stopped in the tiny village of Cranberry Lake for the night not long after sunset, logging 300 miles for the day. The room was more of a camp than motel room but it was just perfect after the day's riding and the owner was pretty funny - she somehow thinks Brad Pitt looks like Fozzie Bear from Sesame Street. Again, we may or may not have played cribbage depending on who you talk to . . . . There was a small diner just a few steps away from the room and we had a nice homecooked breakfast with the local game warden and his cronies sitting one table over - the ambiance of the place was like a movie set.

We had a nice warmup ride the first 30 miles with the roads empty and the pavement perfect, twisting through a balsalm fir forest and just enough chill in the air to feel wonderfully alive. With my trusted riding partner finally by my side we had one of the best days riding of my life, just a hint of fall in the air and the leaves starting to turn, Route 3 connecting with Route 2 after just a brief stretch of interstate, one quaint little town after another connected by winding two lane begging to be gobbled up. We pulled into my brother's driveway just as the sun was setting on a perfect day - thanks Bro for meeting me in Niagra Falls and riding that last 700 miles with me, it was awesome all the way around!

Comments:
My " difficulty" in passing through the border was my loving brother's request that the border guard "jack me up" (give me a hard time. The border guard spent a few minutes questioning the origion of my Maine accent, acusing me of being from South Boston. He then confessed that Steve had asked that I be given a hard time. True brotherly friendship. The cribbage was a figment of my brother's imagination as. according to his records I did not win a game- that would be really hard to believe.
 
My " difficulty" in passing through the border was my loving brother's request that the border guard "jack me up" (give me a hard time. The border guard spent a few minutes questioning the origion of my Maine accent, acusing me of being from South Boston. He then confessed that Steve had asked that I be given a hard time. True brotherly friendship. The cribbage was a figment of my brother's imagination as. according to his records I did not win a game- that would be really hard to believe.
 
Good one, little bro, oh I mean, I'm sorry bro.
 
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