Double nighting in North Conway at the Schoolhouse Motel, (complete with school bell) we had the chance to leisurely explore the area. Our first day out on the road took us to the Kancamagus Highway, or the Kanc as it is lovingly nicknamed by the locals, a beautiful stretch of highway that winds through the scenic and wild White Mountains. Parallelling the Swift River at points, we passed idly flowing water, sluicing around white rocks littered with bodies of sun worshipers and bathers.
At the summit of the Kanc, we stopped for lunch where we were accompanied by mountains ranging into the mist and a parade of motorcycles and cars stopping to catch the view. Over the hill and into Woodstock, we circled around for the return trip. Puddled roads and news flashes from rest stop weathermen, assured us that there had been a downpour party we didn't make! Once again, our ride was enchanted. The promise of an appointment for massages, kept us focused, but we couldn't miss the Bear Notch Road, which proved to be the best ride of the day!
Heating our engine through the snail trail traffic of Conway, we barely made our massage, but a gentle and lovely lady calmed us into nirvana as road tensions smoothed away, and our bodies and spirits were renewed.
A late dinner saw us home and after a dreamless night, we woke in full sunlight. Ready to tackle the weekend traffic on Mt. Washington, we headed out. Throngs of vacationers kept us from breakfast in Conway. Miles outside of the city a Dunkin' had a drive up line of at least twenty cars, and people were waiting for parking spots in the lot. Get us out of here!
In Jackson we turned off on 16a and finally found respite and breakfast at great little deli where we were served amazing freshly made food in minutes, and they had great coffee, which wasn't branded.
Onto the mountain! The last time we rode this, it was motorcycles only during the Laconia Rally. Today was quite a different challenge. A mountain road with no guard rails and sharply ascending curves is enough of a battle, but following a white-knuckled mini-van driver going less than 10 mph, made it difficult for Rascal to get the speed to lean into the curves like she loves to do.
A few times we broke free and soared into the wind and the icy cold as my heart leapt down into the abyss we had just conquered. I will never be a blasé rider on these mountain rides and my innate fear of height will always return, but the gut wrenching thrill that inevitably comes to wipe the negative keeps me hopping on the back of the bike. Every day I thank Jules, my love, my guide and my Shrink, for making me face my fears and embrace them with all my heart.
Into the mild, we rode from New Hampshire to Maine on Route 2, a lovely bucolic route, peppered with dairy and potato farms. Tonight we rest Rascal in Farmington.
Blue sky, fluffy cloud weather, that is a topic of conversation everywhere we go, has followed us for the last two days. Lavished by Nature's good will, we will gratefully take this weather and bank it, so when we arrive rain soaked from an adventure in another world, the warmth of these few days will balance the scales. Then, no matter what the weather, we can always say " It's a great day for a ride!"
Chillin' in the river
Top of the Kanc
Happy Riders
Have yet to see one! Maybe we don't want to...
Morning ritual
Enough said!
And here's the gravel
Livin' on the edge
The valley below
Let's play chicken!
We made it!
The cog train
I opted for Rascal
The ride down
Peaceful picnic
We must be in Maine
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