Day 1 (103; we left the trail last year after 102 days)
Miles: 3.7
Mileage: 2,148.3 (This mile point is according to hiker Half Mile’s calculations and is the generally agreed upon mileage)
Well, we’re back at it.
After a lovely visit at our friend’s house in Bar Harbor, we flew back to our gear and spent a day switching from bike mode to hike mode.
This morning we flew out to Portland and then took a train, then a bus, then an Uber back to the trail. We revisited last summer’s stopping point for a photo, reorganized our packs so they we were ready for hiking and took off into the woods.
Almost instantly my mind went to the audio book I was listening to as we descended to the Columbia River last July.
We didn’t get to the trail until nearly 4 p.m., so we decided to take it super easy and hike to the first good tent spot. We found a bunch of spots right by Gillette Lake.
By 5:30 p.m. we had picked our tent spot, removed our shoes and rinsed in the lake.
Dinner was leftovers from the airport. We set up our Zpacks tent for the first time in a year and luxuriated in its spaciousness. It is SO much bigger than the tent we used on the bike ride. Ahhhhh!
Tomorrow we hike higher.
Starting from where we left off.First night back on the trail.Collecting water.
Our final day started as most mornings do: with a calorie load. We are coffee and bagels and yogurt and fruit and also snagged a pastry treat for the road.
We got going by 8:30, but it was already so hot and humid. We spent most of the day on route 1, which meant questionable shoulders and frequent traffic. I will not miss the noise of a semi careening past me when all I want to do is have a conversation with Richard. Traffic noise has interrupted our talks since we started and while we’ve gotten pretty good at pausing at the loudest moments, it does make talking more challenging and annoying.
The pavement in Maine has been hit and miss. Sometimes it’s perfectly fine and other times it tries to eat my bicycle whole.
Route 1 was no exception. Surprisingly, we didn’t get any flats in Maine!
All morning I was scanning the horizon for the sign marking our turn on to route 176. With that turn we left behind route 1 and starting working south toward Bar Harbor.
We stopped for ice cream and beverages in Surry and lingered under the shade of a big umbrella.
A local gave us an alternate route that would mean less traffic going into the island. We eagerly thanked him for his information and took an early right turn so as to avoid Route 3 and every car packed with tourists heading for Bar Harbor.
We rejoined route 3 briefly to cross the bridge on to the island and then took an interior road to the actual town.
It was flooded with people and cars. We wound our way to the pier (the end of our map), and then also biked to the beach so we could dip our wheels into the water. We dipped our feet, too, and the water felt so lovely and cold after all the heat we’d biked through.
Rather than stop for ice cream in town, we headed straight for our friend’s house just south of town. All the crowds were making me anxious.
Once at Catrina’s we unloaded, changed for swimming and drove to Seal Harbor beach. The water was so cold, but I loved it!
Just like that our bike trip ended.
It was a lovely way to see the country and I’m so glad we had the opportunity to do it. Thank you to all the wonderful people we met who made our journey a more pleasant affair with their stories, laughs and assistance when we were in need.
On to the next adventure! The end!
And after a dip in the ocean, a rest in the grass.
The heat returned in Maine and we spent the day soaked in sweat, draining our water bottles and dreaming of ice cream.
We left the campsite and got back on the route reasonably early for us. The heat made sure we never went too fast. By midday we got our first whiff of salt in the air.
We came upon Brunswick and got blueberries and Gatorade at a grocery store. Despite a not overly large breakfast, I wasn’t hungry in that heat.
We kept going up and down and up and down the continuous hills switching from route 1 to smaller roads just off route 1. They were all hilly and we never got a consistent breeze off the water.
We decided to stop for dinner at a seafood stand and gorged on lobster rolls, milkshakes and French fries. It was another 17 miles to a state park or another 20 to a hotel.
Given the state of our salty skin, we opted for a hotel and the luxury of a shower.
The breakfast at the lodge was hearty and lasting. Coffee. Cornmeal pancakes sprinkled with coconut shavings. Fake bacon that tasted awesome.
After slowly negotiating the gravel access road back down to route 118, we had a little more up to do before the long down hill into Lincoln, New Hampshire. And after that it was straight up the Kancamangus Highway to get over the White Mountains. It was 10 miles of up on a hot day, but with my stomach full of Lodge breakfast, it went pretty smoothly.
The long downhill to us to Conway for ice cream and eight miles later, we were in Maine.
And that brought a constant stream of short, but steep, ups and downs. We found water near Poland, Maine coming out of the mountainside. It was cool and clear and tasted great!
