Pushing Silver

Random is the theme

If the trip weren't completely random, I don't think it'd be any fun.  I left Scarborough lacking rest.  I learned as the evening went on that my plot in the campground wasn't just a really nice spot in the grass, but also basically the middle of a traffic circle.  The cars never stopped coming.  Usually, I sit down in the tent at night to read, and I know when quiet hours hit because everything dies down and I go right to bed.  That means I'm asleep by 10 or 11pm.  Last night, I started feeling tired and looked at the clock...1am.  The traffic was unreal.  When I checked in, they had a golf cart escort me to my site.  With us was a car going further in the campground.  These escorts didn't stop until way after I fell asleep at 1:30 or so.

If you've ever seen the movie Defending Your Life, you'll know what I'm talking about.  There are a variety of crowded tram scenes and they all break off into side streets and it's beautifully choreographed.  That's what this campground looked like...all night.  To give you an idea of how large it is, from my site to the front gate was 0.7 mi.  That's not back roads in the woods - it was occupied sites all the way!

I headed north this morning feeling alright, but a little under rested.  The weather was good and the terrain was pretty gentle and I got to enjoy some really nice descents.  I pulled into Portland planning to kick back a little bit...that was supposed to be the halfway point in the day.  I made my way down to the wharf thinking about taking a "ducks" tour.  The Duck is a WWII amphibious vehicle designed for dropping troops on a beach.  A tourism company has bought a bunch of them and set up shop in waterfront cities, giving tours and history lessons while using the vehicle to its full potential.  I'm familiar with them in DC and Baltimore, but didn't know they were anywhere else.

When I got to the starting point of the tour, they were almost full and I wasn't ready to climb in yet.  I needed a little time to cool down.  While relaxing, I met Dave.  He works on a lobster boat here in Portland called the "Lucky Catch" and was hanging around the pier waiting for the boat to return.  In the winter, they're strictly a working boat.  During the summer, they take groups of tourists out to see what it's all about.  They only hoist 8 traps during each outing, so they rely on tourism dollars to make up what they miss out on at the market.

Dave and I ended up at the pub and I have since ended up at Dave's place for the night.  Tomorrow, the boat is participating in a lobster boat race a little bit north of here, and we intend to go.  Apparently, they go fast enough to get up on plane (skimming on top of the water) and they stick their noses up high enough that sometimes, the wind can knock them over...backwards.  Or, sometimes they'll catch a wave the wrong way and go into a barrel roll.  We'll be riding up to the races in the boat, but observing from land.  Only the captain will be on board.

For now, we're relaxing and I've met a bunch of Dave's friends and we're probably going to go find some live music tonight.  That'd be Dave and I, his roommate Clint who's a painter (check out his work), Ian and John who just drove up from MA (Ian rides a longboard and wiped out last night...he's about 20% road rash) and a handful of others.  Check back tomorrow...maybe I'll have pictures of a lobster boat race :P

Today was 23.5 miles at 11.6 average, 31 max and just over 2 hours.

Can you bottle this stuff?

The weather dictates how the day will be.  I always thought it was merely an influential factor, but I now realize its power.  Today was absolutely perfect.  Blue sky, neat clouds (what few there were), cool breeze (usually at my back) and I couldn't help but feel good.  I slept late and took a leisurely ride to Kennebunkport where i relaxed in Federal Jack's with 3 beers and a book.  This was the local brewery that the guys in the campground had recommended the day before.  An interesting side note about Federal Jack's - they had waterless urinals.  I've only seen those in one other place...the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge (which is actually located on Assateague) in Virginia.  I thought that was a neat touch.

After snapping some pictures of the harbor, I rode out of town through a bunch of neighborhoods.  Some wealthy and by the water, some modest and shaded.  Today's ride took me right past George Bush Sr.'s compound.  I spent almost all of today following the book and didn't get lost once.  I was amazed (though I did get stuck at the end when I found out that the campground I was aiming for had been sold and turned into condos).

