Day 16

Roanoke, Virginia, to Nashville, Tennessee
436 Miles
4263.5 Total Miles

Tennessee

We're home. Through thirteen states and one province, over 4200 miles in sixteen days, Nova Scotia 2008 is over.

It was a great ride.

We started the day in Roanoke, Virginia. After the 450 mile ride yesterday, bedtime came very early last night. As a result, we were up and ready to be on the road by 6:30 central time.

Packing up the bikes for the last time

We began our ride under clear skies with temperatures in the 60's. We rode through dense fog for the first hour as the temperature dipped to 60 degrees at one point in the morning.

According to the GPS, Nashville lay 435 miles away. We decided to go ahead and wrap things up.

Today's ride was just like the one we had yesterday, except for a major difference. Instead of finishing up the day in another cookie cutter motel room, we would end the day at home and get to sleep in our own beds. That's a lot of motivation.

We split the day into 100 mile sections. Ride 100 miles, then stop at a convenience store for a little R&R, a soft drink and fuel. Then repeat. Our last stop was at a rest stop on I-40 about 60 miles from Nashville. By then the temperature was over 90 degrees.

Jim cruising down I-81

Bo survived the ride by depending on the nicotine
gum holder he attached to his handlebars

We rolled into Nashville at 1:45 and radioed our goodbyes on I-440. Just a few minutes later the trip was over.

Bo's bike at home after a long ride

Anyway, it's great to be home. The allure of the open road is strong but family, friends and even that dreaded thing called work are even stronger.

The dogs are happy everyone is home safe

Now it's time to think about next year. There's talk of riding to Banff, in the Canadian Rockies. We're also thinking about going international in a serious way. Jim mentioned Italy and Bill likes the Alps. Bo is interested in New Zealand but isn't sure how comfortable it would be to spend a couple of weeks riding on the wrong side of the road. The early favorite is Banff.

See you in 2009.

Day 15

New Milford, Pennsylvania, to Roanoke, Virginia
451 Miles
3829 Total Miles


We left New Milford this morning under sunny skies and low humidity. The temperature was a cool 65 degrees when we pulled onto I-81 South at 8:30 this morning.

Today's ride proves that Charles Kuralt was correct when he said, "Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel from coast to coast without seeing anything."

We spent the entire day on I-81 and, although we continued to enjoy riding our motorcycles, we did not see or learn anything new. As a result, our cameras stayed in their bags. We figure everyone has seen an interstate. Not every day is filet. Some days are hamburger (had to say something about food).




We really put on the miles today, 451 total, which was our biggest ride of this trip. We spent the entire day in a constant cluster of cars and trucks.

We found ourselves on the interstate because we spent the past two days continuing to tour. Our visit to Woodstock and the Catskills yesterday came at a price: we didn't get much closer to home. So we started the day 858 miles from Nashville. We decided that, unless we want to arrive home to dogs who don't remember us, we needed to make tracks.

Riding on the interstate is statistically much safer than riding on two-lanes. There are no driveways, gravel tails, dogs, left-hand turners or traffic lights; all things that threaten the street rider. That being said, riding on a busy interstate takes an incredible amount of mental energy. Maintaining extreme vigilance makes for a safe ride but it does take a lot out of you.

We plan to repeat the experience. Tomorrow we return to the wormhole called I-81, hunker down and ride 430 miles to Nashville. Plans can change, however, so if we see something particularly interesting, we may venture off the interstate and return to the real world.

Day 14

Bennington, Vermont, to New Milford, Pennsylvania
297 Miles
3378 Total Miles


"By the time we got to Woodstock, we were half a millon strong."
- Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

"By the time we got to Woodstock, we were in our fifties."
- Bo & Jim

We started our day in Bennington, Vermont at the Kirkside Motor Inn. The Kirkside proved to be a comfortable place and very friendly to riders. The owner, Billy, gave us rags for cleaning our bikes. He says this prevents people from using his room towels to clean the road grime off their bikes. We would never do that. Steal them maybe, but not clean our bikes with them. We do have our standards.

