Start:
End:
Mileage: 202 miles
Route taken: Highway 3
through the
Because it was a Sunday I noticed the churches more as I
drove through the small towns of central
My day had started at
Small communities were on Highway 3, but there were all types
of denominations; Protestant, Methodist, Episcopalian, Baptist,
Catholic,
Church of the Nazarene, Calvary Chapel.
It was then I realized how many churches there are in towns.
You wouldn’t think would have enough people to fill them, but that
theory was resoundingly
proven incorrect.
Though I was born Catholic, I have been practicing Buddhism
for a couple of years, which in some ways, really is more of a way of
life than
a religion. I still appreciate the Catholic Church, even if I don’t
agree with
everything that is taught.
I like Buddhism. It is more about peace than conformity and
people are encouraged to find the answers, not given them and expected
to blindly
follow them. I know this will upset my Christian friends, and I don’t
mean any
insult, it is just my observation.
I believe there is room enough in this world for several
types of religions and if anyone has any type of faith that is good.
My cathedral for this Sunday was the
It couldn’t have been more than 75 degrees and even in August
there was crispness to the air that felt more like Fall than summer.
I
was going northeast, chasing the trail of the Canadian border. I had
originally
planned on going through Route 11, which is a little higher up and runs
parallel with Route 3, but it would have skirted the mountain range and
I would
have missed some incredible scenery.
The
trees were crowded together like a New York City Subway platform at
rush hour,
springing up a couple hundred feet in the air.
The
forest was not as dense closer to the two-lane road and through it you
could
spy the occasional pond. My knowledge of trees is minimal, but I did
spot
Pines, maples and beech trees.
It
is massive, six million acres and you feel the enormity when you pass
the sign
to the entrance half way up Route 3.
The
first named lake I came across was just before
It
was like they were guarding the lake and it made me stay a respectful
distance
from the water.
The
other three are more recreational. There were boat docks at these lakes
and
people enjoying them.
I
had breakfast in a little town before
They
were locals, the husband
living in the area his entire life and it was gracious of them to let
me sit at
the opposite end of the table. They were extremely pleasant and we
talked about
the town and motorcycling and each other’s lives. It was a far better
way to
eat breakfast then to read the newspaper alone.
When
I got on the bike, I was invigorated, but Libertad was not. The
altitude had
messed with the carburetor a bit, and she was being a little difficult.
I
had to worry against flooding the bike with too much gas and feathered
the
throttle while enough air tried to enter the chamber to start the bike
over.
It
took a little finesse, but she finally coughed and spit to signal she
was ready
to go. We headed towards
The
little resort town is the site of the greatest moment in sports history
and I
had to play tourist for just a moment.
The
1980 United States Hockey Team’s victory over the
To
actually see where it happened and touch the ice was pretty special. I
have
always loved hockey and this is definitely the sport’s greatest hour.
The
size is what you notice first. The arena is small, with a capacity of
7,800. It
doesn’t even look like it would seat that many.
There
was a lone figure skater practicing her routines on the ice. I and two
teenagers were walking around, though she didn’t even notice us.
Her
coach noticed me putting my boot on the ice and yelled at me from the
top of
the stairs to get off the ice. His voice carried throughout the arena
and I
quickly complied.
From
It
is the Au Sable Chasm, a box canyon carved out 10,000 years ago during
the ice
age. The natural waterfalls were formed from the erosion.
Port
While
I was on the 85-minute ride I came across three women from