In general today, when I came across other cyclists, I was able to keep up pretty well.  I almost caught a group of 3 road bikes until they strayed from my route.  On my way out of Kennebunkport, I met Karen.  She asked me about the trip more than I asked her about herself, but she bears mentioning because she's the first road cyclist I've encountered that announced her presence.  Road bikes are so much faster than me and usually so quiet, I don't notice them until the rider is directly next to me.  Many road cyclists don't say a word, others greet me, but all of them inevitably startle me.  Karen announced that she was passing and ended up riding with me for probably 2 or 3 miles and her presence encouraged me to keep a good pace.  She was downshifting to pace me, but simply having another rider around so that I knew when I was slipping off my pace really helped.  We parted ways in Biddeford and I kept on cruising through Old Orchard Beach.

I was supposed to stay there and knew that I was only about a mile and a half away from the campground, so I stopped at a quickie mart for some dinner supplies.  They didn't have much and gave me directions to a grocery store...which I never found.  But I did make it to a Rite Aid where I was able to scrape up dinner.  Folks in the parking lot were very friendly and that's where I found out that the campground I was aiming for didn't exist.  They referred me to another option and I went in and inquired about a site.  I maintain that campground front desk should have more requirements as most of the folks I encounter lack the ability to assemble the obvious details into a coherent and useful thought.

"Any chance you've got a tent site for 1 person for 1 night...tonight?"
"Oooooh, no...sorry...but I do have a water/electric site that just came available - but it's got a 2 night minimum on it."

I'm thinking a day off to do laundry and finish a book or two so I can mail home more weight

"How much is it?"

She responded and I forgot the number immediately.

"I'll take it" (sliding credit card across the counter)
"Oh, wait, how many are there in your party?"
"Just me.  I'm traveling by bike, so I only bring my imaginary friends with me...they tend to weigh less than my real friends." (she didn't laugh...don't think she even got it)
"Well, we're a family only campground.  I can't let you have the site without a family.  I'm sorry."

Ok, 2 things here.  First off, I started by telling her I was alone.  Two nights I'm willing to handle, but the conversation should have ended before it began.  If you only sell sites to families, I didn't qualify from the word "hello."  But that doesn't matter.  What does matter is the deeply insulted feeling that followed.  My money isn't good enough for you?  And you're going to turn away the only person who got here by propelling himself?  They let me use their bathroom anyway and as I was walking back to the bike, the ice cream truck came through and it was the most annoying ice cream truck I'd ever heard.  I was happy to be leaving.

But like I said, today was a good day.  The difference between a good day and bad day is sometimes hard to figure out.  I've concluded that distance, time, speed all mean nothing.  What defines a good day is how I react to things.  On pretty much any day after the first week, when confronted with the lack of a campsite (first time it's happened so far) I would have sunk really low and been miserable.  Today I figured "well, that just makes tomorrow shorter" and pulled out my AAA Campground Directory.  I barely opened it before consulting my route book instead.  Lo and behold, 2.5 miles further down the road was another campground that didn't take me off of my route at all.  And if that was full, I had another one about 3 miles down the road again.  2.5 miles...I can probably get there before my candy bar melts.

So I got to the campground over some rolling hills (bad pavement, but no traffic so I was able to swerve around all the holes) and rolled past the cars to the office.  Somebody jumped out to flag me down just at the fence i was aiming for (to lean the bike on).  I didn't realize he worked there and he didn't realize I was planning to stop.  I asked about availability and he thought for a minute...

"Do you need a table?"
"I'll settle for a tree - I just need something to lean the bike against"
"I'm pretty sure we can find a place for you."

When someone asks "do you need a table" at campground checkin, you should interpret that as "would you care if we charged you 2/3 of the price and didn't put you in a real site?"  My answer was of course, "no" and they found me a nice little slice of grass that's private enough and flat enough and thoroughly shady.  Additionally, I'm close to the showers (without being in the walkway) and Im writing to you from a bench in a pavilion where I can watch the sunset and charge my batteries.  Yeah, today was a good day.  I wish I could bottle it and save it for later!

Specs for today = 36.8 miles over 2 hours 54 minutes, averaging 12.7 and max of 27.3 mph.