We set out under perfect blue skies with low humidity and temperatures in the high 60's. It promised to be a great day to ride.

Jim studies the road map during a rest break

U.S. Highway 7 south took us quickly across the Vermont boarder and into Massachusetts. A local eatery, The Chef's Hat, came highly recommended. Breakfast was accompanied by a ten minute session with our collection of road maps. One city name stood out like a beacon: Woodstock, New York. A true cultural icon sits only 90 or so miles from our current location: the summer of love, 3 days of peace and music, Joe Cocker, Hendrix, Country Joe and the Fish. We had no choice but to go.

We left Massachusetts behind and entered New York state. We passed through the city of Kinderhook, which was settled by Dutch explorer Henry Hudson in the 1600's. Lots of things in the area have Dutch names. Local attractions include the home of former President Martin Van Buren and a restored Shaker community. Our Hudson River crossing took place on the Rip Van Winkle Bridge.

We arrived in Woodstock, which is located in the Catskill Mountains, in time for lunch on the patio of the Landau Grill. The patio was prime real estate for people watching. Woodstock is a magnet for veterans of the summer of love. Sadly, several of these flower children had clearly wilted. They stood out among the traveling families, young hipsters and assorted tourists. These veterans of the 60's are now in their 60's, grey haired, ponytailed, and with expressions on their faces that, to quote an old Led Zepplin song, are dazed and confused. So much for better living through chemistry.



A quick shopping trip for Woodstock apparel completed, we began a beautiful ride through the Catskills Park, a 700,000 acre preserve that was once home to the Mohawk tribe but more recently has been the home of numerous mountain resorts that attracted a large clientèle from New York City. Among the comedians who performed regularly at these resorts were Mel Brooks, Woody Allen, Rodney Dangerfield, Alan King, Joan Rivers, George Burns, Lenny Bruce... the list goes on and on.

We thought our best riding was over when we turned onto New York Highway 30 to exit the park area. To our surprise, Highway 30 provided the best ride we have experienced outside of Nova Scotia. Highway 30 followed the serpentine shoreline of the Pepacto Reservoir, one of the four reservoirs located in the Catskills that provide water for New York City. The spirited ride was 42 miles of twisty roads surrounded on both side by lush vegetation that shaded the road surface.

We then hit the interstate on route to Binghamton, New York, where we hoped to find a decent motel. What we found was the grimiest, most depressing city either of us could remember. We would have taken a picture but were afraid someone might steal our camera.

We left Binghamton and headed south on I-81. We had great difficulty finding a motel. One promising motel could have been the inspiration for the Bates Motel in Hitchcock's movie Psycho.

We finally found a new Holiday Inn Express. Once we unpacked out bikes and settled into the Holiday Inn, your weary travelers had dinner delivered from a local restaurant.

The trim on Bo's helmet needed repair and duct tape came to the rescue

Tomorrow, we continue our return to Nashville.

Bill Thompson called yesterday. He reported that his ride from Portland, New Hampshire, to Manchester, New Hampshire, to return his rental motorcycle and to fly back to Nashville was a miserable, rainy affair. He is now back in Nashville and back at work. We wish he was still riding with us, but, if anyone has to get back to work, we're happy it is him and not us.

Day 13

Portland, Maine, to Bennington, Vermont
240 Miles
3081 Total Miles

We awoke to dark skies and a wet parking lot. Our plans for the day were to ride south and catch a sliver of Rhode Island, adding the 40th state to Bo's quest to ride in all 50 states. A quick check of the national weather map on www.weather.com showed only a very small portion of the USA would experience rain today. Most of that small sliver was the ride from Portland to Rhode Island. To the east lay new Hampshire and Vermont, two beautiful places that were forecast to be cloudy with an chance of light showers.

