I rode the last few days through the New England states. I guerrilla camped a state forest in Rhode Island because I was sick of paying $20 just to pitch a tent. My first stealthy attempt was somewhat lazy, I only hid the bike and tent behind a large boulder. Either way it worked, no one saw or bothered me. I realized I never posted anything about the camping aspect of my trip so I included a couple extra photos from early on. I traveled with a two-person backpacking tent, a cheapo sleeping bag, foam mat, my old boyscout mess kit, and a little multi-fuel stove running on unleaded gasoline.
Do you see my campsite! I didn't think so. Success!
Picture from the other side... yeah it's hard to hide a sky blue tent. Epic failure.
Continued riding along the coast through Maine. Ate a crab meat roll for lunch while having a discussion with a local antiques collector about great places in Maine. I couldn't wait to try some fresh lobster but never got around to it, perhaps because the crab ended up in a large ziploc bag along with the rest of my stomach later that night. Also, most of Maine was covered in a smokey haze from the Canadian wildfires, the breathing of which only added to my sickness. I recovered enough to take a day trip up to Acadia though. Tiny park but awe inspiring views. In the winter, atop Cadillac Mountain, you can be the first to catch sunrise in the US.
I was pulled over just before the New Hampshire border for doing 48 in a 25 mph zone. I don't know if the American flag affixed to the back of my bike helped during those last few hours of Memorial Day but I got away with a warning and avoided a $215 fine.
I ran out of cash and only paid half the campsite fee at the national forest in New Hampshire. The next morning the camp host came out and implied I was thief, which seemed a little harsh considering the triviality of the situation. So I told her I'd stop at the atm and come back with the rest (as originally planned) but after our discussion I felt more inclined to follow her "advice", I had rode west toward Vermont instead. Before I left the state I was excited to stop at the "Old Man on the Mountain" site, as seen on the NH state quarter. It was a great morning too, the smokey haze cleared, the air smelled clean and fresh and the forests were shining their deep, intense greens that only a recent rain can bring out. And there was no tourist in sight; I had the place to myself. Turns out the Old Man wasn't even there. He passed away in 2003... apparently the rock "face" fell off the side of the mountain.
I never made to the national forest in Vermont. After eating at a roadside grill I asked the owners if I could just pitch a tent behind their restaurant since it was getting late, and their stories about moose wandering into the roadway at night were making me apprehensive about finishing the ride. They were an interesting old couple who also owned the farm across the road. They told me proud stories about celebrities who came through here including Jesse James and Sandra Bullock, who were also riding through on motorcycles back when they were together.
I had no urge to stop at Niagara Falls and there was nothing of particular interest in Ohio so I rode for Chicago. I raced home on the interstate through a constant rain with REO Speedwagon's Riding the Storm Out playing in my head. I made it to my friend's house in Whiting, IN just in time to prepare for the Zombie Walk through Chicago. Seeing as a I started the trip with a metal show at Reggie's rock club, I found it a fitting end to ride the last few miles home, looking undead... but feeling very much alive.
Zombies get sentimental too, ya know.
I was pulled over just before the New Hampshire border for doing 48 in a 25 mph zone. I don't know if the American flag affixed to the back of my bike helped during those last few hours of Memorial Day but I got away with a warning and avoided a $215 fine.
I ran out of cash and only paid half the campsite fee at the national forest in New Hampshire. The next morning the camp host came out and implied I was thief, which seemed a little harsh considering the triviality of the situation. So I told her I'd stop at the atm and come back with the rest (as originally planned) but after our discussion I felt more inclined to follow her "advice", I had rode west toward Vermont instead. Before I left the state I was excited to stop at the "Old Man on the Mountain" site, as seen on the NH state quarter. It was a great morning too, the smokey haze cleared, the air smelled clean and fresh and the forests were shining their deep, intense greens that only a recent rain can bring out. And there was no tourist in sight; I had the place to myself. Turns out the Old Man wasn't even there. He passed away in 2003... apparently the rock "face" fell off the side of the mountain.
I never made to the national forest in Vermont. After eating at a roadside grill I asked the owners if I could just pitch a tent behind their restaurant since it was getting late, and their stories about moose wandering into the roadway at night were making me apprehensive about finishing the ride. They were an interesting old couple who also owned the farm across the road. They told me proud stories about celebrities who came through here including Jesse James and Sandra Bullock, who were also riding through on motorcycles back when they were together.
I had no urge to stop at Niagara Falls and there was nothing of particular interest in Ohio so I rode for Chicago. I raced home on the interstate through a constant rain with REO Speedwagon's Riding the Storm Out playing in my head. I made it to my friend's house in Whiting, IN just in time to prepare for the Zombie Walk through Chicago. Seeing as a I started the trip with a metal show at Reggie's rock club, I found it a fitting end to ride the last few miles home, looking undead... but feeling very much alive.
Zombies get sentimental too, ya know.
