Breaking in the Venture – The Bugsplat Chronicles

The Saga Continues

Needing to check out Bugsplat’s new ride, we set out on a journey covering 4964 miles, 20 States, the District of Columbia and 5 Canadian Provinces. There was no fixed route or schedule except to return to Carrollton within 9 days. We actually spent 7 ½ days on the road.

Day 1 was about getting north. We passed thru Atlanta in a light rain that vanished as we moved north of the city. Then it was clear sailing until we stopped for lunch in north central NC. Here we decided to do some flower sniffing so we took a right turn in southern VA and ambled past farms and fields to Norfolk where we crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Tunnel to the Delmarva Peninsula. This engineering marvel is approximately 23 miles long over and under the Chesapeake Bay. It consists mostly of a low trestle structure interrupted by 2 tunnels of approximate 1 mile length each under major shipping channels and two high level bridges over other shipping channels. The Delmarva Peninsula was different than expected. One would think a coastal area this near major population centers would be infested with condominiums but instead it is mostly farming. We saw truck loads of tomatos too green to make fried green tomatos on their way to the ripening sheds and also a few chicken houses. We stopped for the night in southern Maryland and found excellent clams and such.

Daylight found us heading north into Delaware and across into DC where we visited both ends of Pennsylvania Avenue and lots of construction. From there we headed thru Baltimore to Philly. Here there was a wreck which snarled traffic and caused my bike to overheat. We pulled over and found a small stone wedged in the fan housing preventing it from turning. When the stone was removed all was well. We headed east into NJ and met our constant companions: construction and congestion. The turnpike would repeatedly go from 6 eastbound lanes to two for no apparent reason. We learned that it is possible to go from Philly to NYC in 1^st gear but you have to put your foot down a lot. We pulled off somewhere along the way, maybe Trenton, and saw something called “Grounds for Sculpture” which was like a township with sometimes life-like and sometimes surrealistic sculptures stuck in the oddest places. After passing thru NY we were able to open up the bikes and travel thru CT to RI where we turned off on secondary roads and went exploring for motels. Here the rain found us and we rode for about an hour before finding the Bates Motel 1. If you’re ever in a city with two motels – one named Castle Rock (sounds like Stephen King) and one something else, choose Castle Rock.

Daylight found us leaving RI and traveling back into CT where we hung a right and headed north thru MA to VT. Central RI and CT were more scenic than I imagined with their low stony hills and New England tidiness. We climbed thru western MA into VT where we saw moose crossing signs for the first time. VT and NH were disappointing because, while scenic, every road we took was under construction and it was tourist season making everything crowded. We cut back thru VT and NH to visit Laconia and pay our homage to bike week. From there we headed for Maine but you can’t get there easily because there are no roads in western Maine. We headed southeast to almost Portland where we picked up the turnpike and headed north to Bangor.

Maine has 12 people and all of them are nice. Outside Bangor it became clear that we were not going to find a motel before dark if we continued toward the border town of Calais so we returned to Bangor area. When we pulled into a likely looking spot and were greeted by a man who identified himself as “Insane Wayne from the State of Maine” we knew we had found our place. The innkeeper let us use the motel laundry to clean our wet clothes and directed us to a fabulous seafood restaurant where we matched accents with the locals and learned about gallagers. The innkeeper had taken drunk laundering Bob’s clothes so he had to deal with that and continue his conversations with “Insane Wayne” while I checked the weather channel.

The sun was shining at 5 AM when we started the bikes and headed down the Acadian peninsula toward our border crossing at Calais. This took maybe 3-4 hours during which we had two logging trucks as our only company thru an uninhabited area of low mountains, glacial lakes and bogs, and winding rivers. We stopped for breakfast in Calais, filled the tanks and had an uneventful border crossing into St. Stephen, NB. There was a coastal road and an interior road to St. John, our next waypoint. Following the advice of the station attendant, we followed the interior road which leads thru forests and farms with occasional views of the Bay of Fundy. Whenever the road opened up to the sea we got a blast of cold air off the north Atlantic which would suck the life out of any sentient being.

The Bay of Fundy is famous for having the most extreme tides in the world. They are on the order of 50’. The tide was out as we approached St. John and you could just see the edge of the sea far away. The famous reversing falls were running to the sea as we passed. Because the bay is funnel shaped with a narrow rocky opening, the ocean runs away faster than the bay can drain during low tide so the falls at the opening flow east; during periods of high tide the water can not flow into the bay fast enough to keep up with the ocean so the falls flow west. There are a multitude of other sights and attractions in St. John but the open road called. We went down to Moncton which would be a good base for a week long visit to New Brunswick. Here we headed southeast into Nova Scotia.

