CHECKS TO:
GAIL PURTAN FUND KARMANOS CANCER INSTITUTE 4100 JOHN R DETROIT, MI  48201
1-800-527-6266
"IN MEMORY OF MARY LOGSDON" - IN NOTE SECTION OF CHECK

JUNE 9, 2006

I left Waterbury Vermont, (note the name - and it's close association with H2O) at around 9:00 AM and headed for Barre, Vermont. There is a Harley Davidson dealer there and I needed to have the handle bars of the Ultra "tightened". I could move them vertically very easy. Since I considered that a bad thing, I headed for the dealer. This is the second dealer, that I have come in contact with, that started out as a family run business, and still is today. Very well run place, too. I talked with Roger, the Service Manager about my problem. I also mentioned the fact that I was burning up a lot of fuses on the brake/cruise circuit. The darn thing would go bust, but not on a regular basis. Intermittent problems - especially electrical intermittent problems - are a bear to take care of. Dan, the tech who got the short straw, had a brainstorm that I never thought of, and wish I had. He stuck a 20 amp fuse in that circuit.

I believe now, that his assertion that the extra lighting I have on the rear end was just enough to cause the fuse to go….. By the way, I am talking about the bike's rear end, not mine. I have NO lights on my rear end.  After two hours there, everything was fine - and still is. I would like to thank Chris for his patience in dealing with me. I couldn't make up my mind as to which rain suit to get. I finally settled on a new one, though, much to Chris' pleasure. Should you ever find yourself in Barre, Vermont, look up Wilkins Harley Davidson, Inc. They are good people, and seemed happy to help me out, even though I didn't have an appointment for the service bay.

Did I mention that it rained today? Did I mention that I bought a new rain suit, because I screwed up the other one when I set my bike down to rest in the middle of the street?

Even with the rain, I have to say that Vermont and New Hampshire, are astounding for the eyeballs. Even when I was trying to keep from drowning, I couldn't help but be enthralled by what I saw. Less than 20 minutes after leaving the Wilkins Dealership, I was back in rain gear and trying to breath water as I moved down the roads. Somewhere in eastern New Hampshire, I pulled into a Subway to get something hot. They had soup, so that is what I got. Also parked in the lot were three motorcycles from Maine. I talked with the owners, and found out they were on the way home. Home for them was four hours away.

The one bike had a single wheel trailer, that I knew was made in Tennessee. I had researched trailers for about 8 months before I found the one that I use. I bought it from R & W Trailers, in RICHMOND, MICHIGAN. I still can't believe how well that thing follows behind the Ultra. After I left my equally soaked biking friends at the Subway, I proceeded east down route 2. Just before the state line, I entered a 20 mile stretch of woods that was the most incredible sight I had seen in standing forest. I was moving through an immense stand of very large birch trees. The thing is, that it looked like the trunks had snow on them. What a cool sight that was, even in the pouring rain.

The birch forest disappeared just before I crossed into Maine. A mixture of hardwoods and pines took over from the birch trees of New Hampshire. Route 2 continued to slice it's way through the dense woods. For much of the trip through Vermont and New Hampshire, I had seen "MOOSE CROSSING" signs, easily numbering in the dozens. Sometimes there was a small plaque underneath that said "NEXT 5,000 FT" or "NEXT 5 MILES", but I never saw one Moose. Shortly after I got across the river separating Maine from New Hampshire, I actually found a Moose that could read. Just beyond the "MOOSE CROSSING" sign, there was a Moose. They are big animals. He was westbound on the north shoulder of the road. I saw him, but more importantly, HE saw ME. There would have been no contest between him and me, if he was intent on playing "chicken".

Speaking of which, I ate at the "Chicken Coop" in (I am NOT making this up) Mexico, Maine. I know, I know, lots of hands just shot up to ask questions, so I will do my best to sort out the bulk of them.

1. Yes, it IS called the Chicken Coop. It claims to have the best food in the entire area, "No brag, just fact" the sign says. So, I took them at their word and ordered the Stuffed (with seafood) Cod. It came with a baked potato. It was actually good, thank you very much. Knotty pine furniture, walls, etc. etc. belie the fact that it is called the Chicken Coop, though. They didn't ask me, but I could have told them what a REAL chicken coop looks like.
2. Yes, there IS a Mexico, Maine. The river that runs through town supports a paper mill, that uses the water. There is a rather picturesque series of fairly substantial water falls that also support the town's tourism. They would look even better without the mill on the shoreline. I did not see one person trying to leave Mexico by swimming the river. I didn't see anyone trying to stuff people in car trunks so that they could leave either. Hmmm I might have a business opportunity here.
 
