Chuck's Big Ride

Ride Day Thirty-Four: Belfast to Bar Harbor, ME — 55.1 Miles

It's hard to believe this is the last day of the regular cross-country ride, part 2.  I left Mandan, ND, on September 1st and at about 2pm this afternoon rode into Bar Harbor, ME.  It's been a great experience, and a great ending — more on that later.

One of the first sights on today's ride was the bridge over the Penobscot River.  I wish I'd had the time to go up in the observation tower, but an afternoon deadline in Bar Harbor required I press on.  Here's the bridge, which I rode across just a few minutes after taking the photo.

Several parts of the ride within Maine have been along U.S. Bike Route 1.  It's the route that runs from Maine to Florida.  Here's the sign designating the route.

I had to take a photo of the sign for one of the towns along the way today.  This is in honor of Todd Ellsworth, one of the people who rode with me from Fairhaven to Newhalem on day one of the 2015 journey. 

My apologies to David Fayram, Sarah Benn, Cathy Campbell, and John Bolton, who also rode with me to Newhalem on that first day.  I just couldn't find towns along the way with your names.

It was cooler today than yesterday but still a great day for a ride. I rode again without music, musing about the ride mostly, and thinking about what comes next, besides a drive home with some sightseeing and visiting friends and relatives on the way.  There were no dogs and no falls.

The traditional ending of a ride to Bar Harbor is at the city pier.  So, here I am at the city pier.

You'll notice that I'm wearing my Boundary Bay jersey.  My friend Jerry DeBacker suggested that I needed a yellow jersey for the finish and this was the yellow jersey I had along.  Plus, it's one of my favorite jerseys.  I really could have used a Scotch Ale from BB at that point.

Having ridden across the entire country I figured that I wouldn't need this anymore.

Just kidding.  I'll actually need it to ride around Acadia National Park over the next few days.

Not having Boundary Bay's Scotch Ale close at hand, we stopped into Bar Harbor Beer Works for a bowl of clam chowder and a pint of Bar Harbor Real Ale.

We went to Sherman's Bookstore to meet with owner Jeff Curtis and Binc board member Annie Philbrick.  When we walked into the bookstore we were greeted with this display.

Jeff and Maria have an apartment above the bookstore where we went for a prosecco toast and some great conversation.

I should mention that the fifth individual in the photo is Sherman, a very sweet Samoyed.

Today is Dee's birthday and Jeff presented her with the official state treat, the Whoopie Pie.

After our celebration we went to dinner with Jeff, his wife Maria, their daughter Gabriella, and Annie Philbrick at a great restaurant called Galyn's.

Now for a few days of relaxation, some less intense rides, and sight seeing in an extremely beautiful part of the country.

Ride Day Thirty-Four by the numbers:

55.1 — miles ridden

1886.4 — feet in elevation gain

5519 — calories burned

6 — fall-free days in a row

0 — dogs

 

Ride Day Thirty-Three: Brunswick to Belfast, ME — 74 Miles

What a contrast today was with yesterday.  It was sunny most of the day and temperatures climbed into the mid-70's.  Yesterday it poured most of the day and I don't think the mercury got much higher than 60.  Yesterday turned out to be a good day for exploring, in spite of the rain. We went to Boothbay and explored the quaint seaside village, including spending some time in Sherman's Books.  We'll be in Sherman's store in Bar Harbor tomorrow afternoon for a celebration of the ride and specifically for the fundraising for the Book Industry Charitable Foundation.  Annie Philbrick, owner of Bank Square Books in Mystic, Connecticut, and Savoy Bookshop and Café in Westerly, Rhode Island, and a Binc board member, will be there to greet us, along with folks from Sherman's.