One last remark...  While I'm in the showers at campgrounds, I'm always amazed at how many things people forget.  Usually, I put the other bars of soap and whatnot somewhere dry (if possible) and disregard their presence.  Today I found a bottle of soap/shampoo/bodywash all in one stuff that has citronella in it.  I had to try it.  Some folks attract bugs more than others, and I'm one of those guys.  When we go camping, people like to sit next to me because it means the bugs come to me and leave them alone.  At any rate, I bathed in the stuff head to toe and I can now say after wearing it for 2 hours that it's absolutely, positively, without question...WORTHLESS!  I'm glad I had the opportunity to experiment with it for free.  No wonder it's been left in the shower.  ...and I thought it was forgotten!

Wells, ME

Later on during the storm last evening, I realized that I was surrounded entirely by trees.  I eventually fell asleep despite visions of being squashed by a toppling pine and slept rather well until about 3:30 am when the rain had stopped and the raccoons came out to see what we had all left out when we dashed into our tents before the storm.  When my alarm went off, I opted to sleep right through it.  Checkout here isn't until 1pm, so it was really easy to sleep late and use the excuse  that my tent and the stuff on the clothesline needed time to dry.  At some point in the morning, I decided to simply stay in Wells for the day and play tourist.

I have fond memories of Wells, though we only came here twice.  I remember going to the car museum on rainy days - I've got a memory of walking there with my Mom during the rain and us giggling at the traffic on Rt. 1; it was a complete parking lot and we were making excellent time.  Mom leaned over at some point and said "People are going to think we're natives!"  After I paid for a second night (which involved switching campsites), I set out on foot for the car museum.  I'm a car nerd...always have been.  I walked right past the place we stayed 15 years ago and smiled when I realized they had bought out the complex next to them...that doubled their size, so they're definitely doing a good business.  Though they had built more cabins in the field and ruined whatever view there used to be.  I walked on, past the indian moccasin shop and on to the museum.

This car museum is privately owned and operated, containing much more than the 80 cars.  The owner's collection also incorporates about 40 more cars in storage somewhere in Massachusetts.  He started out with a Stanley Steamer that was given to him as a gift and the hobby simply grew.  Mr. Gould is in his 80s now and is no longer restoring the cars himself (or much at all), but his collection includes bicycles, motorcycles, hubcaps, gas caps, hood ornaments, license plates, spark plugs, horn systems, pinball machines, nickelodeons, orchestrions, violin-playing mills, Regina hexaphones and all kinds of other neat stuff.  These games, musical devices and picture machines were all coin operated when I came as a kid, and I was happy to see that they were still a very "hands on" display.  There's nothing better than walking into a car museum and being able to put on music from the roaring 20s.

I won't go into detail here - check the Maine photo album for lots of pics and descriptions to go with them.  Suffice it to say that I had a very pleasant day of playing tourist, strolling through my memories and reading a book over a bottle of wine and a hunk of cheese.  Tomorrow, I'll head north in time to catch lunch at a a particular microbrewery in Kennebunk that the guys at the campground office recommended.  Translation = I'm going to sleep late again...Kennebunk is only about 5 miles away :P

So in honor of the car museum, I'll leave you with lyrics from Rusty Old American Dream by David Wilcox, an alum of Warren Wilson College where I spent two years after high school...

Well I don't look all that ragged, for all the time it's been
but I'm weakened underneath me, where my frame has rusted thin
and this year's state inspection, I just barely past
won't you drive me 'cross the country, boy, this year could be my last

I'm a tail-fin road locomotive
from the days of cheap gasoline
and I'm for sale by the side of the road - goin' nowhere
...a rusty old american dream

On the Road Again

After a wonderful stay in Somersworth, and a very late sleep today, I got back on the road and headed north to Wells, Maine.  I started out feeling like the bike wasn't actually that heavy, sometimes wondering if I'd forgotten something.  That lasted almost 10 miles and then I remembered I was pushing this thing in lower 90s weather...and so did my legs.  Today's ride was pretty flat and didn't run me through many towns.  I got to see a lot of farm land and forest.

Wells is larger than i realized.  I came here a few times for summer vacation with my family (including the dog - 1 time we sat on the highway for hours due to traffic from a Greatful Dead concert) and I remembered the population being small, but didn't realize how much land Wells encompasses.  I passed a sign that read "Welcome to Wells, Founded in 1640" and didn't see a commercial establishment of any kind for almost 3 more miles.  Somewhere in that stretch of nothing, I passed the yard of Elmer, a former Wells police officer.  He saw me riding by and waved me in for a glass of water.  I knew I was close, but I'd made pretty good time today and decided to get out of the sun and take him up on his offer.  Elmer and his best friend Howard were taking apart a riding lawnmower that had broken a weld on a pulley.  We sat around and shared traveling stories and I got a little bit of local knowledge, not much of which I retained.

