My obsession with the White Mountains and Kancamagus . Expressway in New Hampshire started almost a year ago when I hit the road to fame. I tested the BMW K 1600 BEGINS on an end-of-season trip on 100 Vermont StreetI was just brushing my teeth with all the Subarus, when I saw a guy on the side of the road standing atop an aged Harley, waving.
Curiosity did the best for me, so I turned the bagger around to meet Eric, a local mechanic, who said he was standing on his bike urging people to stop. and donated to a friend and his wife who had a motorcycle accident. .
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Turns out this is Stanley Lynde and his wife, Laura, owners of Lynde Motorsports in Brattleboro, Vermont. There was an official GoFundMe website at the time, but Eric “didn’t use the internet”.
And his method seemed to work, with several people dropping by as we chatted, offering donations and well wishes. Eric, a veteran motorcyclist and builder who can no longer go out for big rides, was emotional about the situation. When I asked him if there was anything I could do other than donate, he quickly said yes, I can ride. Specifically, he asked me to go up the White Mountains and take his favorite road, the Kancamagus Highway, in honor of the Lyndes.
And I tried. With all my heart. But a big storm blew the next day, the only free day I had before I dropped my bike and flew home. Eric, his friends, and the street with its odd-sounding name stuck in my mind all winter.
COMMUNITY, NOT A CLUB
Late next summer, I was finally able to return to the Northeast, this time to check out the high mileage of the BMW. R 1200 RT. Kancamagus, aka Kanc (technically QL 112), tops my list of trails to explore.
I enlisted the help of Ed Conde, New England Riders (NER, newenglandriders.org), an impressively large group (over 14,000 Facebook) is defined as “a community of motorcyclists that organizes themselves to ride and have fun with other riders,” rather than a club, which would include things like fees, rules, and regulations. rules and officers.
Now, I’m a solo rider by nature, but after getting to know Ed and his wife, Debbie, online, I had the pleasure of meeting them and a small group of NER riders to track Ed. “Best of the White Mountains” track, a 202-mile double loop that departs from Gorham, New Hampshire.
It was a Friday morning in September when I left Gorham with seven strangers, followed the Androscoggin River east on US Route 2, then crossed Maine to head south on State Route 113. This countryside is where the party begins, with the road beginning to curve and roll as it ascends into the White Mountain National Forest.
It was immediately obvious that this group could ride. On the way to the rendezvous point, I thought, “Okay, be patient, this can be a long day, be on the lookout…” – all the things one should remember when joining an unknown group of riders. determined. When we stopped at Evans Notch for a break, I learned these NER members had good skills because most had invested in training and day tracking, many under the guidance of Ken Condon, author of the Riding in the Zone.
MAJOR PLANNER
The White Mountains, a roughly 90-mile stretch of the much larger Appalachian Range, were created by the westward movement of the North American plate more than 100 million years ago, long before the glaciers of the Ice Age covered cover them, then withdraw, smooth. edges into the circular notches and disc-shaped grooves we see today.
Our group arrived too early for the area’s famous fall colors, which suited these passionate riders as it meant light traffic as we flowed down State Road 113. In Fryeburg, we followed Ed on a few quick turns to Storm Mountain Road, a narrow Pass Road of a back road that never ceases to rise and fall, through wooded hills, twisting just enough to lift high feeling.
I swear I didn’t tell Ed that I was obsessed with street pancakes; it just so happens this group feels the same. Polly’s addiction is real, and I’m happy to live thousands of miles away. Most of us use a pancake “sampler,” where you place three short stacks (yes, for each person!), mix and match different batters and mixtures.
At this point, I realized that Ed Conde was more than just a nice guy with some ideas of good roads. Ed is a provider of really nice paths, gems that you simply won’t find and connect with alone. And as I will learn over time, his skills are not limited to cataloging high-end runway yarns; Ed tailors all the best views, bathroom stops and even restaurants.
It’s a secret a local racer might know, but Ed isn’t a New Hampshire local. He and Debbie live near Boston and their shared passion is touring by bike – he’s on a Honda ST1300 and she’s on a Suzuki V-Strom 650 – discovering new states and creating databases of the best motorcycle roads, many of them incorporated into day trips. Ed shares these elaborate ride plans and GPX routes, which stretch from Nova Scotia all the way to Alabama and Georgia, on the NER website.
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He says that’s how they give back to the community for all the joy and precious memories that motorcycling has brought into their lives.
BINDING RELATIONSHIP
After conquering Hurricane Mountain Road, we headed west on US Route 302, taking time for a photo stop at the stunning Cathedral Ledge lookout point in Echo Lake State Park, before continuing on to Bear Notch Road , another interesting winding road with three points worth seeing.
Finally, in the foreground, the road sign I had envisioned for almost a year: State Route 112, the famous Kancamagus.
While no one who was with me that day knew the reasoning behind my request to ride on this particular highway, I’m sure they would be equally motivated as Eric stood on his old Harley his, feeling helpless about his friend’s fate.
Since that chance encounter, I know that Laura survived her injuries, but sadly, Stanley did not. I carried his whole family on my lap as I rode on the Kanc.
PANCAKES FOR LUNCH
True to Eric’s promise, the view from 112th Street was brilliant. The highway is well kept and winding, chasing the Swift River like a blackbird gliding past a hawk.
When we stopped at Pemigewasset Overlook, everyone was very happy, laughing and telling stories. I don’t even stop to wonder how the strangers I met just hours ago feel like old friends. We all feel it, the shared experience now instantly connects riders whenever and wherever we meet.
Unexpectedly, the ride only continued to get better as the days passed. Departing Kanc, we reunite with 302nd Street and head east to Bath, where you’ll find The Brick Store, America’s oldest continuously operating general store. The market is flanked by a popular ice cream parlor, but we went to Polly’s Pancake Parlor on 117th Street for an afternoon treat of pies and bacon.
From Polly’s we headed east to Franconia and followed US routes 3 and 302 to link alpine lakes and waterfalls, crossing our westbound route around Bartlett. There’s a lot to see and do on this one, but we’ve kept an eager clip so we can start the Mount Washington Motorway, the bend in Ed’s “Best of the White Mountains” ride , before the toll road cutting time is 5 pm
A Slip of the Sun
Mount Washington (6,288 ft) is the most prominent peak west of Mississippi and the tallest mountain in the Northeast, but what’s really neat about it is the path that takes you to the top. It’s only 7.6 miles long, but man, the view is forever. The drop can also rock some, although the mountain is well controlled by low speed limits and heavy traffic.
We reached the top with just enough time to check out the museum and viewing areas. This windswept peak is also where I say goodbye to my new friends, as we will head in different directions at the base of the mountain.
After capturing an action scene or two in the group halfway up the now-shaded northeast slope of the mountain, parked trucks pulled up, urging strays like me toward the gate. On a whim, I asked if I could go back – “super fast” – to photograph the empty street.
I was overrated when these guys said for sure, I might have 20 minutes or so for them to get the rest of the tourists away from the lower lookout points.
And so began one of the most outstanding experiences of my 36 years of riding. I’ve got the top half of Mount Washington to myself. Its Cars Road, which had been congested an hour before, was now empty.
And I’m proud to say that I didn’t run up and down the famous toll road like I did in the past. Instead, I focused every bit of energy on immersing myself in a landscape that looked like a slice of heaven.
By this point, my White Mountains trip had become a New England day trip report. It reminds me that I am part of one big family, forever. Show me that true friends can be old, or new, or just in your heart.
No matter how far we roam, there will be other riders who make us feel at home.
