Boothbay, Maine to Portland, Oregon
Thursday, August 13, 1998 - Day 63 - 118.3 miles - to Boothbay, Maine.
This was one of our epic days, across the State of Maine in one day of 118 miles. We had decided to make Boothbay Harbor, ME our Maine destination. As we got on the road today the skies were blue and the sun was shining, it would be a long day if we were to reach the East Coast. As we approached the Maine state line there was some light fog. We had hills all day. One hill looked as steep as the one that I had walked back on day 52, this time I was ready and with a strong determination I pedaled up it. It was not easy but I made it. Finally my confidence was back, although I had ridden many hills between the two, this was a steep hill. It was a great day for riding.
We followed the Adventure Cycling route to Norway, ME where we took an urban shortcut through Auburn, ME and Lewiston, ME. This saved us a half-dozen miles and some hills, returning to the official route at Sabattus, ME. At Dresden, ME we left the Adventure Cycling route for the last time as we headed SE towards Boothbay, ME.
Today, ever so often I got a tear in my eye as I realized that my dream was about to come true, I made it. After my bike accident, in April 1994, there were those who wonder if I would be able to ever accomplish this dream. Even my surgeon would tell me that he did not have high hopes for me. But he added that of all his patients there are two that he would never doubt that they could do what they put their mind to, the other patient is Picabo Street.
Our camp was at Little Ponderosa Campground, just 5 miles from the Maine Coast. When we check-in and they asked how many nights we were going to stay, I said "one" and David said "two." David had a plan which he had not shared with me. He had hoped to push hard today, we did, so that we could spend two days on the coast in hopes of hooking up with Scott and the girls. We did not know exactly where Scott was, but we did know that he was on the Maine Coast. The next day David would write a message on the road just incase Scott and the girls came by, they did not. This was our longest day in the saddle, 9 hours and 28 minutes.
Friday, August 14, 1998 - Day 64 - 45.7 miles - around Boothbay, Maine.
Today, we were now tourist. This day, again, was sunny and with blue skies. We rode to breakfast, leaving out tents set-up which was nice. The bikes were light and fast. After eating we headed for the coast. There was one last hill, three tens of a mile long, before we full filled our main objective reaching the Atlantic Ocean. We now have gone COAST-TO-COAST. Every since Cleveland, OH we had kidded with each other where the last hill would be. As the days went by we agreed that the last hill would be the one we had to climb in order to see the Atlantic Coast, I guess we were right.
We rode all around the bay, one side to the other. We watched the fishermen harvest lobsters, ate fish and chips for lunch, visited old grave sites, bought and sent postcards, ate Black Raspberry ice cream, and people watched. It was a fun day. I also bought my second souvenir a coffee cup from Maine. I had thoughts of buying a cup in each state but it would have been difficult due to being on back roads and small towns. Since I have been home I found, at a Goodwill type store, e Pennsylvania and Vermont cups while my sister-in-law found Minnesota for me.. All my family are looking for me, it's a game that they all seem to like. There are only two rules, one, the cup can't cost over $1.00 and two, it has to be a state cup (not a city, I found a New York, New York cup, which would be NY city). The cup needs to be usable, because I do drink out of them. I also though it would be fun to find a licence plate for each state that we rode through. I did see many of the states licence plates, but not all, along side the road but just did not want to stop or carry the plates. I did carry a Maine plate for a few miles but then returned it back to the side of the road.
When we returned to our camp, late in the afternoon, the owner of the campground was waiting for us. The local newspaper, Boothbay Register, wanted to do an article about us. It was to late for the reported to come out to the campground so the owner and his wife did the interview and pictures would be taken the next morning when the bikes would be loaded. He said that he would send us a copy of the paper, sure where have I heard that before. I was wrong he send a copy and the article and picture was pretty good. It was a fun day.
Saturday, August 15, 1998 - Day 65 - 90.06 miles - to Kennebunkport, Maine.
We left Boothbay, ME to travel the Coast of Maine south towards Boston, MA. U.S. Hwy 1 was very busy and we were seeing loaded bikers heading North, none of whom stopped to visit and talk. With the heavy traffic, there was reluctance on anyone's part to dash across the road. The natural bicyclist's companionship we felt on the coast-to-coast tour just wasn't there. There was a light head wind most of the day.
