Day 6 - Kittery, ME

205 miles today

Forced myself to stay awake late last night in an effort to thwart the rooster-waker I become on these trips. It was 11:00 before I pulled out of the motel though. Why? Because it was raining, overcast, miserable, and colder than a mother-in-law's kiss. I puttered around delaying my start as much as I could. At least it gave me the opportunity to download last night's blog entry...from the breakfast (if you could call it that) room and not, as you may surmise from my room. But, to paraphrase the most current of sayings, feces occurs. You call and they come to pick you up. And all for $5.00. Believe me, at these temperatures I'd have paid much more. The short ride across the lake cut 25 cold and wet miles off the trip. Good friends talking on the way across. I know what they were talking about. "Saturday nite we're going to have a few bee-ahs with the nay-bahs. Y'all come on by, A? And I thought these captains were master mariners. Even I couldn't get lost with this setup. About 12 miles from the ferry crossing I stopped here to don balaclava and woolen gloves. By the time I pulled out I was bundled up tighter than a Muslim virgin. One of the 74, I'm sure. The ride from here to I-87 in Lebanon, NH would have been a great ride on a clear and warm summer day. Very reminiscent of the National Forest roads in the Rockies. Lots of twisties and turns with the river switching sides as if it could never make up its mind where it wanted to be. But today...it was more barrier than a blessing. There was a light drizzle the entire day and, with the roads wet, you just didn't want to apply any power to the back tire on any turn. So, I crept down the mountain at the posted speed limit. My original plan was to turn north at Lebanon, NH to Concord, then head east through Lewiston, ME with the A-1 Diner just south of Augusta my target. But it was colder than a lawyer's checkbook, and when I noticed the Red Arrow Diner was just down the road in Manchester, a change in plans was in order. This means I won't end up in the Bath/Boothbay Harbor area I was also targeting, but what the hey...innovate, adapt, overcome. Arrived in Manchester about 2:30pm with a big-time need to eat, rest, and get warm. The Red Arrow was just what the doctor ordered. I took a booth (it wasn't a busy time) and started peeling off the layers. It took some time. I was warm everywhere except my hands and feet. A little water had surreptitiously entered around the back of my neck and that, too, wasn't very pleasant, but with me, it's the hands and feet. If they are cold, I am cold. I was actually shaking while drinking the first two cups of coffee. Looked like the DTs. But I settled down and had fried Halibut with french fries, and coleslaw and about five cups of great coffee. The food was excellent, including the coconut cream pie topping off the meal. As was to be expected with a place so touted, the food was not diner-greasy. The french fries were the equal of any I've had anywhere.   A very pleasant meal. It seems everyone has been here, evidently, it's a favorite haunt of Adam Sandler (a local boy, I'm told) and Bare Naked Ladies (they even wrote a song about it), and, of course, every politician who ever ran for president has been there caging votes along with a meal or two. According to the plaques on the seats, Hilary Clinton sat in the booth across from me while my seat was once occupied by the BNLadies. Of course, not at the same time. And it was the band that was bare, not Hilary. If you thought otherwise you've got her mixed up with her husband...again. Finished and, regretfully, out of delaying tactics, I went outside to saddle up. I felt like the Cumberland (college) football player in 1916, who, near the end of the game, was sitting on the Ga. Tech bench. Coach Heisman (yeah, that one), concerned that the player was shaken up, went over and asked him did he know he was on the wrong bench. The player responded, "Yeah, coach...but if I go back over there they'll put me back in." That's how I felt about going back into this weather. (Ga. Tech won 222-0, the worst defeat in college football history.) When I first tried to crank Betsy I got nothing. I mean zilch. Hit the starter and listen to the silence. This same thing happened the other night in Columbus. I think something gets wet and it just doesn't make contact at all. Don't know what makes it stop, but after sitting a minute or two it, eventually, gets enough of a connection to fire up. This battery is five years old so, perhaps, it's starting to tell me something. The only problem is, once it connects, it seems to have plenty of power. This will bear watching. Left Manchester all bundled up and, fairly warm for the trip north to Maine. I really wanted to spend more time here, but there's nothing I want to do in this weather, except get out of it, so, tomorrow I head south to see my friends Bob and Karen K. It'll be fun. They live in Litchfield, CT and it is such a unique place. I'm hoping, on the way, to meet up with Nomad Willie, a motorcycle-riding friend of a friend I was introduced to on Facebook. He lives in Uxbridge, MA. We'll tell tall tales about Fleeter.