On the way back to Brunswick we stopped at Red's Eats in Wiscasset, which came highly recommended by our friend Marilyn McClellan, who has visited Maine often and loves the lobster rolls here.  So do we.  They were just as tasty as those in Portland, but were piled even higher with lobster meat.  They also serve theirs with drawn butter.  The place apparently always has a line, even on this rainy day.  They do provide umbrellas.  This photo was taken just after the rain subsided. The line wraps around the far end of the building behind me.  There were likely thirty or more folks waiting when this photo was taken.

Today was a good day for a ride.

One of the first bridges I crossed — there were several today — presented an unusual sight.  At first glance it looked like there was snow and ice in the water.  I'm not sure what was causing the extreme foam.

A short distance farther into the ride I encountered the first wildlife of the day...Maine style.

The second wild creature was a little more aggressive.  As you can see, he tried to take my bike.  I told him his cousin Smokey would be upset by his behavior.  He got embarrassed and gave me the bike.

I had a couple of interesting semi-encounters with creatures of the domesticated variety.  First, a rather large dog lunged, barking, out of its dog house toward the road.  Fortunately, it was chained and came to a sudden halt.  The second was a dog of similar size, unchained and charging toward the road.  Employing my usual tactic I shouted NO! NO!  It worked as well as the chain.

This is a view of the old bridge at Bath.  Take a look at the far right end of it.  This is the ultimate "bridge to nowhere."  Fortunately, I was on the newer bridge.

I didn't play any music today.  It wasn't actually a conscious decision, I just never put any on.  I was enjoying the scenery and riding on road shoulders it was easier to hear cars coming.

The scenery continues to be beautiful here even without the full-blown color that was expected before an unusually warm September encouraged the trees to continue to produce chlorophyll.  Here's a view across Seven Tree Pond.

It's difficult to tell from this photo, but this is a rather large body of water that I expected would be called a lake.  Ponds, according to my quick research, are shallow enough to support rooted plants, often across their entire surface.  This body of water didn't appear that shallow, nor did two others nearby, also called ponds.  Hmmm.

There were a lot of hills today.  In fact the elevation I gained (4114..3 feet) is nearly 16 feet more than the Mount Baker Hill Climb (4098.6).  Now riding from Glacier to Artist's Point is a pretty steady uphill climb in just under 25 miles.  Today's ride was up and down over 74 miles.  What I did miss in today's ride was that long descent.

We've got a great spot at the campground tonight with a terrific view of Belfast Bay, and looking out into Penobscot Bay.

In some ways it's a little hard to believe that tomorrow is my last day of this ride. I've enjoyed (nearly) every minute of it.  Most of the time there's no where else I'd rather be.  The weather with the exception of one day of really getting rained on and three days taken off to avoid riding in the rain, has been unbelievable.  Folks here in Maine don't believe it any more than we do.

I appreciate all of you who have followed and many who have commented on the blog.  I'll post again tomorrow night and will also do a summary after the ride ends and I'm relaxing in Bar Harbor.  Thanks, too, to all of you who have donated to one or more of the foundations.  If you haven't donated and would still like to, here are the links:

Donate to: Whatcom Community Foundation

Donate to: Whatcom Community College Foundation

Donate to: The Book Industry Charitable Foundation

A penny per mile ($20) to any (or all) of these foundations would be extremely helpful.  And, of course, you need not feel constrained by that suggestion.

I realized today that, because of some rain-day driving, when I arrive at our destination in Bar Harbor I'll be about 17 miles short of 2000 miles.  So, on Thursday I'll ride the Acadia Park Loop, a 27-mile loop around the park that is rated as the best bike ride in Acadia.

