After 2 years of planning, Laurie and I finally went to Maine!
There was just a bit of traffic.
After a 13 hour drive on Thursday, we arrived in Brunswick where Laurie's friend Cathy put us up for two nights. On Friday, I drove the car to Ellsworth and parked it in the Walmart parking lot. Fingers crossed it would be okay, and I rode in Spud's Taxi back to Brunswick. My driver didn't like highways, didn't know how to drive around a traffic circle, and didn't really know her way around outside of her own small town. It was an interesting ride!
After I got back, Laurie, Cathy, and I stopped by Harriet Beecher Stowe's house near Bowdoin College. She only lived there a year or so, but it was where she wrote Uncle Tom's Cabin. It turned out we needed an appointment to get in, but this is the view of her writing room through the window.
There was a quote on the wall from a letter she wrote in a letter: "Since I began this note, I have been called off at least a dozen times; once for the fish-man . . . once to see a man who had brought me some barrels of apples . . . once to see a book man . . . then to nurse the baby; then into the kitchen to make a chowder for dinner; and now I am at it again, for nothing but deadly determination enables me ever to write."
Later, we went out to dinner at a cozy little lobster place on the water. We had a lobster roll Connecticut style (warm with butter on a toasted roll), and a bowl of steamers. Took us back to childhood for sure.
 |
| The view from our table |
 |
| The steamers |
It was a gray and cold evening, but it was our first view of the water, so it warranted a picture. It's worth mentioning it had been in the 90s and the temp dropped to the low 50s that night!
After dinner we went to the McIntosh Lot Trail to see the "monster's stairs." The surf and rocks were beautiful.
These roses were in bloom all week while we visited.
Laurie becoming one with the ocean.
Cathy did a lot of driving while we were there. Thanks Cathy!
DAY 1: BRUNSWICK TO DUCKPUDDLE NEAR WALDOBORO- 44 miles, 3,000 ft
The next morning, we were up by 6am packing to leave. Cathy drove us to Bowdoin college where we began our trek. The forecast was for rain on-and-off for the next two days, so we packed everything in plastic, including ourselves. Except Laurie who I didn't yet know had sent her raincoat to Ellsworth in the car!
We said our farewells to Cathy...
...but then she drove around the corner to where she knew we'd be riding, jumped out of the bushes, and took our pic riding by. I was so tickled by that!
The beginning of our ride was so interesting. We passed a lot of marshland, which I wasn't expecting. Parts of it looked more like Florida than Maine.
These two bikes must have washed away from someone's property during a storm. How strange they would land in the same place.
The first few towns also had a lot of turns, so it was no surprise I missed a turn in the quaint town of Bath. We circled around a bit before finding our way onto this crosswalk to take route 1 across the Kennebec River.
It turned out most of our route followed the East Coast Greenway. I did not set out to follow that trail, but the Adventure Cycling route followed it, so here we were. The signs were a HUGE help during the week.
Early hours of the ride passing through Woolwich, Wiscasset, and environs.
After about 25 miles, we wanted our PB&Js. We were looking for a place to eat when I saw a cyclist stopped on the road ahead. Luke was from South Carolina but had ridden his bike from Oregon. He was on the second-to-last day of his transcontinental trip! He asked how far we'd gone and we said 25 miles. He'd ridden over 4,000! He was so happy to see us and we sat and talked for a while (as Laurie and I brushed the tics off of our legs!). He said he rode 5-6 hours per day and had given up camping because of the heat. So he'd shipped his tent and stove back home. At the start, his rig weighed 200 lbs! He had a Surley Trucker and 4 panniers. I think the load was lighter without the camping gear. While chatting, another biker stopped to see how we were doing. All of this after another woman asked if we needed coffee or a shower earlier (when we were heading into Bath - less than 10 miles into our trip!).
We thought both of these signs were funny riding into New Castle.
When we saw signs for Damariscotta, I had the feeling we'd arrived at the end. In studying the map for so many months, this was the place I thought we'd stop for a beer or some groceries on our way to Duckpuddle. Thank god we didn't do that - we still had some riding to do.
More harbors. And the weather, though gray, continued to hold.
The dead always get the best view.
