SUMMER SOJOURN 2022

Backroads summer sojourn or how we spent our summer vacation…

How’d we spend it?

With a bunch of friends traipsing around Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine on a long 5-day weekend. For several years Backroads has held what we ended up calling the Summer Squeeze mostly running in and around West Dover, Vermont, and the Gray Ghost Inn. We felt it was time to change things up a bit and when we heard that the Ramapo 500 was not going to be held, we thought a weekend event around the same dates as RMC’s 500 would be a good thing. Thus the Summer Sojourn. Although this event was to start on a Friday, Shira and I wanted to grab a bit of pre-rally ride time and decided to spin up through Connecticut and Massachusetts the day before. Backroads Central to Holyoke, Massachusetts

A brisk morning started the day that would give way to summer July heat, but we made short work east over the Hudson and into the Nutmeg State with our rst stop being to visit the new Touratech Shop, right outside Danbury.

Touratech has been out tting adventure machines for years now and having an actual brick & mortar shop in our region is most excellent, and appreciated.

We spent some time talking bikes with Steve and one of the customers, Chris, who also happens to be a Backroads reader as well. If in the area it is well worth seeking out and spending some time perusing what they have to offer. From Danbury, we headed east, following the smallest and least congested pavement we could muster, and did a pretty good job of it all until Hartford where, after a quick stop at Mark Twain’s Home, we slithered around the rest of the city and made our way to the New England Motorcycle Museum, located in Rockville. Found in a beautifully restored 200 + year old textile mill building, which also holds its parent company – Kaplan Cycles. Dan Bisbee had written a piece on the museum a year or so back and recently Tony Lisanti had dropped by and sent us some images. So, with interest piqued, we rode that way to take in the museum ourselves. The verdict? This place is simply wonderful in every way. A serious collection of historic machines, and bikes from many of our pasts. They were kind enough to let us in on an off day, and let us take our time wandering around both oors and there is quite a lot to take in. Not just bikes, but the way the owner, Ken Kaplan, had envisioned and built the place. Little details, pieces of art, and odd moto-things spread here and there. Really a superb place full of eye candy for any real motorhead. But then there was the TZ750… oh, yes; and the story on this bike was even better. A true Ferrari in the Barn tale.

By the time we were ready to leave it was late afternoon and Shira had us vectoring back west a bit and north along the Connecticut River and Mount Tom Range – a rarely talked about small mountain range that runs north from the Long Island Sound along the river’s eastern valley. Barely noticeable in the south, at over 1,000 feet high here in the middle of the Bay State, Mount Tom dominates the view to the east. In the town of Holyoke, we took a room at the D Hotel Suites and Spa, which offered a great room, excellent Delany House restaurant and was just a bit north of yet another den of mystery that O’Life demanded we follow up. But to do so we’d have to get some sleep and prepare for a bit of time travel.

Holyoke to West Dover, Vermont

Brilliant sunlight burned through the paned window hitting my eyes and jump-starting my day, a full hour before I really needed to part company with Morpheus. Not wanting to wake my bride, I scooted down a few levels in the D Hotel in search of my morning pleasure of coffee. Returning to the room I saw her side of the bed was empty and I could hear the shower on. We were in no particular rush to go anywhere quick this day, so we took our time and grabbed a lite breakfast to hold us over till later in the morning and a bit further north.

But rst, following O’Life’s request, we backtracked a few miles down Route 5, which runs along the Connecticut River. Clearly marked along the side of the road…Dinosaur Prints. Que? Indeed. First described in the mid-19th century, these prints, found along the ancient sandstone on the banks of the river, originally were thought to be of giant birds, because of the similarity in shape of the three-toed bird and dinosaur feet. Well, except for the size of course. A very neat thing to see and good for Massachusetts to allow easy and free access to this bit of prehistoric history. On a more modern and solemn note, we rode up and over Mount Tom. The park these days is a peaceful and unexpected retreat from the bustle of the interstate below it, On July 9, 1946, at 10:21pm, a B-17 “Flying Fortress” bomber, converted into a transport plane, crashed into the southeast slope of Mt. Tom, outside of Holyoke, Massachusetts. The ight, en route to New York from Greenland, was to stop at Westover Field in Chicopee as the port of entry into the United States before continuing on to its nal destination. The passengers; 15 Coast Guardsmen, 4 Army Air Corps servicemen, 1 Red Cross of cial and 1 US Public Health Corps medical doctor were returning home after serving their country in Greenland during World War II. The 4 Army Air Corps crew members on the ight were also soon to be discharged after completing their honorable military service. While approaching Westover on a dark, rainy night, the plane struck the 1200-foot mountain about 300 feet below the summit. After tearing

