Saturday, July 4, 2009

Fitchburg Prologue - Vag Beach to Boston


We spent most of Tuesday getting Wick moved out of his apartment. Around 9 PM we realized that we had to be in Fitchburg by 5 PM on Wednesday to register. Good timing. Mapquest had said it would take 14 hours to get to Boston so we figured we’d try and avoid as much traffic as possible by driving though the night. I took the first shift and off we went.

We passed Richmond, then DC, and then I decided to stop for gas. I bought a small “cappuccino” at the gas station. You know, the ones that come out of the machine and are like a third sugar, a third cream, and a third coffee?

Unfortunately they only had premium gas working at the place so we headed to another gas station. As I was turning into the parking lot I hear a bang and look over to see Wick’s bike hanging off the side of the car. The rack came loose and it had fallen over.

His frame was cooked.

We got gas and continued on, in mourning. By Jersey we were back in good spirits.

The best thing about Jersey is you can drive through it on a single road. That and it’s the closest thing to what I imagine the autobahn to be like. I was in the slow lane doing 80 and people were flying past me.

Five hours later I’m still driving. I’ve driven about 600 miles at this point on one cup of coffee. I stop to use the restroom and look back to see if anyone wants to drive.

Guess not.

The gas station appears to be in a Russian suburb in Connecticut. Everyone in the store is speaking Russian. I look over to see an older Russian guy with his trunk open. He's pouring something out of a thermos into little cups for two women. At first I think it might be coffee but then I remember the old Russian saying это - 9:00 где-нибудь, meaning “It’s 9 AM somewhere.”

I get back on the highway determined to finish the trip. An hour out from Boston it starts raining. I hydroplane a few times so I slow down a bit. Even though the Exploder probably has all wheel drive with traction control, oh and don’t forget, new, properly inflated tires, I’m not taking any chances.

At 10 AM, 11 hours and 600 something miles after starting, we roll into Boston. Chris meets up outside his place and then we drop out stuff off. Then it’s time for me to go to sleep…

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