17th October
I took yesterday off. I still felt a bit crap, and thought that an extra day’s enforced ‘got to bed late & get up early’ might cure it. It did – I wake this morning at 0700 feeling much better. I pack the bike, have a vast breakfast and, having programmed Bettie to take me the pretty way to Errol, a small town, chosen at random, near the Maine Border in northern New Hampshire, set off…
It’s a beautiful morning, but cold – the front which passed through yesterday, clearing the rain, has been replaced by cold air – I plug my heated jacket in and turn it to ‘low’. The bright morning sunshine picks out the brilliant colours of the turning leaves…
I ride north and east, planning to skirt around the edge of Boston as I head towards Maine, where Autumn is in full swing and the colours at their best. The bike’s running well – the memories of it hunting and surging are fading and, as I start to push the cornering speed a little, I’m pretty impressed with the new Dunlop tyres. I notice several examples of ‘pumpkin art’ on front lawns – a simple Jack O’ Lantern isn’t enough, it seems – I liked this one…
…I later see this equally inventive example…
I’m soon into the interminable series of ring roads which take me around Boston. There’s a lot of traffic and it takes me a while to get back out into the countryside again…
…as I head north towards the White Mountain National Forest. It soon becomes apparent that the parameters I’ve given Bettie for planning the route are unsatisfactory. She keeps steering me up wide 2 lane highways, alongside all the other ‘leaf peepers’. I recalculate the route, altering the ‘Custom’ settings to exclude everything but minor roads. This proves to be exactly the right thing to do…
…as she steers me down small side roads, heavily wooded and in their full autumnal glory – with virtually no traffic
…
I come into a small town and notice as eclectic collection of vehicles for sale as you’re likely to find.
Never thought I’d see a Hillman Imp in the USA…
It’s alongside a Porsche 944, a Triumph TR1 and some very exotic looking (but rusty and unloved) unidentified metal…
This particular car has to be the ugliest I’ve seen since I’ve been here – it’s hard to believe that it was ever considered marketable…
Anybody care to guess as to the identity of these two?
The town has a very pretty weir and hydro-electric station…
I stop for lunch at the Close to Home Restaurant in Sanbornville, and have a excellent meal comprising clam chowder, a lobster salad and apple pie. Not a typical Sunday lunch – but it filled a gap…
I was halfway through my meal before I realised I might not have been as welcome as I thought*…
I’m soon back on the road – the bike’s running faultlessly, the roads are smooth and dry and all’s well with the world (although I’ve turned the thermostat up on my jacket, and switched on the heated grips). I pass through several small villages – this one (South Effingham, I think) has a very imposing Masonic Lodge built on the hillside…
…and this rather well preserved old gentleman parked on the road below…
The weather is start to close in a bit and I’m pretty sure it’s going to start raining soon. I round a bend to find a dozen or so large birds running about in panic…
…I think they’re female wild turkeys.
Pretty soon the predicted rain starts to spot my visor. It’s about 1600 and I decide to set Bettie the task of finding me somewhere to stay tonight. She soon points me towards the Town & Country Motor Inn at Gorham, a family owned hotel, where I check into a pleasant room and, for the first time in a long time, turn the heater on…
*Members of the RAF are referred to as ‘Crabs’ by the other 2 ½ UK armed services…
I took yesterday off. I still felt a bit crap, and thought that an extra day’s enforced ‘got to bed late & get up early’ might cure it. It did – I wake this morning at 0700 feeling much better. I pack the bike, have a vast breakfast and, having programmed Bettie to take me the pretty way to Errol, a small town, chosen at random, near the Maine Border in northern New Hampshire, set off…
It’s a beautiful morning, but cold – the front which passed through yesterday, clearing the rain, has been replaced by cold air – I plug my heated jacket in and turn it to ‘low’. The bright morning sunshine picks out the brilliant colours of the turning leaves…
I ride north and east, planning to skirt around the edge of Boston as I head towards Maine, where Autumn is in full swing and the colours at their best. The bike’s running well – the memories of it hunting and surging are fading and, as I start to push the cornering speed a little, I’m pretty impressed with the new Dunlop tyres. I notice several examples of ‘pumpkin art’ on front lawns – a simple Jack O’ Lantern isn’t enough, it seems – I liked this one…
…I later see this equally inventive example…
I’m soon into the interminable series of ring roads which take me around Boston. There’s a lot of traffic and it takes me a while to get back out into the countryside again…
…as I head north towards the White Mountain National Forest. It soon becomes apparent that the parameters I’ve given Bettie for planning the route are unsatisfactory. She keeps steering me up wide 2 lane highways, alongside all the other ‘leaf peepers’. I recalculate the route, altering the ‘Custom’ settings to exclude everything but minor roads. This proves to be exactly the right thing to do…
…as she steers me down small side roads, heavily wooded and in their full autumnal glory – with virtually no traffic
…I come into a small town and notice as eclectic collection of vehicles for sale as you’re likely to find.
Never thought I’d see a Hillman Imp in the USA…
It’s alongside a Porsche 944, a Triumph TR1 and some very exotic looking (but rusty and unloved) unidentified metal…
This particular car has to be the ugliest I’ve seen since I’ve been here – it’s hard to believe that it was ever considered marketable…
Anybody care to guess as to the identity of these two?
The town has a very pretty weir and hydro-electric station…
I stop for lunch at the Close to Home Restaurant in Sanbornville, and have a excellent meal comprising clam chowder, a lobster salad and apple pie. Not a typical Sunday lunch – but it filled a gap…
I was halfway through my meal before I realised I might not have been as welcome as I thought*…
I’m soon back on the road – the bike’s running faultlessly, the roads are smooth and dry and all’s well with the world (although I’ve turned the thermostat up on my jacket, and switched on the heated grips). I pass through several small villages – this one (South Effingham, I think) has a very imposing Masonic Lodge built on the hillside…
…and this rather well preserved old gentleman parked on the road below…
The weather is start to close in a bit and I’m pretty sure it’s going to start raining soon. I round a bend to find a dozen or so large birds running about in panic…
…I think they’re female wild turkeys.
Pretty soon the predicted rain starts to spot my visor. It’s about 1600 and I decide to set Bettie the task of finding me somewhere to stay tonight. She soon points me towards the Town & Country Motor Inn at Gorham, a family owned hotel, where I check into a pleasant room and, for the first time in a long time, turn the heater on…
*Members of the RAF are referred to as ‘Crabs’ by the other 2 ½ UK armed services…
