Girl Meets World on FZ-07 Motorcycle: Chapter 2, Part 18

Well, I think the only word that I can use to sum up this chapter with the FZ-07 would be "Serendipity." After our time in New York, my opinion of the east coast was starting out rather bleak, but life has a way of restoring my faith in humanity whenever it starts to take too much of a beating. That said- let's do the day by day! We woke up near the Hudson River, with not much love for New York, and as we packed up wet gear from another night of rain, Hollywood found a nice flashlight sitting right next to his Yamaha FZ-1 tire that we hadn't noticed the night before, having come into the spot after dark. Not a bad way to start the day. Maybe this was a good omen for things to come!

We followed the Hudson back to the main road, where the sun was finally shining, revealing how beautiful autumn really is. Yep, much better. Shortly after, we made it into Vermont, riding through beautiful mountain passes to quickly dropping temperatures and expanding cloud cover. We finally stopped in the town of Woodstock for a cup of hot cocoa and to determine what we wanted to do for the night. Our camping gear was pretty drenched, and there were no real camping spots nearby, so we ended up calling it a night, grabbing a cheap motel in White Junction, just outside New Hampshire, to dry out our gear once again.

The next morning, we headed toward the White Mountains. This was by far the most spectacular image of fall we had seen so far. The trees lining the roads made for what truly felt like a tunnel of foliage, and the vibrant leaves changed in color as the road descended into the valley. This was the experience I had been hoping for back in Michigan. We stopped by the ranger station, where we got a recommendation for some great camping spots, and we ended up camping in the White Mountain Basin next to a large pond.

On the way down, as we crossed briefly into Maine, we stopped on the shoulder to admire the scenery and happened upon some other riders on sport bikes ripping around the mountain. FINALLY SOMEONE ON SOMETHING OTHER THAN A HARLEY OR A BMW. We found our people! We stopped to chat for a bit and became fast friends. Luke, a rider on a CBR1000 invited us to use his home if we needed any maintenance while we were in Maine. The natural bond of riders has to be the best part of riding a motorcycle. We parted ways for the day, agreeing to meet up later, then settled into camp.

The next day we were determined to make it to Bar Harbor. We blitzed through a couple hundred miles (and by blitzed I mean to say we sat through slow traffic on the two lane road down onto the island), and parked at one of the few restaurants still open. (Apparently most of the island closes down for the winter in October). We saw a KLR parked in the lot, and naturally decided we’d share the spot.

No sooner did we pull off our helmets with an obligatory “we freaking made it!” hug and high five than the owner of the KLR came out of the restaurant to talk to us. Upon seeing our California and Colorado license plates, he immediately was ready for a story. It turned out he was going to be leaving Bar Harbor in a few weeks to take his bike all the way to the Baja Peninsula for the winter, which he apparently does every year. Again, THIS was our kind of people.

But here was the real kicker- Upon inquiring where we were staying for the night, he ended up offering us a room in his home, as he was regularly a couch-surfing host for weary travelers, and he was excited to share moto-travel stories. Talk about ending up in the right place at the right time! We opted to take him up on the offer, and spent the next couple days getting a guided tour of the island and learning about what it’s like riding south of the border into Baja. This will definitely be useful later on, because I really want to head south next.

After a couple nights of good times with some like-minded riders, we headed out to make our way south to avoid the encroaching winter. We finally got a fog free day, so we battled the wind to see the peak of Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park on the way, which offered 360 views of the entire island. Seriously. Just… Wow. Then it was back to battling slow traffic and icy cold temps on the way toward Portland, where we met up with Luke and the other riders we met in the White Mountains. They threw a bonfire in honor of new friends, and he, Lawrence, and the other members of their local club that they called RITFU (which so elegantly means Rip It The F-- Up) gave us a tour of their part of the world the next day. Great group of dudes.

When it was finally time to move on, Luke and Lawrence saw us off, riding with us to the Maine Turnpike, where we bid them farewell and promised to stay in touch. I have to say, the quality of the people we ran into in Maine was really just unbelievable. Eccentric, perhaps, but just such genuinely enthusiastic and good people. I really, really like Maine. It’s going to be hard to top the hospitality and happenstance of our time there, but I’m looking forward to seeing what else this half of the country has in store for us. Next stop, Cape Cod, Massachusetts!