Wild Hondas

I had a great ride and at the very least it means I have something about which to blog. I belong to an internet forum, NT-owners.org. The members all have NT’s or at the very least they are very interested in them. There is a small cluster of participating NT owners in New England and we had our first Kittery, Maine “Rally”. Four of us, Karl, Max Alex and me decided to get together and kick tires, tell stories and have some lunch in Kittery Maine. Oh almost forgot Tom, Karl’s son, joined us as well but he was on his Victory Hammer. Excluding Tom, the average age of the group was 62.5 only slightly older than the average male NT owner.The plan was to meet at the Kittery Trading Post at noon. To make that deadline necessitated an early departure from Bangor, so I left my house at about 7:20. It was a remarkable morning, with the temperature in the low 50’s, light breeze and dark gray clouds that hung low in the sky. It reminded me of getting up and out of the B&B in St Andrews Scotland for a walk before breakfast, an east coast of Scotland May morning. I filled the tank with $3.99 gas at the Citgo station near Exit 189 on I-95. There was little traffic on route 1 as I headed to meet Alex at the McDonalds in Belfast. After introductions, a coffee and a pit stop, we departed for Kittery. Alex took the lead going west on route 3. The pavement was in good shape, the road is wide with a generous breakdown lane, and Alex knows the lay of the land. He slowed us down in all the danger spots and didn’t elsewhere. As we approached Augusta his local knowledge really came into play as we hit the back roads, avoided the trafficand magically appeared at the on ramp to I-95 in Gardner.

I took the lead as we headed south passed Freeport, Falmouth, and Portland and continued down to the Kennebunk rest area. Here we drained the bilges and stretched our legs. From there it was an easy cruise down to Kittery. Traffic was light and the ride down was reasonably uneventful except for a couple of wind gusts that really got my attention. Thankfully I was wearing brown trousers. It didn’t warm up much and the clouds continued to hang low.

It didn’t take long to locate Karl, Mac and Tom, just look for old guys and NT’s. We introduced ourselves, talked about the ride down and other pleasantries. Soon it was as though we were old friends. There was some exploring of the Kittery Trading Post. As you might guess it is outdoor equipment, guns, archery supplies, clothes, etc. By the way this place was amazing, especially for fishing gear both salt and fresh water. Eventually hunger began to get the better of us and when the piece of fudge that Mac bought didn’t sustain us it was time for lunch.

We set out for Wild Willy’s going north on route 1 based on the

advice of Norm, a greeter at the trading post. Where else would we go? Other than an unexpected stop for gas by Alex, the trip was easy. Wild Willy’s is all about burgers! I went with the Willy

burger with the works. Haven’t had such a good and sloppy burger in a long time. At some point we asked Tom, age 29, if he felt like he was with the Wild Hogs and he had to admit that he did. Karl thought that Wild Hondas was more appropriate. After some more stories and histories we finished those burgers and headed north. The sun had come out a little more and it had warmed up quite a bit.

The group exercised poor judgement and I was chosen to lead. I accidently led us off Route 1 on to route 9 and eventually pulled off were we could all talk this dilema. Karl wanted to go to the ocean and the very next intersection happened to be Beach Avenue, so we took a right and ended up at the beach in Kennebunk. A sea breeze cooled the air as water temperatures are still in the upper 30’s. This didn’t stop surfers from taking advantage of the waves. This was definitely the high rent district. I glanced around for George and Barbara but saw no evidence they were in town. After some more pictures, we decided with was time to head north so I could get in before dark.

We parte ways and headed home. Alex lead as we headed for Biddeford and route 1 which would take us to I-95. Away from the coast it was quite warm, at least while wearing a lined jacket. We buzzed up I-95 to I-295. At Gardiner, Alex and I parted ways as I thought it would be faster and there would be less likely of a chance meeting with a deer on I-95. Traffic was very light and the riding was easy. However, I did see some potholes between Waterville and Pittsfield that could swallow an NT whole. Be careful if you ride that stretch of I-95. The shadows were getting long as I pulled into Bangor, and the temperatures were falling. The breezes continued to be strong all the way up to Bangor but either I got used to them or the gusts weren’t as strong as earlier in the day.

The ride turned out to be 388.4 miles, my longest one day ride by more than 100 miles. Most of it was on the interstate, or slab as the experienced bikers call it. I probably put more slab miles on yesterday that all previous riding combined.

I learned two things. On the interstate, I was startled several times as cars passed me. This taught me to look over my shoulder before a lane change. Secondly I learned that toll booths are a real pain when you’re on a motorcycle. The primary reason is getting those gloves off and on. If I had it to do over again, I would have the lead rider pay tolls for the entire group so only one person has to take the gloves off and put them back on.