Great day for a ride

Let's digress a bit and talk about life. Is life a checklist of things to be accomplished? Or is it experiential? Since the checklist side of the ledger would be rainy and the experiential side might be rainy our decision was clear and easy to make. We decided to experience the beauty of New England in the dry instead of checking off another state in Bo's 50-state quest while riding in the rain. This is the kind of drivel that fills your mind as you ride over 3000 miles on a motorcycle. Imagine what ice road truckers think about all day.

But first, we needed breakfast. There's no need to fill in the details. Nothing has changed except for the absence of yogurt on the menu.

We rode east on Maine Highway 25, and then on Highway 104. We crossed into New Hampshire and a slight drizzle began to fall. We rode on until it became a light rain. We stopped to don our rain gear. Putting on rain gear does two things. First, it makes you hot. No matter how much Goretex a garment contains, it's still hotter wearing it than not wearing it. Second, it makes the rain go away. Within five miles of putting on our rain gear the rain stopped, not to return throughout the day. So, we rode on under hot and dry conditions for a while and then stopped and removed our rain gear. We then turned onto U.S. Highway 4 on route to Rutland, Vermont.

The Quchee Valley Gorge

We soon arrived in Lebanon, New Hampshire, a small town on the New Hampshire-Vermont border. We saw two restaurants that looked interesting. We stopped, dismounted our bikes and asked a passerby which was the better restaurant. He said they were both good but that he was a part owner of the one we parked in front of. That was all we needed to hear. His restaurant is called the Salt Hill and they served a great club sandwich, corned beef reuben and home-made chips.

The Salt Hill Restaurant in Lebanon, New Hampshire

The ride into Vermont took us through several old New England villages. In many ways, Vermont is like a green theme park. Most homes and shops are adorned with wildflower plantings, the architecture is often Victorian and well preserved and the business community is largely comprised of artisan shops, local restaurants and quaint country stores. The vegetation is lush and the small farms are neatly manicured.

Vermont countryside

It seemed to take forever, but we finally navigated the 42 mile ride to Rutland. Once in Rutland we turned south on Highway 7 on route to Bennington, Vermont.

We rode down Highway 7 for about 30 minutes and stopped for a cup of coffee. Convenience stores throughout New England carry Green Mountain coffee. Usually, they have five to ten vacuum canisters full of different brews, each of them really good. Accompanying the coffee is a half and half dispenser. Good stuff. Across the street from the market was a little workshop that sold birdhouses crafted by hand on the premises. We each ordered one and had them shipped to Nashville.

We finished our coffee and got back on the bikes. We were soon in Bennington, Vermont, our resting place for the evening.

Bathrooms in Bennington gas station

Accommodations for the night were found at the Kirkside Motor Lodge, an older motel that is clean and that caters to motorcyclists. The owner, a New Yorker named Billy, once lectured on financial matters at the Vanderbilt University School of Law. How and why he ended up running a motel in Vermont is anybody's guess.

While sitting on a bench in front of our room, another guest of the Kirkland Motor lodge walked up and joined in our conversation. He is from Rogersvile, Tennessee. Then a couple of guys rolled up on bicycles. They were two forty-somethings who decided one day to fly from New Hampshire to Washington state with their bicycles and then peddle back to New Hampshire. Neither of them were experienced cyclists. After 43 days on the road, they are now less than two riding days from home. One of them is still wondering why he did it. My advice, which I did not offer, would be to get something with an engine.

We had dinner at a local Italian place that was good, but no threat to Nikki's in Chester, Maine. On the walk back to the Kirkside we admired the many life like statues that were scattered along the sidewalks. They are part of a collection by artist J. Sewart Johnson that will be in Bennington through November, 2008.

Bo reading the Wall Street Journal with statues

Tomorrow we will continue south on to Nashville. We will figure out our route for the day over breakfast, as usual.

