Hello there Woburn. Last Friday we decided to pack up and head north for the weekend. After I got the lawn tractor in the truck, I hooked up the trailer and put the motorcycle on board and off we went. On the way up my wife asked, “What are your plans tomorrow?” I didn’t really have any, I just answered, “cut the grass, then nothing.” Sure enough Saturday morning was bright and sunny. I Fired up the tractor and began cutting. Now when I am at home here in North Woburn, whenever I cut the grass, I picture myself in the Daytona 500. I blast through it as fast as possible just to get done. But somehow up there, I picture myself as one of those Nebraska wheat farmers, packing a lunch and heading to the field to cut wheat from early morning until the sun goes down. I picture wheat as far as the eye can see and beyond, and it’s my job to cut it all. After two hours, I was done, I went in and showered and mentioned I was thinking of taking the motorcycle for a ride. My wife surprised me by saying she wanted to go. She usually goes, but she is not a fan of the bike, so I don’t push her. But today she volunteered to go, so we packed a few things and off we went.
We decided to take a ride along the old US route 5 along the Connecticut River. We started out along Lake Morey in Fairlee Vermont. The lake is named after Samuel Morey, the real inventor of the first steamboat. History has proven it was not Fulton as we have been taught to believe. It also hosts what I am told is a world famous golf course. Since I do not play the game, I have to take the word of the person who told this to me. It is also home to a motel/drive-in theater, you can watch the movie right out your motel window! It is the only one of its kind in the country.
We headed north up U.S. route 5, into Bradford, which is the home of the first globe, and onward Into Newbury, home of the annual fiddler’s contest. We enjoyed winding our way through the hills. There are a string of towns along this route that were once thriving towns along the Railway and River, The rail was once vital to these towns. In the late 60’s and early 70’s Interstate 91 pushed its way into the area and slowly these towns began to die. And since the rails could not compete with the trucks on the interstate, the trains stopped rolling through as well.
Houses that were once grand line the road, now most have fallen into disrepair. In Woburn, some alderman would deem them a nuisance to the neighborhood, but up there they are commonplace. People were sitting out on the leaning porches as if they were posing for a painting. Old roadside motels have been converted into apartments; their cabins that once were full of tourists are now rented to families.
There are some farms along the way that are still hanging on. Holsteins and Jersey’s dotted the fields on both sides of the road, along with the smells of the farm that you can only savor on the back of a motorcycle! Everywhere, farmers were out in the fields haying, giant bales lining the sides of the road. These family farms are dying for sure, but they keep working the land and keep the way of life to pass on to the generations yet to come.
Along the way we saw old trains left to rust and decay. Evidently, there was no longer a need for them, so they were left where the engineers shut them down. It reminded me of that Arlo Guthrie song, “The City of New Orleans” especially the part about the rails just roll along past houses, farms, and fields. As we kept going, we were just taking in the scenery, the mountains, the river, and the farms. So many different things to see! We went through so many small towns that are now dots on the map, towns with names such as, McIndoe Falls, Barnet, Passumpsic, Eventually ending in St, Johnsbury, Which is the home of the Fairbanks Museum and Fairbanks scales.
We stopped at the visitor center which was the old train station, and it is being refurbished to its grand splendor from the glory days of rail travel. I went in to ask some directions about going back on the New Hampshire side. Once we got going again, we crossed the border and headed south. Again, we passed towns that mirrored the north bound trip. Towns that are slowly dying, yet somehow hanging on. We passed a covered bridge in Bath N.H. and couldn’t resist turning around to go over it. My wife shot video of us traveling over the one car bridge. We skipped the “Country Store” on the other side. Eventually we wound our way back down until we reached the crossing over point back into Vermont, and leading back to our camp. It was a fantastic Saturday, fantastic because the weather was picture perfect, the scenery was wonderful, my companion was truly great, and best of all it was totally unplanned and uncharted. We didn’t have a map or a GPS navigator. We just rode, When we left, it was 11:00 am. We arrived back at 5:45 pm.
It was nice to just do something on a Saturday that did not involve yard work, Or running to stores or paying bills. If you ever get a chance to take in a Saturday “off the cuff” Do it. Don’t think about it, just go for it.
Peace to you all.
