Loop from Gorham NH
Sat September 8, 2018
(~280 miles)

Silas and I awoke at 06:00 with the alarm and downed some hotel room coffee while checking the weather and getting geared up. We decided to head back to the White Mountain Cafe after I raved about their delicious bagel sandwiches. We got there about five minutes before they opened at 07:00 and the place was locked up tight as a drum. A couple local workmen had beaten us there and got out of their van to stand in line before us. They must already know about the slow ordering line.

Other NER riding groups began to arrive as we ordered our food and we chatted them up. Seems like a lot of folks were headed north to Mont Megantic today, same as us. The groups were already pretty full, and I was looking forward to a smaller group today. Silas and I agreed to stick with our plan as a duo, since we’d most likely be crossing paths with the others during the ride anyway .

We’d been first to the cafe and were first out on the road. The temperature had fallen down around 50 degrees that morning, and I had my heated liner and gloves turned on low, to ward off any chill until the sun could warm things back up to 70F. The ride north on NH-16 along the Androscoggin in the morning light was stunning, and we let the bikes have some throttle (in between slow-downs for a couple photos here and there). What a great day to be on the road!

We hung a left in Errol onto NH-26 for more great riding for several miles, up through Dixville Notch where we stopped roadside for a snap of the Balsams resort hotel on Lake Gloriette.

There was no planned restaurant for lunch on today’s route, rather riders were encouraged to pick up deli sandwiches for a mountaintop picnic. As we came into Colebrook NH, we spotted the Moose Muck Cafe, but it wasn’t open til 10:00. We pulled in at at the gas station/convenience store/Subway on Main Street and boy, was that place hopping! We could barely maneuver around all the cars coming and going and there wasn’t much room for parking in the cramped lot.

After a bathroom break and grabbing food to go, we met two other groups of NERds pulling in to the lot. We’d warned the girl at Subway to expect a bunch more riders coming in after us for sandwiches, and were grateful we beat the crowds! We were glad to leave this hive of activity behind us, connecting back onto US-3 via a couple side roads, and picking up NH-145 north out of town, with me in the lead now.

About halfway to Clarksville, my Garmin got up to its new tricks again, routing us off 145 onto the local Bear Rock Rd and, like a fool, I obeyed. It was a nice road for a couple miles and I could see the GPS planned to take us back up to 145 eventually. I assumed this was part of Ed’s route … up until it tried to get us to turn left on a steep uphill road of loose gravel. Damn it, foiled again!

We went another mile before the road began curving south – which was NOT the way to Canada. A look at the GPS map didn’t show any other way of reconnecting to the main road, so back out we went, about 3-4 miles to route 145 again.

Clarksville NH marked the furthest north I’d ever been in the state, so I was eager to see the terrain and countryside up in the furthest tip of New Hampshire. It’s remote and beautiful, as one might expect. We pulled in for gas at Young’s Store, north of Pittsburg, to avoid a possible extra stop while in Canada. We didn’t go inside to verify their sign’s claim, but perhaps another time. We spotted the NER admins group zipping by as we filled our tanks.

Riding along Lake Frances and the Connecticut Lakes was a treat, and the final miles to the border went quickly. We pulled over with about a mile to go, so we could have our passports ready, pull out earplugs, etc. There was no wait at the small border crossing, which seems to be located up atop a ridgeline dividing the two countries. Two Canadian officers came out to quiz Silas and I separately, and we were done in a couple minutes.

We pulled off into a small wayside area with a nice view just past the border station, to look out over the Quebec countryside and celebrate our drama-less crossing. We could easily see Mont Megantic and it’s smaller surrounding peaks several miles away over the otherwise open terrain.

 

The toughest part about getting over to the National Park now, was keeping our speed in check on the wide open straight roads, through the villages of La Patrie and Notre-Dame-Des-Bois. We pulled in to the Visitor Center at the bottom of the mountain, greeting the NERds who’d scooched ahead of us. It was National Parks day in Canada, with free admission for all, so we went inside to get the keycode for opening the lift gate and proceeded on our way.

It was a fairly short ride to the top, with a couple nice curves and one sharp hairpin that caught me by surprise. There are two peaks to visit on the mountain, and we decided to do them in reverse of the planned route. We went all the way up to the observatory atop Megantic first, walking the last couple hundred yards from the parking area alongside more NER riders who’d caught us at the visitor center.

