It was drizzling and it was damp on Friday night as I headed to camp.
I loaded up my sidecar and rode out into the rain.
On the road, I’d like to freeze as I motored up north looking for trees
but before I could hit the woods I got stuck in the Rumford homecoming parade.

It was raining to beat the band as I came down over the Height of Land
And it was something kinda like a miracle that I’d survived.
When I hit camp, my hands were shaking, I was shivering cold, my back was aching
But after a hot bowl of Mike’s beef stew I felt kinda’ revived.

The gang stops for a moment by Cupsuptic Pond on Sunday in Oxbow Township near the Canadian border. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

Saturday, it came off clear when all the rest of them started to appear.
There was John and Keith and Bill and Myles and the other Mike.
Johnny Sideburns, he was there, and Sue and Scott are quite a pair.
I can’t forget Thermos and Jessie, who rode in a two-wheeled bike.

Bill found a dead grouse out on the road and it so fresh it wasn’t even cold
and Thermos thought that bird’d taste good around suppertime.
Fried in beer, wrapped in bacon, let me tell you, man, he wan’t mistaken.
That thing resembled something a lot like chicken and went down wicked fine.

Bill found a dead ruffed grouse on the road. Thermos decided to cook it. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

It got warm on Sunday and we set forth, pointing our handlebars generally north.
The leaves were pretty, so I switched on my video recorder.
As we rode on and on and on we went right past Cupsuptic Pond
And ended up right there on the Canadian border.

To our surprise, there was a guard sitting there in his patrol car
Miles and miles from anywhere and impossible to miss.
He got out of his car and ambled over, pointed and said, “Right there’s the border.”
Then he squinted and said, “You can’t go any further than this.”

I snapped a selfie with Border Patrol Agent John Crosby Jr. on Sunday with Canada behind us. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

A post and a cleared swath through the woods marks the Canadian border on Sunday in Oxbow Township. The border was finally set by the Webster–Ashburton Treaty, signed August 9, 1842, 22 years after Maine became a state. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

Border Patrol Agent John Crosby Jr. was nice enough to pose for a group picture with us at the boundary line on Sunday. Behind us is Quebec, Canada. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

Then, all at once, he cracked a smile and we ended up chewing some fat for a while
And it turned out he was pretty cool for a G Man.
We took some pictures and he jumped right in, then I even got a selfie with him.
Then we put on our helmets and we all shook hands.

Then, we rode south and all around and some folks even went into town
But I took some pictures and heeded back to camp for a brew.
We gathered round the fire late that night and it’s possible a few of us even got tight.
Then, I pulled out my guitar and I believe I played a few tunes

Thermos (from left) Sue, Scott and John enjoy the campfire Sunday night in Upper Cupsuptic Township. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

All in all, it was a wicked good time and pretty damed close to paradise.
And I’ll tell you right now what I think if you really wanna know.
Get yourself a bike, learn to ride, head for the woods but make sure you find
As nice a bunch of folks as I did before you go.

There’s something more I want you to know before I can let you go.
There’s someone to whom I want to dedicate this song.
North to south, east to west, as a sidecar pal he was the best.
Please lift your your glasses to the memory of Buddy the Dog.

Buddy the Dog , Scott’s friend and sidecar riding partner from Maine to New Mexico, has gone on to whatever paradise surely awaits all good dogs. We’ll miss him around camp.