Packed the very minimum of gear, super light. After a few hours, and a delicious coffee and treats I got to my first destination to be treated with marinated pork shishkebabs of sorts. Nothing like some pork on an open flame.
The next morning it was overcast and dark. Instead of leaving at 6am I indecisively starred at the clouds for a good half an hour until heading out. I should have hung back a bit and waited out what was ahead, but I was anxious to get on the road to Portland, with a few hundred miles of twisties ahead. I knew the road I had to take went past and all around a gorgeous reservoir, so I was really looking forward to it.
And it started to rain within 30 minutes of my departure.
First a light drizzle, then a heavy rain, then back to a drizzle, then it would stop, and so on and so forth for a good hour. Fun little 55mph road in full on rain became a 40mph pain in the booty. Thank god that my Shoei helmet has magical powers to swoosh the rain away if you turn your head left and right for a quick second. You go from blind to perfect instantly. Amazing piece of plastic that thing.
Passing through Vermont was amazing, so many gorgeous roads to open up on, surrounded by vistas and little rivers crossings to pull over and stare at. Once in Portland, Maine, all sorts of delicious yummies and fun was had. That town always pleases with craft eateries and drinkaries on every corner, along with the nicest folks around as well as best friends. Been there many times, will return many more. When I pulled into Portland, after good 7 hours of twisties I was soaked and tired and ready for a brew. Mmmmmm.
Once I left Portland and headed across the nation to Boonville I felt like I came across at least a dozen lakes, each more beautiful then the next and I felt the need to stop at each one and take photos. Back roads in New Hampshire seem to have many straights, with a separate passing lane, giving me no choice but to pass a few folks here and there. As far as Ducati's go, sure, a 620 is a baby, but let me tell you, cruising behind a few slow RV's or trucks on one of these stretches of road at about 50 in 55, finding a passing lane, knocking the lil princess down to 4th from 6th real quick and giving her a bit of a twist, less then 2 seconds later you're going 80-90mph. See, when I pass I want the whole act to be over as quick as possible, so I don't exactly pay attention to the speedo. I might have to start. The bike feels like its on rails. Once you lock it into a groove, it handles itself on these curves. Sweet Jesus. What a treat :)
Boonville was perfect. Bonfires by the river until 4am. Cheap beer and gourmet burgers. Fancy music and rotten rhythms.
Even went bar hoppin in a nearby college town - now that was something else, oh boy. 
Eventually it was time to head home. More coffee and treats, a good amigo to ride the last leg of the trip with. At one point we hit 9W South, and that has to be easily one of the most beautiful and fun roads I've found on the East Coast - its like NY version of Route 1. Glorious. This little trip taught me alot about the bike and how many miles I can put down daily, realistically. Sure, a Monster is not the ideal tool for this kind of job but its a fun fun fun one, and I'm pretty sure I will be taking this puppy cross country next year, despite advice of many to take a "proper" bike. I will be reflecting upon this trip for many weeks, months and years, I'm sure. Being alone and wide open on a random country road on an early morning, moving fast, is a feeling that has to be felt, its hard to tell you exactly why its as amazing as any biker will tell you it is. After being home for only a good hour or two, I already can't wait for the next adventure, except this time south so I don't have to freeze my ass in the northern rains.
