Canada 2011
  
 

Day 13

August 6

  
     
 
This going to be just another one of those 'grind it out days' so I sleep in a little later than usual. Nothing waiting on the other end but another Super 8 Motel room in West Virginia, so I figure I can suit myself.  
 
I've got some two lane that I need to negotiate and I know it's going to be slow, as I have traversed this way before. But the green countryside is a welcome relief from the Interstate, though I don't believe I've ever seen a moose crossing on the slab.  
 
There's some nice New England vistas as I wind my way across New Hampshire toward Keene.  
 
And occasionally I will see a unique bridge or something else that catches my eye while I am in transit. As I make my way through Keene, one of their finest is in front of me. Being the law abiding citizen that I am, I make sure that I am well within the proper speed limits.  
 
I'm on highway 101 heading for highway 9, which will take me through Vermont and on into New York state. So this sign gives me hope as I press on.  
 
I remember these same vistas, only brightly colored from my previous trips into this area. Soon I pass a good diner that I experienced before. But time is slipping away and I decide I'd better press on. As things turn out, I just passed by one of my few opportunities for an early breakfast.  
 
I roll into Wilmington, Vermont which is quite typical of a small Vermont village.  
 
And you can't get much closer to the police station than this!  
 
I have to stop and get a picture of this old New England church house on my way through. A lot of old churches up here had graveyards adjoining them. The windows in the church were clear glass instead of stained glass, so the preacher could see the graveyard from the pulpit. This was to remind him that he was 'a dying man preaching to dying men' and should give him a sense of urgency and necessity as he brought his messages.  
 
As I crest a hill, the ubiquitous construction zone once again appears, in rather confusing fashion. I'm not exactly sure which lane I'm supposed to be in, so I pick one and go for it.  
 
I always enjoy passing through small towns that are flying my country's flag. I have flown a flag on the back of all of my ST1100s since the 9/11 tragedies. For all her problems, the world still turns to the USA when they are in trouble and I am proud to be one of her citizens.  
 
There happens to be a pretty old church in this town, so I grab a shot of it while I am at it.  
 
Further along, is another stately old church building in Old Bennington. People forget that the churches used to be the center and pillar of the communities. Now we have supposedly 'progressed' beyond that, but I think that we are no better for it.  
 
And just down the street is a strange looking old house, slowly succumbing to the perils of neglect. I presume it must have been an old boarding house at one time, judging by the many entrance doors on the ground floor. It troubles me to grand old structures like this slowly fall apart from lack of interest. Once they are gone, they are lost forever.  
 
Soon I cross over into New York State and highway 9 turns into Highway 7. About another 40 miles and I will back on the slab again for the rest of the day.  
 
Once I make it to I87, I see this magnificent flag flying in the breeze. In the Marines, we called it a 'holiday' flag. I've worked the USMC color guard trying to bring one down just like it without letting it touch the ground. I can tell you from experience in a hard wind it can lift several able-bodied men right off their feet as they try to grab it.  
 
It looks like the weather is not going to cooperate as the liquid sunshine starts to come down. Since I see a little bit of blue sky up ahead, I just tuck in and hope I can ride it out without getting into my rain gear.  
 
When I finally reach I81 at Binghamton, there's a Cracker Barrel, I'm starving, so I make a dash for it. A nice cup of hot chocolate warms my bones a bit then  
 
my favorite breakfast fills an empty stomach. When I'm rolling like this, I usually eat one meal in the morning and one when I get to where I'm going. This is more like a breakfast/lunch since I passed up my diner opportunity for breakfast earlier in the day.  
 
Unfortunately, when I come out the weather is nasty. For the next 2 1/2 hours I am riding in a downpour that is so heavy that I can hardly see. I once again become painfully aware that my rain suit is not a rain suit anymore, but merely a new way to collect water as it provides ample passages for the rain to insure that I am totally soaked.  
 

At my next gas stop, I see a feller headed north on a Harley. I tell him -

"I just came out of Binghamton and it was raining cats and dogs. Just thought I'd let you know in case you're headed that way."

He thanks me and then we talk a bit about riding and such. I mention in passing that this is one of worst areas I've ever seen for folks hanging out in the left lane piddling along. I tell him -

"Some folks need to figure out it's the pedal on the right not the one on the left."

He nods his head in agreement and I figure he'll use that line somewhere along the way.

  
 
It sure seems like a real long day, but I didn't think that I had gone far enough to get to here though I've been there before ...  
 
Ahead, I can see the wall of water rapidly approaching, so I pull off and try to get as waterproof as I can before it reaches me.  
 
Fortunately, this downpour is not a long as the first one, so I come back out into the dry. As I come through this steep West Virginia hill cut, I'm beginning to wonder if I'll hit the waterworks again. This is a place that I have been through several times during past adventures.  
 
It doesn't look promising for a dry ride, but I decide I'll just push and take it as it comes.  
 
Finally a bit of sun breaks through and I see something besides gray skies up ahead.  
 
I finally arrive at my Super 8 in Weston, West Virginia none too soon for me. It's been on of the mentally toughest days that I have ridden in a long time. I've covered over 730 miles, a good portion of it in heavy rain and I'm beat.  
 

When I check in, I always ask if I can just leave the key card in the room instead of stopping by the desk. Much to my surprise, the clerk tells me -

"No, you'll have to stop by the desk and check out."

I'm thinking "What's up with that?" but I manage to show a little discretion and keep my pie hole shut for once. I cannot remember when the last time I had to check out at the desk, but the rules is the rules and I'm too tired to discuss it. It's past 8:30 PM and I don't feel like looking for supper, so some water and a Snickers Bar I've put back will do. Since tomorrow will be a shorter day, I'm going to sleep til I wake up and maybe my internal batteries will be a little more charged in the morning. It's lights out quickly and it doesn't take me long to follow suite.