Maine 2015
  
 

Day 08

August 3

  
   
  When I pick a place to put in for the night, I always try to find a motel that has fuel and food in walking distances. With this Super 8, I saw that there was a diner across the street so breakfast for today is sorted.  
   
  And this proves to be the real deal from the wonderful hot chocolate ...  
   
  to a scrumptious omelet with home fries. This stop goes in my 'list' of places to remember and use again.  
   
  Although I am no longer near the ocean, that same pesky evaporative effect takes over on this plate of food also.  
   
 

I've got a good night's rest and a great meal under my belt, so I am off down the I81, the 'trucker's highway'.

  
   
  When I pass this sign, I can only wish - as Scotland over across the pond is one of my favorite places to ride on two wheels.  
   
  Pennsylvania has lots of good looking barns I can see from the concrete ribbon - not like most of the ramshackle affairs that I remember back home.  
   
  And it seems if today the road is not nearly as complicated with constant traffic jams as it was yesterday. And for that I am tremendously grateful.  
   
  I figure this area must be a big apple growing area since they have turned their water tower into a 'basket' of apples.  
   
  Soon enough, it's time for a fueling and defueling. Today I can feel the temps rising with each mile I get closer to home.  
   
  But there is always the construction zone to remind me that such are the vulgarities of the highway.  
   
 

At my next gas stop, I see a BMW trike, not a common sight. This is done very nicely and the owner calls it the Phoenix, He tells me that is was burnt once and crashed once. His riding buddy on a Honda Goldwing trike tells me -

"He should call it the Jinx instead of the Phoenix."

We both chuckle at that one.

  
   
  Soon they are on to where they are headed and so am I.  
   
  Along the way I see a lovely Cross and the lovely Flag, both symbols that are near and dear to my heart.  
   
  But I am really happy to see this sign, as I know it is only 300 more miles to the Holler.  
   
 

The heat is really getting bad, so I make a 'redhyration' stop for me. I am drier than a powder keg and I need a little break before I make the final dash home.

  
   
  When I see the Batman Building in Nashville proper, I know I'll be home in short order.  
   
  When I pull into the Holler, I feel like I'm one of those lobsters that was steamed up in Maine. But it's good to be home safe and sound with more memories to add to my ever-growing collection. For at the end of the day, all we take with us are our memories.