I wrote this back in August when I was still living in the US, and had my motorcycle. Maybe some have read it already. Good times.
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Last Ride
I planned a 30 mile ride before I left my aparment. It was 11:28PM when I left my parking lot. Perfect temperature for motorcycle riding. The exact temperature, I don’t know, nor do I care for they are nothing more than numbers. I was going down I-384, thinking I should just turn around and head home to my apartment. However, I saw the fork on the road for I-84 and I-291, and figured why not, I only have my bike for another week. So I decided to hop on 291.
I love I-291 at midnight. Very desolate, no need to worry about passing or being passed. I had the freedom to go as fast or as slow as I wanted to! I ended up cruising between 55-65mph, where my bike felt most comfortable at. I thought of turning around at some point, but the bike was running all too well, I wanted to keep on riding. So I did.
I continued riding past Springfield. The view from I-91 was pretty. Particularly, the flashing neon of the Basketball Hall of Fame caught my attention. All of that went by very quick however, since Springfield isn't that big of a city. As I continued to travel north bound past Springfield, the street lights that illuminated the road became sparse. Within a couple miles, almost all street lights were gone, and I was riding in the dark. Occasionally, a car or a truck might pass me, but oddly, I appreciated their presence. I usually hate traffic, and wish I was the only one on the road, but riding at night on a desolate road can get lonely at times.
My odometer was showing 170 miles or so, which meant I should start looking for a gas station. My bike equipped with a 6.1 gallon fuel tank is good for at least 230 miles before hitting the reserve, but it was at night, and I didn’t want to take chances. So I saw the sign, I think it was Exit 18, and got off of it. At the end of the off ramp, I took a right onto Route 5 south, hoping the Mobil station would be open. When I found it, not only was it not open, but looked like it was closed forever. So I turned around to look for other gas stations, heading northbound on Route 5. Both Shell and Hess stations were closed. I thought to myself, “It’s ok, I still have at least 40 miles left. I will find another gas station.” So I continued up the route 5, which was much more interesting than the interstate. The big roads take you places quick, but you miss out on the atmosphere the area has to offer, whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
The first town I rode through was Northampton, if I remember correctly. Looked like a nice town, which reminded me of the main street in Manchester. I get stuck at this weird traffic light, that never seemed to change. I hate those sensor operated lights because they never detect motorcycles. Anyone that rides motorcycles probably know what I’m talking about. So I decided to take a right, turn around, and then take another right, to go on the way I originally wanted to go. Of course, the last right I wanted to take is a “no turn on red”, and I am forced to wait again. So I finally clear that obstacle, and I find a gas station in the area called “Pride”. I guess they have something to be proud of when their prices for the most expensive gas is under $3. Here, I stopped to fill up my tank and buy some Vault and a bottle of water. Filled up 3.432 gallons, and probably got around 50 to 60 mph. Probably closer to the latter. I continued my way north, forgetting it was a little past 1AM.
----------
Last Ride
I planned a 30 mile ride before I left my aparment. It was 11:28PM when I left my parking lot. Perfect temperature for motorcycle riding. The exact temperature, I don’t know, nor do I care for they are nothing more than numbers. I was going down I-384, thinking I should just turn around and head home to my apartment. However, I saw the fork on the road for I-84 and I-291, and figured why not, I only have my bike for another week. So I decided to hop on 291.
I love I-291 at midnight. Very desolate, no need to worry about passing or being passed. I had the freedom to go as fast or as slow as I wanted to! I ended up cruising between 55-65mph, where my bike felt most comfortable at. I thought of turning around at some point, but the bike was running all too well, I wanted to keep on riding. So I did.
I continued riding past Springfield. The view from I-91 was pretty. Particularly, the flashing neon of the Basketball Hall of Fame caught my attention. All of that went by very quick however, since Springfield isn't that big of a city. As I continued to travel north bound past Springfield, the street lights that illuminated the road became sparse. Within a couple miles, almost all street lights were gone, and I was riding in the dark. Occasionally, a car or a truck might pass me, but oddly, I appreciated their presence. I usually hate traffic, and wish I was the only one on the road, but riding at night on a desolate road can get lonely at times.