The police threw us off of U.S. 1 near Bath, ME we and had to negotiate other streets until south of Brunswick, ME. I had noticed the "no bikes" sign and tried yelling to David but he was head- down rushing forward and was chased with siren blaring off the road. I had already turned back. It was all very confusing with I-95 in the area and U.S. 1 turning into bike less expressway for short distances and then reverting back. I did find that the East Coast and the West Coast were the same, in respect to the signs that kick you off the road being well places but once off the signs to help you find your way do not exists.
In Freeport, ME we encountered hoards of people and many large buildings. We soon found out that this was the home of L. L. Bean. We left town as fast as we could pedal as the crowds made us uncomfortable. We rode on to Portland, ME where I found a quarter in the street. I felt just like I was at home, where I find money on every ride. David took my picture feigning a confused state as I live in another Portland, OR. I told David, the other Portland in Oregon was settled by people who, half of them wanted to call the city Boston and the other half wanted Portland. Portland won. As we rode through Scarborough, ME I found my second bandanna, a red one.
We stayed in Salty Acres campground near Cape Porpoise, ME just short of Kennebunk, ME. This was a busy tourist place and the local mostly seafood (lobster) restaurants did not appeal to us. So we found a pizza place that was cheap and pretty good. I am not fond of lobster but wish I could have found someplace that would sell me just a taste so I could say that I had a lobster in Maine. After dinner David went on for 20 more miles while I rode back to our camp.
When David returned he would tell me that he rode down the road to Kennebunkport, Me it was bustling and interesting and he would remember that the summer home of President Bush was near by. He rode out to what he assumed was the Bush residence, a sprawling modern home on a fortified peninsula and took a picture.
Heavy rain are predicted for tonight and it looked like we were in for it.
Sunday, August 16, 1998 - Day 66 - 76.46 miles - to Salisbury, Massachusetts.
The heavy rain predicted for last night never came and the day dawned clear. We rode passed the Bush residence so I could see it and on to Kennebunkport and found breakfast. This restaurant had the weirdest salt and pepper shakers. Every set on every table was different and very kitsch. As we rode along the Maine coast I kept seeing road side vendors selling "Maine Blueberries." This restaurant had blueberry pancakes. If I could not eat a Maine lobster at lease I could have some Maine blueberry pancakes. So, I ordered them. While the server was bring us more coffee and before the pancakes arrived I asked her if these were real blueberries from Maine. You guess it, no they were not. Sometimes you just can't win. The pancakes were very good.
We were able to get off of U.S. 1 with it's heavy traffic and found nice rolling roads through woods and along the shore. We saw other presumably local riders carrying no gear on their bikes for a Sunday ride. We entered Portsmith, NH. Felt strange to be back in New Hampshire which has a few miles of Atlantic Ocean shoreline. We left U.S. 1 again for the shore and found that Rye Beach, NH was nice but Hampton Beach, NH was pandemonium. It was a Summer Sunday and everyone east of the Mississippi and driving in the White Mountains was there.
We viewed the spectacle awhile and departed for a quieter Salisbury Beach, MA and it's near by State Reservation campground. In contrast to Hampton, NH Salisbury Beach, MA looked like war's aftermath with boarded up shops and closed amusement parks. There was not a decent restaurant in town so we rode back up the road to find dinner. The campground was only $7.00 and it looked like it. There was not a clean site in the place. Ours still had all the trash from who every was there last. It lacked any good grass and David's attempt to find some put his tent, too close to our neighbors fire-ring which he promised would be illuminating. He had to pull stakes and drag the tent elsewhere. Our other neighbor dumped their kid's plastic swimming pool flooding the area around us. After dinner David wanted to look around Salisbury Beach, MA again so I rode back towards camp alone. I saw a sign that advertised ice cream just past the turn off to the campground and decided to see what they had. Sure enough they had my favorite, Black Raspberry. I got a chance to share our adventure with other customers while I enjoyed my ice cream. It wasn't long before David showed up and had a ice cream. We rode back to camp together and turn in.
Monday, August 17, 1998 - Day 67 - 54.61 miles - to Boston, Massachusetts.