through trees, the B-17 hit a rocky outcrop causing the aircraft to disintegrate and starting an intense re that burned for much of the night. Several people who were at the Mountain Park amusement park at the base of Mt. Tom that evening climbed up toward the accident site via an old cable railway roadbed but could not get close due to the heat of the res. In the morning, rescue crews found the bodies of the young men among the wreckage in the scarred and charred landscape. All were killed on impact. The crash was, at the time, the worst air disaster in New England’s history and the single largest loss of Coast Guard life outside of a maritime accident. A short hike along a well-worn trail can bring you to the crash site. The town of Holyoke seemed pretty neat and a return visit is needed, but this day I followed Shira’s lead north on some excellent tinier roads and smaller towns. We passed a sign for another tale of woe, the great Mill River Flood, that took out over 100 souls and four towns in less than an hour when a shoddy earthen dam failed and sent a pulverizing punch of water down from the Berkshires towards the Connecticut River Valley. On a happier note, the town of Shelbourne Falls was our late breakfast destination. Found along the Deer eld River this region had been used for centuries by local tribes as a place of peace and agreement. Everything within one day walk was set for hunting, shing, and absolutely no violence. Perhaps we can learn from these folks? The town’s Bridge of Flowers has been a centerpiece for over 100 years and this day it did not disappoint as it was in full bloom and as stunning as ever. After a stroll, breakfast, and a little store perusing (I bought Shira the smallest knife on the planet) we saddled up and headed north to West Dover and the Gray Ghost Inn – one of our ‘homes away from home.’ We had gotten there before everyone else and while settling in I went to open the house guitar … only to nd that, since last year, it had been seriously abused and left for dead.

Shira was going to spend the afternoon poolside looking very Hollywood starlet with her Camel Racing Hat and one piece and I was now on a small quest on the road to Brattleboro and the local guitar store for strings, pegs, and … well, you never know when you go into a shop full of Martins and Guilds.

By late that afternoon, the Gray Ghost’s lot was full of bikes, the guitar had some new strings and life and our Summer Sojourn was fully underway. Dinner was found and the Backroads House Band – They Suck - showed up as our friend Jon Bresner rolled in with a second guitar. Add in our man Roy on harmonica and we had a fairly rockin’ time on the porch that evening with the band back together.

West Dover to Sheburne, New Hampshire.

The routes to and from New Hampshire were handled and created by our friends Paul Donoghue and Kimberly Harvey. Both riders make solid routes and, personally, I was happy to let them handle it. I have routed, vectored, and sent riders down the wrong way far too often – let somebody else get the glory. Although their route was fun and covered some really sweet roads, I do not think they knew what they were routing through. The friends that rode with us got a behind the scene look at how we operate and how we rarely miss a point of interest. Historical, fantastic, odd, or mysterious. If it’s there we will usually stop for a look, and we did. In Cavendish we pulled off the road to take in the Historical Marker for Phineas Gage. We have mentioned this incredible story before but, for you latecomers, on Sept. 13, 1848, Gage was directing the blasting of the ledge in Cavendish for the Rutland & Burlington Railroad, which was laying tracks through the town. Blasting involved creating an explosive charge by pouring powder into a drilled hole, dropping in a fuse, and tamping it (gently!) with a heavy metal rod. Then pouring sand into the hole and tamping more vigorously to form a plug that would direct the force of the eventual explosion down into the rock. But not this day as it exploded prematurely and sent a 3.5-foot tamping iron through Gage’s face and out his skull. It passed through his left cheek, past behind his left eye, and out through the top of his head, landing nearly 100 feet away. The impact knocked Gage to the ground, where he lay convulsing. His men crowded around and a few minutes later he began to speak to them. Stunned that Gage was still alive, they decided to haul him by ox cart to the local tavern to see if anything could be done for him. Gage insisted on walking to the cart. And when it reached the town, he climbed down and walked to the tavern’s veranda to await the doctor who had been summoned. He survived, but underwent very bad personality issues – all this would eventually kill him – but his story still stands as one of the most amazing in American history. Our route would bring us across the Connecticut River and into New Hampshire. Riding into the White Mountains and heading towards the Presidential Range we rode through the little hamlet of Warren – the only town in the United States that has its own Redstone Missile. In these SpaceX days, you have to reach way back for this baby…This was the same rocket (really a missile) that they sent local Mercury astronaut Alan Shepard to climb upon and into space, what Shepard named,

