I have an all new appreciation for the New England area. It’s absolutely beautiful in the summer, maybe even enough to make winters there worth it. And although the accent didn’t fall kindly on my southern ears at first, I got used to it… I even find it somewhat endearing now.
My hosts in Kingston, RI were fantastic. They were beyond generous treating me to a dinner of authentic Rhode Island Chowder, Dough Boys, and Clam Cakes, and also a breakfast at the local donut shop, Honey Dew. We also shared some refreshing frozen lemonade at Del's. We took a walk on the beach that night, and I enjoyed their company along with the crisp ocean air. Oh, and my hosts were friends, of a friend, of a friend of my cousin’s. Great folks.
So then I was Boston-bound. I stayed with an awesome CouchSurfer in Arlington. He and I have a lot of common interests—he even told his parents he wanted to quit high school and study on his own, and did so, much like I did!
That evening we went to a Greek festival for dinner (see photo) and got to know each other. I then tagged along to a party with a bunch of my host’s friends from around the world. It was lots of fun… but the fun would soon come to an end.
I left the party early on my motorcycle because I had to get up early for my advanced motorcycle safety course. And about five minutes on the road, I saw the blue lights in my rear view mirrors. I pulled over, very glad to be completely sober but wondering what I could have done.
“Good evening sir, where you headed?” the officer asked.
“I’m going back to my friend’s house,” I explained.
“Where does he live?”
“Near Gray and Irving,” I told him.
“Well, you’re going the wrong direction. Irving’s back that way,” he said, motioning with his hand. “But can you tell me why you’re driving without a license plate?”
“I’m sorry?! Oh no, I had no idea,” I responded, showing my sincere distress but trying to make sure it didn’t seem contrived. “It must have been stolen or fallen off. I can give you my license and registration.”
“That would be good,” he said, matter-of-factly.
And it would have been good… except that I had left my registration in my saddlebags at the house. I was sure I was going to jail, but then I found my insurance card and in the end that was enough. He let me go.
But that was not the last cop I saw in Boston. Unfortunately.
The next morning on the way to my driving course at 8am, there was nobody on the road except for me. And a cop with a quota to fill. I saw him at a rotary (roundabout) and I entered it in front of him. Guess that was dumb, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying to avoid him. He followed me for a minute or so and then pulled me over. After 15 minutes checking my registration, he came back and gave me a $100 ticket for “not yielding.” When I deserve a ticket, I’ll own up to it. I don’t know if I have ever received a ticket that I didn’t realize I deserved. But this one was bogus… I think he had wasted 20 minutes and didn’t want to leave empty-handed.
So, now I was in the hole $100. Checking my rear-view mirror every ten seconds, and trying to think of an alternate route to camp since I might not be able to go through Canada.
At least I had something fun to do for the day. I really enjoyed doing a refresher on my motorcycle skills. I was able to smooth out some bad habits that I had developed and correct an error that I believe caused the spill I had on my bike a couple of months ago. I also got to develop my current skills, and had some serious fun working the cornering activities. I had never leaned so hard that I hit the foot pegs, but I did that a number of times on the course. Oh, and that’s totally safe, by the way. I managed the corners accurately and effectively.
I enjoyed the class and the guys I took it with. Everyone had a great positive attitude, and the instructors were great. And we had beautiful weather to top it off.
That night, my host took me out around Cambridge and showed me Harvard, and some touristy things. It was fun. I loved the city. We had dinner at a Vietnamese Restaurant, it was lots of fun.
The next morning I called up the Georgia DMV, and discovered that I could get a friend to pick up my new license plate. A cry for help on facebook was successful and a friend of mine went to the DMV and overnighted my new license plate to that friend of my cousin’s in Bitteford, ME. I got in touch with my CouchSurfing host in Portland, ME and he said it would be cool to stay two nights.
I had been pretty stressed and worried about the license plate thing, but now I had hope of a solution and I was on my way to Maine.
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