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Has anyone else noticed that there are only a couple of weeks left until Christmas?

I might have started to panic a bit lately when I realized how quickly time was flying by, but I think I’m okay again, at least for now. A day of shopping on Saturday helped me get caught up — well at least it made me feel like I was sort of caught up. Then on Sunday, we decided to put up our outdoor lights.

As you can see, Jake was a big help with that. Our curious Cairn terrier had to see what we were doing when we were testing the lights before taking them outside and he ended up all wrapped up in them. Thank goodness they’re LEDs so they don’t get hot at all. You can see how thrilled he was that I decided to take his photo before I helped him unwind himself too.

I guess this means it’s time to fully admit that there won’t be any more riding in 2010. That’s such a sad thought. It’s one thing to put stabilizer in the tanks — you can always take the bikes out on a warm day and buy more stabilizer. But when December rolls around it’s pretty much time to take out the batteries, clean and polish the bikes and tuck them under their covers for the winter. Hurrumph!

The only thing left to do, really, is wonder what “bikey” things might find their way under the Christmas tree this year. I have a few ideas and Steve wouldn’t be Steve if he wasn’t up to some holiday surprise or another. Hmmmm, I wonder what it is?
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When you ride around on a motorcycle, every now and then you stumble across something or some place wonderful.

People probably come across the same things and places if they spend time just driving around in cars too, it just seems like we never do that. At least for Steve and I, four-wheeled vehicles are about getting where you need to go, whereas the bikes are about going anywhere you feel like going.

So it was that we stumbled across Bath, New Hampshire, while on our trip to New England this summer. We had spent a few days visiting and riding with our friends Dennis and Heather using North Conway as our base, then we decided to head to Vermont for a few days. Dennis chose the route because they were more familiar with that area than we were. In fact, Steve and I had never been to Vermont before.

It was about midday when we arrived in Bath and, I confess, I was absolutely delighted with it. Bath is a small town nestled between the Green and White Mountains. We stopped at its centre near a church and the Brick Store, which purports to be the oldest continuously operating general store in the U.S. The smell of smoke wafted through the air — the store has its own smokehouse — and we all soon found ourselves sitting outside on a verandah overlooking the street eating ice cream. (I, of course, shared with Jake.) There was a bus tour from a seniors complex in town and we spent some time chatting with people about New Hampshire, motorcycles and our motorcycle-riding Cairn.

The Ammonoosuc River runs behind the store and I’d caught a glimpse of the Bath covered bridge when we pulled into town. I soon convinced everyone that we should take turns riding across the bridge and back. I’d never ridden my bike through a covered bridge, so Steve and Dennis obliged. (I think they might have just been humouring me, but I really didn’t care.)

Jake wasn’t so happy about the riding through the bridge part because bikes kept going without him, but he soon figured out that we all came back. It’s possible he thought we were a little nuts, but I took him for a walk in the bridge and he liked that part well enough.

It really was a great stop. I really hope to sit on that verandah and eat ice cream again some time.

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Saturday was a wonderful and sad day — wonderful because we got to ride for the first time in weeks and sad, so sad, because it was probably our last ride of 2010.

Life has been a little complicated lately, plus we had deluges of rain, so we hadn’t been out on the bikes for a few weeks. Needless to say, when Steve asked Jake “Do you want to go for a ride, buddy?” our RoadDog was the first one to the door.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining and the air was amazingly warm for November. There were lots of bikes on the road, all of us riders waving to each other and exchanging sly smiles that seemed to say, “We’re cheating Mother Nature and we love it.”

Steve, Jake and I went from Bridgewater to New Germany, across to Parkdale and New Ross and back to Mahone Bay for our favourite Tims stop. (We could hardly take Jake for what was potentially his last ride of the season and not stop for a Timbit, now could we?) Then it was back to Bridgewater to gas up and put the stabilizer in the tanks, another little scoot around to make sure everything was flowing and home.

