Canada 2001
 
 

Day 09

October 9

 
 

We are finally headed south to land of sweet tea, hose pipes and grits. It's a good thing cause it's some kind of cold. This morning once again reminds me of why I invested in electric clothing. As we leave the gravel parking lot of the Beloin Motel, I wonder just how many years are left before this lovely site is replaced with an ode to profitability. We decide to follow Highway 1 a ways then jump on the slab to make some time. Front Royal is a long way off from where we are. As we motor down 1, I spot a lovely sea coast pull off and make a mental note of it. When Guy does his Wal-Mart thing, I beat a hasty retreat back to it and get some killer shots. Nothing like a great photo-op.

  
 
 
 

I figure he'll be on the phone for a while so I've got the time I need. I'm not wrong nor surprised. We're off on some nice roads to the slab, then the Kennebunkport sign appears. Guy wants to go look and see if we can find the Bush compound, and I'm all for it. Not much luck at first, but my stomach is sending panic messages again so I'm scanning for a feeding trough. Guy whizzes by one that looks promising, so I catch up with him. We head back and are not disappointed. Our waitress turns out to be a rider also with pretty blue eyes and a daddy that was a NYC bike patrolman. We have a lively conversation about bikes and she shows us her heel that was almost removed in a bike accident. Her comment –

“I knew better – I just wasn't wearing my protective gear that day.”

What a reminder to tote with you the rest of your days. It only takes one time and one mistake and you bear the results. She gives us good service, good food and good directions to the Bush compound. But security is so tight, there's no place to legally stop and take a picture of the compound. A few shots of the surrounding coast, and we're headed south again.

 
 
 
  We pass several beautiful New England coastal towns along the way. The harbors are magnificent, surrounded by the fall colors and adorned with the stately church steeples.  
 
 
  We make decent time to a little town called Milford. Besides a neat courthouse, which they call a town hall around there, the stores do not have bathrooms. So I get a really good look at the inside of the courthouse which has very nice facilities.  
 
 
  Off to Rhode Island and the traffic jam from …. I hear on the CB that the road is messed up big time, but we have no choice. I pick and weave I finally get on a back road to get us out of this mess. We pass through a small town with a strange name that I have to get a picture of.  
 
 
  Once we get to a quiet spot, we check our map and find we are not far from where we wanted to be anyway – US 44. We know where we are headed – Mashamoquet State Park. A little farther along, we make a quick stop to a grocery store, and I net us some great pork chops (got to be thin so they'll cook quickly), some beans and salad. When we arrive at the park, it's closed. Guy wants to stay, but this ain't Kansas, Toto - or Alabama either. The idea of be rousted from our tents in the middle of night and having to pack up is not a pleasant prospect. With houses close by, I'm pretty sure someone would get a call and they would not be happy. It woule be something like ‘Trespassing on state property'. So we're off again, headed for the slab. We find a hotel – the ‘cheapest in Connecticut' - $ 84. The sad part is, it probably is. I've spent a lot of time on these parts on business and nothing is cheap up here, not even advice. Now we're stuck with food and no place to cook. We wander over to the truck stop to get some grub, and I check out the store looking for a soft-side cooler for the meat. With no luck, I do the mental search through my stuff. Hmmm, zip-lock bags in the trunk, a poncho in the side bags – if the motel has an ice machine we are in tall cotton for tomorrow. Sure enough, ice is plenteous so I fill up the sink with ice, stash the chops and salad in it, cover it with a couple of towels, and we have an all-night refrigerator. Tomorrow, fresh ice in the ziplocs and we'll have pork chops for supper. I tap out quickly knowing tomorrow is going to be a long day – in more ways than I even know.