(Photos from Day 12 are posted below)

Day 12 Photos

Our bikes in front of the Mecklenburgh Inn

Suzi, the Innkeeper

The Nova Scotia coast is dotted with picturesque villages

The Lunenburg Academy building

Victorian home in Lunenburg

Our new friend Mel, a rider from Alberta

Bo unloading his bike upon arrival in Portland, Maine

Day 12

Chester, Nova Scotia, to Portland, Maine
258 Kilometers
4558 Total Kilometers

We awoke at the Mecklenburgh Inn rested and still friends after sharing a small room among the three of us. Not wanting to push our luck, we'll probably never go out of our way to repeat the experience.

It is Sunday in Chester and all is quiet. The sky is blue and the air is cool. Our last day in Nova Scotia promises to be a good one.

Our innkeeper, Suzi, prepared a tasty breakfast of bacon, various melons and pancakes. Breakfast was shared with other guests at the Inn, including a couple from Windsor, England, and another couple from Halifax, Nova Scotia. They proved to be interesting companions. We hope they share that opinion of us.

After yesterday's 24 hour feeding frenzy none of us were particularly hungry and successfully limited our caloric intake.

We said goodbye to Suzi at 9:30. The next stop was just down the road. The reason for the stop is confidential but we are hopeful that packages will be delivered to our spouses prior to our arrival home.

We had a few hours to kill before our scheduled arrival in Yarmouth to meet the Cat ferry so we continued our coastal ride through the little seaside villages.

A particularly impressive stop was in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. It is a remarkably well preserved village that has gained designation as a World Heritage site. It is larger than Chester, Nova Scotia, and a bit more touristy. But it is clearly the most interesting of the little towns we have seen during this trip.

We realized while leaving Lunenburg that we were 60 kilometers further away from Yarmouth than we thought. We canned plans further coastal explorations, took to the divided highway and scooted directly to Yarmouth.

We arrived at the Cat ferry dock with 30 minutes to spare, had a quick cheeseburger (notice that the quality of our meals is rapidly diminishing) and boarded the ferry.

Once on board we settled down for the 6 hour ride to Portland, Maine.

This ride on the Cat Ferry was fairly rough, unlike our ride from Bar Harbor to Yarmouth. Bo was in the men's room when a seasick Cat Ferry crew member burst into the room, threw open a stall door and, well, you know, got sick. He might consider another line of work. Something on land maybe.

While on board we met Mel, a heavy machinery operator who does pipeline work in Alberta, Canada. He is a good fellow who has been on the road now for two weeks and will not return home for another four weeks. He has plans to visit friends in Cookeville, Tennessee, in a couple of weeks.

Dinner on the Cat Ferry consisted of a ham and cheese sandwich for Bo and baked chicken for Bill and Jim. My, how the mighty have fallen.

The Cat Ferry finally reached port. We unboarded and lined up for U.S Customs. Unlike our arrival in Nova Scotia, things went smoothly. Just to be sure, Bo stayed in a different line, away from Bill and Jim.

We arrived at our motel at 10:00, checked in, unpacked the bikes and had a toast in celebration of a successful trip to Nova Scotia. We said goodbye to Bill, who leaves early tomorrow morning for Manchester, Maine, where he will return his rental bike and fly back to Nashville. He goes to work tomorrow. What an unpleasant thought.

Jim and Bo haven't mapped out their return route yet. A quick dip into Rhode Island is a possibility. Bo would like to ride his bike in all 50 states. Rhode Island will increase the total to 40.

Once again, the extra time to review and post photos is not available. The separate posting of Day 11's photo seems to have worked pretty well so Day 12 photos will be posted tonight.

