Sat May 25, 2024
(~1119 miles)

With a major long-distance rally event fast approaching in June, I had relatively few miles in the saddle so far this year – mostly just a few local full-day rides. I just returned last weekend from a ride down to Middleburg VA for work, so at least I’d ventured beyond the Hudson and gotten some highway miles in. After banging out a 500-miler to get home from there, I needed to squeeze in at least one real long distance day to exercise some LD ride-craft under time/sleep pressure, verify the bike was running soundly, and get my head and body back in the game.

Luckily, I had a few ideas brewing that wouldn’t require any significant travel from home. My plan for a brand new in-state New Hampshire certification ride tracing the borders of that state had been sitting in my Basecamp mapping software for a couple years now. It would require two circuits of the state to log the required 1000 miles for an Iron Butt Association certification, while hitting certain cities and towns along the state borders that I had chosen as proof points.

The timing for this ride would be pretty tight, with just about all of it running on state or US highways, plus a few local roads, rather than fast interstates. In fact, because I wanted to outline the state borders as closely as possible and to ensure a ride along the short but scenic coastline of the state, my intended path would include just 2-3 miles of I-93 near my start/end point. I’d already received pre-approval for the proposed route from the IBA, so the only thing left now was to ride the damn thing.

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History Snippet

Despite its short coastline, New Hampshire’s first settlements (under the British crown) were established at the present towns of Rye, where the Piscataqua River flows into the Atlantic, and Dover, some 15 miles upstream. First considered part of “North Virginia”, later changed to “New England”, the royal province of New Hampshire was named for the home county in England of one Capt. John Mason, who had secured the land grant for colonizing the area. Not that any self-respecting NH folk would willingly admit it now, the province was absorbed by the Massachusetts colony for a good 40 years in the early 18th century before being returned to its own provincial jurisdiction. The Granite State was first to declare independence from England and ninth to sign the US constitution following the Revolution.

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The weather forecast had shaped up nicely for getting in a long ride on Saturday, with clear skies and temperatures cool enough to remain alert and comfortable all day throughout the state.

The city of Nashua straddles US 3 in roughly the center point of the southern border of New Hampshire. About an hour away from my house, it would make a convenient starting point for this venture, minimizing travel time before and after the certified ride. The plan was to secure my first receipt around 03:00, but I rolled out of my driveway twenty minutes behind schedule,  around 02:20. I made good time on empty interstate, pulling off US 3 into the Gulf station in just less than an hour.

After a brief stretch and visit to the restroom, I secured my starting receipt at 03:18, mounted up and was off. In designing this ride and choosing the required towns, I tried leaving some wiggle room so that future riders can choose to make better time on faster roads in a few spots, or to try sticking a bit closer to the borders for a more accurate GPS outline of the state which is what I was going for.

Rather than heading north on I-93 through Manchester and taking the fast divided four-lane of NH 101 out to the coast. I jogged very south a couple exits on the interstate and then headed east to cross the Merrimac River through Hudson. I followed a series of familiar back roads in the dark to circumvent the urban landscape and intersections.

I picked up NH 111 in Windham, running ENE along the southeast corner of New Hampshire, which looks a bit like a torn-off dog-ear on the map. The MA/NH border here was established as running roughly three miles north of the Merrimack River as it meanders northeasterly towards the ocean from what is now the town of Dracut MA. The rest of the southern border, which I would parallel at the end of my laps, was just a straight line running almost due west to the western border of Massachusetts (before Vermont existed).

There are some nice hidden motorcycle roads in this corner of the state, but 111 isn’t one of them. It’s a busy main route through the area, connecting many small towns and villages. No trouble at this time of the morning, besides watching for the low speed limits and any John Q Laws who happened to be out and ready to enforce them.

In Kingston, I turned slightly ESE on NH 107 to take me the remainder of the way into Seabrook on the coast, my first required corner town. Crossing under I-95, I turned north onto US 1, laden with strip-malls, restaurants, and all your typical commercial hoopla, to reach the 24-hour Shell station I’d chosen for my corner receipt. It was 04:20, precisely one hour after starting the ride.

While most of the IBA “Ride Around” in-state certifications are now dependent on satellite tracking to verify routing, timing and mileage, I had originally planned this ride to also obtain DBRs (dated business receipts) at certain towns at the corners of the route. Since I was scouting this ride for the first time, I felt it would be beneficial to stick to that plan and document things as thoroughly as possible. Pulling out of the lot, I admired the warm glow of dawn coming in the east, through the matrix of high-tension towers.