When we turned off of Route 1 onto Winslow road, we saw a sign for the campground and cheered. But we celebrated too early. The second hardest hill of the week awaited just around the corner. The only way to get up it was to switchback it. And nearly vomit. But somehow we both got to the top. The final 2 miles after that were clouded by the fear we'd come to another such hill.
After arriving, we had a clear agenda: set up camp, shower, buy a few beers and have happy hour.
I forgot I had my knife with a bottle opener, so we asked the nice neighbors to open our 4 coronas, then I had to stuff my sock into the top of the second one to keep it from going flat.
Beers on the dock. And we finally relaxed.
After our beers, Ed Shepherd called to be sure he couldn't help us in some way - we'd be visiting him and Cathy the next day. I tried over and over to tell him we were at "Duck Puddle Campground" but he could not year or understand me. Laurie and I were dying laughing as we walked around the camp with me yelling "Duck like the bird" over and over.
We built a fire, cooked some freeze dried veggie chili (for me) and got a pizza from the camp store (for Laurie) and played "golf" at our table until it was time to collapse into bed for the night. The rain came soon after and apparently really came down. I could tell in the morning from all of the mud splashed on the tent, but I had no clue. I thought I woke often, but apparently not that often. When I woke it was sopping outside, still raining, and only in the low 50s. Chilly!
DAY2 - PEMAQUID LIGHT AND BACK - 46 miles, 2,862 ft
The next morning was leisurely. When I first woke I thought we might have to skip our ride to the lighthouse and to see the Shepherds. But we hatched a plan to leave around noon and hope we'd ride out of the rain.
It was 15-17 miles to the Shepherds, so the ride felt very manageable despite the threat of rain.
So many cemeteries. How do they dig the holes in all that rock?
This made me think of Florida's Biscayne Bay - which I was thinking was Biscay.
One of many hills we climbed that day.
I thought this was such a strange sign.
The Shepherd's house blew us away. I had no idea it would be so beautiful. We arrived on the doorstep sopping wet, but I'd warned them about that. We had brought a change of clothes that we put on while our biking clothes dried.
This was the view from the workbench in the garage. I loved this. Cathy Shepherd's father bought the house after the war in 1945, but she didn't say who built it. I would love to hear that story.
It was a joyous visit. Hearing their voices, they sounded just like they did when I was a kid. We only knew them for 3 years, but it was such a special time. We ate delicious cinnamon rolls and drank tea and had a wonderful time telling old stories and catching up on everyone's lives.
This is the view from their front porch and living room.
Ed took this picture of us as we took off. He and Cathy were so cute fumbling around with the phones and cameras. Then we rode around the loop they lived on to see the views on our way out. When we came back around, Ed was standing on the porch waiting to wave us off. So sweet.
I just kept taking pictures of the same things because it was so beautiful and it seemed impossible to capture the full effect.
This was the view from across the bay. The Shepherd's house is directly across the way with the garage sticking out over the cliff.
We got carried away at the Shepherd's, especially after Georgia's son showed up with Georgia's coworker who happened to live down the street from us and who owns the restaurant Oh George! After we drove away and were passing by Shaw's Lobster pound, I realized the time: 5pm. We barely had time to get to the lighthouse and home before dark. So the meal at Shaw's turned into a quick bowl of soup that we practically drank.
 |
| selfie courtesy of Laurie |
Then it was on to Pemaquid Point lighthouse. The ominous skies made for an interesting backdrop - and the weather was cool and breezy, which was nice.
I love this picture of our bikes that Laurie took.
The sky made for some interesting lighthouse pics.
Laurie trying to have a quick moment on the rocks. It was a shame we had to rush because this is a place you could definitely hang out for a while. I remember that Steve and I walked to the end of the rocks when we came years ago. This time, we had no time.
We got home in record time--after a bit of panic riding by Laurie--by flying up route 132, which is the main road to the point (so it was flatter and less windy). We had over 30 minutes before dark and even got to see a sunset.
 |
| Thanks Laurie for running down to the dock to take this great pic. |
Good old campsite #7 had never looked so good.