Freedom 7. Shepard would go on to walk on the moon as well. The story of how and why the town has a Redstone in front of their Historical Society is one in itself. We did a walk through the Historical Society, as the door was open, and found some very interesting information, memorabilia and, well, history. We stopped for lunch in Lincoln and, sticking with the “Space” theme I dragged my friends to another historical marker. This one to Barney and Betty Hill. Yes, kids… THE Barney & Betty Hill – not Rubble. In 1961 this couple became the rst Close Encounter of the Third Kind. Their story, which is part of Project Blue Book, was well documented and has been told over and over. A light in the sky chasing their car down Route 3, north of Lincoln. Stopping to see a strange craft descending towards them… lost time and waking up in disarray, miles from where this all started, and with terrible foreboding and knowing they had been physically violated. I thought we just called that Vegas – but Hill’s story held up under intense scrutiny from the U.S. Air Force and still does. Thus, the legend and stories began. For us, it was our continued romp through the mountains on the Kancamagus and

then north to Mount Washington – stopping for some excellent food from Kimberly’s Gluten Free Food Kitchen Truck – the same Kimberly who helped put the route for this day’s ride together. Fun and food – an all-purpose gal, she is. Our home base for the next two days would be the Town & Country Inn, outside Shelbourne, New Hampshire. Featured last year in Backroads We’re Outta Here the place had nice rooms, a big bar, a pool, and a superb restaurant. Everything we could ask for – including a y-over by the International Space Station… something we, maybe, pay way too much attention to. Shelbourne, New Hampshire is a stone’s throw from Maine and there were several ride ideas and routes bandied about. For those that didn’t tackle the Auto Road up Mount Washington the previous day, there was that, but a few of us followed along on a route Shira had tossed together that would bring us to the Atlantic, just south of Freeport, Maine, and to the Harraseekett Lunch & Lobster Company. She had found Harraseekett through CandleBay Inn’s website – a wonderful spot for a base camp if visiting this part of Maine, especially if you have pooch in tow, as they are dog-friendly (candlebaymaine.com) Her route rode up and along Evans Notch on a road that followed the Wild River (one of the few rivers in North America that ows north) and seemed to shroud us in a canopy of green. The view of the Notch itself is a breathtaker and at 1,400 feet totally dominates the region with a combination of verdancy and stone.

As we got closer to the ocean the ground along the road took on a far sandier perspective and where else on the planet will you nd a Hardware Store that proudly sells lobster as well? We rode past the Desert of Maine – part natural wonder, part tourist trap, and then down to the harbor and our lobster lunch. For over 40 years, the Cof n family has strived to maintain a small-town family atmosphere. Delicious fresh seafood with a comfortable picnic feel, and a nice view of the harbor and shing boats coming and going. Nice nd for our Summer Sojourn. The ride back was a mix of lakes, forests, a “You Know It’s Gonna Come” Ice Cream stop, and then past Mount Washington, complete with a run-in with a bear before scooting back to the Town & Country. Most folks ate at the Town & Country’s excellent restaurant, but we rode into town for Italian. As the night wore on a good-size crowd began to gather under the New Hampshire stars. As Sunday rolled into Monday most everybody slipped back to their rooms to ready for the next day’s ride..

Up ‘til this day, we were blessed with bright days and warm temperatures, but one look at your friendly neighborhood weather app and we all knew that would quickly be changing as the day rolled on. A few of us took note of this, and had a quick bite, and then got o the road around 7 am, hoping to get in as many “dry” miles as possible before the deluge that was quickly approaching from the southwest.

Although many tried to make a shorter day of it by heading for the bigger roads, a group of us stuck with Paul’s route, which had been awesome all rally, so why play with a good thing? Today we playfully ran around the eastern edge of the Presidential Range and then across the river into Vermont before banking a bit north and west to Route 100 at Rochester – home to the Rochester Café & Country Store. The café has been a long-time supporter of Backroads and the new owner Stephanie has recently added a larger deck and a clean and spruced-up look to a Vermont staple. The food was great as always and their Maple Milkshakes are the stuff of legend. By this time the wet had caught up with us, yet the 80 or so mile dash south along Vermont’s much heralded Route 100 was pleasant if a bit on the soggy side. By early evening every bike and rider was accounted for and we had an excellent meal at the Gray Ghost, as Carina and company do so well, and were especially happy to have Allison and Simon from the Kitzhof Inn join us for the dinner as well as the entire weekend.

Adult beverages and a cheap house band, the solo act of Johnny Rocket, kept semi-quiet background tunes owing. It rained ferociously at times this night, but the morning brought a great day, and after breakfast, riders saddled up to began their journeys home. West Dover to Backroads Central

We have been to the region of Vermont many, many times – and have at least a half dozen routes to and from. I resurrected one from 2016 that I remembered being particularly awesome – and it was. Smaller roads heading south, then west towards the

Hudson, crossing at Rhinebeck, then south along the river, before heading west once again on Old Post Road, near the town of Esopus – one of the wildest rides in New York state that dropped us off at the Wallkill River – one of the other rivers that also runs north.

Early afternoon found us at the Elias Cole for lunch – always a great place to start or nish a Backroads event. Final Thoughts…

This was the twelfth Summer Rally we have held – and after the last few years, it was excellent to see familiar faces and just as much fun to meet

some new riders as well. Both Shira and I hope you enjoyed yourselves and come back for more. By the time you read this our Fall Fiesta will be in the books but the Spring Break is already set for June 8-12, 2023. You can nd the details in these pages and make sure to book EARLY – this time rooms are truly very limited. Come ride with us… far, with gusto, and on the Backroads! ,