Riding a couple miles north on US 1, I exited on NH 101 for the short final stretch out across the salt marshes to Hampton Beach. Typically a busy feeder road with beach and tourist traffic, all was quiet and still under the bright moon, which was just past full.

Emerging onto NH 1A, the main beachside thoroughfare, through the cottages, clam shacks, and old motels, I turned north to trace the coastline for the next several miles. Once you get out of the built-up Hampton Beach boardwalk strip, this is actually quite a nice seashore ride in the off-season when there’s no traffic. There are even a few fun curves to enjoy. The eastern horizon was really glowing, shades of orange and pink hemmed tightly between the cerulean blues of ocean and sky. I had to pull over a couple times to admire this gorgeousness.

Nearing the Piscataqua River in Rye and the border with Maine, I turned west with 1A and then headed out to the US 1 bypass, avoiding the city streets of Portsmouth. Crossing back over I-95, this stretch of slab becomes NH 16, remaining a divided four-laner leading NNW up to Rochester. There it veers more northerly and becomes two lanes. I was able to make good time here, knowing I’d need to bank those quick miles for the latter half of the ride. Route 16 runs most of the way up the eastern side of the state and is a primary route for vacationer traffic into the White Mountains from the coast. For now, of course I still had it mostly to myself and enjoyed streaking north by dawn’s early light.

New Hampshire’s shared state line with Maine was established around 1740 by drawing a line that divided the offshore Isles of Shoals and ran west to bisect  the Piscataqua and Salmon Falls Rivers for some 30 miles inland to the source in Great East Lake in Wakefield. From here, the border line shoots due north, through the mountains to Canada. Soon after passing through that area, I was able to catch my first glimpses of the White Mountains up ahead, with bright snow still splotched across the high ridges.

NH 153 is a smaller road that runs closer than 16 to the state’s eastern border. It’s a nice motorcycling road, but it swerves unavoidably into Maine to get around Province Lake in Effingham and wouldn’t serve for this ride, which must remain completely within the state of New Hampshire. However, I did include a shorter portion of 153 on this first lap at least, turning east on NH 25 at Ossipee (the rising sun directly in my eyes!) and then north again on 153 up through Eaton some 15 miles to reach Conway. I stopped for a brief stretch and nature break by pretty Crystal Lake.

I usually try to avoid the busy commercial stretch of route 16 through North Conway, which seem to be jammed with tourist traffic at most times of the year. However, at 06:30 it was easy rolling through, with just a few early risers sharing the road. In fact, the sight up the empty boulevard with the Presidential Range of mountains as a backdrop was too good to pass up, and I probably could have stopped right in the middle of the lane to get the photo if I’d wanted.

Leaving North Conway behind, I followed 16 through the smaller town of Jackson and entered the White Mountain National Forest, ascending gradually up into Pinkham Notch.

The sun was streaming over the Carter and Wildcat ranges to my right and lighting up Tuckerman Ravine on Mount Washington beautifully to my left. Passing by the Auto Road entrance gate, the mountain looked just stunning. I knew I should turn around and capture that beautiful scene with a photo, since the mountain is so often shrouded in weather. But with the clock ticking and feeling conscious of all the photo stops I’d already made, I did not stop and still regret not stopping to enjoy that moment a bit longer.

Coming down out of the forest, I passed through the outdoorsy town of Gorham, the hotel parking lots full of ATVs and side-by-side’s. Gorham makes a great base for riding the White Mountains region, as I’d experienced on the 2018 New England Riders group trip I’d attended here.

This time, I kept right on pushing, following the Androscoggin River up to the state’s northernmost city, Berlin (pron. BURR-lin). This historic logging community of 10,000 has a lot of nice old architecture lining the downtown streets. This morning the views were dominated by the sky-high plumes of smoke from the paper mill that likely still drives the economy in this area.

On the way out of town, I kept noticing these little islets dotting the river that seemed too regularly spaced to be a natural occurrence. I didn’t stop for a photo, but did pass a historical marker entitled Boom Piers and took a note to check them out later on. My post-ride curiosity revealed these structures to be a remnant of logging industry’s glory days in these northern woods, used to separate logs in the river owned by two different timber companies.

The ride north out of Berlin continues to trace the Androscoggin for 27 more miles and is an absolute blast to ride on two wheels. Tons of curves with natural river, forest, and wetlands scenery all around, and mountains framing the view on all sides.