We got on the road at first light for what was suppose to be an easy 40-mile ride into Boston, MA. David had visited Boston, MA before and had a friend who told him that the State should be called "Nastychussetts." It wasn't bad at first even though we were on a beeline down U.S. 1. The sky was threatening and we did not want to chance a circuitous route. We also notice that I- 95 paralleled U.S. 1 very close and should have most of the traffic. We left U.S. 1 for Beverly, MA and Salem, MA and, just beyond, the skies opened up. First we sheltered at an animal shelter, but the barking was worse and the shelter was not that good. During a brief lull, we made a run for it and found an overhang at a supermarket in Lynn, MA. This was our "home" for the next 4 hours or so as the rain turned into a gully washer and never quit. We should have stayed at the animal shelter. This supermarket had both the oddest customers and the oddest employees. A security man kept coming out and watching us with suspicious sideways glances. He somehow knew we planned to steal all potted plants that were out in front of the store. I really think he wanted to just get in a smoke and we gave him a good reason for it. Every half hour or so, we went in for food.
Someone told us that there is a commuter train into Boston, MA and that they take bikes in off hours. After a half hour of trying to find a phone number to confirm this, no one in or out of the store could find the number, we suited up and rode the wet distance. Found the station easily and carried the bikes up two flights of steps, David had to help me. A fellow on the platform said these trains have conductors that will check for a bike permit. We could not buy a permit except by mail. He also said they will usually allow exceptions and it is up to the conductor. We were hoping for the exception. After all it was obvious that we were out of towner's and would be a one way rider. Soon the train came. The door opened and we barely said a word (nicely) when the conductor went ballistic yelling about his job being on the line or something similar, and the nearly empty train pulled away without us. Nastychussetts. Ponder. Should we wait for the next one and try again or just give up and slosh into Boston, MA? We decide to slosh and carried the loaded bikes down the steps and off the platform. We headed for Boston, MA in a good rain.
The roads got very busy as we approached Boston, MA and puddles were everywhere. I was in position behind David, and could see the cars and trucks swerving closer as they passed to effect a better splash him. Nastychussetts. David couldn't keep the map out as it would have turned to cooked matzo. So we got lost. First, biking in the Boston, MA area and around it's rivers and harbors requires creative navigation as many main roads and bridges don't allow bikes. Second, the ones that do allow bikes, do strange things like disappearing underground (Mass Hwy 99). There was a certain reluctance to follow them in heavy traffic and rain as they plunged into dark tunnels. Crossing a bridge, David pasted a walker and got a "yes" to his question "is this Boston?" Well, close but no prize. Nothing on the map matched the street signs and the sun was not visible. It was still raining. We wandered around for a while before someone told us we were in Cambridge, MA. Found another bridge to Boston, MA and the bike path along the correct side of the Charles River. It still took a few times around the block in the confusing maze of wet busy and honking Nastychussetts traffic streets tp find the Hostel . The Hostel was a pandemonium of people trying to check in but it had a dry basement workshop where, upon cleaning ourselves and regaining some semblance of humanity, we cleaned our bikes. Getting to the workshop, from the outside, was a obstacle course in it's self, as there were large plastic bags of trash covering the steps that lead down to entrance. I was also able to hang up my tent and fly to dry.
The Boston transit system was not through frustrating David. The same transit company that operates trains you can't take also runs a ferry from downtown to Logan airport across the bay. Since that was his destination for the morrow and he wanted to avoid the circuitous and likely confusing route bikes must take, he tried to call them after finding the number in a brochure at the Hostel. Apparently, passes are required there too. All he could get was a series of instructions that maddeningly send you toning all the phone buttons while eating up three of David's quarters. He finally got a message that the information number is closed until tomorrow morning and that he could leave a message. He did just that. Nastydavid. My way home was with Amtrak, four miles from the Hostel and without any rivers or bridges to cross.
Dry and happy, one of us was happy, we walked to dinner and around town a little. The Hostel had e-mail service so I sent off several to family members. Our room was full, 6 persons, so there was not a lot of room for hanging out wet cloths to dry. In spite of everything we were in Boston, MA on the day we had to be there. Off to sleep we went, the best we could.
Tuesday, August 18, 1998 - Day 68 - 4.00 miles - to the Amtrak station, Boston, MA.
Our final day was one of parting and finding our respective ways to transportation. David's time in Boston, MA was not as a happy as mine was. We found breakfast at a Greek restaurant near the Hostel and then rode to a separation point where David crossed the bridge to Cambridge and I could turn south for the Amtrak station. David and I said our goodbys, I was very anticlimactic after all we had been through together. But what could you do but say "goodby and have a safe trip home."
