Day 8 - The Frost Heaves of Vermont

 Day 8 marked the final day of the museum tour portion of the cross-country adventure as we were to set arrive at our ultimate destination, Shark Week IV.  With great anticipation we departed from Utica and set out for the location in New Hampshire where the event was to take place. 

Our group’s size had diminished somewhat.  We had lost four members and three bikes due to “irreconcilable differences,” but we had gained one member who resided in the area of Utica.  We had also planned to rendezvous with another Shark Week attendee who had experienced a chance meeting with Kenny the previous day.  However as he awaited on the side of the road for our perpetually late crew to show up, the local law enforcement, evidently suspicious of lone bikers waiting on the side of the road, suggested that he “move along, sir.” 

After many days of rain, cold and gloom, we were happy to experience blue skies and relatively warm weather.  We were happy and Vermont beckoned.  Initially the ride through Vermont was quite beautiful.  Lush green forests, classic New England settings featuring cottages and white spires on churches, and the sight of families enjoying ice cream makes you feel as if you’re in a Norman Rockwell painting……uh, if Norman Rockwell featured large loud motorcycles and grimy bikers clad in leather in his paintings, of course.  As we took in the beauty and savored the experience, the trip seemed to be as fulfilling as a Hells Angels toy run.  Until we hit the frost heaves, that is. 
Frost heaves are as native to Vermont as maple syrup and fat guys making ice cream.  They are formed during the winter as ice in the soil beneath the road’s surface expands and swells upward, causing the surface to become…..let’s say uneven.  And the winter of 2014 had been exceptionally harsh.  Riding the frost heaves is an experience that is indescribable…….but let me try.  Imagine yourself being shot out of a canon…..only to reach a trampoline at the end of the canon, which hurls you back onto the firing mechanism, which fires you into the trampoline again.  Then imagine yourself holding onto a jackhammer and trying to keep it under control…..a 900 pound jackhammer, that is.  Oh, and while all of this is going on, the canon is rolling from side to side.  Imagine that all going on at the same time and you have some idea of what riding a motorcycle on the frost heaves is like.

Frost heaves give the roads of Vermont a certain "texture."

The results of trying to traverse these asphalt monstrosities included broken horns, bolts that backed out, steering that was permanently altered, and one attendee even experienced the loss of a filling – for real!!  Fortunately the frost heaves gave way to the beautiful town of Montpelier where we rendezvoused with what remained of the Gypsy Tour, a similar, but more civil version of the Museum Tour group. 

After a delicious lunch the combined Museum/Gypsy Tour made the final push toward Gorham, New Hampshire, eager to reunite with old acquaintances’ and to make new ones.  Spirits were high, the roads were exceptional, and the frost heaves were in the cracked pieces of what remained of our rear view mirrors (while some of us were steering at very odd angles).  As we neared Gorham we came around a bend in the road and spotted a sight that could not have been more perfect - a rainbow whose end seemingly dropped straight into our destination. 

The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is Shark Week IV

We smiled at the welcoming sign.....until we remembered that rainbows mean…..rain.  As we got closer the rainbow’s end steadily moved away from our intended location, only to be filled by a large dark cloud.  With reluctance we pulled to the side of the road and donned the rain gear…..again.  Sure enough, the rain poured down on us with all of an intensity of biblical proportions, but magically it cleared just two miles from the Shark Week assembly point, the Town and Country motel.  We entered the parking lot to find dozens and dozens of Road Glides and dozens and dozens of people who had apparently partaken liberally of the local freshly tapped brew.  Hugs and kisses from people we didn’t even know were shared, and we realized that all of the trouble and challenges that we had endured had been well worth it.  We had arrived at Shark Week IV.  In the next edition of the blog we will describe some of the weeks more memorable occurrences.