Whew. First full day of driving is behind us. Sean and I handled it like a pro – right around 400 miles once adding in the meanderings that took us down Rt 9, through Dalton and Pittsfield, and then across into Canaan, NY. The bikes handled great, we learned of the importance of earplugs (badly seated earplugs and and hour of loud wind made my ears ring for about half an hour) and eventually we crossed the border into Canada. The border guard wanted to know where I was born, where the bike was registered, the plate number, how long I was going to be in Cananda, etc., but never asked me for any ID. Maybe she felt bad because I didn’t know my plate number and had to get off to look.
Sean, who was 2 vehicles behind me, was asked the same questions, but did have to show his license. He didn’t know his plate number either, but just pulled forward a few feet so the border guard could look for herself.
Here is proof that we actually made it to Canada.
We spent half an hour oohing and aahing over the falls, but the touristy-ness was kinda boring, so after grabbing dinner (halfway good burgers at the Hard Rock Cafe) we went to find a place to sleep. Leaving the cafe we found it was raining, so getting a dry spot to sleep was key at this point.
We had been warned by an info booth staffer in a plaza on Route 90 that the motel prices on the Canadian side of the falls were outrageous, so Sean and I drove out of the tourist trap in search of a divey motel. A few blocks from the falls we found this lovely place – $45 a night for a 10×10 room with 2 beds, that didn’t smell too bad once we closed the bathroom door. Here is Sean in repose, resigning himself to the teeny tiny room.
This pic is taken from outside the door to the room.
As it turns out one of my bike bags isn’t waterproof – so the motel room is now hung with lots of things to dry.
I must say, it does improve the room!
Tomorrow – to Michigan.