My odometer was showing 170 miles or so, which meant I should start looking for a gas station. My bike equipped with a 6.1 gallon fuel tank is good for at least 230 miles before hitting the reserve, but it was at night, and I didn’t want to take chances. So I saw the sign, I think it was Exit 18, and got off of it. At the end of the off ramp, I took a right onto Route 5 south, hoping the Mobil station would be open. When I found it, not only was it not open, but looked like it was closed forever. So I turned around to look for other gas stations, heading northbound on Route 5. Both Shell and Hess stations were closed. I thought to myself, “It’s ok, I still have at least 40 miles left. I will find another gas station.” So I continued up the route 5, which was much more interesting than the interstate. The big roads take you places quick, but you miss out on the atmosphere the area has to offer, whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
The first town I rode through was Northampton, if I remember correctly. Looked like a nice town, which reminded me of the main street in Manchester. I get stuck at this weird traffic light, that never seemed to change. I hate those sensor operated lights because they never detect motorcycles. Anyone that rides motorcycles probably know what I’m talking about. So I decided to take a right, turn around, and then take another right, to go on the way I originally wanted to go. Of course, the last right I wanted to take is a “no turn on red”, and I am forced to wait again. So I finally clear that obstacle, and I find a gas station in the area called “Pride”. I guess they have something to be proud of when their prices for the most expensive gas is under $3. Here, I stopped to fill up my tank and buy some Vault and a bottle of water. Filled up 3.432 gallons, and probably got around 50 to 60 mph. Probably closer to the latter. I continued my way north, forgetting it was a little past 1AM.
Route 5 travels right along I-91, and I often saw signs for onramps to the big road. It was tempting to get on the interstate because route 5 was lonely and creepy at times. I fought the temptation and stayed on the back roads though. That was the road I took all the way into Vermont.
Temperature seemed to go down as I got closer to Vermont. The great thing about riding a motorcycle is that you really get to smell and feel the air. It’s quite interesting really, you feel the temperature dip at certain locations, and rises at others. But sometimes, you are caught with a mesh jacket when the temperature goes down at night, which is exactly what happened to me.
Temperature seemed to go down as I got closer to Vermont. The great thing about riding a motorcycle is that you really get to smell and feel the air. It’s quite interesting really, you feel the temperature dip at certain locations, and rises at others. But sometimes, you are caught with a mesh jacket when the temperature goes down at night, which is exactly what happened to me.
I didn’t realize when I crossed the Vermont border. Brattleboro was the first sign that told me I was in Vermont. The town is a very small one, I have to say. Almost half of the town is built on a hill, and I rode through the town in a matter of a minute. I didn’t believe it at first, but I realized I passed the town already, so I turned back. I found a parking spot on the side of the road, around the middle of the town. From there, I took a walk around to sightsee, at 2AM. I noticed a fire alarm going off, but was a bit puzzled because no one was outside. People started walking out little by little. I figured they were asleep and didn’t want to get out of their beds. Feel bad for them though, it’s in middle of the week too. Most of them probably had to get up in the morning for work. Just as I was about to leave the town, fire trucks came, so I took off before they blocked off the roads or anything.
So now that I escaped, I looked for a gas station nearby. Luckily, I found a 24 hour Mobil station just a mile south of Brattleboro. It wasn’t gas this time. I needed to use the restroom. So I tried to pull the door open, it won’t open. I push the door and it still didn’t open. I saw a white lit up button in between the two doors that looked like a door bell. I thought to myself, “you gotta be kidding me”, and pressed the button. Sure enough, it actually was a doorbell, and the guy unlocked the door. I wonder if it’s like this everywhere in Vermont.
The friendly old man with frizzy hair at the counter was talking to a younger customer. They were just shooting the shit, figure it was the only thing available to do at night in a place like that. I thanked the old man, and he gave me thumbs up. Funny guy. As I put my helmet on and got ready to head out, the younger one at the counter said something to me. I had to take my helmet off and my ear plugs out to hear him. Seemed like a pain in the ass at first, but it’s always interesting to talk to people. Especially those who talk to you at 2:30AM. Talking to random people is something I learned to appreciate in the recent years. They usually have a lot of cool things to talk about.
The guy was an unique character. This person, at age 19, has worked a bunch of jobs already. I’m talking bunch, as in four jobs at once at some points. He said he has a kid, but no wife. To get into the details a bit, his girlfriend was a little pissed and broke 6 of his ribs with a crowbar, sending him to the hospital. No wonder why he isn’t engaged to her anymore, and that was a good decision on his part. He started going into child support issues, his job now, and whatnot. He had many interesting stories to tell, which I won’t list here for various reasons.
We just babbled on, until the topic of my origins came up. He seemed fascinated by the fact that I was Japanese. Probably not many of us around where he lives. He wanted me to write his name in Japanese, so I did, and also wrote down my name to show him. People have asked me to do this before, so it was nothing new to me. However, this one caught me by surprise. Normally people would say “cool”, or something along those lines and that’s what I was expecting. Instead, he goes on and says, “hey, isn’t that dragon?”. I was startled by this, how did he know what it meant? Turns out, he likes dragons, and showed me his tattoos on his arms. I noticed they lacked some details you would expect from a well done tattoo. I didn’t know whether I should tell him my honest opinions or not, because they weren’t too pretty. Turns out, he felt the same way too, so I didn’t have to censor myself. Apparently, the one who did the tattoos was on heroine, and he only found out afterwards. Poor guy. We talked for about an hour, and it was past 3:30AM so I told him I should get going. After giving me the directions back to Connecticut, he finished his cigarette and walked back into the store. I learned some important life lessons from this encounter: watch out for angry women, know who you get a tattoo from, and all there is to do in Brattleboro is to hang out at a gas station. I’m only kidding, by the way. I was finally on my way home.