On my approach into Errol, I suddenly spotted a moose standing at the tree line on the left. I grabbed a bunch of brakes and flipped on my flashers, while noticing that there were actually TWO moose along the verge. Cool! They looked like fairly young specimens, but still big enough to be impressive. I took a few shots, zooming as best as possible with my phone camera and then, as I was pulling away, spotted yet another moose immediately to my left visible through the trees (no pic). Wow, wow!

It’s always a rush to see a moose. Feeling excited about this brush with the local fauna, I finished out the final few curves along the river into the small town of Errol. This was pretty much the end of paved public road along the eastern border, with nothing but forests, rivers, and gravel roads comprising a large wilderness for some 40 miles north to Canada.

So now I turned west on NH 26 to cut across the tip of the state, stopping for a quick photo op at the international airport. All flights appeared to be cancelled today. 🙂

The bike hummed along flat valley terrain for a few miles before climbing up to the ridge cut sharply by Dixville Notch. Tall cliffs of granite tower majestically over the roadway in the col between the mountain peaks.

Just over the pass, I also had to stop for the obligatory photo of The Balsams resort hotel on Lake Gloriette. The unincorporated community of Dixville Notch was down to claiming just 4 permanent residents as of the 2020 census, but still maintains their historical status of being the first precinct in the entire United States to turn in voting results in major political primaries and elections, opening their polls at midnight each Election Day and collecting all votes in the space of a few minutes to be tallied.

Descending from the pass, route 26 follows the Mohawk River valley downstream for several wonderful curved miles to where it empties into the Connecticut River in Colebrook. The highway passes widely spaced residential properties, houses with tin roofs, and the occasional local business of one sort or another. The sun felt great and I was feeling good, being this far north with mountains with the beauty of the northern woods all around! And I was already almost to the western border of the state! The state’s not very wide at all this far up.

I soon reached the busy crossroads town of Colebrook, across the river from Vermont. Before I could start south along the west border, however, I must first bang a right and ride to New Hampshire’s northernmost town of Pittsburg to capture the top “corner” of New Hampshire’s triangular shape. NH 145 is a fun scenic riding road through rural farmlands and forest, though the pavement gets pretty bumpy from the annual freeze/thaw cycles typical of most of New England. There is a series of 2 or 3 “whoop-dee-doo” hills on this road that make your stomach compress if you hit the bottom at the right speed and then it lifts up and feels like a roller coaster coming up over the tops. Wheeee!

While remote and sparse in population, Pittsburg is huge in land area (largest in the state at 282 square miles), covering the entire upper tip of the state. Due to hazy descriptions of the international boundary in the Treaty of Paris and lackadaisical government concern/oversight from both Canada and the US in the early 1800s, citizens of the area declared independence from both countries, proclaiming themselves, the independent Republic of Indian Stream, which lasted a whole three years until the border lines could finally be accurately determined and the disputes settled more or less amicably.

New Hampshire’s northwestern border line with Canada was finally properly surveyed along the path of Halls Stream, which flows into the Connecticut River at Stewartstown. From that creek’s swampy source to the north, the remainder of the short international boundary traces a ridgeline stretching over to Maine that roughly signifies where the northern foothills of New Hampshire’s rocky mountains peter out onto the flatter landscape of the Canadian Shield, .

Route 145 dumped me out in Pittsburg’s small village center at US 3, which is the only paved thru-road between here and the Canadian border (New Hampshire’s only border crossing). There are a few places to secure receipts in town, and I’d chosen historic Young’s Store, which has extended hours and (somewhat) modern gas pumps. In fact, I’d originally timed this whole ride around being able to get to Young’s twice during a single day’s business hour window, to ensure availability of a receipt on each lap.

Young’s is a few miles north of the village, past scenic Lake Francis. Being pretty much the only choice to purchase provisions for miles around, it was hopping with customers stocking up for a day or week of outdoors activity: groceries, camping gear, baked good, bait and tackle – you name it. Many of the vehicles in the lot were towing trailers loaded with ATVs or side-by-sides. This is definitely the land of fishing, hunting, trail-riding, and snowmobiling.

My receipt didn’t have all the required data for valid IBA documentation, so after filling the tank I moved the bike to make room for others and headed inside to get a duplicate copy. On the way back down to Pittsburg center, I pulled in at the Lake Francis boat ramp lot for a couple snaps, as it had turned into a simply gorgeous day, with endless blue skies and puffy fair-weather clouds.