Day 11 Photos

We were unable to post photos for Day 11 this morning so here they are, just a bit late:

The Martin Arms motel in Sydney, Nova Scotia, was once a local hospital

Jim relaxing after lunch at the Lobster Shack


Bill preparing a photo shoot at the Lobster Shack


Not a bad view from the lunch table


Jim geared up and ready to ride


A day at the beach, Nova Scotia style


Coastal Nova Scotia


Jim riding behind Bo

William, a tourist from Munich, Germany, rides a 28
year old Honda, which he has ridden through the Sahara


Bo and Bill in front of the Mecklenburgh Inn


Bill at rest after extravagant dinner


Our room at "Camp Mecklenburgh"

Day 11

Sydney, Cape Breton, to Chester, Nova Scotia
548 Kilometers
4300 Total Kilometers

Warning: Today's blog entry contains graphic representations of excessive and reckless behavior related to high caloric intake. Vivid descriptions of the ravenous consumption of mammals and marine life may be offensive to PETA members and marine biologists. Reader discretion is advised.

We decided on two missions for the day: first, to ride good roads in good weather and second, to ride a long way. Both missions were accomplished. A third mission developed along the way; to eat as much as possible while continuing our forward motion.

The weather was perfect. Temperatures throughout the day ranged from 65 to 77 degrees. The humidity was low and the skies were clear. Most of the roads we traveled were twisty and the traffic was relatively light.

We also put in 548 kilometers, which is a big day when only a little interstate riding is involved.

It was important that we cover a lot of kilometers today because we need to be in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, by 3:00 tomorrow to board the Cat ferry. After today, we are now positioned to make a short ride tomorrow. We will travel on the Cat ferry from Yarmouth to Portland, Maine. The trip takes almost seven hours and we will not arrive in Portland until 10:00 eastern time. We will then to go through customs and eventually check into our motel. We hope US Customs allows Jim and Bill back into the country.

But let's talk about today. Actually, let's talk mainly about what your travelers had to eat today. Brace yourself, it's impressive.

We left the Martin Arms motel at 7:00 in the morning. We did our morning "Bob check" of the room. Bo's dad, the late Bob Johnson, always did a final and through check of the motel room before departure while on family trips. He opened every drawer, checked under every bed and carefully scanned every square inch of the floor - at least twice. We think he did this because Bo can lose anything at any time.

The odometer read128 kilometers when the bikes rolled to a stop in the Tim Horto's parking lot. Another trip to Tim Horton's meant more sausage, egg and cheese biscuits. Now, however, to humor the food police, breakfast included strawberry yogurt laced with blackberries and raspberries.

We added another 256 kilometers before lunch. Today's route included a lot of backtracking over previously-traveled roads today, which put us on path to the Lobster Shack in Salmon River, Nova Scotia. Lunch there the other day was great so a return visit seemed to be in order.

Today's lunch consisted of lobster bruschetta, fish and chips and fettucine with smoked salmon. Deserts included blackberry smash and triple citrus sherbet.

We staggered away from the Lobster Shack and remounted our iron horses.

The GPS routed us through Halifax. There is no easy way through Nova Scotia's largest city. There is no limited access road that rips through Halifax so getting from one end of the city to the other end can be pretty complicated. Our GPS, which speaks with an Australian female voice (our tribute to Nashville's newest mom, Nicole Kidman), did it's usual efficient job.

Once though Halifax we hit the back roads that meander along the south shore on Nova Scotia's Atlantic ocean side. Pretty little seacoast towns dotted much of our path.

We passed several beaches that were full of pale people, many with slightly blueish legs. Don't think Miami Beach. Don't even thing Destin. Some of the beaches encompassed less than a third of an acre of land. They were rocky with a little sand scattered there and there. The water rolls in from the North Atlantic, so it is cold, cold, cold, which explains the blueish legs. Not our idea of a good time but each to their own.

Late in the day we arrived in Chester, Nova Scotia, a little seaside community full of nice homes owned primarily by Americans, who excape to here from summers in New York and Boston.

We were given directions to the Mecklenburgh Inn, a little B&B run by a friendly and acomodating Chester native named Suzi. She placed us in a well decorated room with three single beds. Yes, that's right. We're all nice and cozy (translated, we're crammed in) in a little room not much bigger than the room you had at home when you were a child. It's like summer camp (translated, we never really liked summer camp).