We camped near a lake on sand, my least favorite type of dirt. And had a dinner of chips, sour cream dip and noodles from a can. At the top of Kancamangus Pass.
I have been dreaming of a particular day ever since Washington state. It goes thusly: We leave the farm after a bit of a lie in and a big breakfast. We bike up the Connecticut River to NH route 25 C. Just before we start the climb up route 118 to Moosilauke Ravine Lodge, we stop at Moose Scoops ice cream in Warren.
That was the dream. And that’s exactly what we did.
We slept well following the afternoon of storms and woke up to a tail-wagging Beagle looking for morning pets.
We took our time packing up and didn’t start north until after 10 a.m. We rode past multiple parties out with their chain saws cleaning up after the storm.
The weather was sunny but not overly warm.
We chose 25C as our route to the lodge specifically because it was the most recently paved of our options. Having driven it in May, we hoped it was still in good shape, and it certainly was.
We stopped for a photo at the spot where the Appalachian Trail crosses route 25C. And that’s when Richard noticed how low his front tire was. We used our last new tube and promised ourselves we would patch the bad tubes when we got to the lodge. The leaks we so slow that neither of us could hear them or feel them. These leaks would require dunking them into the Baker River to see where the air was coming out.
Only a couple of miles later we were at Moose Scoops enjoying our fuel.
The climb up to the lodge from Warren is about 6 miles and relatively flat until the second half. It was a warm day and each patch of shade we rode through was welcome.
Richard made it to the access road first.
“Do you need a break?” he asked as I creasted the rise.
“I want to get this over with,” I said and kept biking past even though I was thirsty.
The access road is another 1.5 miles, up, with gravel. I was ready to have the hill behind me.
We came upon the lodge road full of cars. Weekends at the lodge are usually busy as many hikers come to climb Mt. Moosilauke. This year, however, is busier because in September the lodge is being torn down and replaced with a new lodge. Lots of people are coming back this summer for a final visit before things change. We only barely got our reservation in on a Sunday night.
We bathed in the Baker River and found the holes in our tubes. We ate a hearty lodge dinner with old friends. And we slept in a new bunkhouse all to ourselves. New Hampshire! Moose Scoops! Mt. Moosilauke!
One zero of errands, helping with harvest at Sweetland Farm, visits with friends and cleaning muddy bikes turned into two zeroes.
We love it here so much we just needed another 24 dose: Reading and playing in swimming holes and eating food that was just plucked from the ground.
I’m not a huge fan of summer. It’s too hot for me, but when it’s over 90 degrees and you can gorge on blueberries and sink into a cold stream and hide under the shade of the nearest tree, it’s not so bad. Helping to weed the asparagus at Sweetland Farm.
The first ferry across Lake Champlain to Vermont went at 7 a.m. We woke up at 5:30 so we would have time to eat a big breakfast and pack up and ride the two miles to the ferry by 7.
And it all worked perfectly.
We got on the ferry — it was just us and the ferry operater — and started across the lake.
About 200 yards from the New York shore Richard realized he’d left his phone at the hotel.
The ferry man stopped the boat and took us back to New York. Richard unloaded his bike of gear and rode back to the hotel. His phone was jumbled up in the sheets on the bed, so we missed it.
No harm. Phone retrieved, he made it back just in time to catch the ferry on its second crossing of the lake and we were on our way, only 30 minutes later than we’d planned.
We rode up the hill to Middlebury, Vermont and to the base of Middlebury Gap. We stopped for some quick fuel before the climb at a gas station.
Turns out it was the same gas station where we’d parked on a different bike ride nearly 10 years ago. It was my first visit to the area with Richard and he wanted to take me on “The Four Gap Ride.” It’s about 100 miles with four long climbs up and over and up and over the spine of the Green Mountains. That day a decade ago, I could only make it through two gaps before we ran out of time and I ran out of energy.
My, how much has changed.
We started up Middlebury and only a couple of miles in we came upon a sign that said “Loose gravel in Hancock. Cycles not advised.” Apparently they were repaving the road at the top of the gap and the whole east slope of route 125.
Fortunately for us, we didn’t ask for their advice, so we went up and over anyway.
It was hot and sunny on the climb, but we made it to the top without encountering much trouble from drivers or construction.
We got to come down route 125 on brand new pavement for a few miles, then it became gravel and mud.
We slogged through and eventually made it to the bottom splattered with grit and dirt. But our wheels were still inflated!!
We stopped in Rochester, Vermont for lunch at my favorite bakery/bookstore.
Then it was just 45 miles to the Upper Valley!
It was so nice to finally be on roads I recognized and views I will always remember. On the ferry!