We bought a few beers and came back from the showers to find our friendly neighbor had made our fire for us. Then they also lent us chairs so we could sit by the fire and keep warm. The day before, they lent a bottle opener and gave us kindling and newspaper and a few logs to get our fire going before our wood delivery arrived. The woman even offered to go to the grocery store for us. So nice!
And we can't forget the fireworks! All pics courtesy of Laurie.
DAY 3: DUCKPUDDLE TO CAMDEN - 56 miles, 3,888 ft.
Cute house in the town of Waldoboro. Have I mentioned how on the first day we thought Maine was full of purple houses, then discovered they were all blue or gray and only looked purple because of our red tinted glasses! With regular sunglasses on, we saw everything for what it was. This door was actually purple!
I will have to learn how to take pictures that accurately portray hills--because this does not do justice at all to the torture that Waldoboro brought us.
Tiger lillies are a thing in Maine. They had just begun to pass their prime, but they were everywhere.
And then it looks like Maine again with the water and the harbor.
After the disappointment of Moody's being closed, we hoped to eat at a little cafe in Thomaston, but that too was closed--this time because of the observance of July 4. We wondered if this would be a problem all day and settled for tuna subs from an open Pizzeria.
Back on the road, we crossed a little bridge through town. Most of the little villages had some sort of bridge as they were centered around harbors located on the fingers of water reaching everywhere into the Maine coastline.
 |
| Owls Head Public Library |
There was a lobster pound in Owls Head that I'd forgotten about because I thought we'd be eating at Moody's that morning. We didn't stop because we'd already eaten our tuna subs at the pizza place. And meanwhile, I still had half of my sub roasting in the pannier!
The harbor at Owls Head.
In Owls Head park, we had to walk our bikes down a gravel road to get to the coast and the lighthouse. Pushing those bikes up hills is surprisingly hard.
And then we had to walk up the steps! Elevator anyone?
I don't know why I bother with pano shots. I always go to far and bend the picture.
Unknown mountain in the distance.
The blue sky was pretty incredible.
We rested in the park a while and regrouped - forming a plan for the afternoon: where to eat in Camden, where to get my bike fixed. I hadn't told Laurie, but my gear shift cable was fraying. I thought I had a little time left, but the reality was that it could snap at anytime. If it did, my bike would be nearly unridable because I'd be stuck in one gear.
By some miracle, I found I bike shop open about 10 miles up the road on our route. I couldn't believe it because it was a holiday and it was getting late in the afternoon. I called and they said they could fix my bike on the spot, so instead of following our route, we cruised straight up route 1 to the shop in Rockport.
Camden was a zoo, and I think this crowded harbor pic shows that well. Also, not our style. Everyone looked like they'd just come off a yacht. Many people were rude in the street--intent on their destination and unyielding on their path. The place dripped with entitlement.
We hid our bikes in a parking lot a few blocks out of town then made a reservation to eat outside at a brewery. We decided to spend the 45-60 min wait on a hillside park bench looking over the harbor.
On our walk through town we met a pair of cyclists who had arrived that afternoon from Bangor (pronounced "bang" "gore" - we learned). They must have had a hotel, however, because they were dressed in pressed linen and showered and beautiful. We were smelly in our lycra and bandanas.
We met another guy who asked about our trip and said, "Wow, I could never do that. But I LOVE that you are!" I was struck by this sentiment on the trip: it seemed to bring a lot of joy to other people to see us undertaking this adventure. As if they could all live vicariously through us. Many people would look at us with a sympathetic smile, like they'd look at someone with a cute dog or a crying baby.
At dinner, Laurie got a salad and I got fish tacos - both light meals because I'd psyched us out that there would be a huge hill going out of town for 2 miles up to Camden Hills State Park. We ordered crab dip and our second beer to go, then hauled them up the hill, which turned out to be easier than I thought and less than 2 miles. These are the kinds of mistakes I like to make!
I loved the campground because it was spacious and offered respite from the chaos of Camden. Also, I enjoy the tacky activity at a place like Duck Puddle (I chose it for that reason), but I don't want to always camp that way. State and national parks can be much more about the natural experience, and that's how I felt here. Woods, woods, and more woods.