We squeezed three motorcycle loads of luggage into our little room and walked downstairs to do a little bike maintenance. We then walked a couple of blocks to the restaurant.

We dined at Nikki's, a little restaurant attached to another B&B down the street. Our dinner consisted of: tempura scallops, scallop ceviche, and smoked salmon. Those were just the appetizers. The entrees included Lamb Shanks, grilled Halibut on polenta and a two and one-half pound lobster. Deserts included a pavlova (baked merrangue), chocolate cake and creme brulee. It was excessive and wonderful. The gracious staff at Nikki's, more accustomed to the Ralph Lauren/Lily Pulitizer crowd, took great care of these three motorcyclists. The food was incredible. Once again, we found ourselves waddling out of yet another restaurant.

Bill and Bo were happier than Jim because it was Jim's turn to pay for dinner.

Instead of climbing back aboard the bikes as we did after lunch, we took a long, and much needed walk though Chester's seafront downtown.

Once back to the Mecklenburgh Inn we climbed up the stairs and grabbed hammocks and rocking chairs on the second floor balcony. After 548 kilometers and two obscene meals we didn't last long on the balcony.

It was off to bed for a night's sleep before our last day in Nova Scotia.

It was a good night's sleep. Jokes about the small room notwithstanding, the Mecklenburgh Inn is a comfortable, attractive place that we would love to stay in again.

Photos for Day 11 will be posted soon. we didn't have time this morning to do so.

Day 10

Sydney, Cape Breton
90 Kilometers
3751 Total Kilometers

Usually the riding itself is the main attraction of a motorcycle trip. Getting to wherever you are ultimately going is just a reason to turn around and ride back home. Today, however, we used our motorcycles only as basic transportation.

After many long days on the road we decided to have a quiet, easy day. And we did.

Our destination was Fort Louisbourg, a historic coastal fort that was the scene of several 18th century battles between the nations of France and England. The Canadian nation park system has turned the fort into a premier attraction.

We left the Martin Arms motel in Sydney at a leisurely 9:00 and programmed our GPS to take us to Fort Louisbourg. We hoped to find a good breakfast place along the way.

An older man in a pickup truck gave Bill directions to a convenience store that, he claimed, served the best breakfast in the area. We found Mullens Rite Stop about 15 kilometers down the road. The man was right. We had the usually cholesterol-free breakfast, which was excellent.

Mullens is one of those stores you find in rural areas that serves a lot of different needs. It is a hardware store, grocery store, auto parts store, restaurant, gas station, Sears store and Canadian postal store. And a liquor store.

Mullens, a one-stop shop

Ourside, we ran across Kathy, who has a strawberry stand set up in the parking lot. She is a real sweetheart. She offered up the best, sweetest strawberries any of us had ever tasted.

Jim and Kathy at the strawberry stand

We departed Mullens and arrived at Fort Louisbourg a few minutes later.

Fort Louisbourg is one of the premier parks in the Canadian national park system. It contains some of the original structure and the remainder has been rebuilt in such a way that you would never guess any of it is a reconstruction. The old village of Louisbourg has also been rebuilt.

The fort is staffed by an incredibly knowledgeable, hospitable staff who are clad in period clothing. There are British and French soldiers, blacksmiths, restaurateurs and others representative of the 2800 people who peopled the area in the mid 1700's. Those of you who have visited colonial Williamsburg will appreciate what it was like.

The fort was built by the French to protect the cod fishing operation they established in the waters of Cape Breton. At it's peak, the operation shipped 50 million pounds of cod a year to the French mainland. The British conquered the fort in 1745, gave it back and conquered it again in the 1750's.

It's worth reading about so click on these links for a fuller, more literate history of the fort:
Canadian Park Service
Wikipedia
Nova Scotia Tourism

The fort contains several authentic period restaurants. We decided to try one out and it was a good decision. We were given a big spoon, a napkin the size of a towel, and really good food.