Ride Day Thirty-Three by the numbers:

74 — miles ridden

4114.2 — feet in elevation gained

7403.07 — calories burned

5 — fall-free days in a row

2 — dogs (see above — no harm, no foul)

1 — giant lobster (see above)

1 — bear (see above)

Ride Day Thirty-Two: Portland to Freeport — 17.9 Miles

It was a very short ride day today that began very oddly.  With heavy rain and possible thunder showers predicted for late morning I planned to get in a couple of hours riding before the skies opened.  As I rode across the parking lot of the campground I heard a thump, thump, thump and felt a bump with each revolution of the wheel — the front, I believed.  So, using my masterful mechanical skills and intuition I began to diagnose the problem.  Was the front wheel out of true? I lifted the bike and spun the wheel.  No, the wheel appeared balanced.  I looked for a bump or weak spot in the tire.  No luck.  Bike on the bike.  Thump, thump, thump.

I learned there was a bike shop just blocks away that was open this morning (Sunday). I was greeted by the owner, Claude Breton, who asked me to bring my bike around the building to the lower level shop, an area full of Specialized bikes.  Breton put the bike on a stand and began examining the front wheel and tire.  He couldn't find any problem either.  Then he looked at the back tire, which had now gone flat.  Turns out I'd picked up a tiny piece of wire and punctured the tube.  All the while Breton and I had been chatting about his shop, rides in the area, and my ride across the country.  Tire fixed, I tried  to pay, but Mr. Breton insisted on donating the tube and labor to the foundations for which I was raising money.  Cheers to you Mr. Breton.

Turns out the flat tire could have been a good thing.  By the time it was fixed it was pouring.  I would have only been a short way down the road and soaked.  So, I loaded the bike in the Rialta and we began driving north, stopping in Portland for this Maine specialty.,,

...at this establishment.

After lunch the skies had cleared so I decided to get a few miles in with a ride to Freeport.  Shortly after beginning the ride I crossed the this U.S. 1 bridge, heading toward Falmouth.

A short distance out of Freeport I spotted this.

What on earth is this Plains Indian statue doing in Maine?

No visit to Freeport would be complete without a visit to L..L. Bean, which with its multiple stores has become the anchor to a retail mecca, with nearly every major brand you can imagine.  We arrived during a special Columbus Day weekend celebration with lots of craft vendors under tents and live music.

No matter what you think of L.L. Bean, it's hard to disagree with the founder's sentiments about business.

While standing in line to pay for some items we found, I spotted this sweatshirt on the guy ahead of us.

Anyone recognize that boat?  It's the Snow Goose — home port Bellingham, WA.  This guy's sister is the naturalist on the crew, apparently Bethany Hasper, according to the Snow Goose website.  The boat was owned for a number of years by our friends Bert and Sue Webber, and Dee and I have been on it a couple of times. Small world, huh?

Shopping done, we headed to Brunswick and the motel we had booked for tonight — no campgrounds available on the three-day weekend.  With nearly 100% chance of rain throughout the day tomorrow, we're sitting tight.  I'll reconfigure Tuesday and Wednesday to get us to Bar Harbor in time for a celebration at Sherman's Books Wednesday afternoon.

Ride Day Thirty-Two by the numbers:

17.9 —miles ridden

771 — feet in elevation gained

1788.59 — calories burned

4 — fall-free days

0 — dogs

Ride Day Thirty-One: Loudon, NH to Wells, ME — 61.7 Miles

It was fallishly (that's a word, right?) brisk as I began the ride around 9am this morning.  The ride today would be entirely along roads.  No railroad trails in sight.  And I knew there would be some hills.  The roads were all pretty good, except for one (more on that later).  The shoulder width varied, but in most cases I felt pretty safe.

After three days of silent contemplation while I rode, I decided to return to listening to music I hadn't heard for a while.  I began with Buckwheat Zydeco's "Taking it Home."  I like Zydeco music, but can't say this was a favorite album.  Maybe that's why I hadn't listened to it for quite a while.  Next I listened to "The Best of Cher."  I have to confess I was pretty taken with Cher at one time — pre-nose-job. I like Lyle Lovett quite a bit and hadn't listened to "I Love Everybody" for some time, but his voice isn't the best for accompanying a ride, especially with traffic noise.  I'd forgotten about having an album by the Cluster Pluckers called "Unplucked." This was probably my favorite rediscovery today.  It's a fun combination of folk, country, bluegrass, and gospel, played by some very good musicians.  "I'd give it a nine, Mr. Clark, because it's got a good beat and easy to ride to."