DAY 4: CAMDEN TO VERONA ISLAND - 44 miles, 2,300 ft
My campsite was flat (unlike Duck Puddle), and the place so quiet. I slept my best night's sleep since arriving (I hadn't slept well at Cathy's because I was worried about the many details of the trip). Look how puffy my eyes are!
The night before, I'd been writing with a small lantern in my tent. The light attracted the brown-tailed moths that had infested the area that year. The hairs of the caterpillar can be irritating to skin and lungs, but the moths cause no trouble. At night, they fluttered around my head on the outside of the mesh top of my tent. In the morning, a few remained when I removed the fly.
I could have hung around and sipped hot chocolate all morning. But we had an appointment with a coffee shop, and Laurie was itching to go, so we packed up and headed out to this cute little spot.
I ordered a matcha latte to try something different because I can't have coffee. But just before I drank it I looked it up to see exactly what it is. Turns out this is a drink to stimulate digestion. Aaah! This is not a thing I wanted ever - and esp. not on a long bike ride. So I had to dump my nice hot drink in the grass. Very sad.
Strange bit of sculpture at the gift shop across the way.
And we were off for the most dangerous stretch of road on the trip. Four miles of windy hills with no shoulder and speeding trucks. I knew this section might be a problem but still thought it a better alternative to riding back down into Camden and then back up a different hill on a back road. But in retrospect, this was not a smart place to ride. At one point, a tractor trailer passed us a full speed and literally ran two oncoming cars off the road. I was glad the guy gave us the room we needed, but not at the expense of killing another motorist. It was a hairy moment.
After the 4 scary miles, we rolled down a steep hill into Lincolnville where we passed another lobster pound.
We got a small taste of what wooded Maine looks like. I've always wanted to go a visit the mountains rather than the coast.
It seems the teens in small-town Maine need something to occupy their time. Skid marks like this were a regular thing - and these are among the more tame.
Both of the following pics show the easy rolling nature of this day's ride. Long straight stretches with a moderate hill in the middle of it - often with the downhill giving enough oomph to get up the next hill without much work. At one point, we rode upwards of 20 mph over rolling hills with a general downhill grade for a couple of miles.
In one area of this ride we passed a spate of Trump signs. Then this hand-scrawled sign about Joe Biden destroying America. It was the only overtly negative political moment of the trip. And we felt a bit isolated here with the few big pickups that drove past with their gun racks and American flags. But no one bothered us.
More beautiful cemeteries.
And then, just after the area that felt a little isolated and creepy with the weird sign about Joe Biden, we came into a much different mood. First, I saw neighborhood signs supporting a green energy corridor. Then we came to a bike lane! It was the first we came across in Maine, despite the areas that appeared to encourage cycling.
Then we arrived in the decidedly hippie town of Belfast. There were art galleries, a pot shop, cool coffee shops and cafes, people in funky clothes, public art/sculpture, and music. This was an old theater that was still running.
And then the town had also built a pedestrian walkway across a thin finger of the Penobscot Bay. We walked across this to the lobster pound on the other side.
I took this because you can see the little red building in the distance that is Young's Lobster Pound. That is where we were headed for lunch.
Another view of the harbor - at low tide.
This was the sign for a bed and breakfast. What a great name: Nightfall. And they turned this old tree stump into a piece of art.
This is inside the lobster pound. Very unpretentious. You just walk up and order with the lobsters swimming in buckets all around you. The guys behind the counter give you the number attached to a big net bag. That number could be anything from a simple "2" to "22,000" or whatever. I thought this was pretty funny, to hear "Number 5,060!" hollered out over the loudspeaker.
Young's was very relaxed - no huge crowds, plenty of seating, a beautiful view. This is our table. We were so happy I took about 1,000 pics.
And then our lobster was so cute, I felt bad...
And then more pics of the same things because the sun came out...I'm not sure why I keep them all.
And then in true form, a rich lobster meal necessitated a trip to the bathroom. Thank you Moose Point State Park for providing a beautiful view with public restrooms in the right place at the right time.
I wonder who lives in all these old places. It must cost a fortune to keep them up.
And just as I'm having that thought, we came across this old place, abandoned with paint peeling and an old truck in the driveway that looked like it was left there in 1960. If I was a short story writer, surely this would be fodder for something interesting.
