ELLSWORTH, ME—BAR HARBOR, ME

Got up at leisurely time and leisurely pace this morning. It would be a short ride into our goal. Finally rolling around 10:30 we cruised through Trenton and onto the Mount Desert Island. There were still quite a few crappy roads and some rolling hills, but before long we landed in Bar Harbor, greeted by his folks. I went through the cliche gesture of dipping my wheel in the Atlantic at the cost of getting my shoes wet. John took a more literal approach to the gesture. I then grabbed a bottleful of Atlantic water to join the bottle I’d been carrying since the Washington coast. I don’t know what to do with the water now. Maybe put them into snowglobes? I welcome ideas.

We all had lunch and dropped our gear with John’s folks before setting out on a victory lap around Acadia’s Park Loop Road. It was strange riding without gear and it took a long time to feel balanced. Acadia is lovely and the weather was perfect. We opted to stay on the paved road instead of taking the carriage roads that spiral through the park. The carriage roads are closed to motor vehicles, but they’re also crushed gravel, and I’ve had my share of gravel. On our way to the Cadillac Mountain road, we had some douchebag of a road cyclist pass us going downhill who didn’t respond to either of our hellos and vocal attempts of being friendly. I guess he’s too cool for our steel bikes on his $3K Litespeed bike. We didn’t have the gears to try to catch up with him, but as we rounded a corner, we saw that he had slowed significantly on a medium climb. As we gained on him, it was clear that we could take him. As we started to pass, he tried to speed up, but we had thousands of miles of practice to teach him a lesson on being nice. We repeated our “hellos” as we handily climbed past him. He then tried to chat for a while, but then pulled off at an overlook. Douchebag. That was probably worth the 9 weeks of riding just there.

We then rode up to the top of Cadillac Mountain, the highest point on the Eastern Seaboard at 1530ft. It was only about three miles of a decent grade and it felt good to get one last climb in on this trip. Up on top the view was lovely and we sat up there for a bit too long, finally putting in the last 22 miles to get back home around 6:30. After showering and relaxing, our late return meant we missed the lobster pound which stopped serving at 7:30. No matter. We’d hit it tomorrow. It would be better anyway to enjoy the lobster when not starving for calories over content. Pizza instead, and we found an ice cream stand for dessert. I got an enormous peanut butter soft serve cone. And while we all stood outside eating them, my back to the stand, John and his mom kept noticing that the teenage girls in the shop were standing close to the window and looking our way. As we were getting into the car, one beckoned me to come over, the other shocked at her friend’s bravado. “I know this is a weird question,” she said,” but are you famous?”

Like she couldn’t tell.

CAMDEN, ME—ELLSWORTH, ME

John and I hit the road early anticipating more of the same in terms of the heat along with the crappy and hilly roads we’d encountered thusfar in Maine. But since we were now hugging the coast, and were on a popular route for tourist traffic, it seemed a little better. We rolled into Belfast, ME by 9:30 and found a nice diner for breakfast. I joked that they would have lobster omelets. It was in fact the case. I would wait for my lobster however, and had the greek omelet instead. Outside the diner was a local artist/bike mechanic who was making adjustments to his contribution to a public art display of bicycles that Belfast had supported. His was a dragonfly bike. Once he was finished John and I each got a chance to ride the dragonfly.

The day was getting warmer as we rolled on, but the cool water of the ocean seemed to keep the breeze cool. Going into the town of Bucksport, we had to cross the Penobscot Narrows Bridge which had been built to replace the aging bridge still next to it. It housed an observatory in on of it’s towers, but would have required riding down to its base to get in and climbing a steep incline to get out. Both John and I are happy with the decision we made in eschewing with the observatory.

After Bucksport it was wasn’t much further to the town of Ellsworth, just outside of which we’d be meeting John’s foks and spending the night. Getting into town, they came back and met us for lunch in town. It was great to see them again, having now twice falsely bidden them farewell.