I introduced you to Elmer because he was a neat guy (was wounded in WWII in Germany, has a large train collection, and is a Fee Masons), but also because I had to tell you about Elmer being born with 2 thumbs on his left hand.  When he was young, one of them was surgically removed (the doctor and parents encouraged him...he said he would have left it alone if the choice were his).  It's not "pick on the gimps," I just happen to meet really interesting ones, and meeting people is part of the purpose of my trip.

The rest of the ride to Wells was uneventful, though I must admit that I casually set up and took a shower.  I strolled leisurely to the store to buy dinner.  I set up my stove and cooked with more attention to the book I'm reading than to assembly of fuel bottles.  As I was eating, I heard thunder.  That's how fast this storm is moving.  I heard thunder before it got windy, before it got cold, and before the light changed from clouds.  I had just enough time to waterproof everything and put the important items in the tent - without getting anything wet, without really hurrying, and am now content to be writing to you from the inside of the tent.

Today was 20.5 miles, max 28.4, average 13.1 (can you tell that I've gotten some rest and it was pretty flat?) during 1 hour 34 minutes of riding time.  On that note, I'll leave you with lyrics from James, Sometimes (Lester Piggot)

There's a storm outside and the gap between the crackle and thunder is closing in.  The rain floods gutters, and makes a great sound on concrete.  On a flat roof, there's a boy leaning against a wall of rain, ariel held high calling "come on thunder, come on thunder!"

Kill Your Television

What a joy it is to be staying with a family that has cable TV and doesn't use it.  I've spent the last few days relaxing and getting to know a really great crowd of people.  I've met Calvin, the back yard director who's named after Calvin and Hobbes (Calvin, Lee and Conor interviewed me on camera about the trip, so if I ever get famous, there's home footage to humiliate a lot of people with), I've met Italians that grew up in England and moved on to Canada and the US (really interesting accents and colloquialisms), band members, and throngs of others.  We've had BBQs, talked politics and religion, played musing and sang songs, danced, gone to the beach/pool, quizzed each other with Trivial Pursuit cards at night to exercise our minds, and learned quite a bit about each other.

Jerry, one of my hosts, is a Merchant Marine.  In March of 2004, the US lifted the trade embargo from Lybia.  Three days after that, and with comfort only coming from a BBC Radio announcement of lifted restrictions, Jerry was the first US Merchant Marine to set foot on Lybian soil.  He was stationed aboard the Industrial Challenger which hailed from New Orleans, LA - though they painted over the hailing port on the stern of the ship for security reasons.  The ship was sent to collect a load of parts from disarmed nuclear weapons and all operations occurred after nightfall.  The Captain was tense while arriving in Trippoli...

We also took a trip to Portsmouth, NH to see a tall ship that had recently arrived.  The Gazela was built in 1883 and hailed from Portugal.  The boat was capable of hauling in 350 tons of fish in 4 holds.  Sleeping space was so limited, 2 men had to share a birth, equipped with a center board to prevent the sailors from rolling into each other during rough seas.  Now hailing from Philadelphia, the Gazela is the last remaining Barkentine ship in existence.  Those of you who saw Interview With the Vampire would recognize the ship - it was used during filming in New Orleans.  While we were visiting, the ship sported a flag arrangement that read "GLADICE US NOW" in celebration of the Captain's wife achieving US citizenship just three days prior.

It looks as if I'm going to hang out for 1 more day.  I've yet to do laundry or go to bed before 2am, so 1 more day is needed...but you never know who I'll meet or what I'll do tomorrow...  So the quote for this post has to be from Jesus Jones, Right Here Right Now

right here, right now
there is no other place
I'd rather be

Somersworth, NH

So I made it to Somersworth today.  It was a 27.1 mile ride and into a headwind most of the day.  I was exhausted when I arrived and deeply upset when I realized I missed a turn by about 2 miles.  If you've ever seen the movie Stand By Me, you'll understand why that's significant.