By then, the temperature dropped significantly that it felt cold on my bike. It reminded me of the cool fall days when it would be perfect while the sun was up, and it gets cold almost immediately after the sun sets. Being in Vermont didn’t help. Route 5 was empty, more so than on the way up. I encountered 3 cars in maybe 30 miles. I didn’t really keep track of exact mileage. I was too occupied with the sweeping curves and the view. Not that I was able to see much scenery at night, but the combination of cool temperature, cloudless sky, and the lack of light pollution made the stars stand out. When I pulled over at the side of the road and turned off my bike and all the lights, it was literally pitch black. Couldn’t even see my own hand or any part of the bike while sitting on it. The crescent moon with the clearly visible outline of the shady area was pretty neat.
So now that I escaped, I looked for a gas station nearby. Luckily, I found a 24 hour Mobil station just a mile south of Brattleboro. It wasn’t gas this time. I needed to use the restroom. So I tried to pull the door open, it won’t open. I push the door and it still didn’t open. I saw a white lit up button in between the two doors that looked like a door bell. I thought to myself, “you gotta be kidding me”, and pressed the button. Sure enough, it actually was a doorbell, and the guy unlocked the door. I wonder if it’s like this everywhere in Vermont.
The friendly old man with frizzy hair at the counter was talking to a younger customer. They were just shooting the shit, figure it was the only thing available to do at night in a place like that. I thanked the old man, and he gave me thumbs up. Funny guy. As I put my helmet on and got ready to head out, the younger one at the counter said something to me. I had to take my helmet off and my ear plugs out to hear him. Seemed like a pain in the ass at first, but it’s always interesting to talk to people. Especially those who talk to you at 2:30AM. Talking to random people is something I learned to appreciate in the recent years. They usually have a lot of cool things to talk about.
The guy was an unique character. This person, at age 19, has worked a bunch of jobs already. I’m talking bunch, as in four jobs at once at some points. He said he has a kid, but no wife. To get into the details a bit, his girlfriend was a little pissed and broke 6 of his ribs with a crowbar, sending him to the hospital. No wonder why he isn’t engaged to her anymore, and that was a good decision on his part. He started going into child support issues, his job now, and whatnot. He had many interesting stories to tell, which I won’t list here for various reasons.
We just babbled on, until the topic of my origins came up. He seemed fascinated by the fact that I was Japanese. Probably not many of us around where he lives. He wanted me to write his name in Japanese, so I did, and also wrote down my name to show him. People have asked me to do this before, so it was nothing new to me. However, this one caught me by surprise. Normally people would say “cool”, or something along those lines and that’s what I was expecting. Instead, he goes on and says, “hey, isn’t that dragon?”. I was startled by this, how did he know what it meant? Turns out, he likes dragons, and showed me his tattoos on his arms. I noticed they lacked some details you would expect from a well done tattoo. I didn’t know whether I should tell him my honest opinions or not, because they weren’t too pretty. Turns out, he felt the same way too, so I didn’t have to censor myself. Apparently, the one who did the tattoos was on heroine, and he only found out afterwards. Poor guy. We talked for about an hour, and it was past 3:30AM so I told him I should get going. After giving me the directions back to Connecticut, he finished his cigarette and walked back into the store. I learned some important life lessons from this encounter: watch out for angry women, know who you get a tattoo from, and all there is to do in Brattleboro is to hang out at a gas station. I’m only kidding, by the way. I was finally on my way home.
By then, the temperature dropped significantly that it felt cold on my bike. It reminded me of the cool fall days when it would be perfect while the sun was up, and it gets cold almost immediately after the sun sets. Being in Vermont didn’t help. Route 5 was empty, more so than on the way up. I encountered 3 cars in maybe 30 miles. I didn’t really keep track of exact mileage. I was too occupied with the sweeping curves and the view. Not that I was able to see much scenery at night, but the combination of cool temperature, cloudless sky, and the lack of light pollution made the stars stand out. When I pulled over at the side of the road and turned off my bike and all the lights, it was literally pitch black. Couldn’t even see my own hand or any part of the bike while sitting on it. The crescent moon with the clearly visible outline of the shady area was pretty neat.
I took route 5 until Northampton where I decided to hop on the interstate. The sky was starting to get brighter as I passed Springfield, considerably more traffic than on the way up. It was only 5AM, but people were driving to work already, probably to beat the rush hour traffic. I merged onto 384 and the rest of the ride was pretty uneventful, except for couple attempts to take a photo while I rode. That was interesting, to say the least. When I arrived at my parking lot, the Timex watch I attached to the handlebar read 6:06AM. The sun was coming up, something I never get to see.
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