We have received word that some of our readers want more pictures. Your author isn't sure how to take that. His ego led him to believe that the desire for more photos was to augment good writing, not to cover up bad writing. Regardless, here are several photos from our trip to Fort Louisbourg:

The fort from inside the main yard.


Bill discussing the finer points of artillery strategy


Another shot of the fort from inside the yard


Bo explaining to a French soldier that "frog" is really a compliment


Cannon lined the walls of the fort

Jim pointing out that Bill actually knows very little about artillery

Bo and Bill with French sentry

We left Fort Louisbourg and returned to Sydney for another overnight at the Martin Arms.

Jim and Bill plot our course for tomorrow

Tomorrow we begin our trek back to Yarsmouth for another Cat ferry crossing, this time from Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, to Portland, Maine. We have a day and a half of riding in which to get there.

Day 9

Port Hawkesbury, Cape Breton, to Sidney, Cape Breton
405 Kilometers
3661 Total Kilometers

We breakfasted this morning at a McDonalds across the street from the Maritime Hotel. Bill and Bo feasted on pig and eggs while Jim greeted the morning with a McLobster. That's right, a McLobster. The food and coffee was tasty and we were ready to start another day of exploration. Well, eventually.

McLobster

We found a small local park and decided to hang out a while. We have traveled from motel to motel, unpacking and packing our bikes at every stop for nine days now. Add to that over 3000 kilometers on loud, windy, vibrating motorcycles. It's great fun but we needed a little rest. So, we dismounted our bikes and napped and read for a couple of hours.

Rejuvenated, we climbed back aboard our bikes and aimed for the Cabot Trail, the most scenic ride in Nova scotia. It hugs the rugged coastline of Cape Breton. The Lonely Planet calls it the number one road trip in america.

Like most motorcycle trips, getting there is more than half the fun. We spent a couple of hours on the Ceilidh Trail, which, according to the Nova Scotia tourism website, "around every bend, the Ceilidh Trail offers stunning vistas of rugged coastline, bays and inlets, verdant hills and rolling farmlands as it follows the shore of western Cape Breton for 107 km (67 mi.) from the Canso Causeway to the Cabot Trail." The Ceilidh Trail crosses the Celtic region of Nova Scotia. Many of the signs along the road were printed in both modern English and Gaelic, the language of the Celtic people.

Road sign along the Ceilidh Trail

We stopped for a visit at Joe's Scarecrows, a really bizarre roadside attraction that featured fully dressed scarecrows, including scarecrow renditions of Ronald Reagan and Jimmy Carter.

He's back and better than ever

Jim at Joe's Scarecrows

We then found a little roadside restaurant and continued our assualt on Nova Scotia's sea dwelling creatures. Clams and Haddock made for a fine lunch.

We stopped for gas and noticed that a local boy is one of the ten finalists on Canadian Idol. He's Mitch McDonald, a local carpenter and singer. There were signs urging people to vote for him all over the area.

Log on and vote for Mitch

We then found the Cabot Trail. Part of the trail runs through small villages and another part is in the Cape Breton National Park. The first part was beautiful. The National Park section was incredible. The road twisted along the coast, rising and falling in elevation. It offered one incredible view after another. The riding was also superb. Hairpin curves were followed by broad sweepers, which were followed by intense downhill twisties that required our full attention and tested our riding skills to the utmost.

Scenic view off the Cabot Trail

It's not easy keeping our eyes on the road

To our dismay our Cabot Trail ride was soon over. We then began our ride to Sydney, the third biggest city in Nova Scotia. By then we were riding under very dark skies. Finally our luck ran out and it began to rain. We donned our rain gear and continued to ride. After a wet ferry crossing and a final 32 kilometer ride we arrived at our motel in Sydney. We had dinner in the hotel restaurant (not recommended if avoidable) and Day 9 was over.

Tomorrow we plan to ride around the Sydney area. Our focus will be to find some more interesting roadside attractions.

Definitely on our schedule is Fort Louisbourg, the site of many conflicts between the English and French and now part of the Canadian national park system.