In Vermont!Love those views.Fueling properly for the climb up Middlebury Gap.The look of after-climb mud riding.
We aimed for another early start and did pretty well. It was a chilly night and a chilly morning, which doesn’t make it easy to motivate oneself from opening the sleeping bag and starting the day, but we warmed up once the sun came out from behind the fog.
We stopped for breakfast at a small gas station/diner and had delicious egg, cheese, tomato and hashbrown sandwiches. That fueled us up and over the shoulder of Blue Mountain to Long Lake, New York. After that, we knew we were heading towards an afternoon of little resources.
Which is exactly where we were when I noticed my back wheel was flat…again.
Annoyed, we pulled over and pulled off the wheel, deflated the rest of the air from the tube, pried off the tire, pulled out the tube, and tried to find the hole. We located the new hole, patched it, put the tube and tire back together, inflated it, put it back on the bike and mounted up.
As soon as I was back in the bike and clipped into the pedals, the same wheel was flat again.
Now frustrated, we repeated the whole process using the spare, but not new, tube we carry as a backup.
As soon as I went to start biking again, the wheel was flat.
Ugh!!!!
Our only option was to keep trying to patch our failing tubes.
Cars kept driving past, none stopping to even check if we were okay.
“You know what we need?” I said. “We need a bike shop owner to drive past. They’d help us.”
Moments later, a nice man named Dave Halter stopped to see if we had everything we needed.
Actually, we asked, you don’t happen to have a spare tube, do you?
Indeed he did. Dave owns a bike shop called Halter’s Cycles in Skillman, New Jersey and keeps a whole box of tubes and tires at his vacation house just down the road.
We were saved!
Dave went to get the tube and we waited, relieved.
Not only did he give us three tubes and a spare tire, and put the new tube on for us — I think he could see we were over it — he wouldn’t even let us repay him for it.
“Can I pay you?” I said.
“Nope,” Dave said. And that was it.
We rolled east with fully inflated tires and Dave went on with his day.
We made it another 60 miles to the edge of Lake Champlain, but missed the ferry across to Vermont. Oh, well. We were still within a day’s bike of our friends in the Upper Valley and there was air in our tires. What more could we really ask for?
We fell asleep with bellies full of Chinese food and dreams of Vermont. Foggy morning.
Happy with my breakfast sandwich!Stuck by the side of the road.Free of the uninflatable tubes! Thanks to Dave!Didn’t make the ferry, but here’s a lovely waterfall.
We decided to give ourselves more time by getting up and out before 8 a.m. By 10, we’d covered 30 miles.
I remember when crossing from New Jersey to New York on the Appalachian Trail, I was surprised by how hilly New York was. All of a sudden the hills were steep and frequent.
I feel that way about New York, again. As soon as we left the shore of Lake Ontario the hills came at us. On repeat. All day.
Most weren’t terribly steep but some motivated me to drop down into — and be grateful for — my granny gear (that third crank gear by my pedals that is small and usually useless until I’m grinding up a big hill. I honestly didn’t think I would use it again until Middlebury Gap in Vermont.
The weather was nice. No rain and even a little chilly. When we paid for our campsite tonight, the weather forecast said it would go down to 44 tonight. And I just switched to a lighter sleeping bag. Oh, well. I still have my down jacket.
Even though I ate ice cream twice today, I was still slowing down by the last 20 miles or so. I was just so sleepy. And all I could imagine was the taste of a cappuccino.
We’re already feeling the pull of the Upper Valley, our home in Vermont and New Hampshire. We’re hoping to make it into Vermont tomorrow. Riding by lakes in the Adirondacks.
Sure, we left the nice, upgrade suite around 10:30 a.m., but we had to stop to avoid thunderstorms four times. The worst episode came while we were buying cherries and blueberries at a farm stand. So, while the rain and thunder passed, we stood in the barn and ate a pint of blueberries, a quart of cherries and two ears of corn.
After the rain, came the sun and some pretty impressive heat. And then two flat tires. Both mine. Both rear. Both harder than they should have been. Turns out, the rim tape on my rear wheel had shifted and exposed the sharp edges of some of the holes where the spokes attach. I think we got it moved back. But now we have no back-up tube because the tube in my rear wheel has so many patches in it, it’s starting to be more patches then original rubber. Hopefully we’ll pass a bike shop soon.
We’re camped at a park near Fulton, N.Y. with the goal of getting an earlier start tomorrow, if only to leave more time during the day for things to go wrong. Hiding from rain and thunder while spitting cherry pits.
Hiding from rain under the nearest trees.Finally free of the rain!
