Day 11
September 14th, 2005
VVV Rally
Inn of Six Mountains
Killington, Vermont

The air was humid (for Vermont) for the second day of the rally.  A fine mist was mixed in with a moisture rich ground fog.  Felt like Alabama.

We went north on SR 100 to Stockbridge and stopped for breakfast at the Swiss Farm Inn.  A sign out front read, "World's best breakfast inside."  Good enough reason to get our business.

The Swiss Inn is a great place.  Down home and friendly, with a feeling you are eating at someone's dining room table.  If you want to sample the true essence of a New England bed and breakfast I strongly suggest it.  The owners mingled with us and told us how they came to the valley.
​Breakfast time in Vermont.  Swiss Inn
"In the wake of 9-11, we loaded up everything and left the city.  Found this place and here we are."  Simple as that.  Only in America, can a man lose everything, and make it back again in a few years.  
​Outside the Swiss Inn
Don and Joyce, anxious to get on the road west, were leaving for California.  I know how they felt.  The anticipation of a cross country ride is hard to hold back.  They cut the rally short to head south toward West Virginia.  It was a sad good bye.  Our group would be a little short today, John Cooper was riding to his sister's, who lives nearby, to spend time with her.

"I'll see y'all next summer, ride safe and keep in touch."

We took a few pictures and the Cortez's were off on a 3,000 mile ride.  Some jokers get all the riding in.
Our direction after breakfast mixed from east to south as we rode SR 30 to Rawsonville and came down out of the hills to the Connecticut River and into Brattleboro.  We took a shortcut across the top of town and headed west on SR 9.  The leaning was good for 20 miles, then we headed south on 100 to Jacksonville, Vermont.  Where we took a break at a old fashioned store with lots of character.  I bought a muffin and a diet Dr Pepper and went outside.

A 30ish, spectacled young lady, wearing a sun hat and socks with flower prints, was sitting on the porch bench reading Time Magazine.  We were our usual unruly selves when I commented to her-
"M'am I'm sorry, I see you are tryin to read."

She peered over her glasses, "quite ok, I'm waitin for the UPS man, this is his first stop when he comes to to town."

"Must be an important package."

"It is, we need it for work."

"self employed?"  "Yes, photography."

"Where are you from, may I ask?"  In a proper, all syllable, every dot and t crossed  Northeast accent.  I replied in my best Tim Granville voice (a friend of mine from the UK tour) tone.  "Yes, you may.  I'm located in the south, a wee bit off the coast.  Shall we say Alabama?"

Andy Purmals asked me, "How is it you just walk up to a complete stranger and start a conversation?"  "I dunno, but if they don't wanna talk, no big deal, ain't like I'm ever gonna see them again.  Besides EVERYONE likes to be flirted with, people are people everywhere ya go."

About that time Dan Baynes walked up the steps and joined in.  He had peeled his 1 piece Roadcrafter and was strolling around in shorts and boots.  

"DAYUM! brother I've seen better legs on a table."

"They get me where I'm going."

After the break we went south SR 112 into Massachusetts, and into the Berkshires.  I was here last fall but missed these good roads.  We picked up U.S. 2, also known as the "Mohawk Trail."

In Shelburne Falls we went west and traced the Deerfield River to Charlemont and the Mohawk Park, where we had lunch at a biker bar across the street from the Indian Sunrise statue called "Hail to the Sunrise."  

A tough talking south shore waitress waited on us.  Her accent was strictly big city Boston, and I had all kinds of trouble understanding her.  Someone asked about separate checks.  "Ain't gettin' em."  I said, "dang baby you're awesome, you give the orders around here huh?"  "Yeah, and I ain't dealin with separate checks."  "OK, OK."  I was afraid to ask for a refill when my diet coke went dry.  I feared she might pull a pistol and cap me.

Two more riders came in and sat nearby.  "Look here, don't ask for separate checks."  "Why not?"  "Just don't."

The food was pretty good, and it settled us for the return ride.  I liked the fact I had no pressure on me to locate routes etc.  I just trusted the marker the leader left everywhere a decision had to be made.  It was nice.
Hail to the Sunrise.  This statue can be found
at Mohawk Park.  Photo: Dan Baynes

We rode south and east on SR 100 and 8 past the huge windmill farms, to Searsburg, where we hooked up to 9 west, and meandered 15 miles down the hills into Bennington.  

We took a rest in the downtown area and took pictures of the Moose statues and browsed around.  I went to a store for something to drink.  We were walking around when John Cooper came in with his sister on pillion.  It was a pleasant surprise.  We accused John of taping into the NSA satellites to find us.  Everyone thinks John is a CIA spook.  

​Jay Richardson and a moose from Bennington
"How ya reckon he found us?  In the whole state of Vermont he just happens to find us in Bennington?"

"That ain't nuttin, he once found me in the Rocky Mountains near Steamboat in 2003, when I was riding cross country.  Talk about small worlds.  That joker is downright scary."
The bones of this subject were found in a
Bennington law office.  Photo: By Dan Baynes

With Bennington behind us, we went to SR 7, about as fast a highway you will find in Vermont.  The day was drawing to a close and we needed to get back.  We veered onto SR 11 and took a short break at a corner store. 

From the store we connected routes 103, 10, and 106 to Woodstock and beyond.  From there it was back on U.S. 4 and into Killington with the sun setting on the mountains.  A great riding day, over 300 miles.

I cleaned up the RT and got on the Hotel's treadmill for a nice 4 mile run.  I like treadmills and spend so much time on them (have one at home next to my motorcycles) feel like I'm part hamster.

It was almost dark when we strolled over for some great wood fire pizza.  I'm killing my diet, but it was good.  Chris Knight made it from New Hampshire for supper.  Great to see him again.  

Back at the room I calle Debbie.  "I'll see ya Friday, got everything ready?"  "All ready."  Which means she's going to have 3 bags in tow.
It had been a few days so I called Chris. 

Another great day went in the books. 


Many thanks to Dan Baynes for helping to recall the events of the day