I didn't take many photos today, but this sign did catch my eye.

I had to wonder if it was a direct route to Seattle.

We had decided to meet in Dover for lunch and to check out a cemetery where Rose Stoughton Otis is buried.  If our genealogy is correct she's Dee's 7th Great Grandmother on her Father's side of the family.  We found the cemetery, but many of the headstones — as we'd been forewarned by a site on the internet — had been destroyed, including Rose's apparently. Here's a photo of Dee at the cemetery.

The town was abuzz with a fall harvest festival.  Traffic was incredible and finding our way through the morass was a bit frustrating.  Dee remarked "why did they have this festival today, didn't they know we were coming?"

A short way from the cemetery we found a place called Patty B's, an Italian restaurant where I had a great meatball sub and a nice pale ale, and Dee had a caprese pizza. Once sated we drove through the downtown melee to the edge of town where I picked up the ride again.  And, just as I began, so did the rain.  I got a chance to practice the Art of Riding in the Rain (sorry Garth).  I think I've mentioned before that I hesitate to begin a ride in the rain, but don't mind so much being rained on once I'm out.  That's good, since it rained for quite a while.  Luckily, I had a wide shoulder on route 9, which I was on for some distance.  I should mention that in New Hampshire route 9 has been designated the Franklin Pierce Highway and the route traces nearly his entire life from birth, through college and law school, to Concord where he practiced law for years.

Google's GPS always tries to be helpful, and today was no exception.  I was happily cruising along on route nine, wide shoulder and all, when the voice in my head said "turn right on Dennett road."  If one looks at a map, the turn makes sense.  It bypasses the village of Berwick and likely saves a mile or two on the process.  However, when I first turned and saw some less-than-smooth asphalt, I thought "maybe this wasn't such a great idea."  I should have listened to myself.  I continued on as the road got no better and then suddenly became this.

The road had been scarified , probably in preparation for resurfacing.  This photo doesn't even do justice to the condition of the road with large chunks of asphalt.  About a mile into the ride and unsure of what might lie ahead I turned around and returned to the familiar wide shoulder of route 9.

Farther along the road the voice returned, urging me to take another "shortcut."  This time I thought "fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me."  I stuck to route 9.

Just as I turned onto route 9b (not a shortcut this time, but a route to our campground) I spotted this wonderful mailbox stand.

It's also the point at which I began to see fog ahead of me, coming in off the Atlantic.  As I joined U.S. 1 it looked a bit like a parking lot.  It was stop and go traffic for the mile or so to the campground. 

I'm in the last state of this ride — Maine.  That's the 9th on this year's ride, and twelfth altogether for the two-stage cross-country ride.  Dee hadn't been in Maine before and I'd only been in Portland and the vicinity for some meetings a few years ago.  It's Dee's 50th state (it was my 49th the first time here, but I've since been in Alaska for all 50).

Ride Day Thirty-One by the numbers:

61.7 — miles ridden

2726.4 — feet in elevation gained

6126.98 — calories burned

4 — fall-free days

0 — dogs

 

Thanks to Beth Golay, who does the blog "Books and Whatnot," you can also follow the journey on Story Map.

Ride Day Thirty: Andover to Loudon, NH — 32 Miles

You may, or may not, have noticed that the starting point for today's ride is not the ending point of yesterday's ride.  Call me a wimp — even though I've ridden over 3000 miles across the U.S. so far.  Shortly after we woke it began raining fairly hard.  Some folks might say I just don't like to get wet, but I think it's a safety issue, especially on unfamiliar roads with narrow shoulders.  At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it.  So, we waited a while, contemplated the options, then decided to drive a ways to wait out the rain and begin the ride later.  I rationalized this in part by the fact that yesterday I rode about 40 miles north to Woodstock, before having to ride about 40 miles south to resume the route.  And, I have miles to spare in hitting 2000.