Before the short three mile ride toward the park they were staying, I thought it would be good to get some air in my tires. And it wouldn’t be worth mentioning save for that likely because of this I ended up with a flat only a mile later. Balls! John now used to my flats sat down and listened to a radio diaries podcast while I went through the familiar routine. It should be noted that John had not encountered a flat the entire trip owing to the Schwalbe Marathon tires he had on his bike. While I’ve never used them, I now swear by them.

We rolled into the RV park and were greeted with water and beers. Hydrate before dehydrating is a good rule. Relaxed for a while and went back into town for dinner. A short day tomorrow of 15 miles to Bar Harbor. It feels kind of surreal.

WATERVILLE, ME – CAMDEN, ME

After a late night, I opted to sleep in a bit and then spent the morning hanging out with Jonathan and the 3yo twins. I also had a little time to play with Sarah and her new MacBook Pro. Man, I miss the Mac OS. It was nearing upon midday and it was turning out to be a real cooker. Of course, now I would be starting my day right in the hottest part of it. Good planning, Mikey. Before leaving, I’d gotten a text from John who said he’d already made it to Camden, where we said we’d be meeting. Oh, to be done before noon on a day like this would have been a good thing.

Rolling again after a few days off was quite the challenge. Compound that with the terrible secondary roads in Maine that were chopped to bits, and whose pavement would randomly end for small stretches, not to mention the really steep hills, I was not loving on this ride. Did I mention it was really hot? It got to 88, but it was also terribly humid.

After about 3 hours I had only made it 30 miles, and I came to an intersection that would take me on a busier road instead of the back roads I’d been on. It would have added 20 miles to my day, but I was really considering it. I bought a gallon of water from a convenience store and the woman behind the counter promised me the back roads got closer as I would approach the coast, which they did. In general, though, the roads in Maine have been pretty rough, and the hills have been steep and uncooperative—leaving just enough room after a downhill to rob the momemtum that might benefit me come time for the next steep climb. Jerks. So, however, I was through the worst of it and though I was soaked in sweat I could see from the top of my last climb the Atlanic, though really just a bay, over the trees and steeples leading into Camden.

Camden is a quaint touristy village that calls itself “The Crown Jewel of the Maine Coast.” It’s was quite nice, and quite busy by the time I rolled in, around 5PM. I got a message from John saying how there was little between Camden and the park, and to call him before rolling out. I called and after a bit of social wizardry, he’d worked out an invitation for both of us to dine as the guests of some other campers in the park. Nice. I needed only bring drinks, ice, and dessert. Done.
It was a quick roll into Camden Hills State Park, and there I found John. It was great to see him again and we caught up while I set up my tent and tried to cool down. After I showered and changed we went over to the site of the park hosts Ray and Terry, a couple from Florida, with whom John had spent the afternoon talking to. They were kind and interesting folks, outspoken Democrats despite their FL home address, and Ray, a Vietnam vet, was an active member of Veterans for Peace. So talk of politics over dinner flowed, and mostly in a fashion of agreement all around.

After dinner, Ray took me and John for a ride up to the top of Mt. Battie, suggesting it was worth the view, but something we were probably not going to want to climb on our bikes before leaving. True enough. It was hazy but the view to the southeast showed the the town of Camden and outlying islands, and the view to the west showed the hills that I’d been struggling through for the last few days. Ray explained that it was up here, that the poet Edna St. Vincent Millay would frequently visit as a young lady and write her early poetry. Ray also pointed off to some far off islands which had been in the news recently as competitive lobster trappers have taken to violence in a “surf war” leaving one man murdered and several boats scuttled. Wow, but Maine folk seem so otherwise harmless with that cute accent.

After some therapeutic time with friends and family, I returned to Waterville, ME and spent the day with my friend Sarah and her twin 3 year olds Henry and Greta, and then later in the evening got to spend a little time with Jonathan who had a late flight in from NYC. I wish I could stay longer, but imagine I’ll have a chance to visit again sometime.

