We arrived at the border and got in line behind the cars and trucks. When it was our turn, we had to answer the routine questions and then park the bike over on the side.They wanted to talk some more with Karen Margrethe. They were all very nice at the border.Much more than we expected.On the other hand, it couldn´t be worse than our last attempt in 2005. After a short half hour, they wished us a pleasant journey and gave both Km and my bike a three month permit.At 16:00 we reached the city of Bangor in the state of Maine. Found a Travelodge motel for 45 bucks with internet if we sat in the front lobby. We were wet and tired once again so we took the room .I noticed the last part of the day that my front brakes were scratching every time I used them. With a closer look, it was new brake pads I needed.Sat in the lobby and searched the net for a Honda dealer nearby. There was one that was open at 9 in the morning about 20kms from here. I would be there when they opened.
Walked in to Friend and Friend Motorcycles in Stillwater and after an short 2 hours, we were on the road again. What a relief that was.Something was completely wrong.It wasn´t raining.We headed down I-95 towards Dunellen New Jersey.It was a two day drive but we´d drive as long as we could. At a gas station along the way, we met an American named Keith from Massachusetts. We sat down and talked about where we were headed. He wasn´t impressed about our destination. We explained the part about family living there so it seemed to go over. All of a sudden, this big smiling guy comes through the door and looks at us and asks… "Hey, you guys come from Denmark"Wow, so nice to meet you he says. It's the brotherhood Man he says with a big smile on his face. My name is Mike.He was a native Indian traveling with Mary Lou. Mary Lou was his Harley Davidson parked out at the gas pump. Keith asked him what's leaking from the bike. His answer was, She´s just marking her territory.Keith was just joking with him.Mike invited us to a three day drinking and music festival just outside of New York. It was a Harley Davidson event. I said that I was afraid they might want to burn my bike. He promised me it wouldn´t but they probably will burn a bike.We thanked him for the invite but we had to move on.Keith gave us some good roads to follow and would accompany us as far as he was going. At the first pay toll we came to, we pilled up to the booth and the man said its been taken care ofby the ather man on the bike. Wow, american hospitality at its best. When we reached there where he lives, he insisted we tank up on his credit card (because of the discount) and then gave us a special Quebec beer he wanted us to try. It wouldn´t take any money for it and said Welcome to America. Real nice guy. We´ve invited him and his girlfriend to Denmark if they´re in the neibourhood. We must admit the everyone was telling us that as soon as you get south of the border, the friendliness of people will disappear. Haven´t experienced that yet. Quite the contrary. We´ve met so many nice Americans so far. We said our goodbyes with Keith and eventually found a quaint little Motel in the town of Sturbridge called the Scottish Inn. Last stop before Dunellen, New Jersey.
Eight thirty in the morning came quick enough and we were packing again. Plotted in Inger Ladegaards address (Km´s Cousin)in on the Gps which said there was a 4hr drive to Dunellen. We put our rain stuff on to be on the safe side. You are only allowed to stop on the highways here if it´s an emergency. We phoned Inger and said we´d be there around 5pm. This allowed for stops along the way if we felt like it.The gps led us very near the city of New York and right into the longest traffic jam trying to get over the George Washington Bridge. To make things even worse, the sun came out and it was 30 degrees. Why I`m wearing underwear, jogging pants, blue jean shorts, leather overalls and rubber rain pants in this kind of weather, I´ll never know, but I was. My eggs felt like they were in an incubator. It seemed to take forever to get over the bridge but we did.That had to be the heaviest traffic we have met on this trip so far. It sometimes got a little hairy with transport trucks passing us on the highway doing 120kms/hr.It was so nice to pull into the peaceful town of Dunellen and into the driveway at Km´s cousin Inger. The garage was open and the car was gone. We decided to unpack and wait for her arrival. To our surprise, she was home and had moved the car to the road so we could drive right in. The eagle had landed in Dunellen, New Jersey, approximately 30kms from The Big Apple.