Is Mount Washington Better Than Laconia. Yep

Exit 20 into Laconia, THE BIG EVENT, CLUSTERFUCK, the three T’s:  TOURISTS, TEE SHIRTS, AND TRAFFIC. Spent close to A HALF HOUR OF STOP AND GO, between Weirs Beach, and Meredith. Can’t split lanes, cause there’s cops everywhere. Bikes are running hot. Get me the fuck out of here! Went north on I 93 to Lincoln; made eye contact with a black bear that was running on the side of the highway. And I found my way to Mount Washington, where I paid my $15 admission for a rare opportunity: THE MOUNTAIN WAS MOTORCYCLES ONLY. NO CARS, NO TRUCKS…MOTORCYCLES ONLY. This is a spectacular and dangerous mountain road, and the weather was beautiful and clear. The road is narrow and partially dirt above the tree line. There were steep drop offs, narrow, tight curves, and no guard rail. It was first and second gear all the way up. So I took a few pictures at the top and I rode back down, testing my bike on the sharp curves, testing the brakes, whipping her a little hard, downshifting, until I got behind some dude on an older bike with mechanical brakes, going too slow, until he gave me some room to get by, and I rolled on down the mountain, adrenalin energized, and I stopped in Gorham, to cool my brakes. They had those big 16 oz. PBR’s at Mr. Pizza, and whole fried clams, and French fries.

Next morning, 43 degrees in Lincoln, checking out of the hotel, I saw the Canadian dude from the next room, having trouble with his bike. He had an ’08 Roadglide, similar to mine, and his key was stuck in the ignition switch, and the switch was stuck in “LOCK.” He tried getting at the “pin” underneath, with almost every tool on my Leatherman, to no avail. His pretty French wife was noticeably worried, and there was talk about calling a tow truck. “Don’t,” I said. I showed the dude the pliers on the Leatherman, and said, “grip it down low.” He was afraid of breaking off the key, but tried it anyway. AND, VOILA! THE KEY WAS FREE! And I got a nice big hug from French wife. Ooo-la-la.