- 151100 km on the bike
The breakfast this morning is typical for North America; ham
and eggs,
hash
browns and pancakes,
upon which one is expected to pour copious amounts of maple
syrup. This all comes with unlimited amounts of very weak coffee
and orange juice.
This is not an unhealthy selection - if that breakfast remains the
only meal of the day. It will certainly be my only food today. I am
however not so sure about the other guests at this B & B today;
a young couple from New
York who certainly look like they know what to do with fork and
knife.
We have a nice chat about travelling in Canada, but I feel restless
because the weather outside is just brilliant for motorbiking.
By 9.30 am I am on the road on route
114 heading south-west. The ride is fantastic an my bike eats
up the miles like a brewery horse eats sugar cubes. By 1 pm I have
reached St.
Stephen, where the St.
Croix river forms the border between New
Brunswick and Maine
in the United
States.
Having picked this Canadian
Bank Holiday weekend to cross into the United States proves to
be an unwise decision by myself; the queue at the border is about
half a mile long and it takes me one hour to reach the checkpoint.
Getting my visa
waiver takes only about five minutes, because I have been so many
times before in the United States. It is however noteworthy, that
the U.S.
customs have no record of my visits to this country prior to 1990
- paper records from the pre-computer age have obviously not been
transferred into the digital age.
Maine
State route number nine runs through a virtually unpopulated area.
I was wondering while queuing before the border why there were so
many Canadian banks offering ATM's
that dispense U.S.
dollars in St. Stephen. But seeing how deserted this part of Maine
is I begin to understand. As usual you can download my route and tracklog
here.
There is practically nothing in between the border and the town of
Bangor,
the northernmost inland city of New
England. Of course, for me the ride is gorgeous; the tarmac is
even better than in Canada, the weather is ideal and traffic is nonexistent.
Petrol is also cheaper than in Canada (about 3 dollars per U.S.
gallon).
By 5 pm I reach Bangor and find to my delight, that motel
accommodation is also about 30 percent cheaper in the U.S.
- 151550 km on the bike
The weather looks fine this morning when I set out at 10 am. The first 40 km I ride west on Interstate 95, but leave it at Palmyra and continue on highway 2. These backwater roads and the surrounding countryside are great biker country. Proof that I picked a fine route are the numerous local bikers which I meet on the road.
I reach the Kennebec
river and ride alongside it for a while. While it was a pleasant
65° F this morning in Bangor, it has slowly cooled down to a mere
58 degrees by noon. When I reach Rangeley
Lake I am pretty frozen, so I take a break at a convenience store
a few miles later, already in New
Hampshire near the Androscoggin
river. Thanks to the bucket-sized cup of tea I am given there
for 99 cents that break extends to nearly an hour. The lady owner
of the store warns me that this stretch of road is infamous for the
number of moose accidents.
I have hardly drive two miles from the store when I see cars in front
of me slowing down; a giant moose is standing right at the kerb. Of
course I take a picture, but I was obviously too excited to have a
steady hand - it is blurred. I promise to do better next time I see
a moose.
Another two miles on and an ambulance team is busy scraping a crashed
biker from the tarmac. I hope he was wearing protective kit. Many
bikers here are stupid, taking New Hampshire's motto "Live
Free or Die" very personal - they bike in Jeans and T-shirt,
without wearing even a helmet. It isn't a legal requirement to wear
a helmet here, but not wearing one has nothing to do with freedom,
but all the more with the bikers ego out-sizing his brain.
Soon I reach North
Stratford, where the Connecticut
river forms the border to Vermont.
At Newport
I finally stop for today, having done less than 400 km since this
morning. Around 11 pm heavy rain begins to fall.
- 151900 km on the bike
But luckily next morning all is dry again. The sky is overcast, and
the temperature similar to yesterday. But today I won't be cold and
put on a lot of extra clothing. At the motel reception they give away
free coffee, so I have a few cups and a chat with the receptionist.
That female is about 27 years old and has never ever in her life visited
any other country - not even Canada which is just three miles down
the road!
Such ignorance ought to be outlawed.
By 10 am I am on the road, heading west into Orleans
county. After just 10 miles I have another encounter with the
local wildlife; a Black
Bear gallops across the road, not 100 yards ahead of me. The bear
must be quite street-smart, as he times his crossing of the road perfectly
between myself and a car driving in opposite direction.
From Enosburg
Falls I follow the Missisquoi
river all the way to lake
Champlain. The land around the lake is fairly populated, but once
on the western shore and in Upstate
New York the land changes immediately. Most people outside the
United States associate the term "New York" exclusively
with New
York City. That association completely ignores the fact that the
state of New York contains some of the finest biking roads in the
northeast of the United States.
Soon after turning south from highway
11 I get the first glimpse of these roads; the Adirondack
range appears on the horizon.
The road begins to twist its way through the mountains. That's my
kind of motorbiking. However, some US motorists are obviously struggling
with this kind of roads and I see a couple of drastic displays of
driver incompetence in a very short time.
Just beyond Ellenburg a state
trooper waves me down. He has his pick-up parked in the middle
of the road with the lights flashing. He first talks to a truck driver
behind me. The truckie turns left and disappears down a side road.
Then he comes to me and explains that there was a severe crash ahead,
but as I am on a motorbike I could go on ahead if I feel confident
enough. Well, I certainly feel more confident then some of these Yank
drivers out here.
