Southeast MA – Liberty NY
Mon Sep 5, 2022
(~273 miles)

At last… time for another trip with the New England Riders. Ahead of us lay a week-long trip to meet, eat and ride with other motorcyclists from the northeast region’s riding community. The destination hub for this journey is the small city of Williamsport, in the north central wilds of Pennsylvania. Group organizer, Ed Conde, had led at least one previous trip to this particular area and by all first-hand accounts I’d heard, it had been a tremendously fun week for all who attended.

Like most NER trips, there are several ride routes provided in the form of GPX files for people to pick and choose from to enjoy the best roads, views, and attractions in the local area. With a group hotel booked close to the city center, there would be plenty of taverns, restaurants, and other attractions to experience while relaxing and socializing with our fellow riders in the evenings.

It’s been a few years since our scheduling and commitments all worked into alignment such that Char and I could attend another NER trip. We were quite looking forward to it, coming close on the heels of our adventures up in Ontario. Technically, these trips are scheduled for Wed -Sun, but many people tend to show up early and make a full week out of it, since Ed creates so many great routes to ride! We’d tossed around the idea of heading to the Finger Lakes region the weekend before, but I couldn’t find a good deal on AirBnB. We didn’t like any of the available hotel options, so we decided to just catch up on things at home that weekend and head out Monday, taking two leisurely days of back roads, following the suggested travel route that Ed provided.

There was a lot of wet weather in the forecast for the next couple of days, so we resigned ourselves to a rainy journey west. We were kick-stands-up at 07:12 under cloudy skies, but no precipitation as we turned out of the driveway. We took I-295 into Rhode Island and exited on RI 7 to pick up a familiar series of back roads and state routes across the Ocean State and NE corner of Connecticut. We enjoyed the ride on CT 197 and CT 190 into Stafford Springs, only to discover that the nice little coffee shop there was closed. Oh well, onward!

We looped on local roads south of 190 to avoid the congested strip-mall hell of Hazardville, rejoining 190 just by the interstate to cross the Connecticut River. Then it was more nice back roads west and north, crossing over the Massachusetts state line. We’d begun to get some sprinkles off and on – nothing major yet, but we knew it was coming. Time for that coffee break! The general store in Granville, which I’d wanted to check out, was supposed to be closed today, so we found a quiet Dunkin Donuts there in Southwick where we could enjoy a cup sitting down before hooking up with the NER route, which actually begins just north, in Westfield.

Rain had began spattering down a bit more heavily as we parked, so our little break was well timed. It’s always a mental hurdle, hopping back on the bike while it’s raining, but we had miles to cover. It sprinkled off and on the rest of the way across the state. I was happy to see that MA state route 57, with nice new pavement for the full length, can now properly take it’s place in the Best of the NorthEast road listings. What a joy to ride, even in the rain, especially compared with the horror show from before, when grass and weeds had been growing up between what was left of the yellow lines, with potholes galore. Connecting to MA 23 via 183, we proceeded straight on through Great Barrington, up into the diminutive Taconic range, and into New York state.

In a few miles, around 11:30, we arrived at the recommended lunch spot, Martindale Chief Diner, just off the Taconic Parkway. While I’d passed by the iconic sign with the waving native chief in feathered headdress once or twice, this was my first time dining in the establishment, though it is a popular wayside. There seemed to be plenty of seating, despite the number of cars in the lot, and we were shown to a nice private booth down at one end of the dining room.

The service was friendly enough, and I opted for a chicken caesar wrap to keep things light, while Char had a grilled cheese sandwich. We both drank hot tea to ward off the chill of the rainy ride and enjoyed the break. They have a case full of tasty looking pies up front, but we were too full to consider it – maybe next time through the area.

It was lightly misting as we zipped ourselves back up and packed ourselves back onto the bike. Continuing west on route 23, we made the crossing of the Hudson River under heavy clouds, into the bustling town of Catskill.

We took BONE road Cauterskill Road (route 23A), under I-87 and into the Catskill Mountains, where the rain finally began to fall steadily. The faucets would remain on until tomorrow, as it turns out. We had to keep the speed down a bit, but were treated to some lovely riding over hills and through dales, alongside rushing streams and through the mist.

 

We haven’t explored much of the Catskills yet, so we were interested in seeing some of the small villages that form tiny pockets of civilization in the forested landscape of this region. Tannersville’s main drag looked interesting enough for a future lunch stop, and we cruised up and down the main street in Phoenicia as well, just to get a feel for the town before continuing on NY 28 in a big half circle westwards, though Big Indian.