If you walk 5 miles down the river, you have to walk 5 miles back - that could take till dark.  So while you guys are marching your candy asses halfway across the state and back, I'll be on the other side, relaxing with my thoughts.

You use your right hand or your left for that?

So a 2 mile mistake is really a 4 mile mistake, and I was tired enough that it seemed like an eternity.  Today was also somewhat hilly.  This morning, I replaced that shifter cable and was amazed to see that the bike didn't need a tune-up afterwards.  Though in the middle of the day, the front gears and chain got in a fight and the chain lost, being shoved off into the frame.  I had to pull over and convince them to play nice.

And that's about it.  The weather is great (though a little hot) and I've made it to my next house visit.  I'll be taking about 2 days off to get some more rest and to think about whether or not I'm going to continue via bike or look into a van.  If anything noteworthy happens, I'll post...otherwise I'll talk to everybody in a few days ;)

Exeter, NH

Today was a pretty good day for riding.  A little hot, but not terribly humid, and the route kept me near the beach most of the day.  When I stopped for breakfast this morning, I realized that I had left my water bottles at the sink in the campground...should've made that cup of tea after all.  Yesterday, I noticed that one of my shifter cables was starting to fray and I'm happy to report that it held through the day.  I'll fix that tomorrow morning before I hit the road...simply too exhausted to bother right now.  During the day, the flies ("greenheads" as the locals call them) were really vicious, but luckily there are none in my campsite.

I began the day by stopping at the parking meter and depositing 20 cents on behalf of Katie.  We thought it was just too funny last night and she left me with 2 dimes for that specific purpose.  See the photo album of Mass and you'll know what I'm talking about.  Today, I also passed a mailbox made out of an old beer keg, but it was not a good place for me to stop and take a picture.  Oh well.

There's not a whole lot more to share about today.  It was mostly uneventful, just filled with wonderful scenery and quite flat.  What I will say is that I bonked again today.  If you're British, don't start congratulating me yet...  Bonking in cyclist terms means running yourself too hard and running out of energy.  It's the point in the day when you just can't go any further with any efficiency and no amount of Red Bull will fix it.  You're just done...stick a fork in me, I'm done.  I really slogged through the last 10 miles or so.  Even had to stop and ask someone in their driveway to fill up my water bottles because I went through some pretty desolate areas.

When I was younger, I went through braces.  When the Orthodontist would say "we're just going to do a little adjustment today" and tighten things, it would make my entire head ache to the point where I really didn't feel like eating for about 2 days.  My body feels that now.  After being in the saddle for 46.1 miles today, I feel like somebody put a wedge into my hips and tried to split the right side off.  The campground I'm in has a pool and I was very happy to go sit on the steps and soak today!

Tomorrow is a relatively short day.  I'm heading up to Somersworth for another house visit, and I'm really looking forward to the time off.  I'm going to try to finish another book (more weight to mail home) and I'm going to really think about the trip.  At this point, I'm really enjoying the travel and the tourism, but I'm not so sure that I really want to do the whole trip by bicycle.  One of my campsite neighbors from Falmouth, MA made a statement that hasn't left me yet...  "The way to travel is by van or truck - take the bike with you and just do day trips, but don't be forced to ride up all those hills."  Staying out of the rain (though I've been lucky so far, I still know I'll have some wet times ahead) is also a really enticing characteristic too.  So I'm not quitting, but I may be rethinking things in the next few weeks.

For the statistics today: 46.1 miles, 27.6 max, 11.9 average and 3:53 of riding time.  If you're keeping track, I'm in New Hampshire now - state #5 on the trip.

Gloucester MA

I was too "busy" getting rested to really see Boston, but I do have to admit that it's a fun city to ride a bike in.  There are quite a few bike messengers zipping around at all times and the drivers are used to their erratic navigation.  I found myself laughing as I pumped through the endless lines of cars and busses.  It was almost as fun as driving a car in New York city.

The route was mostly flat and I was pretty well rested after having a day off, but it didn't last long.  By the time I reached Salem, MA I was pretty tired.  Luckily, Salem is a really good place to take a break and play tourist.  As I was riding around the town, I saw a sign for the Salem Witch Dungeon and just had to go.  Almost all of my notes were taken in pitch black, so if I've misquoted names or anything, feel free to post comments with corrections.  A lot of my notes are completely illegible.

