trucks

The Milk Man

pLQ05PfQ8sTTlgu5Time sure has changed. I guess I can be classified as an older person because the milk man would come into our house and put the milk in our refrigerator when we was sleeping in the morning. I always knew he was there because you could hear the clinking of the glass bottles.

Watching the milk trucks was like watching the ice cream trucks. I remember it was Hood Trucks around here. I loved it in the summer the neighborhood kids and I would run down the street to get a sliver off the block of ice. Cheap man’s popsicle, but we looked forward to it every summer.

I always loved the glass bottles when in primary school. I think it was around elementary school that they changed to the carton pint size milk servings. The days of the glass bottle’s disappeared forever. Some things were better left alone.

I still look down the road on occasions and think the milk man is coming down the road. Clink Clink, here he comes again. Later stay warm anyone in the northeast. Burr!      © Dwayne Bilodeau 2014

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Snowmobile Riding North

snowmobilingThis could probably be counted as one of the worst or best trips from hell. The wife and I had planned a trip to Moosehead Lake in Maine. We made plans to go snowmobile riding up there and we rented a room at a local hotel in Rockwood.

I decided it was time to get the snowmobile ready before the trip. I started it up, and took a short ride on the back lawn where I live. Something was terribly wrong with the sled. I could hear metal to metal, and crunching sound. This sled was damaged and we had no time to send it to the repair shop before our trip. My wife and I talked, we decided to go buy another snowmobile. We went to the local sled dealer and bought a used sled. Good one too, with a long seat, and longtrack.

With the sled loaded, we made our way up north. We arrived and checked in. It was still early in the day and we wanted to make our way to Pittston Farms. A place we could go get a cocktail and a bite to eat. We took off across the lake on the pole trail which led us back to land. The first sign I saw stated Pittston Farm this way to the right. I turned and went down the trail, noticing a sign that said snowmobile shop. We went a little further and another sign showed the restaurant going the opposite direction than what the first sign showed. I turned the sled, backing up into deep snow, using the reverse the sled had. We just started the other way when my wife tapped me on the shoulder and said, What is that green stuff in the snow where you backed up? I stopped in the trail to inspect if any damage and anti-freeze was  pouring out of my heat exchanger.

I remembered the sign, snowmobile shop ahead. I made it to this shop and the repair man told me he didn’t have time to work on it because he was so busy. He said, I can give you a bottle of antifreeze so you can get back to Rockwood. We made it back to Rockwood Hotel and the owners were at their desk. I asked if any snowmobile repair shops around. Hang on a minute the lady said. I could hear her talking. Joe, can you work on a sled? She got off the phone and the guy told her, Yes. His shop was a mile down the road. I loaded the sled into my pick-em-up-truck and off we went.

It was time to chill out so we decided to have some cocktails and eat some dinner. It was about 8 o’clock that evening and the owner told us the sled was done and we could pick it up. I brought my truck down and paid the guy. I off loaded my sled at the hotel parking lot and put it back up near the hotel. I went back into the restaurant with my wife and finished dining with her. I was looking outside the window, enjoying seeing all the snowmobilers riding around when I noticed a flash of something out of the corner of my eye. I then saw my red pick-em-up-truck jump about five feet sideways. I knew at this moment a snowmobiler had hit my truck at a very fast rate. I jumped up from the table and started running toward my truck . The owner of the hotel was following me because we wanted to make sure no one was injured. When we just about got to the truck, the owner replied; Oh no that is my son. I was floored with that statement. What really happened was his son’s sled did a runaway when he started it. Maybe the throttle was stuck so when there was ignition it took off at a fast rate. The sled was in bad condition along with my truck. We was glad the son was not injured but the damage was severe. The truck still could be driven, we exchanged names and numbers, and waited for a warden to file a report.

Fun comes in many ways. We took a bad experience but still had a lot of fun. Everything was taking care of at the end, and I would recommend going to Moosehead snowmobiling to anyone. Just make sure you bring lots of lucky charms. We never did make it to Pittston Farms, Bad Omen! Make sure you take the Black Fly Loop. This trail goes all the way around the lake. Just Beautiful.  http://www.pittstonfarm.com 2011TrailsSwett
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