When marking out the route for this ride, I’d spaced out and omitted a shaping GPS point to take me south from Pittsburg by statying on US 3. It would have been a slightly longer and faster path keeping me a bit closer to the state line through Stewartstown before arcing back to Colebrook. Instead, I ended up retracing my earlier path back down route 145, which took about the amount of time, enjoying the road and scenery just as much in the opposite direction. I rejoined route 3 in Colebrook, ready to start my southbound run along the western border of the state.

When the Vermont colony was created by royal fiat, the border with New Hampshire was defined as the western low-water shore of the Connecticut River, which placed the entire length of the river along this two-state border within New Hampshire. I followed US 3 for a nice, if slightly busier 30 mile run of relaxing miles by the Connecticut River down to the popular town of Lancaster. Traffic was noticeable now that it was mid-morning, and my progress was only going to become more impeded  as I made my way through all the small villages and towns that populate the long bucolic Connecticut River valley.

I abandoned route 3 in Lancaster, picking up NH 135 to pursue the state line as it veered southwest with the flow of the river. I purposefully remained on 135 near Littleton, avoiding the temptation to hop on I-93 for a few miles. There’s only one more exit before the river crossing to Vermont and I didn’t want to take any chances of missing it and leaving the state accidentally. The older road 135 parallels the interstate for a few miles west, crossing it three times to stay next to the river.

Most of this route along the NH side of the river was all new riding to me, so I enjoyed the exploration, seeing new-to-me towns like charming Monroe, with its trim-looking columned town hall and well-landscaped town park areas.

It was interesting to ride through Hanover and by Dartmouth College for the first time on two wheels, though I was more interested in getting through town traffic at this point than taking photos. The low speed limits and heavy traffic in the river valley were really bringing down my average pace the further south I rode. I wanted to bank as much time as possible while daylight still burned so I could keep the speed down a bit to watch for wildlife on the second lap after darkness fell.

NH 135 gave way to NH 10 in Wells River. I took a quick nature break at a convenient roadside porta-potty in Orford and kept right on going. I picked up route 12A in White River Junction, then NH 12 down to Westmoreland. At this point, I finally broke a few miles away from the Connecticut River to follow NH 68 due south to my southwest corner town of Hinsdale, on the Massachusetts border.

Technically, I think there may be a gas pump in Hinsdale, but I think it’s a mom-n-pop place with limited hours. So after dropping a SpotWalla point to prove my routing, I headed three miles east to get my corner receipt at a 24-hour station in the next-door town of Winchester.

NH 119 would get me across about a third of the way along the straight southern border of the state. It’s a familiar and easy cruising road, that can often be a bit too busy to really enjoy during normal weekend rides. At the moment, I  appreciated the straightforward riding on smoother pavement for a bit, to give my legs a bit of a stretch on the pegs. It had been a long 10 hours in the saddle, mostly on roads that didn’t allow use of cruise control nor putting my feet up. This wasn’t one of those set-it-and-forget journeys on all-day interstate! I had an alternate series of back roads ready to queue up along the bottom of the state closer to the line, but decided it would be best to stick to main roads now, after all the time I’d lost in the valley.

I passed by US 202 then cut north from Rindge to skirt around Jaffrey on local roads up to NH 124 for a short stretch. Then more back roads leading northeast to hit NH 101 in Wilton. Once past Milford, I had to endure one of my least favorite stretches of road in New England: some seven miles of traffic lights and strip-malls on 101A leading into Nashua. That brought me back to big US 3 and full circle for Lap 1.

After taking one exit south on US 3, I secured my next receipt at the starting Gulf station at 15:03. Lap 1 completed in 11h 45m for 525 miles. The slow slog down the western side of the state had really worn me down, but I was happy to be here under the 12 hour mark.  This was cutting it pretty close, as planned, but as long as nothing went terribly wrong, I felt sure I’d also get the second lap in under 12 hours and beat the 24 hour target. I’d definitely be stopping less to take photos, especially once night fell.

Traffic felt busier along the southeast leg, now that it was mid-afternoon, but somehow I still made it over to the fuel stop in Seabrook in about 1:10. I grabbed one of those bland shrink-wrapped ham & cheese sandwiches from the cooler bin inside the store and stuck it in the tank bag to munch on as I rode.

Having gotten little sleep the previous night, I’d already started chugging what would end up a string of three 5 Hour Energy drinks, spaced about four hours apart to keep me alert through the late afternoon and evening to the finish. So I was feeling OK and thinking clearly, especially after some “solid” food in my belly.

The coastal roads were definitely busier than this morning with beachgoers and looky-loos, but not jammed up this early in the season. I patiently cruised north up the coast, breathing in the salt air and beach vibe. The salt marshes in Rye looked pretty in the late afternoon light as I made the turn to head inland again.

