Brooklyn to Boston: My first east coast bike trip.

A freezing overnight ride from Brooklyn to Boston, over rough patchy highway roads that lacked a good winter pave, through dark two-lane lonely backwoods country roads, and many a stop for heat and coffee; 10 hours later, and all toll roads avoided, I show up cold, hungry, and tired meandering at 4:30am in front of my friends house, who's number I couldn't see on the door.  He runs out to greet me.  It was his birthday the day I had left Brooklyn, and it was his sisters birthday, the morning I showed up.  Nonetheless, I was there for the festivities and a good long challenging ride.   I needed to sleep most of the day, even though I was awake at 10:45am, wondering how I was going to stay awake.  I convince myself that getting out of bed is a good idea, and I head downstairs to a wonderful aroma and the perfect breakfast made by Matteo's mom: coffee, two eggs over-easy, bagel toasted, creamcheese and turkey bacon.  Feeling energized, we rode two-up on my bike around the small peninsula town of Winthrop, MA, taking in the history of his family lineage and roots:  grandmas house over here, grandpas house over there, cousins, uncles, and relatives that are stacked thick in the fibers of an early first American settler town, and I feel like I understand my friend a whole lot more.  I say "lets go to a pub!"  and he says "well actually this is a dry town." My mouth goes dry at the words.  But then he follows up with, "however, we do hold the record for the town with the most liquor stores in a square mile."  Roots.  I make a prohibition joke, and we head to the cemetery.

first stop, 1.5 hours into trip: I stop for warmth and food.

Here she sits outside my diner window. 

the 9th hour, It was too cold, and rough, and I mustered a photo of the warm tunnel into boston.

Breakfast at Matteo's house!

Morning after, my bike comes out for some sun.

I'm on the East Coast!!!! 

(glamour shot, but really I'm just dead tired inside.)

I found a riding buddy!

Deer Island, self-explanatory captioning.

A sweet one-lane road through a cemetery.

A Bostonian Shore.

A cool grand old ramshackle.

I still like the photos my camera can't focus for.

probably the truest bumper sticker ever.

I decided to run on down to Providence, cause I've only heard about it, and wondered if I'd ever go.

A beautiful farmhouse along the 6 east in Rhode Island, on my way to Connecticut.

13 colonies on that roof.

Someone is fishing in the middle of that lake.

I was trying to find the tourist shop that was gonna sell me a Killingly shirt.

Cemetery in Pomfret, CT

Visiting a beautiful property, spoken for the wealthy boarding students at Pomfret School.

I only stopped cause it was a gorgeous and curious campus. 

way more photos on my phone, I have yet to upload.

Something new.

I'm the only person in the restaurant that doesn't speak Polish.  The walls were decorated by a 5 year olds Easter art class, and the furnishings were donations from a 1970's homeless shelter. I pay $1.50 for a soda.  They don't have any more meatloaf, so I order the roast beef dinner, with mashed potatoes, and a side of 3 different variations of cabbage salad.  I am accompanied by my reflection on any one of the million mirrors that wrap around the dining area along the upper half of the walls. 

    I immediately miss the Polish restaurant down the street, with the cozy atmosphere and deer heads on the wall; the more affordable entrées and the readily available supply of meatloaf, and beautiful presentation. 

   But this new place, well, nothing quite reinforces what you already love, other than something new eliminating itself as its competition. 

I ask the waitress how to say hello.  She replies: "chinobre," at least that's How it sounded.   I tell her the roast beef is delicious.  I sit here for almost 2 hours, chewing and typing. And I'm looking forward to a nap, when I get home.