The Home Stretch

The next morning is a Sunday, and the Pats and Red Sox are both playing. I leave Providence in the late morning on my way to Medford to see some college friends. As I drive by Foxboro I can see a blimp in the air covering the Pats game. Taking 93 through Boston I go through the O’Neill Tunnel and then over that really cool bridge. The tunnel is great because, as I have said earlier, it is beautiful to watch the lights reflect and spread off of my motorcycle’s chrome, but also because it is warm down there, and a real nice little respite from the cold air at sixty-five miles per hour above ground. I make it to Medford, but I botch the end part with the fine-tuned directions and end up somewhere near Mike and Matty but not exactly sure how to get there. Funny enough, I recognize where I am though, because I am by the Tufts athletic building, which I remember passing by sometimes when I was visiting my cousin here. When I get some directions, I find the place in a few minutes and see Dave Dillon is there too so it turns out to be a real party, especially when a boatload of food arrives and the Pats and the Red Sox both dominate. I consider staying here tonight and meeting some Utah friends in Boston tomorrow morning and heading back home in the afternoon, but I decide to take off tonight and meet my Utah friends later in the week. I get on as night is falling, and fill up my tank before I jump on the highway. The gas station attendant has an accent, somewhere in Eastern Europe, I guess, and is so impressed and interested in my trip that I can’t get away until another car happens to pull in. I have met a whole bunch of people randomly that are really interested in what I am doing which I think is great, and hopefully even one of them will get so pumped up on it that he’ll go out and do it on his own.
It’s a simple trip up 93, onto 95, and off in Seabrook, taking the more scenic route back to Exeter as opposed to going through the tolls and down 101. It’s chilly for sure, and for a minute it begins to rain lightly so I pull over under a bridge to put my rain suit on. The rain pretty much stops after that, but I keep it on for warmth, and I don’t feel like stopping again either. I take the back roads through Kensington and in into Exeter. I pull over by the skate park and shine my light on it, and see that it is completely redone. I continue up Court Street, past the PEA gym, and past the Rec Office and down South Street where, as I approach my house, I can see my parents sitting out on the porch with blankets wrapped around them, waiting for me in the yellow porch light. I pull in between their two cars and put my kick stand down on the stone patio bricks just past the pavement, and that is it.