July 14, 2019
Mainers
Naples to Brunswick
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Jackie’s avg speed: 8.9 mph
Scott’s avg speed: 10.5 mph
Weather: 60-81 degrees, breezy on the backroads
This was a first. We broke camp at 06:00 without making coffee and tea – we had run out of gas for the Primus. In Vacationland, we were counting on diners with early hours, and Annette’s did not disappoint. It’s conveniently situated on State Road 11, right on our route. Great buttermilk pancakes and omelettes.
The waiter had just taken our order when we saw another cyclist roll up to the door. We looked at his jeans and boots and figured he was a commuter. He came directly to our table. “Hey, you guys must be on some serious trek. I’m Wilson, by the way.” We introduced ourselves and said we had just a few days left on our journey.
Wilson then held forth about the thousands of miles he’s logged as a cyclist. He assured us he didn't ride long distances in Levis; he was obviously on his way to work somewhere. I made some general comment about millennials wanting to accumulate experience instead of possessions and he gave me a look. “Millennial? I’m 41.” I had him pegged for 30 max. He had some amazing stories, which we believed because of his physique. 5’7”, maybe 145 pounds, toned abs, arms, and thighs, generally youthful appearance. He looked like he spends a lot of time on a bike.
He lives to ride and takes occasional odd jobs to get enough money for food and supplies and goes back on the road. He travels light, a basket in front and just one small rack pack in back, with a light jacket, spare shirt, shorts, and socks. To save money, he finds places to stay from the “Warm Showers” association of volunteers who host cyclists passing through their area. He rides old bikes that he fixes himself. For some years, he had an old Trek that he customized to pull a trailer for his dog, Polo. Traveling with Polo was an instant bridge to connect with other people. And Wilson loves to talk about his adventures.
Among his exploits: riding 220 miles in one day when trying to complete all 237 miles of Missouri’s Katy Trail, the longest rails-to-trails project in the U.S. Riding from Portland, Oregon to the Dalles, then back to Portland to escort another rider to the Dalles. One winter, he retraced some of the Underground Railroad routes from Ontario to northern states and walked across the frozen Lake Erie as the slaves did to make it to Canada. He rode a one-speed across the White Mountains in New Hampshire. He’d been to Montana and ridden through the Judith Gap and Great Falls. He talked so fast and had such interesting stories to tell, I probably garbled the details. Meeting other cyclists always boosts our enthusiasm, and I wanted to listen longer. But we needed to keep moving, so we said goodbye. If others have the good fortune to meet Wilson, please pass greetings from Jackie and Scott.
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When we had crossed into Maine the day before, we expected some days of ease at the end of our journey. Ever hear the expression, never assume, it makes an ass out of u and me? That kind of sums up our situation. The hills on the way to Brunswick were among the toughest we crossed. Maine’s southern landscape is dotted with small lakes, rivers, and creeks that flow between all those hills. Over the course of the 50-mile day, we gained 3,215 feet in elevation and crossed a couple hills with a grade of 13 percent.
While sweating through the uphills, we were glad to be riding in shade. That’s a significant advantage of the small paved roads through the woods. However, the water in the shady woods breeds the biting insects that show up when you're pedaling slowly up a steep grade. They hovered and bobbed around my head, but the head net kept them out and kept me sane. That’s the smartest $3 investment of the trip.
These back roads also put us in contact with really nice Mainers. We came to a waypoint on the route where Danville Corner Road intersects Harmon Corner Road, just after a very difficult hill leading out of Danville. Scott stopped to catch his breath and a man and his wife puttering in their yard asked if he was okay. When I was rolling up, Paul urged us to come chat and get our water bottles refilled, and Brenda offered us a banana. We accepted both offers. A gazebo set among shade trees and furnished with comfy chairs was a perfect place for conversation. We took the webbed chairs with no upholstery, feeling a bit abashed about being so sweaty, even though Brenda assured us we could sit wherever we liked.
Whenever they see cyclists passing that curve in front of their home, Paul and Brenda invite them to take a break and sign their book. They told us about their sons and grandchildren, we talked about ours and life in Montana. They had been to Bozeman some years ago and enjoyed it. (We haven’t met anyone yet who had an unkind thing to say about our home state). Paul and Brenda met the actor Patrick Dempsey (“McDreamy” on Grey’s Anatomy) who was born and grew up in southern Maine. Dempsey’s mom died of cancer, so he organized a bike ride fundraiser that passed by Paul and Brenda’s home. Paul is a cancer survivor and has a photo with Dempsey from that ride. When I went inside to use the bathroom I met Mittens, the cat. Brenda said he was a great comfort to Paul when he was going through chemotherapy.
Paul and Brenda concurred that Maine secondary roads, and frequently primary roads, are in bad shape. We really enjoy the Mainers we meet but are not at all enthusiastic about the roads. Maine is the state with the worst roads of the trip.
In a few more miles Scott saw a man out chainsawing logs for firewood in a clearing by the road. Along our route, a lot of camp firewood was stacked by the road for sale and Scott wanted to know what types were preferred. So he asked the guy what kind of wood he was cutting up. Hard oak, because it has higher BTUs than soft woods and is plentiful. Stefan (phonetic spelling) has a wood burning boiler, so he stockpiles fuel to get through the winter, though he was quick to dismiss the small trees he was cutting that day as 'stove wood' which was too small for boiler wood. He was not a young man and carried a little extra weight. He sized up Scott and asked slyly, “How old are you?” 63. “How old do you think I am?” The quick thinking former diplomat said, oh, maybe 60. Stefan said he was 70, and complimented Scott on his diplomatic answer. I piped up and said that was our job before we retired. Stefan’s parents came from Poland, and he grew up speaking Polish. His brother has been back to the old country, he might go there himself some day.
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It was close to 12:00 by then and we still had 15 miles to get to Brunswick. Six and a half of that was nice level riding along the Androscoggin River. Then we had more hills west of the town. We were pretty tired by the time we got to the Moonlight Motel over on the west side near the junction of Highway 1 with Interstate 295. We chose it for the price, $92, but the Relax Inn or Traveler’s Inn are similarly priced and closer in.
We would be in Maine a few days, so we made a pact to try the lobster in various locales and pronounce judgment on the best lobster rolls and value for the money. We got cleaned up and headed out for some of Maine’s famous lobster at Cameron’s Lobster House a couple miles from the motel. For $15 I got a lobster roll packed with claw meat sauteed in butter, no mayo or adulterations. Scott went for the whole thing, $25.
On the way back, we stopped at the Pine Grove Cemetery where Joshua Chamberlain is buried. He's an important Mainer many people may not know, but he had a significant impact on our family. In high school our older son read “Killer Angels” about the Battle of Gettysburg, which historians consider the turning point in the Civil War. It was such a compelling story, Scott and I and our younger son also read the book.
Chamberlain led a downhill bayonet charge that won the battle for the Union and won him a Medal of Honor. He was an alumnus of Bowdoin College and taught there before being commissioned a lieutenant colonel for the 20th Maine Volunteer Infantry Regiment. After the war, he served as governor of Maine for four years, then then returned to Bowdoin College as the president until 1883. Inspired by Chamberlain, our younger studied classics at Bowdoin.
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We finished the day at the Gelato Fiasco on Maine Street. Lobster is delicious, but not so high in calories. More hills were in store for the next day’s ride, so ice cream was a great way to carbo load.
Today's ride: 50 miles (80 km)
Total: 2,881 miles (4,637 km)
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