Story by Quint Marcaletti
Editor’s Note:This story was originally published the Oct. 2014 edition of the MSTA Ohio Chapter newsletter. The story has been edited to match the MSTA website’s style.
Mark Morel asked me sometime in May if I was planning STAR this year in Rapid City. I had been in that area after STAR 2012 in Avon, Colo. I said that I had read some reports about riding to Newfoundland and to the most eastern point in North America. Mark was excited…”Let’s do it!” It was on! Mark wanted an adventure bike for this trip, and ended up purchasing a new 2013 Suzuki 650 V-Strom Adventure just three weeks before heading out. Here’s a brief chronology of our adventure.
Saturday June 28
We were up early and on the road, and it seemed like in no time we crossed the Pennsylvania border. Temps climbed as the sun rose, and the gray slab hummed backwards under fresh rubber. Even in the heat, I remained pretty comfortable in my new gear — Firstgear Kathmandu jacket and Klim overland pants. The vents of the pants work great to let air through. Soon the New York border, Interstate 90 becomes the New York Thruway toll road, and tolls are such a pain on a bike if you don’t have E-Z Pass!
At a rest area some oblivious woman forced me to fully test my front brake with a full load. No harm no foul. Mark pulled out some of last night’s pizza from a well-crinkled foil ball and we called it breakfast. That, along with Camelback water, was less than the ultimate meal. A few hours of more slab and we were in Utica, N.Y., and finally off the toll road. We turned northeast on some really sweet back roads through the Adirondacks toward Ticonderoga.
At a stop I asked Mark, “First night, motel or camp?” He said “Hell, I’d camp every night if I could”. So I found Rogers Rock campground on Lake George that I had researched weeks before and we secured a small and semi-private site. Weather was warm but nice. We setup camp and immediately went for a dip in the lake. Dinner at a nearby restaurant with a cold beer tasted awesome. The drunk guy next door stumbled over and offered us to use his Coleman lantern before we settled in, which was soon after dark.
Sunday June 29
The daily idea was that we would look for non-chain restaurants with plenty of local cars. That usually works! We found a great breakfast spot, then it was on to the ferry across Lake Champlain. They actually sold maple syrup on this little craft — which was guided by cables laid across the channel.
Once off the ferry we were in Vermont, and wow did we pick some wonderfully scenic and practically deserted stretches of road across the entire state and halfway across New Hampshire. We found an interesting old covered bridge to stop for a break and pics. The weather could not have been better. In the little town of Warren, N.H., we saw a huge white rocket pointing vertically toward the skies — a leftover from the cold war — and stopped for some pics. An ATV trail passed nearby and a friendly fellow stopped and told us about a shortcut over gravel road where we would be likely to spot a moose, and also avoid some ‘touristy stuff.’ I found that statement a bit strange as it had been rather desolate all day. All that was about to change. We never did find that gravel road and saw no moose either.
As we got onto State Route 12 and the Kancamungus Highway, the Sunday traffic thickened. And as we neared Conway things slowed to a crawl. One of the waypoints I programmed into Mr. Garmin was a town called “Quint”. Well, apparently it’s more like a town that used to be, because we could find no sign of it. It was hot and I wasn’t going to waste any more time searching, so we took a few miles out of the way to visit Whitehorse Gear. It is more of a mail-order place than retail store, but lots of cool inventory to gawk at. We didn’t buy anything! I did some quick searching while there and did manage to locate a street by the name of ‘Quint’ close by, and we got a few pics.
Just north of Whitehorse was our next waypoint — Mt. Washington. You all know the frustration that comes with riding a motorcycle on great roads behind slow moving vehicles on a hot day. Well, maybe it was remnants from the Laconia rally, but there was a very high number of obnoxious and slow cruisers in the area mixed with your standard slow cage tourists (it WAS Sunday). To add to our frustration, Mt. Washington was closed due to a car race there. Jokingly, I asked the gate attendant if I could race my motorcycle. ‘NO,’ she replied wryly.
Then it was north to U.S. Route 2, and traffic thinned as we moved east. It looked as though thunderclouds were moving in but we welcomed the clouds and cooler air. We never did see a drop that day. It didn’t take long to hit the border of Maine. It’s easy to see why they call it “the pine tree state.” By this time we began looking for a place to stop for the night. Not a lot to choose from in this area, and we kept rolling while searching for a motel. The heat was making the thought of camping unattractive. We found a fleabag motel in Rumford — a pretty depressed town.
We had a really tough time finding a decent place to eat. Three different places we said no to based solely on the outside appearance, and we ended up settling for some mediocre Italian take-out. The nice part about Rumford is the falls, a really impressive set of three waterfalls and an electric power plant in the middle.
After dinner, Mark asked me to help him perform his regular ritual of leaning the bike over to lube the chain. As he bent down to spray the chain, I heard some expletives! I looked down to seem him pulling down his chain guard. A bolt had come out of the swingarm which allowed the rear of the guard to pivot upward and rub against the tire. There was over an inch of material ground off the plastic guard at one spot! We stole a bolt from another part of the bike fairing and improvised a fix. I spent some time re-organizing my packing. Ideally I wanted to leave one bag on the bike when at motels, to avoid having to carry it. That bag contains the tools, raingear, heated jacket liner and the like, but that was the only place left for the only pair of shoes (hiking boots) that I had besides my riding boots.
Monday June 30
Everything was running to schedule. The weather was great, and we proceeded out of town toward Bangor with forest and clear roads on the horizon. At some point we traded bikes for about 100 miles. What’s not to like about the new V-Strom Adventure 650? Sure it could use a few more ponies for passing in the upper rev range, but it has more than plenty low end grunt to make up for that. A good bit more torque than the previous version, by my feel, especially with all the gear Mark had loaded on the poor little beast. The suspension did not feel overwhelmed either, and it got great gas mileage. For the money, I’d say that bike is tough to beat. It even has a gear position indicator now! I’d recommend it to anyone, beginner or expert. A bigger windscreen and a better seat would be the only additions I would add for the long haul.
Monday was another hot one, in the low 90s at peak. But still nothing compared to two years ago going to and coming from STAR in Colorado. We found a small rest area to take a break next to a stream. Had to strip down and take a dip. The dark yet pleasant smell of pine forest in the heat was powerful and constant. We took a southern turn at a town called Wesley. It consisted of nothing more than three houses, I think, which is why we missed our road and had to make a U-turn. Next it was onto U.S. Route 1 and east to our destination for the day: Quoddy Head State Park — the most easterly point in the USA. But first, a stop for a lobster footlong at Subway!
Going over a hill the temps went from 91 to 62F in a matter of three miles! A gorgeous shoreline and a four-mile coastline hike awaited us at the park. We camped that night at a place nearby where Mark had been before — an awesome private campsite. We watched the tide get lower and lower — here they change nearly 30 feet! A seal played and dove for food in the bay. Snack food for dinner was fine, with the great views of sunset over the bay.