We've come to understand that folks in New England really go all out decorating for Halloween.  Many homes have figures in the yards, along with pumpkins and other fall and seasonal decor.  We began to notice all along route 4 this morning figures, often fastened to signs or posts, but sometimes free-standing.  Here are a couple.

There were a couple dozen of these figures in less than twenty miles. The one we really wished we'd been able to get a picture of was a figure on a bicycle, right next to the road.  From a ways back one could swear it was a biker there.

With time to spare, we decided to stop for lunch.  I'd tracked down a little brew pub just outside of New London.  Here's their logo on a pint of Ragged Mountain Red Ale (I needed the carbs and sugar to fuel the ride).

It was a very tasty, hoppy beer and it helped wash down my PB (yes, peanut butter) and saracha burger.  It may not sound great to you, but it was delicious.  It came with some of the best sweet potato fries I've ever had.  And, after Dee let me taste her corn and black bean chowder, I ordered a bowl of that as well.  Now I had to ride, just to be able to still get into my bike clothes.

It was just seven miles to Andover and the beginning of the Northern Railroad Trail and as we drove there we noticed that the farther we got into New Hampshire, the more colorful the trees became.  It was as if someone had turned up the color knob on our vision.

75% of today's ride would be on the Northern Railroad Trail, which is likely the best maintained rock rail trail I've been on.

I joined the trail at an old depot where one line of track was still in place.  I thought I had waited out the rain, so I rolled up my light bike jacket and stuffed it into my bike bag.  Just after I began pedaling I noticed I was feeling rain drops, so a short distance down the trail I pulled out the jacket and put it on.  At about that same point I realized that one doesn't have to go far in New England to find a covered bridge. Here was yet another, right along the trail.

Less than five miles on, the sun broke through and I was getting too warm in the jacket, so it went back in the bag.  Of course, that wasn't the end of the rain.  But I only got a few sprinkles before it stopped.

All along the trail their were old stone mile markers.  I took this photo especially for our friend Kris Molesworth, who likes the typography on mile markers.  I think this one has likely been painted over in more recent times.

There was also this sign.

"You know how to whistle don't you...?"

Here was one mysterious structure along the trail.

A Druid ritual site? The foundation of a round barn?  No, it's apparently part of the structure of an old railroad turntable, but it even has historians a bit baffled, according to this sign.

There was often water along side the elevated trail.  Sometimes it was a marshy area with lots of cattails, later in the ride it was the Merrimack River running alongside.  This was Webster Lake, viewed through the trees.

I wasn't listening to music or a book again today.  Instead I was absorbing the atmosphere of a great fall day in New England (in spite of a little rain).  It also gave me time to think about how difficult it must have been to build this railroad, slicing through the wilderness, elevating the track, the immense amount of planning and effort it must have taken.

I also enjoyed seeing more ground squirrels per mile than I've seen in the entire trip.  Perhaps more in this 21 miles on the trail than the entire trip total up till now.  There were also a fair number of tree squirrels scampering across the trail.  Except for some birds, that was the extent of the wildlife seen today.  I did find myself wondering what I'd do if I met a moose on the trail.  It is, after all, moose country and we've seen moose crossing signs on the roads (how do the moose know where to cross?).  Alas, no moose.

I did have one jarring encounter with a dog.  Just a few miles from tonight's campground I was riding on the edge of a road with no real shoulder and quite a bit of traffic.  I could hear a dog barking very close to me, but couldn't quite place where the sound was coming from.  It kept getting nearer and I thought it might be chasing me.  Just then I looked to the side and I was nearly face to snout with the culprit, head out of a passing car window.  Fortunately I didn't run off the road.