I was looking for a convenient spot to pull over for a nature break and spotted an outhouse flanking the gravel lot for a hiking trailhead. This was on the inside corner of a sharp uphill turn where Oliverea Road meets Frost Valley Road. I came into the lot a bit hot at the last minute, and we were jounced around quite a bit by the huge ruts  carved into the gravel by the weather. Somehow I kept us upright and we dismounted for a short breather.

It was a bit tricky to get started off again – with a large rock behind the front wheel and the rear in a trench! We decided it would be better for Char to mount up after reaching pavement. There’s no shoulder and the road is quite steep here, but with very few cars. Once she was on, I let out the clutch as I released the rear brake to move forward. The bike made a nasty noise and then the engine started revving alarmingly high without engaging a gear! Uh oh. Though this was the first time this had really happened to me, I believed I recognized the symptoms from friends’ descriptions of a slipping clutch. In fact, I was worried that I may have just burned it out.

I had Char dismount once more, as a couple cars passed by us and then got the bike turned around heading downhill. I started it back up and this time, the clutch engaged, though it didn’t feel quite right. I had Char get on and we rode a quarter mile or so before turning back around and approaching the hill again, with some momentum this time.

We made it up and continued on our way, though every now and then when gunning it out of corners, I would feel the engine rev slightly higher without moving the bike. If you’ve never had a clutch go, it’s an absolutely horrible feeling, and little did I know that we ain’t seen nothin yet. 🙁 We continued along the swoopy Frost Valley Road (a BONE road I’d been looking forward to riding) for several miles down to Claryville on the Neversink River.

 

After passing through the tiny village, not much more than a church and cemetery, we crossed the river and I spotted a small sign for a covered bridge. Despite the heavy rain coming down, I pulled a uey and we parked in the small gravel lot next to a lone car. I couldn’t imagine why there would be anyone else here in this weather, but we were, so…

The Halls Mills Bridge is now only open to foot traffic as a historic landmark, so we had to hoof it about 150 yards or so along a narrow grassy path to reach the old but sturdy looking structure. We had a good look around, took a couple photos and trudged back to the bike in the sloppy rain.

 

By the time we reached our night’s destination in the town of Liberty NY, we were pretty tired and wet from getting battered with rain for the past couple hours. It was absolutely pouring as we entered town from the west on back roads. Still, we were going to need to eat, so we did a quick reconnaissance through the main drag and across town to take a gander at the recommended NER hotel (bad reviews) and Liberty Diner close to highway 17. Then we headed back west through town to find our AirBnB, which was a small hotel-like room adjoining two others in an outbuilding behind a large private residence.

Luckily, our accommodation had a shared porch with a roof and we were able to park right in front of it. We were able to get ourselves and our bags up and out of the rain in fairly short order. Our host must have seen us pull in, as she dodged raindrops to come over from the main house and chatted briefly with Char while I was unpacking. We were soaked to the bone, despite our normally sufficient Gore-tex riding gear. And the rain came down harder still!

We’d arrived pretty early (for us) at around 15:30, so we decided to just chill out quietly in the room for a couple hours to recover from the pounding of the raindrops and stress of a possibly serious bike problem, and just try to warm up a bit. My brain refused to focus on the clutch issue at the moment, and there wasn’t much to be done about it in this weather – so it was just going to have to wait for the time being.

Soon our thoughts turned to dinner. We’d passed by another diner on the way through town. The online reviews were great and the host had  recommended it. We reluctantly pulled our wet gear back on and headed back out, around 18:00, in the sloppy rain to splash our way along the two mile jaunt back into town, where we pulled into the lot for the New Munson Diner.

Now this turned out to be a great little diner! It seemed very clean & quiet with a local family restaurant vibe, being on the opposite side of town from the main highway and all. There were quite a few folks in here for a Labor Day dinner, but plenty of space and we were seated right away.

The service was friendly and attentive throughout our meal, which consisted mainly of hearty Greek comfort food. Char started out with soup and ordered a large wedge of spanakopita, while I decided to try out mousakka, a traditional eggplant casserole dish. Both were excellent and came with the best-tasting Greek salad I’ve eaten, plus a side of stuffed grape leaves. Washed down with a hot cup of tea, everything tasted fresh and wonderful, almost making us forget how cold, tired and wet we were in our soaked gear and boots.

 

Though I barely had room, after a long wet day in the saddle and a bit of worry in the back of my mind about the motorcycle, I couldn’t pass up a slice of their wonderful blueberry pie, which had a heavy wet buttery crust. It was delicious and decadent, though they served it cold for some reason.

Zipping back into our wet jackets and helmets, we headed back out into the rain for one last time today, navigating the semi-flooded road back to our waiting bed. I knew I should be more worried about the bike, but I was simply too damn tired and it was too damn wet to do anything about it. I needed rest now, and sleep wasn’t long in coming.