There’s something amazing about the feel of the air swooshing by your face and the bike underneath you as you lean into a corner and pull back out of it. It’s hard to explain to anyone who doesn’t ride, but I know other riders understand it. Maybe it’s what some people call freedom of the road, but it definitely makes you feel free and it’s wonderful, really wonderful.

I’m going to miss that for the next few months and I’m sure our RoadDog will too.

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Jake is not a happy dog. This rain is quite simply getting him down in the dumps.

It’s been raining for days now. In fact, it’s been raining for so long I can’t remember when it started raining. I just wish it would stop. And so does Jake.

I’m not one to complain too much about the weather. When you live in Nova Scotia, you take what you get. It’s part of living in this wonderful place. But c’mon, it’s been raining nonstop for days now.

Our RoadDog doesn’t like to get wet unless it’s by his own choice. I’ve written several times about how much he loves a bath — not. He loves to wade in shallow streams or along the edge of a pond or at a beach, but he chooses when he wants to do that and mostly only gets as wet as he wants to get. Apparently that’s not the same to him as water falling from the sky soaking into the hair on his head and back. At the risk of repeating myself, Jake has just not been a happy dog these past few days.

Our lovable Cairn goes outside long enough to do what he has to do. He kind of looks around at the pools of water all over our yard, looks at me with a forlorn expression that I think translates into “Will it ever stop so I can play again?” and then he trots back into the house. Most of the time he goes and sits by the wood stove trying to get warm and dry.

I feel bad for him. There have been no walks in the park. No rides on the motorcycles. Not even a game of ball in the yard. We’re playing with him inside, but as much as he loves that it’s just not enough.

I really hope this rain stops soon. We all need to get out to play.
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The chilling of the air temperature (yes we have to admit it even if we don’t want to) got me thinking about warmer days which reminded me about a place we visited while in New Hampshire this summer.

We were staying in North Conway when the waitress where we were having breakfast told us about Diana’s Bath, a place she told us she went regularly, although maybe not during the height of the summer tourist season. She assured us it was a short hike, well worth the effort when you arrived at your destination — a series of waterfalls with lots of wading pools, hence the name Diana’s Bath. And it was just outside town.

I don’t recall if it was that afternoon or the following day when, warm from a ride in the August heat, we decided to give it a try. Poor Jake was definitely feeling warm and we thought a dip at Diana’s might be just the thing to cool him off.

It wasn’t exactly what we expected, definitely less rustic and more tourist destination than we thought it would be, but still absolutely wonderful. There was a big parking lot with a pay-and-post toll, not so easy when you’re on motorcycles and anyone can take your tags, but we managed. Then we headed out along an easy, gravel walking trail for just over half a mile. The shady path meandered through the woods and we met lots of people, even families with strollers which is an indication of just how smooth the path was.

Jake, of course, loved it. It was a path and we let him lead. It was shady and cooler. He was a happy dog even before we reached the water.

And, wow, then there was the bath itself. If you looked beyond the dozens of tourists everywhere, it was absolutely breathtaking. Over centuries, the water has carved a series of pools out of the rock, creating a stunning place. I’m not great with estimating distances, but I’d guess it must stretch for about 200 yards, through a whole series of waterfalls and pools and ledges. With the summer sun shining off the wet rocks and the water, it was beautiful even with all the people. I can only imagine how fantastic it would be for the person lucky enough to get there all alone.

People were having so much fun that it was fun just to sit and watch them too. There were little kids splashing in the shallow parts and big kids jumping over and sliding down rocks. Mothers and fathers and grandparents were laughing and wading with children. There were a few groups of visitors who you could just tell had never experienced nature quite like it, either people from big cities or other parts of the world who had a sense of wonder and delight written all over their faces, particularly the younger ones.

Our RoadDog plunged right in and was soon scrambling over rocks and wading happily in shallow pools. He even found one ledge where he could stretch right out on his belly in the water, much to his doggy delight. And there were a few children who came along who petted him and played with him in the water. It was like a cool, wet doggy heaven for Jake.

Eventually, we convinced him it was time to go and he strolled back along the path to the bikes obviously content with his lot in life.

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