The ride north on NH 16 also presented more vehicles on the road than this morning, but I was able to maintain at least speed limit pace. The timing seemed to have worked out pretty well as it was getting around dinnertime – most weekenders had probably completed their travelling for the day. This time, I stuck with 16 all the way up through West Ossipee to Conway. I veered onto familiar local roads to avoid the assumed congestion in North Conway, then rejoined route 16 north of town to continue up into Pinkham Notch.

While the summit of Mount Washington was still in the clear, Tuckerman Ravine was cast in shadow and I again regretted not getting that sunrise photo this morning. Still a nice view as I continued for the second time up through Gorham and Berlin, Dixville Notch and Colebrook, motoring nonstop and keeping a sharp eye for animals in the roadway. It was twilight when I arrived once more at Young’s Store in Pittsburg. I secured my receipt at 20:33, about a half hour before they closed, and just under 6.5 hours remaining to complete my quest.

With night having fallen and less cars on the road, I made up quite a bit of time this leg, running down through the Connecticut valley. I didn’t have to go super-fast, just average a few mph over the very low speed limits, which now seemed quite easy to maintain without any rolling obstacles. The local constabulary were out patrolling and I got flashed a couple of times, but it may have been due more to my LED lighting more than the speed I was going. The wildlife was also out, and I spotted several deer on the sides of the road, a racoon, a fox, and once what I think was a large owl that swooped over my head!

While passing through the southern corner at Hinsdale and stopping at the Shell station in Winchester, I felt some sprinkles of rain and pulled up the radar on my phone. Looks like just a few scattered bands rolling across southern New Hampshire, hopefully something I could keep ahead of. That turned out to be the case, and I remained mostly in the clear for the rest of the southern leg, with just a sprinkle here and there from the fast moving clouds.

I was in the last few miles of the ride, cruising down 101A’s gauntlet of stoplights and strip-malls leading to US 3, when I spotted a motorcycle with auxiliary lighting waiting to pull into traffic from a gas station. Wow, wonder what that guy is doing out here at 02:00? He pulled out behind me and tailed me through a couple traffic lights that I slow-rolled until they turned green. Hmmm, that actually looks like an ST.

Being as tired and focused on finishing as I was at that moment, it took an actual stop at a red light and the rider pulling up beside me with a wave to realize that I actually  knew this person…it was my friend Jim Abbott!

I immediately pulled over to the shoulder after the light, still not understanding what he was doing out here tonight. He pulled up and said, “Don’t you still need to finish?” Oh! He was here to join me at the finish of my ride, now it all clicked in my tired brain.

Now, much more awake and alert from the novelty of speaking to another human being, I led us the remaining mile or so to US 3 and one exit down to NH 130. Amidst a few more sprinkles of rain, we pulled in to the Gulf station where I quickly pumped some gas and secured my finishing receipt at 02:22. That gave me a finishing time of 23:05 for the inaugural run of the Ride Around New Hampshire, at around 1050 miles.

Jim parked nearby and came over to congratulate me as well as giving me a hard time for “brucing” him and another LD rider who had been planning to do this very ride in the coming weeks. He’d seen my FB post about riding in NH today and watched my Spotwalla to figure out what I was doing. I still couldn’t get over the fact that he was here to support me at the end of my ride at two thirty in the morning and it gave me a huge emotional boost to share that moment with him. Thanks Jim!

The adrenaline from having a welcoming party (even of one) at the finish made staying alert for the hour’s ride home quite easy on the interstate. I hit one pocket of heavy rain along the way, but otherwise it was smooth sailing, pulling into my driveway and finally turning off the ignition key (which had been on continuously for over 24 hours now) at 03:47. Time to sleep!

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Afterward

While I had managed to complete this ride in under 24 hours, it had been a tough one, with no time for breaks. Success on completing this ride in under a day would also depend heavily on not hitting any delaying accidents or construction. In submitting this new ride to the Iron Butt Association, I recommended either making it a Gold-level ride or adding a couple of hours to the required completion time, to provide just enough cushion to allow for any problems or to take a couple breaks. They opted for the latter, so the official Ride Around New Hampshire allows 26 hours to complete the two circuits of the state.

Similar to the Ride Around Vermont, this route was a great way to experience the different landscapes and terrain that New Hampshire has to offer in a single day. I’d recommend even a single circuit of this route to someone looking for a long day of riding locally and not concerned with the certification.