East though Maine...

[MikeO]

18th October

What a good day …

I wake early (as usual) and, after a pleasant breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant, I pack the bike in a cold drizzle and set off, heading east towards Acadia National Park, some 150 miles distant. It’s cold and I’m wearing my heated jacket and gloves – and wondering at the wisdom of the decision to leave the heated trousers in the pannier…

Soon, though, it dries up and, by the time I enter Maine, some 30 minutes after leaving the hotel, the sun’s out and the scenery is looking great. I was a bit concerned yesterday – the hotel was at a elevation of about 1500 ft and, after a squally storm on Saturday, the leaves on the trees in the vicinity had all but disappeared. At lower levels, though, the foliage is intact.

The colours are less striking, though still attractive, from a distance. However, when you see individual trees close up…

..the colours seem so bright…

…that it’s hard to believe that they exist in nature, but rather are the result of some artistic licence by a landscape painter…

I reckon they are best appreciated by taking a long steady ride through the minor roads in the area. It certainly works for me…

I’ve set Bettie the task of getting me to the town of Ellsworth. I’ve chosen it as a target simply because it is a fair sized town (and therefore likely to have an hotel with high speed internet) within easy striking distance of Acadia National Park. Bettie guides me through some very pretty roads, as we wend our way slowly east.

I come through the occasional town, but it’s mostly a rural ride. This old Dodge looked like it was still in daily use…

Missing a hubcap? I expect this chap will be able to help you…

…just give him a minute or two to check through his stock …

Just before I stop for lunch at Bucksport, I cross this rather fetching old suspension bridge…

…which crosses the Penobscot River. Its days are numbered, I fear, as they’re building its replacement right next door…

Heading down towards Blue Hill, I come across this ‘Tin Man’ mailbox…

…fittingly, his torso is made of a barrel of Budweiser…

A little further down the road, I spot this dam, built by beavers, just off the side of the road.

I couldn’t get any closer for a better pic, unfortunately, as it was right by someone’s back garden…

Passing this aging beauty (for sale if you’re in the market)…

…I ride into Ellsworth and check in to the Holiday Inn, where the delightful Valerie…

…gives me the low down on all the best places to see in the area. I wonder if employers realise what an asset friendly, helpful staff are to their business...

At the risk of repeating myself – what a good day…

 

[MikeO]

19th October

I wake early and, despite a feeling that I really ought to get up, laze indolently in bed until gone 0900. I decide to stay here for another night and inform the front desk.

When I eventually get suited up, I find a bright, sunny day awaiting me. I fill the bike and check the tyre pressures (both front and rear needed a pound or so), before setting off towards Mount Desert Island (pronounced Mount Dessert Island, for some reason), home to Acadia National Park.

It’s a cold morning – and I’m feeling it – the sunshine suckered me into leaving my heated jacket in the hotel…

…but, hell, I can put up with the discomfort.

I stop at the first beach the road leads me to…

…and take my helmet off, savouring the almost complete silence.

There is a childhood memory of the smell of a beach at low tide – salt, fish and seaweed – I can hear he distant muffled clank of a halyard on a metal mast...

I get kitted up and continue south east, following the shoreline…

…past various small communities, until I come to the town of Bar Harbor – a clutch of chic fashion shops and cafés – very trendy – Telluride on Sea – no thanks…

Further down the island, I stop for an excellent lunch (spaghetti & meatballs) at a little café in the village of Seal Harbor.

Returning to the Adv, I meet the old (& camera shy) Frank, who’s looking the bike over. He’s an ex US Navy man, having crossed the North Atlantic 14 times escorting convoys in his destroyer during World War II. He decided to retire here, near a more peaceful sea…

I ride on, stopping at Bass Harbor Light Station…

…guiding sailors clear of the rocks since 1858.

Once again, the silence is great – the gentle muted bonging of a buoy’s bell out in the bay the only sound.

Moving on (but spotting this old girl hiding in the long grass)…

…I come across the only fjord on the east coast of the USA (apparently)…

…I’ll take the geologist’s word for it – I just know it’s a beautiful spot…

There are some fantastic houses along this bit of coast…

…and the view they have is great…

Onwards.

Despite the great scenery and occasional attacks of childhood nostalgia, I’m getting bloody cold…

I follow Bettie’s route back towards Ellsworth, the hotel and a hot shower, pausing only to get a quick snap of this floatplane – I’ve never flown one and they fascinate me…

I’m back in the hotel by 1500 and warming up again. Not a long ride today (75ish miles), but a good one.

 

[MikeO]

20th October

I wake to a cold morning. It’s been just below freezing overnight, and I decide to test ride my heated trousers, as well as my jacket today. I’m packed, dressed and on the Adv by 0915, heading west towards Deer Island…

The island can be seen from Caterpillar Point, a scenic overlook recommended by Valerie the other day. If you look really carefully, you can see the suspension bridge leading to the island. Don’t strain your eyes – there’s a better picture of it coming up…

There is a bit of an odd sign here…

Although I can understand what they’re trying to achieve – stopping people dumping their household waste in bins intended to hold tourists’ litter – I can’t help thinking that the sign almost exhorts you to dump the rubbish as litter…

Anyway, I have no litter, so I ride on towards the very graceful suspension bridge that crosses the Penobscot Bay…

…which, like its sister over at Bucksport, is being worked on. I expect that this will result in its replacement in a few years…

Deer Island is actually a series of small islands, joined by causeways…

…which remind me of those joining the Outer Hebridean islands of North & South Uist and Benbecula – especially in the cold, crisp weather conditions this morning. In fact it’s only the lack of wind and good looking sheep that reminds me I’m not back there…

My heated clothing (Gerbing) is doing a fantastic job – I’m toasty warm I continue around the island, which is looking beautiful on this fine morning…

The town of Stonington is very pretty – locals have decorated the outside of their houses…

…which adds a personal touch to them. This place…

…smelt a bit though.

Rotting away in the driveway to a free-standing lean-to, I see this 1948 Pontiac Silver Streak ‘Torpedo’…

I imagine this caused much envy amongst the neighbours when it was first brought back from the dealer…

…but now, the heavy duty steel of the wings is a lacework of holes. I think it’s past any hope of restoration. Even the allure of a free pair of shoes…

…wouldn’t talk me into making an offer…

I’m soon reaching the end of the road which follows the coastline of the island, passing the best home made mailbox I’ve yet seen…

…before re-crossing the bridge and, following the coast, heading south west on US 1, through Belfast, Rockland and Wiscasset, before checking in to the Comfort Inn at Brunswick.