Day 9 - Haverford PA to Boston MA

Total miles: 379

Route: too complicated to list

By the numbers:
FF1 - the license plate of the Boston Fire Chief.
31 - the cost of parking my motorcycle overnight in Boston
45 - wait in minutes to get into any bar or restaurant near Fenway

I slept in a bit this morning and I'm glad I did. It looked cold out but it was nice in Haverford. Tim, his Aunt and Uncle see me off and I hit the road with only coffee in my stomach.

I pass by Villanova and realize its colder than I thought. Thank God for heated vests. I'll just turn the knob up a little more. Hmmm - thay doesn't seem to do anything. Oh well, only one more day after this...

A buddy I used to work with at PayPal went to MIT and he made a number of recommendations for my route but, when I added them up, it was over 650 miles! I made a few adjustments and brought the total to ~375.

Northern PA is very pretty as I approached NY. But while it was sunny out, I noticed water on the road and fog in the distance. At least it wasn't rain. But I rode into the fog and the temp dropped like a rock. It became very clear that the lack of a heated vest would be a major problem despite the low mileage for the day.

I got a shiver and immediately looked for a place to grab some food and gas. Unfortunately, all I found in the aptly named twon Wind Gap was a McDonalds. But it sounded like an oasis of warmth at the moment.

After warming up I hit the road again with the New York stateline as my goal. As I ride, I convince myself that The Beach Boys are actually warming me up with their sunny lyrics. They were not. The road the GPS put me on way pretty but not fast. At least I got some good pics. Fortunately, my stubborness is an asset in this sort of situation and I made it to NY anyway.

With the sun gone, things went from bad to worse. Turns out that fog was actually rain and I was riding straight into it. Damn that heated vest!

I finally make it to CT and realize I still have a long way to go. Time for another stop at an East Coast joint - Dunkin Donuts. The coffee is good.

Alone I-95 the views are picture purfect. The more North I rode, the more the colors had changed. Add to that some lakes and rivers and my pics are unbelievable.As I approach Boston, I stop one last time to warm up and hit the road again.

I ride into Boston and and wonder if there's a Sox game tonight. No traffic so I must be OK. I ride past my second well known college of the day - MIT.

Boston is gorgeous. I was told to take an earlier exit to ride through the area and I'm glad I did. The buildings and trees are stunning - unlike anything I've seen before. Its proabably most similar to older, nicer parts of SF like Nob Hill or Russian Hill. And equally expensive from what I'm told.

I arrive at my hotel and gasp when I learn that parking will cost $31 for the night. Yikes.

I head out after a shower to run an errand for a friend (drop off some pics at a local bar for some regulars). As soon as I get in the cab I realize there is a game and this will not be a short (or cheap) cab ride. We wander through traffic as best we could and we end up next to a black goverment sedan with the a custom fire fighter license plate that reads "FF 1". The ruddy Irish man next to us was the fire captain for all of Boston. We exchanged feigned smiles as the light turned green and we zoomed off to sit in more traffic.

I could see Fenway in the distance and our cab came to a stop gridlocked 30 before the game. I pay the total and hop our a few blocks before and wandered into complete chaos. The streets were swarmed with Red Sox fans. I contempated going to the game but the only tickets left were from scalpers and they wanted $150 each.

I hit the bar as intended and drop off "the package" and quickly get out of the Fenway area. The wait at any restaurant was 45 minutes or more. I wandered around and happened to stumble onto Cross Roads Irish bar -- one of the places my buddy had recommended. The bar was practically deserted and I saddled up to the bar and tried a local brew.

The place quickly filled up and two guys sat next to me and chatted about phones. I couldn't help but chime in with a few key points and they laughed. Jeff and Jeremy were from Minesota and Jeff was getting married next weekend. His fiancee is from Boston and Jeremy will be his best man. We chatted about my trip, their jobs, and the game on the big screen directly in front of us as I tried not to stare at the barkeep - she was cute.

One nacho plate and a few beers later I'm off to Cheers for another beer. I meet two Russian women on vacation. You couldn't help but notice one of them - a red, skin tight dress way above the knee, knee high zebra striped boots, and hair as red as katsup. What a look. Fortunately, Boston seems to have lot of good looking women so this didn't phase me.

Exhausted and full of beer, I wander back to the hotel to get some sleep. I want to get up a bit early and checkout Harvard Square...