Some days you set out with a plan. Other days, you set out with a friend and let the road write the story.

Doug and I knocked out a quick 600-mile loop through New Hampshire and Vermont, beginning with a stop at the Speedbowl to try and meetup with Pat, “vroom old man” who had recently uncovered a Treasure Coin #89 at Weirs Beach that I planted over a year ago for first responders. Seeing the excitement from someone who found one of my hidden treasures reminds me why I keep planting them all over the country, 300 and growing!

We waited but he was on a demo ride, so I left a few keepsakes and will try to meet later. We rolled north through Laconia, home of 2026 Motorcycle Bike Week since 1923. For over a century, riders have converged on the Lakes Region, making it one of America’s oldest motorcycle rallies. We made a drive-by before stopping at Laconia Harley-Davidson in Meredith and then over to visit our friends at Legends Suspension. Like always, the Legends crew treated us like family, talking suspension and mile monsters stuff. Klockworkz, however, things were a bit a busy to say hello even though I rolled up to their tent like I owned the joint—but that’s ok.

From there, we went west and picked up Route 302, a road that traces old travel corridors through the White Mountains (White Mountain Harley Davidson). Once used by stagecoaches carrying travelers between Portland and the Green Mountains, today it remains one of New England’s classic riding roads. Passing through Crawford Notch and along the Saco River, it’s easy to see why generations have been drawn to these mountains.

Crossing into Vermont and picking up VT-104 toward Wilkins Harley-Davidson, we passed through tiny towns with some podunk gas stations. Bath, Vermont—chartered in 1763 and nestled along the CT river—felt like stepping back in time. We joked that some of those fuel pumps probably needed two bottles of HEET just to keep things flowing.

The region had been pounded by severe storms and tornado warnings the night before. Apparently Apple Maps felt we needed an adventure, because three gravel roads later—with 8-10% grades and washouts carved by the storms—we found ourselves bouncing big touring bikes through terrain better suited for dual sports. The divots were no joke, and every turn brought another “You’ve got to be kidding me!” moment. Thanks, Doug… or should I say thanks, Apple Maps!

Eventually we ripped our way back into Massachusetts, laughing about the detours. Six hundred miles, a little history, a few old roads – some gravel you definitely didn’t ask for and a good friend to make the miles memorable.