Thru the Peephole: Musings on the Strange, Interesting, and Maddening Characters We Meet “On the Road”
By Allan Gereg of St. Clairsville, Ohio.
Chapter 8: Tickle-Naked in Vermont–Lobsters, LongNecks, and “Miss Burlington”
After traveling Out West, north to Canada, and south to Tennessee, I guess it was time to journey to New England. It was quite different than our other trips… there seems to be more Interstates and fourlanes, crowded with Crash Happy Maniacs on four wheels going Nowhere Fast… Really Fast! We managed to survive the first portion of the trip to the Connecticut seashore, where we switched to the more scenic Route 1 at New Haven. Of course, this was not the answer, since traffic jams abounded on the route thru all the small towns… stop&go traffic for miles. My poor Beemer just moaned for relief in the hot summer sun… “Help! Help!! Get Me Outta Here!!”, the valve tappets seemed to be pounding out in Morse Code! We finally couldn’t take it anymore and headed north on the Interstate (thus, we missed passing thru “Little Rhodey”… when will we ever see her?). The Connecticut countryside was surprising… dark, thickly forested hills… I expected little open space and more suburbs in this tiny state.
We felt we were getting into the “meat” of New England when we stopped at a little fast-food joint for lunch… a seafood place that served, among other things, fresh, steamed clams… and , of course, you had your choice… with or without bellies…?… there’s a real question for a landlubber from Ohio… You mean Clams have Bellies?… and you can actually Eat them? (Arghh!) Yes, they were good, Bellies and all!
When we crossed the border into New Hampshire, the first thing noticeable were the hundreds of signs for liquor stores (since NH has no state sales tax and evidently low liquor taxes, it makes Booze real cheap!) Well, we were just obliged to stop… it was, like a civic duty, to strengthen the economy, ya know!… and buy some whisky to Fortify our Souls along the way.
Onward, up towards the corner of the map we headed, passing thru the Trading Post cum Outlet towns like Kittery and the Yorks. At last, we found a motel to our liking around Wells,Maine, unloaded our bikes and hunted for some food (not unlike the legendary J.Clampett, when he made his millions in the Oil Industry!). Doug noticed the sign along the highway advertising Lobster & Beer… $5.50, at this small, outside-in restaurant called Lobsters in the Rough… picnic tables were strewn across the rocky ground with a little indoor dining room and bar. The lobsters were small soft-shells, but still good… and the beer tasted even better… and one beer led to another, etc… More beer brought more hunger… time to try the steamed clams… Oh, a choice of Cherrystones or LongNecks, huh?… LongNecks sound meatier… The old blackbord menu gave a price of $3.95 - but for how many?… six or a dozen, maybe… We both ordered a batch… Wholly Hell!!… we got two big bucketsful of steamed clams… there were enough here for us… and the Boston Red Sox! As the evening wore on, so did the drinks… which were being served by a cute brunette barmaid… Well, Im pretty sure she was cute… isn’t it funny how The Beauty of the Barmaid is in direct proportion to the Number of Drinks under one’s belt? We discovered that she was a college girl down from Burlington, Vermont for the summer… the longer we stayed (and drank), the prettier she got!… finally, we unscrewed ourselves from the barstools, headed back to the motel (thank Goodness, it was close by), and watched the end of the Miss America Pageant on TV. We broke out the whisky bottle and booed the ugly contestants and vowed that Miss Burlington from the bar, had them all beat!
Needless to say, things were a bit fuzzy the next morning. We did manage to find a quaint little place to eat a late breakfast… The Maine Diner right on the highway in Wells… great homemade, fresh blueberry muffins (blueberries, I hear, are a sure cure for a hangover !??). We continued up thru old New England towns like Kennebunkport, saw the signs for Old Orchard Beach (a Harley Haven, I hear), Sacco, and Freeport, home of L. L. Bean… I had a hankering to buy a 18 foot canoe there at 4:30 in the morning, since it’s opened 24 hours a day, 364 days a year, but it would be a little difficult to lug home! On we went thru Bath, Camden, and Belfast… scenic villages on the water… colorful sailboats filling the harbors and docks… so, so picturesque!
Bangor, Maine was our eventual destination and as far Nor’east as we’d get. We rented a motel room in Bangor for a couple of days…(honest, it was not an 8 by 12 four-bit room… in fact, it was so nice we thought we were Men of means… by no means!). We used the room as home port as we explored the area and made day trips to the Acadia National Park and Bar Harbor. Acadia… chock-full of natural beauty… from the cool, forested countryside to the craggy, rock-strewn beaches… we checked out the best swimming beach… a sign at the entrance noted ocean conditions and water temperatures… 56 degrees… in mid-July!
On our return to Bangor, we stopped at the Trenton Bridge Lobster Pound for cheap, fresh lobster… ah, yes,… pick your own live lobster and listen to ’im scream as he hits the boiling salt water and turns that devilishly red hue… then you know you’re ready to enjoy the fare at a picnic table where you watch the sun set over the water… Hey!… this is Real Life in America!
Yessir, here is my American Gothic Maine-style… a crusty, old geezer, in slicker and rain hat, with butter drippin’ down his chin and a clawcracker in hand… his skinny, grey-haired, leathery old lady by his side… a twinkle in her eye and a faint smirk on her lips… lobster bib in place!
After two glorious days in this part of Maine, we moved west across the state to Skowhegan, Mexico, and Rumford… on across northern NH and Franconia Notch and the White Mountains. Ready to stop not far into Vermont, we noticed a sign for a campground nearby… Now, as I’ve aged, I’ve discovered another mathematical fact (Fact #2 of Perfesser Al’s Ambiguous Axioms!)… that the Softness of my Middle is in direct proportion to the Softness of the Pillow and Bed on which I lay my pudgy, little frame!. In other words, camping has become rather scarce on our recent bike tours. However, the sign for this campground clearly piqued our interest… 2mi. to Tickle-Naked Pond & Campground,…Hot Showers.
Tickle-Naked Pond?…
What a Great Life in A-merica!… two-wheeling in NE… great bikes, great scenery, great companionship. Too bad it has to end! But, at its end comes the time to plan for future trips… methinks this to be a Perpetual Cycle, as long as these frail bones can lift themselves onto that old BMW saddle!