After Belfast, we hit the really nice rolling hills. We rode route 1 all the way into Bucksport/Verona Island, but it was ok. We had a wide shoulder, the traffic was infrequent, and the hills were long on a low grade. Plus the sky, the trees, the mountains.
And then the bridge. I saw a sign that said "scenic overlook ahead" and Laurie said, "for what?" I thought, oh dear, she's forgotten. I suppose that was a good thing, that she hadn't spent the day worrying about this end to the riding, but now, here it was on full display.
Laurie didn't linger long over the view. I told her to get it over with and she did, speeding off to get to the other side before she could change her mind.
I stayed a chatted with a few folks about our trip first.
That is Laurie in the distance speeding past the cut rocks leading up to the bridge.
By the time I got to the bridge and took this pic, Laurie was almost all the way across. So I have no pics of her.
The cars in this one give you a little perspective on the size of things.
And then it was downhill to Verona Island! This was our first downhill in the final miles of a ride. The ride to duck puddle involved one of the hardest hills of the trip, and the ride to Camden was up for at least a mile.
When we arrived at the Fort Knox Inn with our view of the water, bridge and fort, Laurie was so surprised. She admitted that no only did she not know we'd have a view, she also didn't know we were staying in a hotel for one of our nights. 😮
This is our view of the bridge through our window.
And the view the next morning showing the nearby fort that was built in 1844 to protect the Penobscot River Valley from the Brits. I'm not sure that it ever saw any action.
We'd hoped to eat at the local brewery, Friars, which is run by monks who make all of the beer and food, but sadly, it was closed on Tuesdays. This was our second great restaurant disappointment (after Moody's) but we recovered better this time. So AGAIN, we ate at a pizza place. This was also a theme in the keys ride where we ate at 3 Italian restaurants.
Laurie had what she said was one of the best calzones of her life, so I guess we didn't suffer too much.
This is also a view of the harbor from our window - just to the right of the bridge and fort.
Our hotel.
I missed the sunrise.
DAY 5: VERONA ISLAND TO ACADIA, 34 MILES, 2,040 ft.
Happy birthday Laurie! 🎂🎈🎈🎈
I couldn't do butter - should have thought to get some at the pizza place the night before - rats. But I did find a Dunkin Donuts so she could get her fave chocolate cake donut. Why don't I have a picture of that?
We looked forward to what we hoped would be an easy ride - less elevation, fewer miles. I wondered if that's how it would play out when Laurie's bike fell over in the Dunkin parking lot and bent her handlebars significantly. It seemed an ill-fated start.
It was, however, another beautiful day.
Almost the entire ride took place on Route 1 and then Route 3 because this is the only way to get to Acadia. But again the shoulder was wide and the traffic sparse, so it was very pleasant. All of my pictures are of these kinds of sweeping views with varying degrees of big hills.
At one point, the route diverted from Route 1. We went from relief to dismay as we hit the hardest hill of the week. I did not even try to ride up it. The grade was too steep, so I worried I'd pull something or lose control and tip over. So we walked.
This was supposed to be a picture of me saying "yikes!" about the hill, but it turned out to be a really ugly pic of my face and then a hilariously strange pic of Laurie pushing her bike. What is she doing?!
A cool treehouse.
And then back to Route 1. I love this picture of a long downhill.
When you see a sculpture of a guy diving into a toilet, there's not much choice but to take a picture.
This little collection of cabins appeared on "Twin Hill Road." We had just come up one hill, so we knew another was to come.
The first.
The twin.
And then we were in Ellsworth and I faced the moment of truth. Would my car still be in the Walmart parking lot?
Yes, yes it would!
Finding the Walmart in Ellsworth was suprisingly difficult. Not because we didn't know where it was, but because the roads were so busy, and the sidewalks so narrow, and the hills so steep. I didn't remember it that way from when I drove in the week before. 😐
During our trek to Walmart, however, we met another cyclist. Adam from Redeeming Eden, who is riding around the country in the fashion of Forest Gump's walk, raising money to build an addiction recovery center. He had given a talk focused on dragonflies in the morning and saw Laurie's dragonfly necklace, which inspired him to give her $20 for her birthday lunch. Really nice guy, and so inspiring to meet all these people! I forgot to mention that we also met a guy named Ralph at Young's Lobster Pound.
