I used to be pretty into MotoGP motorcycle racing, but aside from naturally being a fan of Jorge Lorenzo, and wondering how many more years Rossi has left, I really haven’t been paying much attention in recent years.  However, after my harrowing experience getting up and down Mount Washington, I thought it might be nice to be a spectator for a while, so went down to the New Hampshire Motor Speedway in Loudon for the fourth weekend of the Loudon Road Racing Series.  There’s something about the quick changes of lead, and the purity of racing what’s essentially a motor with a seat on it, that I really find exciting.

Now, every second person in New Hampshire seems to ride a motorcycle, and there are no helmet laws over age 18, so I thought that there would be lots of spectators at the races and got there early.  As it turned out, there were very few spectators, and I got there very early — the actual racing didn’t start until 10:30 am, and I was there at 8 am when the practice sessions were starting.  But in my usual lucky way this turned to my advantage, because they mistakenly gave me an all access pass at the ticket counter, and directed me to park in the infield next to the main garages.  As the day went on I realized that I was the only spectator who was wandering freely into the garages to chat to the friendly competitors and their crews, as well as sitting in the stands, and the FJ was certainly the only vehicle in the infield with no real reason to be there!  I tried to park where I wouldn’t be in the way — that’s the FJ slightly left of center.

I was amazed to see all the empty stands, because last time I was here, in my mid twenties, having ridden over from central NY for the weekend with friends, the stands were completely full!  I walked a lot during the day, watching from the infield, the stands, and at different turns.  I wasn’t sure of the schedule at first, but as usual everyone was very friendly and happy to help me.  The marshals on turn one seemed a bit bored in the gap between the practice laps and the races, and they called me over to talk when they saw me walking by.  I told them my story, and they filled me in on the schedule and where the best viewing spots were.  Thanks guys, you’re awesome!

There was one race of what were called Legends Cars, which I had never heard of before.  They seem to be small purpose built cars powered by motorcycle engines, and designed to look like classics from the 30s and 40s.  They’re small enough to bob and weave around each other on the track, but probably more accessible than motorcycles to many people.  Still, I like the bikes better.  This was the view from the base of the stands as one of the races started.  There was a fantastic battle in this one, with the first two places being certain from the first lap, but third place changing hands multiple times between three bikes — even though I don’t know any of them, it was so exciting to watch really skilled riders!

I eventually ended up on turn six, and spent most of my time there.  It seemed to be the spot of choice for many of the riders’ families, and I ended up sitting next to a very nice lady who’s husband was competing, and she filled me in on the status of the competition and all the riders she knew, which seemed to be a lot!  This was one of the best races of the day, the “Dash for the Cash” for experienced midweight Grand Prix bikes — they also had an amateur Dash.

I really love the sound of the bikes all together, especially at the start, or when they’re accelerating out of a turn, as they are above.  All that growling can give me shivers!  They really had a full day, finishing off some races that had been deferred from yesterday because of lightening, and also all the scheduled races.  Late in the day, after saying goodbye to my marshal buddies, I headed west again in the FJ through Vermont.

The Green Mountains of Vermont are beautiful, very green, though perhaps slightly less grand than the White Mountains in New Hampshire.  I used to ski in Vermont, so enjoyed hanging out in Killington again, even in the off season.  I suspect I’ll have to get back here again in the winter!

I pushed on, however, hoping to make it to another friend’s house by the evening, although I did take a slightly longer route in order to cross the southern end of Lake Champlain to New York State on the Ticonderoga Ferry.  Fort Ticonderoga, built in 1755 by the French to guard the southern end of the lake, is located on the NY side, but was unfortunately closed at the time I crossed.  The ferry has been in operation here since 1823, and is still decidedly old school.  As you can see in the picture below, you still call the ferry by raising a red board with a rope.

The ferry can hold about a dozen cars at a time, and there were four cars and five motorcycles on my crossing.  It’s not a long ride, with a round trip taking about 15 minutes, but I think the FJ enjoyed the break as much as I did.  By the way,  I’ve been mentally calling the FJ my “Baby Blue,” so I think I might stick with that name!

Despite the interference of my misguided GPS, I eventually made it to my friends’ house.  Franz and Magali are away at the moment because, unlike myself, they still have jobs, but I was greeted by this little bit of muskrat love.

I haven’t really decided what I’ll be doing for the next few days, but I’m in no hurry to resolve that either.  Knowing that I’ll wake up in the morning in the welcoming home of my oldest friends, with this for a view as I drink my coffee, is enough for now.