If something good is to have come from my bereavement delay, it looks like I’ll be able to meet up again with John, who I have been sporadically chatting and texting with, but haven’t seen since our routes split outside of Grand Rapids, MN. We talked through our remaining few days before hitting Bar Harbor and worked out that we would meet up and finish the ride together, which I think is somewhat fitting. I look forward to seeing him again and catching up.

Tomorrow I ride once more.

FARMINGTON, ME—WATERVILLE, ME

After a fitful night trying to sleep, I got up around 5:30AM and rolled out by 6. I had about 40 miles to cover before I could pick up the car. It was hilly and oftentimes very steep. It took me a little over three hours to get into Waterville. I was feeling really weak, probably because I only had about 3 hours sleep the night before.

I finally rolled in to town and contacted Jonathan and Sarah’s neighbors to let me into their place, as they were both in New York at the time. I dropped off Sofia quickly showered, and their neighbor John was nice enough to drive me over to the rental car place just a mile or two up the road.

After a little while I was driving a silver Ford Focus down I-95 at was comparably break-neck speed. It was very strange to be moving at highway speeds, and after a while I regained the confidence to go the speed limit and then over it. Lucky for me the car came equipped with a Sirius satellite radio, which I had not had a lot of time to experience before renting this car. It’s kind of awesome. If you spend a lot of time in your car. They have a station that plays nothing but music from the 1940’s. Harry James, Artie Shaw, Woody Herman, Tommy Dorsey and so on. It made the trip far more bearable.

I had to stop to get appropriate clothes in Portland, finding a mall with both a Macy’s for some new digs and kicks, and an Apple store to finally swap out my iPhone for one that actually works. With both tasks done, I settled in for the drive, finally making it into Buffalo where I met my brother at the Hyatt around midnight. He had beer and food from room service waiting. Thank goodness.

COLEBROOK, NH – FARMINGTON, ME

Early in the morning I was able to talk to my folks and my brother again to determine that I would need to make it to Buffalo by the morning of the 14th for the services. I could potentially renta car in Farmington,ME but then I’d have to get a car big enough to tote my bike and all my gear with me. The alternative would be to try to make it to Waterville, ME where my friends Jonathan and Sarah live, and where I could leave all my gear and rent a car. This seemed to be solidfied as the case as when I called ahead to Farmington, they said they didn’t have any cars and wouldn’t unless I had reserved one in advance, so they could have driven one in. Instead I called ahead to Waterville and made sure they’d have one and would try to get there as early as I could on Thursday morning to drive the 10 hours to Buffalo.

The day started off nice enough with a soft fog which burned off around 9 or 10 to a warm sunshine. I had made it to Grafton Notch (the notch being what they call their mountain passes out east) and enjoyed a rest and lunch at a picnic area in the shade. Just over the notch after lunch however it started to rain, and just as I finished putting on my raingear it started pouring and continued to pour. Being in the state park, there were no good places to pull over to find shelter, and soon enough I found that I was thoroughly soaked to the point where it was really not worth stopping for cover anyway. It cleared up for a little as I approached the town of Newry, where I stopped for a cup of coffee and quick break.

Hoping to get in the 90 miles to Farmington, I knew it was important to push on, and so through the drizzle I rode until it finally cleared up around 3 and I was able to get out of my raingear. The rest of the day was long and hilly, but I was on a mission to get to Farmington to ensure a short ride the next day before a long drive.

Found a motel just outside of town and made arrangements with Jonathan to drop of my bike and secured my car for the big drive the next day. I was tired, and had to get up very early the next day, but couldn’t sleep.

Hello all who may or may not still be reading this. I know I’ve been a bit behind in updating the blog (though you’ll note some post-dated entries if you care to read back in time).

I’m currently in Farmington, ME, but I learned yesterday that my grandfather passed away, and so I’m going to put my ride on hold for a few days, rent a car and head up to upstate New York to go to the services and be with family.

Check back in a few days.