We left the car so that we could arrive by bike. But perhaps that wasn't the best choice...
We arrived on Acadia exhausted. And like Duck Puddle, we let ourselves relax too soon. Once on the island there were quite a few hills. And cell service disappeared completely. And my directions got weird. For the first time in the week I wasn't sure where we were and couldn't confirm it. We had to ride some big hills without knowing if we were going the wrong way. But ultimately, we arrived to our beautiful campsite in Mount Desert Campground. Yay!
Finally, we found the boats after spending 30 minutes of our rental time looking for them.
We settled on sea kayaks and set out in the sound.
The water was pretty, but there was a pretty good current in the waterway, so it was hard to take pics. I also worried about getting too far away because we'd have to go against the current to get back.
This is a ridiculously bad picture of me.
Laurie didn't like this pic - she said it looked like she was at Disney World. Maybe because of the floating doc in the background? It was so hard to see in the bright light, so composition was challenging.
Somehow I beached myself on a rock in the middle of the channel - it was covered with weeds so I thought I was kayaking through a weed bed. But how random I hit this one spot. Then later, a seal had the same idea. We watched him appear to be floating on top of the water with his nose and tale out and his belly turned to the sun. Very cute.
We had a great dinner in Bar Harbor that night at the SideStreet Cafe. We both got the haddock sandwich - the second of the week. It was supposed to have capers and maple sauce, which I thought was intriguing, but I only got one brief taste of that.
We caught a beautiful sunset at Bar Harbor. But then we had to find a ride home. It was a nervous hour while we waited to see if Point-2-Point Taxi would take us home at 10pm.
I slept great on the flat surface of our tent platform and we got up to see the Park Loop Road. First, pastries and coffee/tea at the campground "gathering place." Then Laurie got the car. Then we tried to drive the loop road. But it was one of those days. Crowded overlooks we couldn't park at, and a loop that seemed to lead perpetually back to the visitor center. I don't know why I couldn't figure it out. But eventually, the road we were on kicked us out of the park. At that point, we gave up and moved on to do other things.
I found the YouTube channel for Adam, the guy we met in Ellsworth who was raising money to build a rehab center. He biked down Cadillac Mountain and then around park loop road. So here is a video of what we missed!
After the debacle at the Park Loop Trail, we headed to Abel's Lobster Pound where I told Laurie to expect a long wait. But we were determined to have lobster, so it didn't matter.
And guess what? No wait at all. We walked in, got seated at a table with a great view, and ordered clam cakes right off the bat.
We had beers, lobster, steamers, and clam cakes. It was all delicious - made my day!
After lunch, we decided to drive to Bass Harbor Light. It was further than I thought - at least a half hour, but we passed a beautiful beach on the way. Pebbles, pebbles, pebbles.
There was a huge line to get into the Bass Harbor parking lot - but it wasn't as bad as it looked because cars make a longer line than people. We waited about 15 minutes before we could park, but it felt worth it to me. We climbed down on the rocks and hung out a bit. This was our view of the lighthouse.
I haven't mentioned that rain and storms threatened our final days in Acadia. We were supposed to stay until Saturday, but then rain all day Friday prompted a plan to leave Friday morning. But then on Thursday we learned the storms would come in on Friday morning early - if not Thursday evening. Rather than stay and wait for the storm to arrive then pack up in the rain, we made a quick shopping trip to Bar Harbor for gifts, then went back to the campground and packed up for home. In the end we only slept in Acadia for one night, which was a bummer, but the weather made it time to go.
We left town at 6:15pm, got dinner at a cool burrito place in Ellsworth, then hit the road for Brunswick where we met Cathy on the side of the road to collect the belongings we left at her house. We drove until 1am when we arrived in Massachusetts someone - forgotten where.
The next day, another 11 hour drive home because of traffic. And that was it!
When I unpacked, I found this bit of garp left in my bag. I'd say that is some awesome planning!
The route from Brunswick to Acadia.
Distance: 225 miles
Speed: 11ish mph
Elevation: 2000-3800 per day
