Day Five - Tiger Shoots Over 80

Start - Hazelton, PA
Stop - Madawaska, ME
Today's miles - 889
Total - 4113

 Today started off on the wrong foot. I turned off my alarm. And I went back to sleep. Sleep is a good thing, but I slept too long. I didn't leave the hotel until 9 o'clock. I want to get to Maine today!

At some point I passed from Pennsylvania into New York. Unless I missed it, New York didn't have one of those "Welcome to New York" signs. Maybe think they think they're above that.

Knowing that I had a long way to go, I decided to trust my GPS for the fastest route to Maine. All was well at first. Pennsylvania is beautiful. But then the GPS told me to turn north on I-87 to Albany. That made no sense to me but I remembered that I will pass through Albany on the way back so I decided to listen. Big mistake.

I-87 is a toll road. I wonder what they do with the money – they certainly don't spend it on fixing the road. I started out in the right lane but it was so rough that it about knocked my teeth back into the glass on my bedside. So I decided to do whatever it took to stay in the fast lane.

My GPS has a feature that records the fastest speed that I travel. I seldom pay attention to it. Let's just say Tiger shot over 80.

Now I never would have been on that road had I not second-guessed myself.  I was very careful when I put my route together.  I should have trusted myself. I think that's what happens also when Tiger shoots over 80. He second-guesses himself too much.

So there I was, keeping up with the crazies, when I passed an entrance ramp. I saw a red Corvette driven by a bald guy with a white goatee, sunglasses up on his forehead and a blonde sitting next to him. I immediately decided the guy was a poser, since no real Corvette owner wears his glasses on his forehead. And I decided to bet that he was not going to pass me. Period. 

Now a strange thing happens on roads like that. All of a sudden, for no apparent reason, the traffic gets all mushed up. Sometimes it is some doofus sitting in the fast lane with his cruise control on and sometimes it's a truck that was overconfident in his ability to pass. Either way it is a total pain.  It means I can't use my cruise control for 90+ miles. I hate that. 

So I entertained myself by making sure that the red Corvette could never catch me. Eventually I needed gas. He was right behind me at that point and passed me after I got onto the exit lane but I don't think that counts as a pass.  I win.

After getting gas I pulled back onto the freeway only to see a Harley flying by. The chase was on. Maybe I could learn some local tactics to make the best of this toll road.

This time I seriously doubted that I would catch the guy, but I gave it my best shot. At one point I was just three car lengths behind, but then we ran into another traffic mush. The next time I saw him he was 15 car lengths past me and I never saw him again.

Until I got to Albany. There he was. Sitting on the side of the road, talking on his cell phone. I don't get credit for that pass either.

Suddenly the toll road ended and I got utterly flummoxed in Albany. I took the exit to get on I-90 E., but my GPS was telling me I needed to stay on I-87 north. That made no sense but since I had decided to trust my GPS, I took the first exit, made a U-turn, and headed up the road.

Then I realized that I could look on the GPS to see the next turns that it planned for me. So I checked. And I realized the stupid GPS was routing me through Canada! If I wanted to go to Canada I would have brought my passport. Note to self: always bring your passport. So I took an exit and turned into the only strip mall in the United States without a Starbucks. I checked my paper atlas to see how far out of the way that I had gone. It wasn't pretty. So I went back to I-90 east.

Eventually I came to discover that I-90 is also a toll road. I had to pay a toll as I left New York. $6.30. How weird a number is that. And then, just a few miles later, I had to pay another toll in Massachusetts. Once again, I wonder what they do with the money.

Not long after that I saw the dreaded sign "Expect Delays. Blasting Area Ahead. " Here is what a  sign like that is eventually referring to:

I took that picture at the very beginning. What I did not realize is that I would spend the next 46 minutes, my left hand on the clutch, never leaving first gear, just sitting or creeping along. I could smell my oil burn. Lazelle St. in Sturgis was a walk in the park compared to this. 46 minutes is an eternity with a melting motorcycle between your knees. 

So there I am. At the next rest stop. Wasting an hour to let my bike cool down. I am still determined to get to Madawaska tonight but it will be late.

Some days are just like that.