Pre-pot.
Post-pot.
I've been struggling a bit, like I often do, at the beginning of a tour. My legs finally got into life on the road yesterday and I seem to have recovered the 'get up and go' that I need for long miles. I've learned over the years to really listen to the old body, especially at the beginning of a trip. The legs want shorter days so they get 'em.
Riding a new tour, I feel kinda like the generals who are always fighting the last war; I'm riding the last tour. Last summer, I started with really long passes to climb followed by the flatness of the plains and finishing with some very mild climbing in Minnesota and Ontario. Winter break was similar to the beginning of the summer with really long passes. Riding long passes requires patience and a low gear. I'd spin up those passes at 5-8 mph for hours. It's monotonous and mindless so it's easy to tune out and the miles pass fairly effortlessly. Here, I'm constantly climbing short, steep hills and getting short coasts down the other side. I'm shifting up and down constantly including in my front chain rings and am finding it hard to get a rhythm going. There is a good shoulder on Route 1 but the pavement is some of the worst I've ever seen so even on the downhills, I have to really pay attention. No tuning out allowed!
Most of Route 1 is in forest and isn't particularly scenic. There is no comparison to Pacific Coast Highway 101, which I still consider one of the most scenic rides I've ever been on. Every once in a while though, there is amusement to be had.
The second highest mailbox says 'Bills'.
I thought slavery was illegal?
Verb or adjective?
Although the road is rather boring, the towns in Maine are really picturesque and there is lots of history to explore. This is Belfast.
One town on the way to Belfast had some cannon displayed by the shore. Another Cannon Beach?
I rode down to Belfast harbor, which is where I first saw the Atlantic Ocean back in 1996 on my cross-country ride. I remembered the harbor very well and remember dipping old Sam's (he was young back then) tire in the ocean and writing my mileage on the dock in sidewalk chalk.
I spent a good part of yesterday at the Penobscot Marine Museum in Searsport learning about life aboard sailing ships. This is one of the houses built by a sea captain.
I visited the local Congregationalist church (Congregationalism is a kinder, gentler version of Calvinism, according to the gentleman who showed me around. Good works matter and entry into heaven isn't predestined from birth.)
I stopped at a picturesque cemetery to take some photos.
Here is a closer look at one of the tombstones.
Lieutenant Black fought in the Revolution. Wow! I'm used to seeing 'old stuff' in Europe but not in the US. In Portland, a building from the early 20th century is a big deal. Around here, Revolution, War of 1812, and Civil War history is everywhere.
Many of the old sea captains houses are falling into disrepair because the upkeep and heating is so expensive. This house could inspire some good horror stories by Stephen King, a Maine local. I think he lives in Bangor.
This is the Penobscot river where the US Navy lost a major sea battle with the Royal Navy during the War of 1812.
I'm now heading back to my campground on one of the free buses that run on the island. Tomorrow, I'll explore the park in luxury since I'm leaving my gear in camp.
-- Post From My iPhone
Location:Main St,Bar Harbor,United States
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