Arriving in Nova Scotia we found every plant in sight in full bloom. It looked and smelled like the inside of a florist shop. At one of our stops we commented on this and were told that this was their first week of spring, until that week it had been cold and rainy. Leaving NS we headed back thru NB to seek out the Confederation Bridge and entry to Prince Edward Island. The Confederation Bridge links mainland Canada with Prince Edward Island and is the longest bridge over ice covered waters in the world. The author of “Ann of Green Gables” was from PEI and many of the house incorporated green gables, in fact there is a complete “Ann of Green Gables” village. There was not a lot here to interest us so we crossed the bridge and headed north toward Quebec.

I think 88% of the population of Canada lives within 50 miles of the US border. I am sure that the further we got from the border, the more isolated everything became. The interior of NB was mostly pristine forests with an occasional fishing, farming, or logging village. The road mostly paralleled the St. John River at a distance. Bob and I got separated in construction and wound up maybe 50 miles apart when it was time to look for a motel and food. Using the cell phone we reconnected and eventually found Bates Motel 2 in the middle of nowhere near one of the crossings of the St. John. It was approaching 10PM and it was dark, cold and the road was hilly and twisty. We went back to a small village near the river crossing for food and met some nice people who talked with us for what seemed like hours.

It was foggy and cold as we set out the next morning toward Quebec but conditions improved as the day went out although the condition of the road did not. When we made our first stop in Quebec Province I noticed my luggage rack was a little wobbly but seemed ok. The scenery was nice as we entered the valley formed by the St. Lawrence Seaway but rapidly turned industrial as we turned west along the seaway toward Quebec and Montreal. The condition of the road was also not the greatest. At the city of Quebec we crossed to the north side of the seaway and followed the signs toward Montreal. Quebec was a frustrating province because, unlike the rest of Canada, everything was in French only. I can report that if you use your credit card to buy gas and the pump asks you something in French and you guess wrong, it will freeze your account. Montreal was congested but we found the road to Ottawa and quickly made our way to Ontario and an English speaking Province. From previous visits I know that there is a lot of scenic and historical stuff in Old Quebec but those were not to be part of this trip.

We hit Ottawa at rush hour and were greeted by friendly folks on the CB offering the “Georgia Bikers” advice and assistance on getting thru town and what to see. Bob and I had both visited Ottawa before so our goal was simply to get north of the city and find a motel before it rained. We almost made it – suffering thru a cold rain for about 30 minutes before we found a motel off the beaten path. We examined my luggage rack and found that the support brackets had cracked so we went to dinner then to Canada Tire which is like a department store for men and bought a duffel bag to off load most of the weight and some bungee cords to secure the rack.  We watched the weather channel that nite and learned there was a major storm system moving thru with cold rain and severe weather. This offered the choices of staying put for an additional day or continuing north to try to bypass the storm. This was the option we chose.

Morning found us heading north in a light rain toward parts unknown. We traveled north for hours then headed west on one of the northernmost paved east/west roads in Ontario. By now we had broken free of the bad weather and were in crisp, clear sunlight in an area of unspoiled wilderness. The route was winding but well paved and varied from 2 lane to 3 lane to 1 lane depending on the terrain. It seemed to be used mostly by tanker trucks hauling fuel to remote settlements. We found that my support bracket had broken thru entirely so we stopped at a Canada Tire and purchased duct tape and hose clamps and soon had it stronger than when new. We traveled on for several hours and came to a Yamaha shop specializing in snow mobiles and ATV’s. They had a full line of accessories including a luggage rack for my bike which they installed while we had lunch across the street. Now we were in good shape for the journey home.

We turned south and quickly caught the remnants of the storm. We had about 4 hours of cold rain as we made our way south toward Sault Ste Marie. We only had rain but people at gas stops who had come thru ahead of us reported cars being damaged by large hail. We passed thru the nickel and copper mining regions and broke out into the sunshine outside Sault Ste Marie where we made an uneventful border crossing and headed thru the UP of Michigan. We found shelter just north of the Straits of Mackinac connecting Lakes Huron and Michigan.

5 AM found us headed south thru the cold air off the lakes toward Saginaw and points south. To get away from the cold we moved inland to secondary roads and continued thru Toledo and Dayton toward Cincinnati. Arriving at Cincinnati at rush hour we chose to head west into Indiana and find another way across the Ohio River into KY. From KY it was just a straight shot home.

We were treated with extraordinary kindness and interest on our journey. It seemed like the further we got from home, the more people wanted to meet us and talk about our journey and things to see and do in their area. It is an incredible continent filled with exceptional people and we still have much more to see.