David crossed the bridge over the Charleston River and found his 15 mile long-way ride to the airport getting only slightly lost. The sun was out and he could navigate celestially and knowing the direction he wanted. David was a good navigator and I would call him "David the Pathfinder."
I had mapped my 4 miles across this madhouse town of honking cars and jay walking pedestrian who could not tell the difference between a red or green light, so was not worried about getting lost. I stopped first at a store to buy strapping tape so I could seal the box that my bike would go in. They did not have what I wanted so I pushed my bike out of the store, yes I took it in with me. Outside a man came up to me a said "hi, do you remember me?" I had to say "no" as I really didn't. He went on to say that we talked up in Maine where he was on vacation. I acted like I remember him but really didn't. We chatted for a few minutes then off to work he went. As I stood there going through all the people who I had told about this tour, I just could not come up with him. Again it just goes to show that you don't unnoticed when your on a loaded bike.
My first two turns went well that the next turn was not there. How could a road not be there!!! I stopped and asked a cop and she said I was OK but the streets just change names from one block to the next. She pointed down a street and there was the train station, under construction. As I was walking my bike, it was to crowed to ride a tall black man asked me where I was going. I told him and he said "follow me," and I did. We talked as we walked along and I found out that he spent 10 years in Los Angeles, CA area, which was my home town. He was also fascinated with our cross country tour. He pointed to the stairs up to the train station but told me to take the ramp which was just around the corner. We stood there for 10 minutes or so a just talked. He wished me luck and he went off to work and I headed up the ramp.
It was a piece of cake to get my reservation confirmed and the bike packed in the box provided. I only had to remove the pedals and turn the handle bars. The attendant than gave me a box for all the gear to go into, which they took for no extra charge. The bike was $12.00 and the bike box was $5.00. I was on my own and free of the bike.
I walked around the city for 4 hours visiting, Boston Common, Boston Tea Party Ship, Old Granary Burial Ground and walked part of the Freedom Trail. I saw the grave of Paul Revere and Samuel Adams. I also walked by the Boston Marathon finish line. I loaded up on snacks, apples, raisins, candy and peanut butter crackers for the trip home. As I return to the train station I stood along side a cop, at a very bust intersection, and watch the pedestrian walk against the red light, even when traffic was coming. I asked the cop if anyone every gets hit, he said, "yes, but this is Boston." I boarded the train at 3:41 PM, one minute late, and headed west.
The first part of the trip home would be on the "Lake Shore Limited" from Boston, MA to Chicago, IL and the second part would be on the "Empire Builder" from Chicago, IL to Portland, OR. The whole ride would take just short of three days, which was about a half-a-day longer than planned.
Around Pittsfield, MA it started to rain and continued on and off through the night. We could not eat dinner as there would be on dining car until we reached Albany, NY when the train from New York, which had the dining car joined with ours. This would be around 10 PM, to late for me to eat.
Wednesday, August 19, 1998 - Day 69 - on Amtrak to Portland, Oregon
The first night on the train was hell, I could not sleep at all. When I called, before leaving Portland, Amtrak told me that the seats decline so you can sleep. The problem was that the seat just would not decline enough. I could not get comfortable, especially with my bad hip. The train was so crowded that you could not take two seats. So I spent the night in the lounge car getting about 30 minutes sleep.
While the nights on the train was no fun the days were. I met other bikers. The tandem couple we had been chasing at the end of our tour turned out to be Wayne and Penny from Carson City, NV and not the Sacramento, CA couple we had left in Curlew, WA. They were also pulling a BOB trailer and left Seattle on June 1. They told me that the gravel road west of Glacier Park was OK riding. I also met Bonnie from Eugene, OR who had ridden the GTE Big Ride. She described it as "hell with rain, hale , snow and bitter cold weather." She also said that they rode through almost every big city that was possible, where there were numerous accidents. She went on to say that sometimes there was not enough food for the last ones in. Unlike us, that had to ride each day and could not just sit out bad weather. We would all have dinner each night together. It was fun to talk to others who had done what David and I had just done.
