We had an idea of where we would go after Vermont but nothing was for certain. We had met a man named Zee in New Hampshire at the Papa Wolf ride who invited us to an event. He actually handed Jerimiah a hand drawn flyer that said Old Iron Days Tractor Show and Motorcycle Rodeo. It had images of tractors and a "map" of some hand drawn roads. Zee told us he had plenty of landand we were welcome to camp there as long as we wanted. We looked Grafton up on the map and it wasn't far and was definitely on the way seeing we needed to head South. We were all about the "say YES" mentally thanks to Smallroom Collective so we said Hell Yeah! We had a vague idea of where to go and when we felt we were getting close we perked up and were looking in every drive and field off the road. We finally came to a huge open field with a Motorcycle and a small sign propped up on it saying Old Iron Days. This must be the place.
We pulled into an open field to find about 10 people posted up cooking out and shooting the shit. I will for sure say they were some characters. We finally found Zee swimming in the stream that ran along his property. He was happy to see us and suprised we made it. He told us to park anywhere and set us loose. Not much was going on, but people hanging out enjoying the beautiful day, but it was a free place to stay so we decided to stay for a night and see what happened. We set up the camper and started to meet everyone. This was the exact opposite of the papawolf crowd. It was maybe the crew we road with there in 30-40 years. Old timers are Jerimiahs bread and butter. He will migrate to any old man with a grey beard. They most likely have way better stories and are free of bullshit. He found two with Cone Shovels and we decided to take a ride to a place called Hippy Hill. The ride became a race which we weren't trying to win. So fast first place meant you lost your gas cap,which on the return ride we looked for but never found. We rode to a small bodega we had come to earlier looking for an ATM. We were told you could buy a beer from Dick the owner and walk across the street and drink it in public on a place called Hippy Hill. The store was small, filled with odds and ends, a couple dogs and Dick the owner. I laughed as a looked around to the store shirts they had for sale. One read 'If you don't know Hippy Hill you don't know Dick'. Apparently Dick had been incarcerated for some Magic Mushrooms earlier that year and the shirts were made to help with the cost. We chatted a bit and learned the history of the hill. Every year the members of that town get together to vote on being able to drink in public at Hippy Hill, so far no one is against it. We, mainly me learned you can't open your beer anywher outside you have to wait till your on hill. The hill consist of a few picnic tables,some older hippy folk,and some local kooks. We sat down to enjoy our beers and started to meet the crew posted up that day. We met Allen the mayor of Hippy Hill. He had great storied of travel and ofcourse what draws him to the hill. We also got to know the old timers we were ridin with John and Teardrop. After our beers we got back on the bikes and headed back to the party. A band had started to set up when we were leaving so we had something to get back to.
The night was full of music, local entertaiment (kooks), and good food. We drank and talked till the Full Moon was emersed in fog. We adventalluly made it back to the camperand our new friends John made campe under his bike next to the Folic.
The next morning we heard John start to pack up super early. Jerimiah woke and went to see him off and if it weren't for his voicemails every once and awhile I would think the man was a ghost. Because after he woke he rode into the fog until he was emeresed and all you could hear was his engine trailing off down the road.
We waited for the fog to pass and packed up and waited around for Zee to return from whatever morning adventure he was on so we could thank him and say goodbye. We made sure we had an idea of how to find him, seeing as he is one of those vauge older dudes that you never know where they live or what they do.
We had no idea of where we were going but started to head South. And as we passed Hippy Hill we looked to find Allen posted up and gave him honk to pay our respects.