I am wondering how many weird things are going to happen on this trip. The first was that old guy coming over to yell at Kevin for not working. Now I am having dinner in a chicken coop in Mexico, although neither of which tell the true story….

Is Rod Serling's spirit following me? Mary's put him up to it if he is. After dinner - which was very good, thank you - I decided to put more miles on the bike before I quit for the night.  I programmed the GPS to head me for Bangor, Maine. I was well on my way, but got nervous as the rain beat down harder. I was also concerned because Maine, like Vermont and New Hampshire, is a very rural state. The darker it got, the more concerned I was about meeting up with more of Bullwinkle's cousins. They have a complete disregard for anything that invades their world. And as the signs say, if you hit one of these baby's, they are going to ruin your entire day. I had never seen one live, until today. I have a new respect for them. I stumbled on to the Pinewood Motel, in Skowhegan, Maine. The website for the Pinewood is: www.thepinewoodmotel.com . It is a very clean place. I can't say anything bad about a proprietor who went and made coffee, so I could have some. They weren't scheduled to make coffee until the morning. But it's good stuff, and I am drinking it as I write. John, the co-owner with Donna, is originally from Michigan. He stayed out here after being discharged from the Service, because he fell in love with the area. I can't say I blame him at all. The mountains become more impressive as I move north and east.

Moving through these vertical and horizontal curves on the bike is an exercise in concentration and endurance. If you relax, you may find yourself in a very interesting situation before you know it. I have to remind myself to keep my attention well ahead of my real location so that if Bullwinkle T. Moose, or a vehicle suddenly enters the road from either side, appropriate actions can be taken. So far, only one west bound Moose has been of any concern.

Did I mention the rain? It has now gotten to the point that the trailer and the side bags and the tour trunk of the bike are wet inside. I may have to ride naked pretty soon. Crap, I am tired of this rain. It keeps my average daily mileage lower than I would like. It is tiring, literally.

I am sure that somewhere, in the mountains of this state, some Maineiac is building a large watercraft to hold his Holsteins so they won't drown. What a gorgeous place it is, though. I have not seen as much "junk collecting" homes as I did in Vermont or New Hampshire. It will be interesting to see what tomorrow brings.

Weather-wise, I know that it is supposed to rain. What a surprise. Now, if it were Arizona, I would expect people to be happy about the prospect of even more rain. This is - even by the local population's ascertion - unprecedented in memory.

I thought I was dragging the rain with me, but this is not true. It has been raining here, basically non stop, for two weeks. Remember, that is only 14 days so far, and the Bible says that it will never rain for 40 days and nights again. Some of the locals are starting to make bets, though. 

I have been on the road for 9 days. I can say that I am going through culture shock. I miss my family and friends. I miss the contact. I even miss getting up early to go and babysit for the most beautiful grand daughter ever born in human history. For those of you who might wonder who I am talking about; that would be none other than the best, if not the youngest Elvis impersonator known to history; the one, the only; Mariel Elise Logsdon.

Thengue, thengue, very much.

I almost bought an Elvis wig at the Elvis convention in Lake George, New York. That would have been cool. Perhaps some other time.
Mexico, Maine…. Who knew?

Oh one of the best signs I have seen so far……

PITCHER PERFECT SOUVENEERS …………

It was raining too hard to try to stop and check out that fact. I wasn't sure exactly what they were getting at, but it was too slippery to go back and check, although, I would have loved to do that. The sign was intriguing on so many levels, for so many reasons.

I guess, it will remain one of Life's mysteries. If it drives me crazy enough, I will return someday to find out just what the heck they were talking about.

Vahjayjay
Chicken Coop
Mexico, Maine
Pitcher Perfect
Geez, what's next????

I am learning SO much on this trip.

Tomorrow, I head for Fort Kent, Maine. I met a couple in the Chicken Coop who come from Fort Kent, or at least the wife did. I have promised Vera and Ed that I will stop at the local motel and mention the fact that they say "Hi". It is the last stop before you cross the border into Canada. From Fort Kent, I head east for Highway 1 and start south along one of the eastern most points in the United States.

I just looked outside. It is still raining. Can it get any wetter?
That rhetorical question was brought to you by "Madge" and her lifelong quest for a "quicker picker upper". I wonder how many reading this actually know what I am talking about? Respond to: drummajor@1stmichigan.com . There aren't any prizes, I am just curious.

I will sign off with this Haiku (a favorite form of poetry for me)

The Mountians of Maine
Hide goofy Moose and Squirrel
What else will I see?