Day 1 recap

So E and I rolled out of NYC at 9. Ran smack into brutal traffic on the Major Deegan, and ate up 90 minutes going 10 miles and overheating my bike.

We took NY 22 all the way from NTC to the Canadian border. 300 miles on one road, and it was great. Typical NY backroad highway. Sweeping curves, Slow down for small towns. (Add Ticonderoga to the list of places we've all heard of but never been.) It isn't interstate, so you don't make good time. In fact, you make terrible time. (see stats). but it's still the kind of road you'd take cross country if you could.

Some nasty stuff on the road. A full load of pressure treated 2x4s. A big pile of heavy steel chain. A ton of downed tree limbs. An 8 mile section of washboard. All survivable. All avoided where possible.

The part right north of the city is where all the money is. White Plains must have more Ferraris per capita than any place outside of California.

In Ticonderoga we stopped for a snack and to resituate ourselves. Ended up watchin a major storm come at us over the mountains. Took us a while to gear up and brace for it. We thought we were going to get nailed, but as it turned out we just caught the edge of it. 5 minutes of moderate rain and the wet roads. We rode into where the storm had been, and it was a mess. (Hence the treelimbs al over the place, and a couple complete downed trees.)

Eric's bike is holding up. For all the prep I did to mine, he's showing me that I could have said fuck it all and just rolled. he has a blown fork seal, a leaky carb, a back brake that freezes, a brake light that's operating 50% of the time and other electrical anomolies. But he's right here with me. Bike's still rolling. Can't say that i'm having a better time for having been anal about my bike.

Tried to get a room at the hotel Alejo recommended. No dice. But we found a place in the neighborhood. We're in the Adam's Morgan of Montreal, and it was Saturday night. Seriously, if you took AdMo and made everyone speak dirty French, we were there. We're wedged between there and boy's town, which is as you'd expect it to be on a sunday morning. It is the bar neighborhoods that have that look on Sunday morning that make you realize they were designed for Saturday night. Things that stand out at night are garish by day.

We were looking over restaurants and decided to go for the North American trifecta. America by day, Canada by night. Mexican for dinner. Food was lame, service was terrible. But the pitcher of Molson's went down super easy.

On the way home we got to watch the Montreal emergency services respond to a fresh accident. (Intoxicated kid rear ended another car.) Those firemen were like all Canadians. Polite, friendly, concerned, helpful, trusting and good looking.

Accomplished one of my goals for the trip: ride motorcycle to another country. Today we might hit another: eat lobster in Maine. I'll tick off the rest as we hit them. Stats to follow.