We were 2.5 hours late into Chicago, IL and had to run to catch the next train. I was worried that my bike would not make it, but it was there when I reached Portland, OR. When we passed through St. Paul-Minneapolis, MN there was a great thunder and lighting storm with heavy rain.
Thursday, August 20, 1998 - Day 70 - on Amtrak to Portland, Oregon
The part from Grand Forks,ND to Sandpoint, ID was interesting. While the train was along the road that we rode on much of the time I was surprised to see how often the road was not in site. I saw only two rides, they were a male and female heading east on single bikes. About 30 minutes (train speed) east of Malta we lost the car that I was on, it had a hot axel. So they took it out of service and left it on a siding in no-mans-land. The train then was even more crowded. Due to the lost car and the number of people that was expected to get on the train down the track, they had 9 more people than there were seats for, so they asked for volunteers to give up their seat and spent the rest of the trip in the lounge car. Since I spent most of the trip there anyway I gave up my seat.
Friday, August 21, 1998 - Day 71 - home, Portland, Oregon
Tired, but happy to be home we pulled into Portland, OR. My wife was there to meet me. The bike arrived safe and in good shape. I loaded up the van and headed west for home. It was finally over. Funny how you get back to "normal" so fast.
Postscript
Scott and the girls, Sarah and Lisa made to Quoddy Head State Park near Lubec, ME. This is well NE of Bar Harbor and as far East as it is possible to go in the continental USA. Their route, after leaving us at Winnipeg, was: across Michigan's Upper Peninsula, Sault Ste. Marie, part of the Trans-Canada (CH-17) to Manitoulin Island, the ferry to the Bruce Peninsula (between Lake George & Huron), Niagara Falls, and on to New England. They arrived in Boston August 24th (7 days after we did) and had 4787 miles.
Jason also made it to Quoddy Head. He was within a day or two of Scott and the girls, as they all found this out later. How long he rode with Scott, after leaving Winnipeg is still unknown. He also went across Michigan's Upper Peninsula, Sault Ste. Marie, part of the Trans-Canada (CH- 17). He described the Trans-Canada as very bad and "bumming him out over the road, the cars, the hills and the people." He met a girl there and started "free camping" which I assume is pulling over along the side of the road and camping as out-of-sight as possible. He apparently did not do the Manitoulin Island / Bruce Peninsula route as he reported stopping in Ottawa before dropping down into NY State. In Vermont, he met a Fife & Drum Corps group which "adopted" him, he is that kind of guy, and let him participate in their activities and parades. He did Kancamagus Pass in NH's White Mountains as did David and I, but, unlike our uneventful ride, he saw moose and bear. After Quoddy Head, ME, he biked to Banger, ME where he caught a bus for home in Michigan. He describes the tour as "the best time of his life." In case you don't remember he turned 27 while on tour and I turned 62.
Dave and Julia ran into the same rainstorm we had after Grand Forks, ND and then reported that they then had no bad weather all the rest of the way to Vermont. They met two bikers from Boston, MA in Floodwood, MN and rode with them for 10 days. Like Scott, they did Michigan's Upper Peninsula, Manitoulin Island the Bruce Peninsula and Niagara Falls. Like Jason, they did not like the stretch of the Trans-Canada and reported they "were scared for their lives." New York State was "bikers paradise" and they arrived in Vermont two weeks before we did. They describes their wedding as "perfect."
David, made it home to join friends from Los Angeles for a tour of southern Minnesota. He continues to ride between jobs for clients and did a two-week tour of Tuscany, Italy in October with his wife Dana and five other bicyclists from the Arrowheads bike team. He ended the year with 14,274 miles and ride 68 centuries(+) for the year. David is also written up our tour in hopes of getting it published.
I finished the year with 11,062 miles in 1998. The breakdown of the miles is 11,000 for fun and 62 for my age. I have had, since being home, three flats all on my old bike (Capo). Yes, I remembered how to make the repair. Still no flats on the bike I took on this tour (Cannondale T- 1000). I have gained almost all my weight back, it was easy to do.
Summary
If you have gotten this far you must be a biker. This tour was without a doubt the trip of a life time, Jason was right. To be on the road and know that the next day you get to ride again is wonderful. I have never wanted any of my tours to end. Sure it was hard work, but what fun. If you are planning a tour and would like and help from me just send me an e-mail. I hope you enjoyed our tour as much as we did. Bye