The observatory wasn’t open for tourists, but the views were nice enough, if a bit hazy. Some informational plaques taught us that the observatory had become one of the best places for star-gazing in the area, due to efforts to coordinate with surrounding towns to curb light pollution. Canadians can be so courteous, even in policy-making – I don’t imagine that working out too well back down in the states.

Si and I were feeling hungry and planned to eat over on the neighboring peak of Mont St. Joseph, where we’d read there were some picnic tables. We completely missed the fact there was a second, smaller observatory just down the hill from the upper parking lot until we were riding by and spotted another group of NER folks dismounting there. Oh well, maybe next time. We continued down one peak and took a turn to go up to the St. Joseph peak, where there is a radio tower installation and a small historic church that apparently is still attended on Sunday mornings.

Another group of NER had already arrived there and we chatted a bit in the parking lot, before they decided to keep moving on up to the peak we’d just come from. Silas and I circled around the antenna facility to the far side of the peak and were treated to a picturesque scene.

Mont St. Joseph – we assumed the small stacks of rocks reflect some type of pilgrimage ritual (or aliens) –
there were no signs in English to inform us otherwise.

We ate our lunch amidst French-speaking hikers, as a yoga class was conducted on the nearby lawn area. Unlike at the Visitor Center, all the signs here were in French only, so we simply looked around and absorbed the scene. A bit surreal, but the view was great and it was a cool place to stop and stretch out.

After we got our fill of food and French, we geared back up for the short stint back into the US, crossing into Maine at Coburn Gore, again with very little fanfare at the border station.
Very soon, we pulled over at the Chain of Ponds overlook for a lovely view. Then came the best riding of the trip, blasting south on ME-27 on miles and miles of newly paved sweepers and fast curves.

We picked up ME-16 near Flagstaff Lake to start our run back west and enjoyed more beautiful riding for several more miles. Before the trip, while reviewing the routes to ensure they would transfer properly to my GPS, I’d noticed a waypoint north of Rangeley called “Turn for Quill Hill”. There was no indication of a turn on the route and no roads visible in Basecamp, but I decided to leave it in and maybe check it out if and when I was passing by.

Silas was agreeable, even when we saw it was a dirt road marked by a sign stating there was a 12 minute ride to the top and would cost $5 per motorcycle. We came upon the toll checkpoint near the top, which consisted of a friendly woman sitting outside a big RV.

Quill Hill turned out to be SO worth it! The dirt road was well maintained, if dry and scrabbly, requiring extra attention. The views were amazing – 360 degrees all around the region with lakes and mountains galore.

After getting our fill of the views, we picked our way back down to route 16 for the run down into Rangeley. We pulled in to the overlook on Route 4 at the eastern end of Rangeley Lake. I hadn’t been up in these parts for a good 18 years or so, and never by bike. The wild vastness and beauty of the region is something else, and deserves more frequent attention.

We topped off our tanks and took a bathroom break at the local Irving before continuing on SR-16. We threaded our way through the many lakes and ponds on more fresh pavement and great curves all the way back into New Hampshire. We re-traced our awesome morning run along the Androscoggin in reverse, finally running into a bit of a traffic slow-down in Berlin NH, where an ATV festival was in full swing. The town allows ATVs to run in the streets with regular traffic, which they do slowly and can be a bit frustrating when you’re sitting on 120+ hp and have been zooming along back roads all day long!

We pulled in to an almost empty hotel lot, around 16:00. Bikes like to socialize too (so we figured) and we squeezed ours in next to a parked Triumph Trophy, so they could all catch up.

Time for a cold one – Pig’s Ear locally brewed brown ale – and to kick back, waiting for the rest of the horde to arrive. Everyone was on their own for dinner tonight, and we eventually headed over with another rider to Mr. Pizza, right next to the hotel, where I’d heard the margaritas were large, cheap, and good. They weren’t bad, actually, but served in a beer pint glass (!). The pizza was serviceable, and we enjoyed the view of the river out back as we ate.

The forecast called for another beauty of a day tomorrow, but temps were dropping and it would be a cold ride out of town in the morning to get home. Silas decided to accompany me down through Maine along half of Ed’s Sebago Lakes ride, so I could pick up a couple more Melting Pot Tour bonus photos. After dinner, more hanging out in the hotel lot with the group entailed, before retiring to our rooms to warm up and hit the sack.