Three perfect excuses for a quick evening ride

Motorcycle enthusiasts can come up with any type of excuse to go for a ride. We had three perfect excuses tonight:

• It's a beautiful early Fall day in Vermont, with warm temperatures, sunshine, and the beginnings of the leaves changing color.
• We plan to ride tomorrow afternoon, but the weather report isn't looking good:  high winds and torrential downpours.
• I haven't gone to the grocery store, so dinner is either canned soup or we can eat out.

Even though it was 70 degrees and sunny at 4:45pm when we got on the BMW, we knew it would be dusk before we finished tonight's trip. That means packing the cold weather gear and wearing my Celtic Rider neckwarmer. Of course whenever I put on the neckwarmer, I remember the fun we had this summer in Ireland.

Riding to dinner at Jake's in Londonderry is a familiar trip, which gives me time to pay attention to the small details that I seem to miss when we're in a car. The crisp edge to the air that feels so different from hot and humid weather just two weeks ago. The brown curl to the ferns that line our dirt road. We haven't had our first frost yet, but it's coming, and the plants are already curling up for the winter. The colorful purple, yellow and red mums that our more energetic neighbors already planted. Halloween decorations at Dutton's. Dusty brownish-orange maple leaves that in another week will pop in bright colors and draw hordes of tourists to our mountains.

We sit down for dinner before 5:30, the first ones in the dining room. We don't usually eat dinner this early, but we prefer to get home before it's completely dark to miss the coyotes, deer, bear and moose that prowl the area. After dinner I pull on the cold weather layer I thankfully packed and stay warm behind Mike as we head west over the mountain toward home. The setting sun hung just above the mountains and blinded us for a few seconds each time we crested a hill. I read in today's paper how a woman earlier this week ran into the car in front of her. She didn't see the car until she slammed into it, blaming the sun for momentarily blinding her. We rode in and out of the shadows until finally the sun was completely below the mountains.

We were on the bike for 16 hours our first day on the trip to Missouri this summer, and we've spent 11 days in a row riding in the Alps. Our short ride this evening took less than two hours, including dinner, yet we accumulated memories, enjoyed the cool breeze, and pointed out the signs lining the road for the Peru Fair this weekend. Plus we pulled into the driveway just as our neighbors were turning on their lights. Home before dark.

Travels through Rupert and Shaftsbury, Vermont

November in Vermont is a study in shades of grey. The maple, birch, beech, elm and ash trees stand bare without their leaves, which now carpet the forest in a deep, dense mat. As we ride along, the mountains loom through the branches of the trees. The mountains themselves are only green in the patches of pine trees that remain green even when dusted with snow.

Today is rare for November in Vermont - the temperature is in the mid-50's and the skies are clear. Even the sky this time of year loses some of its brilliant color, and instead shows patterns of grey and light blue.

We started our trip today on familiar roads:  Dorset West Road to Route 315 into Rupert and Salem, then NY Route 22 into Hoosick. We turned back into Vermont and onto Airport Road in Shaftsbury. Shaftsbury is a warren of dirt roads, some 2 lanes wide and populated by houses at regular intervals. Other roads are more suitable to 4-wheel drive vehicles - or adventure motorcyles like ours. Mike thought Trumbull Mountain Road went straight through to East Road; I thought it probably did in the early 1800's, but now was unused except for hiking. The dirt road gradually narrowed and became filled with ruts, we passed a horse farm and then rode past meadows and forest without houses, until we finally turned around in a gravel driveway at what looked like the top of the mountain, afraid the road would disappear altogether. Later that night we looked at the map, and I was right - Trumbull Mountain Road is no longer a road suitable even for an adventure bikes.

We turned right onto Peter Montgomery Road, and stepped back in time. There were no houses, no cars, no signs of people. The dirt road was perfect for the motorcycle, but narrow even for a small car.

This is one of my favorite types of motorcycle riding, because Mike slows down to navigate the twisty dirt road, I can glimpse old stone walls, the remnants of stone basements, and unused logging trails through the bare branches of the trees, and the only sound is the wind. Some people might become frightened - am I lost? How do I get back onto a 2-lane, paved road? What happens if we break down? Mike grew up in Vermont, and likes to remind me that all of the roads end up someplace. His philosophy is that you keep going, and eventually you'll come to a familiar road, or at least a road with a sign. We're only 20 miles or so from home, but it's easy to imagine we're the only people for miles and miles.

Eventually we come to an intersection, and once again Mike turns right, remaining convinced that we'll end up on East Road. East Road is one of the original roads in Bennington County, connecting Bennington to Shaftsbury and Arlington in the days when people traveled by foot or horse. This time Mike was right:  5 minutes later we came to East Road, turned left, and headed toward Arlington and home.

Tourists may prefer traveling in Vermont in the height of fall foliage season, when the sugar maple trees show off bright orange, deep red, and sunny yellow leaves. A sunny fall day blasts the senses with color while late fall/early winter days like today are muted, quiet, and almost brooding knowing that the deep cold of winter is waiting to make its entrance. Just the kind of day to explore little known roads on the bike.

Sunshine!

Last weekend Mike and I attempted a bike ride, but due to heavy fog, heavy rain, and zero visibility we gave up after about 15 minutes. It was cold, wet and we couldn't see anything, so why ride?

The forecast today was for sun and warm temperatures, a perfect day for a ride on the BMW. Our destination was the Harpoon Brewery Oktoberfest celebration in Windsor, VT but of course we took the long, scenic route.

View heading up 11/30 toward Bromley Ski Area

Usually this time of year the sugar maple trees are brilliant with their Fall colors of red, orange and yellow but this year the colors are soft and muted. Everyone has their opinion about the lack of color - too much rain, too hot this summer, global warming - the list goes on and on. We were expecting vibrant color and had to settle for bright blue skies and sunshine - not a bad trade-off! Watch video of today's ride.

We followed winding roads through Londonderry, Chester, and Rockingham before we stopped for gas and a snack in Springfield. Each town has its own character, and we found a surprise in Chester:

Almost one month ago we were sitting in the Hofbrauhaus in Munich, enjoying the crowds, festive atmosphere, food, band, and of course the beer. Today we found ourselves in a time-warp as we wandered around the Harpoon Oktoberfest complete with crowds, tents, band, food (even Mike's favorite potato pancakes with applesauce), and beer.

I even heard people speaking German! We sat on the sunny hillside listening to the band, and sang along with the familiar "ein Prosit, ein Prosit" toast. One unfamiliar spectacle was the feats of strength performed by guys in kilts. I'm not sure what this has to do with Oktoberfest, but it was fun to watch them carry 250 pound beer kegs.

Never ones to hurry home, or to waste a warm and sunny day, we took our time riding home, passing through Ascutney and Weathersfield. This area was hit hard by Tropical Storm Irene the end of August, and many bridges are still under repair. When we came to the 'road closed' sign on Route 103, Mike decided to see just how 'closed' it was.

The side of the road closest to the Black River obviously had been at least partially washed away in many spots. We finally had to turn around when faced with a barrier blocking the entire road at a major bridge, but found a side road that led directly into Cavendish only 1/2 mile back. We were in Europe when the storm hit, and can only imagine the amount of water that caused all of this destruction.

Our way home led through the beautiful village of Weston, home of the famous Vermont Country Store and numerous beautiful old homes, plus throngs of people this Columbus Day weekend out to enjoy the sights.

Even though Fall tends to be a busy time for tourists in Vermont, the only real traffic we encountered was heading into the Harpoon Oktoberfest and riding through Weston. We primarily had the winding roads to ourselves, which along with the sun, blue skies, mountains and forests added up into a perfect day.