The G.U.N.S.E. – Departure

After months of waiting, planning and more waiting, the countdown clocks all reached zero, and June 10^th, the official Expedition kickoff day, finally arrived. Everybody flew from their respective homes and assembled in the Kingdom of Rhode Island, and the Expedition was finally underway. Mother Nature, whose hatred of motorcycles inspired me to name Stormbringer and Rain Cloud Follows, was once again showing her contempt for the Expedition. Bright blue skies and warm sunshine mocked me as I loaded my gear up for the ten day ride, as if to say, “ Wouldn’t weather this nice be lovely for your whole trip? Too bad for you!”

With a very ambitious plan, a lot of ground to cover, and only ten days available, the Expedition was forced to start off on the highway. Highways are useful for one thing, getting from place A to place B as quickly and scenery free as possible. Boring, but necessary. We slogged our way north on Route 95. The most interesting thing to happen on that first day was lunch.

Finally in Maine, we turned off the superslab for coastal Route One. We meandered through some of Vacationland’s more picturesque scenery. In Rockport, we started looking for a place to stay for our first night of the Expedition. I passed up motel after motel, looking for that perfect spot. Finally, I saw the sign I was looking for, ‘Oakland Seashore Motel and Cabins’ and turned down the dirt path to see what we’d found.

What we’d found at the end of the dirt road was described by the girl at the front desk as a ‘Diamond in the Rough.’

The cabins

The View

This little diamond in the rough, a bargain at $100 a night, really raised the bar for the rest of the trip. After looking around a while, Abi commented, “This place sucks. I hope I don’t have to hear that noise (the ocean waves crashing on the rocks) all night.” I took that to mean he was happy with our first night’s find.

When traveling on my own itinerary, I try hard to not stay in chain hotels, or eat in chain restaurants. Working for the WWE, we spend approximately 120 nights a year in a Hyatt, Marriot or other sterile, soulless, vacuum-packed mega-chain. So, for a change, I look for little, soulful Mom and Pop places where I can park right out front and carry all my girlfriend’s many bags right in the front door, no parking garages, valets, stairs or elevators involved. That, or an incredible cliffside cabin overlooking the ocean will do in a pinch.

The first night of the Expedition ended with our traditional toast, a shot of The Macallan raised to the ‘Best Day Ever!’

The next installment of the Great Unsponsored Nova Scotia Expedition can be found here.