Forward
For most of the journey, my blog posts were always a few days behind. As I rode closer to the east coast, that time lengthened - a week became the new norm.
As of right now, I am safely back in the Bay Area. I still have a few posts written and queued up.
The real story
Last night I didn't sleep one bit. I really thought I was over this by now... There were a few sleepless nights after the string of awakened between 1am and 3am in Wisconsin.
There was no reason to be nervous about my camping spot. It was secluded, somewhat difficult to reach, but still, I was awake all night.
I did have an encounter with a pair of hikers just as I was brushing my teeth last night. Their flashlights gave them away before anything else. My clearing was pitch black, on the edge of a cliff above a waterfall.
They climbed through the brush and I watched them, finally announcing myself to avoid scaring them. I didn't succeed. The loaded down bike broke the ice and they sauntered off after a brief chat about wild camping.
Regardless, I packed up the moment the sun rose.
I crossed back over the abandoned bridge to the connector road, en route to the town center, just five miles away.
And everywhere I looked, the mist rolled in over the hills.
I blazed through town, of course stopping to grab a coffee at the gas station. Usually, I heat some water and make my own, but there wasn't a single flat area where I was camping. The terrain was exclusively mossy rocks on a slight hill.
Just after town was the real destination. The folks I met yesterday suggested visiting the Singleton's General Store. I was griping about carrying perishable food and they said it would be worth it to visit this boutique butcher.
They also said, make sure you're there around breakfast.
I walked in to an eclectic general store. Stocked with flannel clothing and blankets, an entire aisle dedicated to whiskey and way in the back, a butcher's counter.
On one of the support beams in the place hung a menu; just a piece of paper with five breakfast items on it.
I'll have the breakfast burrito.
Which one...?
There was only one on the menu, but the guy clarified, what do you want on it, those are just guidelines...
Perfect. I asked for the most glorious breakfast burrito: eggs, pepper jack, house smoked bacon, a little salsa and guacamole.
And it was perfect.
I picked up a pepperoni that would age well in my bags (i.e. smoked) and enjoyed my breakfast in front of the store.
I will definitely be back - Singleton's General Store is quite incredible.
Despite not wanting to leave (almost considering another breakfast burrito), I moved on - pressing through the gravel roads nestled in the dense forests.
This was the view... everywhere.
A tulip (those are tulips... right?) farm, here and there.
I made it to Brattleboro, and quaint town on the border of Vermont and New Hampshire. My stay was brief and left me wanting more. One of those places I added to my list of towns to move to in the future.
Just eating some smoked pepperoni on Ritz crackers for lunch... admiring the view.
Crossing the river...
...then BAM, New Hampshire.
And suddenly, I was in Massachusetts.
Note to self: go back to New Hampshire and explore a little bit.
While in Brattleboro I googled a campground just across the border in Massachusetts that looked incredible. A low key place along a lake in the mountains.
I didn't pay attention to the mountains part until I got stuck climbing 1500 feet over the course of a mile just to clear a pass.
By the time I reached the site, and easy afternoon ride away (just by distance), I was exhausted. The hills were brutal.
In the sparsely populated campsite, Helen and Paul greeted me. They're on a similar journey, but on motorcycles.
After talking for a few minutes, I realized we had a lot in common, and collectively valued the experience of being on the road, exposed to humans we have never met.
Helen & Paul, you have a place to crash on the west coast. Please come out and visit. I enjoyed our brief time together - I won't be so tired and focused on finding a shower facility next time...
Joe