After leaving the trail I had about 9 miles of a rolling, uphill ride to the campground.  It was a fairly pleasant ride, except for some heavy traffic.  It was nearly 4pm on a Friday, holiday weekend, afternoon, so I imagine there were a lot of folks heading home from work, or already out "leaf peeping."

Ride Day Thirty by the numbers:

32 — miles ridden

803.8 — feet in elevation gained (more than half in the last nine miles)

3145.67 — calories burned

3 — fall-free days

1 — dog (see above)

many — stuffed roadside Halloween figures

Ride Day Twenty-Nine: Manchester Center to Woodstock, VT — 59.8 Miles

It was a perfect morning to ride and the first 17 miles were pretty flat so it was a good warmup for what was to come later.  The geology along route 7 going north was spectacular.  Here are a couple of examples.

A short distance north of Manchester Center in the town of Dorset I spotted this sign.  You know my fascination with odd signs and street names.

One could certainly make up some good stories about how that road got named, but the real story, which I don't know, is likely better. Once I made the turn off of route 7 the climbing began, so there aren't a lot of photos.  Getting started on uphill slopes, particularly on some of the (not so) packed gravel roads I was on is a challenge, so I chose not to stop often.  As I got higher the colors began to be more dramatic, but the trees still have a ways to go to be in full autumn splendor.

And, shortly after turning onto Gorge Road I discovered the Kingsley grist mill and covered bridge.  Here are photos of the sign marking the historic spot and the covered bridge nearby.

According to Blood, Sweat, & Tears "What goes up must come down, Spinnin' wheel got to go 'round."  And so it was today.  After more climbing than I'd done in a single day on this trip, I went over the top and had a long downhill ride.  Too bad that much of it was on a gravel road with washboard and potholes at times.  It was a little hard to let the "spinnin' wheel" max that downhill.  Once on route 4 it was an easy flat and downhill pedal to our destination, but we really needed to stop in Bridgewater for a Maple Creamee — a soft serve maple ice cream cone.  When in Vermont...

Just across the street from the deli where we got the cones was this unique building. 

It was a store that sells handmade drums and other crafts.  I just love the trees on the front of the building.

I thought I would be taking route 4 all the way into Woodstock, but just about four miles out of town the voice in my head (GPS talking through my Coros helmet) told me to turn right and take another road, which took me through this covered bridge.

Once again I was on a somewhat hard-packed gravel road, but with very little traffic.  The road was supposed to lead me into Woodstock.  Then I saw the Road Work Ahead, then a large piece of equipment blocking the road (I rode around it).  I finally arrived at a spot where there were at least 15 men with hardhats standing.  I said hi and asked if I could take the bridge to my left.  One of the guys said I could, then said, pointing, "they're packing dynamite."  I laughed, thinking he was making a joke.  Then he said.  "No, they're packing dynamite." I told them I was "outa there," and quickly rode across the bridge, rejoining route 4 about a mile and a half outside of Woodstock.

Woodstock is a lovely little town and was crawling with "leaf peepers" this afternoon.  There was traffic everywhere and the sidewalks were packed with people going in and out of shops, including The Yankee Bookshop, the oldest independent bookstore in Vermont.  We stopped to say hi to the new owners Kari and Kristian, who took over the shop in February.  They're the eighth owners since the store was opened in 1935.  We talked a bit about the business and about Binc.  Here's a photo in front of the shop.

After saying goodbye we headed off to our campsite at the local KOA and were greeted by this Halloween decor.

It's one of the nicest campgrounds we've stayed in.  Not only is the shower house spic and span, but they've even hung art on the walls. 

Ride Day Twenty-Nine by the numbers:

59.8 — miles ridden

3218.5 — feet in elevation gained (the most of any day on this trip, but it pales by comparison to day two, over the Cascades, on the 2015 ride)

5985.13 — calories burned

2 — fall-free days

0 — dogs