Soon I reach the scene of the crash; a two-ton van has veered off
the road and into the embankment, then crashed into a barrier. All
six tyres of the van are intact, so the driver must have encountered
an obstacle or simply has lost control of his vehicle. Van debris
and earth have splattered all over the highway, but I can easily navigate
through the mayhem.
Five miles down the road I take a break at this idyllic spot:
The red buildings in the picture are in fact the Lyon Mountain correctional facility, housing some of the current total of 2.3 million prisoners in US jails. At least these prisoners and their turnkeys have a splendid view of the mountains as well as very healthy and fresh air
I continue my ride southwards along the picturesque Schroon Lake. Many of the local motels are already full, because a lot of people took the opportunity to bridge this weekend until the fourth of July in two days.
So I continue south, following the Hudson
River until it turns east at Corinth.
By 6 pm I reach Saratoga
Springs and call it a day after 470 km.
- 152350 km on the bike
New York City is one day away, which means I could reach it this
evening. As it is known not to be a cheap place and considering that
tonight is the eve of Independence Day, I have decided to divert today
to New
Jersey and ride into town tomorrow for a quick look around. Let's
just hope that no spaced-out terrorist plans on blowing up Manhattan
on Independence day...
My ride today is a repeat of yesterdays ride, except that it is much
warmer, in the high 70's.
Around Albany
it gets a bit busy, especially so as the roundabout is an unknown
species in this part of the world. Instead inefficient traffic lights
are used at every intersection.
Most people naturally assume, that New York City is the capital of
the state of New York, but in fact it is Albany.
But after leaving that city I am soon surrounded by woodlands again.
My route basically runs along the border between New York, Massachusetts
and Connecticut
on highway
22.
To get to New Jersey I turn west towards Poughkeepsie
on the Hudson River. Beyond the river lies the Minnewaska
State Park - and here I find curves that (with some imagination)
can be called hairpins.
It is hardly believable that the place in above picture is just 50
miles away from Manhattan.
At Port
Jervis I reach New Jersey. I take a break to get some food. Eating
in the US is a bit of a problem for me; beer and soft drinks are far
too cold, coffee and tea far too weak and food portions far too big
for me. Yesterday evening I ordered a Wonton soup at a Chinese takeaway.
They served me about a gallon of soup.
Here now I order a small pizza. Instead I get a wagon wheel of 15
inches diameter. I can't eat more than half of it. I have to find
a solution for this problem, or I end up paying for food I can't eat
or become as fat as these Yankees.
I continue for another 30 miles and end the day at a cheap motel in
Netcong.
At 59 dollars and just a few miles outside overpriced New York they
have no Internet access, but with my external wireless antenna I pick
up the signal from the neighbouring Comfort Inn - where the room sells
at 119 dollars.
- 152750 km on the bike
You have seen me bypassing the cities of London and Paris so far.
Reason for this was that I do not really like big cities and also
have seen both of above cities long ago. But the Big
Apple is different, so today I have plotted a stroll through New
York City into Sally.
The ride goes mainly through the urbanized areas of Newark
and Jersey
City. The real fun starts when I reach the "corkscrew"
before the Lincoln
Tunnel on the western shore of the Hudson.
Lots of cops with cars and flashing top lights are supposedly there
to make Joe Public feel safe. They do spot checks - on maybe one in
200 cars. This is another way of saying that the three tunnels are
practically unprotected.
On the other side I emerge into the skyscraper maze of Manhattan.
The high buildings make the GPS loose sight of many satellites, so
it becomes a bit unreliable, but I manage nonetheless.
Down Broadway,
then a quick look round Lower
Manhattan, before I ride over the East
River on Brooklyn
Bridge into Brooklyn.
It is just after noon, and there is very little traffic. This will
change later this afternoon, when all the spectators for tonight's
fireworks display arrive.
I find that New York City has the most atrocious roads so far in North
America. Potholes, substandard repairs and sheer neglect make this
a very bumpy ride.
Given the bad city roads, I am not unhappy to cross over to Staten
Island on the Verrazano
bridge.
By 2 pm I am halfway back to Netcong. I take a break at a Chinese
restaurant. Chinese,
Japanese
or European
restaurants are as far as I can see by now the only places where Europeans
can eat. American
restaurants would kill us in weeks with their high fat, high protein
and low vitamin monster portions.
I find that they serve a "lunch menu" here. This menu is
supposed to get these US Americans through the remaining three or
four hours at their workplaces, before they stuff themselves with
a mega-dinner. So the size of the portions is something I can handle.
Of course, for me it will remain the one and only meal today. What
gets the locals through the afternoon gets any European going for
24 hours.
This might be the solution of my food problem; I may have a similar
lunch menu every day (this two-course lunch here costs five dollars),
and I am done with eating for the day for less money than it would
cost me in Europe to cook it myself.
After lunch I make another stopover at an auto parts shop and get
some motorbike cleaner and a new horn for Kitty - the twin horns Leo
and Alex fitted in Romania
last year have had their share of water, dirt and insects and have
packed up.
By 4 pm I am back and fit the new horn. My timing is perfect, as it
just starts to rain after I am back at the motel. Luckily here I can
park the bike under a roof, because this rain is not the worst to
come; there is a severe weather warning in place for the coming night
for most of the northern half of the Eastern
Seaboard.
- 152950 km on the bike
Below is the usual map with my GPS tracklog and some trip markers.