Laconia New Hampshire - RIDE FROM HELL

[Bubba]

It was a beautiful morning, but the weather man said it was going to be a hot one, even for June.

Rolled by my friend Freds house about 6:30. Fred was about 60 years old and the guy who got me started in biking many a moon ago. Fred had been riding for over 30 years and never had a mishap. He and his son had ridden two up on a 550 cc Suzuki to Canada one year. Talk about your 'sucker for punishment'!

We finally hooked up with the rest of the posse about 7 o'clock and started towards the 'big apple', up the New Jersey Turnpike. As some of the bikes didn't carry large tanks, we stopped just south of the N.Y. border to refuel.

After this brief stop the 'marathon' began. We headed into Fort Lee N.J. towards the George Washington Bridge.

Let me stop here for a second. If there is any way you can avoid this route, do so. Now, I've been riding a few years but I wouldn't wish this route on my worst enemy. Talk about scaring the 'bejesus' out of you.
Once you have crossed the bridge, you are riding on the 'Cross Bronx Expwy'. The 'Cross Bronx Expwy', if you've never been there, consists of two lanes going each way through a large trench cut through the city. The walls have to be about 70 feet high. Traffic is bumper to bumper all doing 60 mph. At the sides there are 'on ramps' that you know nothing about until out of this wall, there appears a car coming at you from the right.

Once we were into this 'trench of hell', I don't remember much until we finally got onto Rt. 95 heading for the Connecticut Turnpike. One thing I do remember was a small flat bed trailer with someone’s bedroom stacked on it. Really looked dangerous. Not a tiedown to be seen.
I was glad when we got passed that.

We were finally heading up RT.95 north, but the traffic hadn't let up. At least we were all seasoned riders so safety came first, riding in two staggered rows.

All of a sudden, I see the lead bikes veering to the left and right. Out of instinct, I did the same just as a dresser of drawers came spinning by me in the middle of my lane. Apparently the bozo with the flat bed trailer had gotten by us somewhere along the way.

We all got by, except my friend Fred. Fred was riding two up with his wife at the back of the pack and didn't see what was coming up. He thought it was safer back there. Fred rode a large Moto Guzi full dresser that isn't very maneuverable to begin with.

Well Fred went right through the center of the dresser sending splinters, Fred and his wife every which way. I had pulled to the side of the road and started heading along the shoulder not really wanting to see what I might see.

When I reached Fred and his wife, there was a wall of cars and tractor trailers across the turn pike all stopped. Fred was trying to help his wife. I went over picked her up and headed to the side of the road.
After a while the State Police showed up. Now the majority of 'staties' I have encountered were very courteous and helpful, but this bozo was neither. He insisted we get off the highway, he wouldn't call for medical help and just pointed out a diner at the side of the pike where we could make any calls we needed to make and then he took off. What a S.O.B.!
Well we got Fred, his wife and his bike off the road. To make a long story short, Fred had a concussion, his wife broke her ankle, and his bike was a mess.

Fred insisted he was OK to drive back to Jersey, so after getting them both medical attention, we got them situated in a motel, we rented a U-Haul and put his bike in.

We lost about six hours with the accident. We had a long way to go. Once we were sure Fred was OK, we were off again.

No one told me it gets cold in Vermont at night in June. The sun had gone down and we were trying to make up for lost time so we wouldn't loose our motel reservations. After freezing my butt off for about two hours, it dawned on me I had been resting my back on my coat for
most of the trip.
The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful. The girls weren't showing anything at Weirs Beach that year. A lot of 'manly' young ladies. It was to damn cold to ride up Mount Washington, those that did came back looking like popcycles, but the ride through the New Hampshire back roads was beautiful. We never did make it to the race at Laconia. I'd
rather ride anyway.

Sunday morning we woke to a beautiful torrential down poor. Perfect for riding 350 miles back to New Jersey. Rained all the way down the New York Thruway.

I wouldn't have wished this trip on anyone. Needless to say, I don't ride with these guys any longer. It was the 'trip from hell'.
By the way, Fred has had a lot of health problems after that trip. He hasn't been the same since and he hasn't ridden since. His wife is doing fine.

If you are planning to go to Laconia, be sure to make reservations in advance and plan your trip well. Avoid the GW Bridge and the 'trench of death'. Take the Tappen Zee Bridge.

It may be the longer way to go, but it sure is the safer way to go.
I'm sure it could be and has been a very pleasant ride for many, but I wouldn't know because I've never gone back.

[CentralOzzy]

I don't blame ya, not going back there, What a Trip!

It sounds like Fred has lost his confidence? Do you have any plans on how you may help him back on his bike again? Assuming he still has one.

[Bubba]

Just ran into Fred last weekend. He still has the Guzzi but is going to sell it. He's no kid anymore (got to be in his 70s) and still has continuing health problems. I think he's taken his last ride.

[CentralOzzy]

Yeah that's fair enough.....but Sad as well.

[sapaul]

Sorry to hear about Fred and his wife, but thanks for the post. I will probably never be out that way but I hope you get to someone who will avoid what you went through.