Marvelous Maine

After all, this is a bicycle adventure...so this entry is about our ride through Maine. We simply had a blast. The terrain was varied and challenging, the route was extremely well chosen, and the people were kind and gracious. And for the most part, the weather was extremely cooperative, with daytime highs in the 70s, and nights in the 50s. We did experience rain, but never when we were on the bike. The storms were kind enough to hold off until we had pitched our tent, and when it did rain, it ended in the early morning before we set out to ride again. Indeed, we were most fortunate.

Riding Conditions

Acadia National Park is ideal for bicyclists of all types. The paved loop roads have low traffic volume (at this time of year) and the system of carriage trails provide nearly 40 miles of traffic-less cycling. The Rockefellers financed the creation of the carriage roads back in the 1920s and created a lasting legacy that allow people to enjoy the Park in a non-motorized way. It reminded us of riding in Holland...carefree, easy terrain, and seeing bicycles everywhere. The surface is not paved, but the crushed gravel creates a wonderful road surface that was smooth and rut free. Getting off the carriage trails required a lot more strenuous effort, as Mount Dessert island is extremely hilly and the roads are in various stages of disrepair. It must be a harsh climate, as frost heaves were encountered on all but the newly paved sections of road. Acadia sees enormous tourist traffic, and even though we were there at the end of the season, we encountered lots of out of state vehicles. We mention this because we found that the drivers in Maine were most accomodating to bicyclists, while those with out of state plates (mainly NJ and MA) tend to speed and give cyclists less leeway. We spent two days in the Park, biking to all the sites, visitings some of the harbor towns, and getting our legs back in shape for the road ahead.

Leaving Bar Harbor, route 233 takes you on a killer climb right outside of town that left us huffing, puffing, and wondering what we got ourselves into. In fact, the route from Bar Harbor to Bath (approximately 100 miles) was quite up and down. Hills were plentiful, steep, but thankfully much shorter than climbs we experience out West. We began to learn how to anticpate our gear shifts, and use momentum to our advantage. When we did encounter some of the steeper sections, we simply geared down and spun our way up to the crest and over to the other side. This section took us through dense woods, picturesque villages and a variety of towns that have been "discovered" by the tourist trade. Tourism is a big, big part of Maine's economy, at a level that were not used to seeing in Montana. Towns like Camden, Searsport, Damariscotta, Bath, Freeport (LL Bean world!), are clean and tiddy, filled with art dealers, clothing shops, and numerous restaurants. And again, out of state cars were in the majority. It was on the back roads connecting these towns that we found the "real" Maine.

Once we got past Sebago Lake (the water source for Portland which was 200 miles from Bar Harbor) the hills disappered and the biking became smooth and relatively easy. We sped down to Kennebunk and on to the coast where we were treated to 50 miles of basically riding between beach towns with the Atlantic Ocean to our left. We were both amazed at the level of development...very remenescient of what we've seen near Ocean City Maryland, but far more tastefully done. A local told us that lots along the beach can go for $1 million...and that's without the house. The old homes are majestic, the new ones are cute, and the poor folk stay in semi-permanent trailer parks (which is where the campgrounds are generally located). The bulk of the people are visiting from Massacheusetts, with a smattering of license plates from Florida (reverse snow birds, no doubt). As we write this, we've crossed into New Hampshire and are staying in Portsmouth which is a fascinating place. Portsmouth is one of the oldest towns in North America, with nearly 400 years of history. The town has done a wonderful job in preserving its history, and being located one hour from Boston and Portland, has become a weekend tourist mecca. If you're in the east, it's a must see...and the beer at the local brewery is pretty good to boot.

Maine is a changin'

In many ways, Maine is like Montana in that it is going through an economic transformation from a resource based economy (timber, fishing, mining, agriculture) to a service economy. The stark contrast between the "new money" and the traditional economy is startling. In the countryside we saw well kept houses in the traditional style (barns or garages are attached to the main home by a mud room so people don't need to go outside during the inclement weather), but the new money homes were huge, with manicured landscapes and elaborate rock fences. Help wanted signs were everywhere...not just for tourist jobs, but building trades, landscaping and the like. After the first few days of riding we came up with the following observations:

• Most of this section of Maine is for sale. For sales signs are everywhere, and the real estate secton of the newspaper is bigger than the news.
  
• With all the antique stores, no one has anything left in their homes. Everywhere you turn, there's another antique shop. It's like a 200 mile long garage sale.
  
• There are numerous farms, but very little evidence of anything being grown of commercial value. We saw hay fields with no hay, pastures with no animals, orchards with nobody picking apples. Outside of some few fields, we really didn't see commercial farms until we got to the Brunswick area.
  
• The "offical" state truck is the dump trunk. We rarely encountered any other type of heavy vehicle. Dump trucks are ubequitous, scurring to and fro hauling gravel or dirt for unknown purposes. The drivers were courteous and gave us wide berth, especially when we were coming to the crest of hill. We were most thankful.
  
• "Redemption" in Maine doesn't mean personal salvation, but recycling. Maine has a mandatory deposit on bottles and cans, and redemption centers are conveniently located near stores so folks can get their money back. What all this means is that the roadways and countryside are virtually litter free. We were impressed with how clean the state was, and think there is a lesson to be learned here. We've also saw a number of areas held in conservation easements. This section of Maine has few public land, but there does seem to be an effort to preserve certain areas in their pristine state for future generations to enjoy.
  
• Most of the small towns we passed through had a "Grange" hall for public meetings. Cemeteries are numerous, and many of the communities we passed through have been there for more than 300 years. It is not uncommon to see houses 200+ years old. We were also surprised about the number of towns. Much of our route took us on old stage coach or post roads, and villages seemed to be spaced every 5-10 miles. Even rural Maine is far more densely populated than what we're used to in Montana.
  
• The woods are lush. Some of the trees are beginning to turn, but we are probably a few weeks early for "leaf peeping" season. Mushrooms and ferns abound, and the flower gardens in peoples yards are outstanding. All sorts of flowers are still in bloom. Mary Ellen is having fun identifying all the different varieties. Insects are minimal, although along the coastal tidal flats mosiquitoes were a minor nuisance.

Weather

As mentioned previously, the weather gods have been most cooperative. We would be remissed, however, not to share our experience in Searsport. We arrived at the campground under threatening sky's. Hurricane Ernesto had been downgraded to a tropical storm, loosing power as it journeyed up the eastern seaboard. We can only imagine what it must of been like as a hurricane, because as a tropical storm it was plenty powerful. That night we were pelted with rain the likes of which we've never camped in. All night, relentlessly, the rain came down, sounding like hailstones hitting the tent fly. It was a fitful night of sleeping. By early morning, the storm let up and we emerged from our coccoon damp but not soaked. The tent did it's job and we were most thankful that all was intact.

The humidity is much higher than what we are used to, and things are damp. We generally can dry out our tent and other equipment during the day, but the fact of the matter is we're in a part of the world that gets a lot more moisture, and it's something we need to get used to.

Proceeding On

As we leave the Atlantic coast (next encountered in North Carolina) and head inland (west), we believe we are prepared for the hilliest sections of the route that lie ahead. We'll be in New Hampshire for just two nights, Massacheusetts for 4, and then on to Connecticut. We've come over 260 miles to date, meaning that we've completed more than 10% of the trip. Like the people keep saying to us..."It's all downhill to Florida". Time will tell.