So it's 1692 and there's been a really harsh winter.  Salem Village (about 550 people) seceded from Salem the town and became Danbury.  As a result, the new town doesn't have much order.  Farmers are arguing land boundaries and a lot of the disputes are going unresolved.  George Corwin, the sheriff, and Reverend Paris are basically the only folks with any governing power over the town.  Reverend Paris has a slave from the West Indies named Tituba and she spends some time talking to some of the local girls about the supernatural and shares some stories about the practices of folks "back home."

The girls are fascinated and start acting out.  Their families don't know what to do and the town doctor can't find any physical ailments, thus deeming them as "bewitched."  This is the story of the Salem Witch Trials in which 19 women, 5 men and 2 dogs were hanged based on accusations made by the "afflicted" girls.  All of this was, of course, nonsense that the girls made up.  By the end, the group of girls had grown from the original 3 to about 10, ranging in age from 12-20.

I was especially interested in the dungeon, so I went in to purchase a ticket.  They had an offer to get a combo ticket - entrance to the Witch Dungeon, the Witch History Museum and the Pirate Museum - and I took it.  After the play that the tour of the dungeon opens with, they announced that the dungeon we'd be walked through is actually a recreation.  The real thing was discovered in 1956 by the telephone company as they were inspecting a building for renovation.  At the time, there wasn't much of an historical society in the area and the original was demolished.  Oh good...I just purchased tickets to the Disney Land version.

All three sites had very informative tours and the guides seemed to really enjoy their jobs.  It almost reminded me of being at Renn Fest.  Unfortunately, all three spaces were virtually unlit, so I have no pictures.  Pictures would not be beneficial anyway as it's all recreation.

While I was in town locking the bike up to go take one of the tours, a random man approached me "You know anybody that'd want to buy one of these?"  It was a camp chair.  I blew him off and was very happy when I came out of the museum to find my sleeping bag and tent and, well everything, still intact.  After playing tourist, I made my way to the Salem Beer Works for, um, lunch.  Lunch included a variety of beer, one of which was watermelon, and all of it quite good.

As I was about to leave (reluctantly) and finish the day (18 or so miles), I was greeted by Katie and just had to hang out and have another beer.  Katie wrecked her car when she was 26 by plunging off a cliff and into a tree.  The impact took place about 6 feet off of the ground and left her with a fractured #10 thoracic vertebrae and paralyzed from the waist down.  She's a lot of fun and has travelled a lot and we spent the afternoon and evening buying rounds of beer and sharing stories.  In the middle of that, she gave me a ride to Gloucester (where the story of the Perfect Storm originated) where I spent the night at a campground.  It was a blast and I can now say that I've ridden in a vehicle with hand controls - quite fascinating!

Statistics for the day: 24 miles of actual riding, 21.0 max speed, 9.7 average speed, 2:28 of riding time.

Bean Town

Yesterday I got up good and late due to a midnight disturbance by raccoons.  I made my way back in to Provincetown, got breakfast and headed off to the Whydah pirate museum.  What a cool collection that is!  Here's the short version.  The Whydah (pronounced "widduh") was taken over by pirates and ran aground in a storm off Cape Cod in 1717.  Almost everyone died in the accident.  In 1982, Barry Clifford started looking for the wreckage.  He found it in 1984 after the majority of his team had given up and he was flat broke.  The expedition actually borrowed money for a tank of fuel and got lucky on their last day!

After leaving the museum, I had a few hours to kill while waiting for the ferry, so I made my way to the bar and shot the breeze with some of the locals.  Provincetown is an interesting place.  There are 3400 residents, but only about 800 stay through the months of January, February and April.  Last year they got 90 inches of snow - 58 inches in one storm!  That snow storm was so bad, the Catholic church burned down...trucks just couldn't get there.  But the population of P-Town can almost be ignored right now because in the summer months, it swells to anywhere between 60,000 and 100,000.  Bicycles, pedestrians and cars clog the streets all throughout the summer.

P-Town also has an odd gay community.  By odd, I mean that it's unbalanced.  The other gay communities I've been around were evenly distributed, but Provincetown is predominantly male.  According to the locals, it's about 70% straight, 30% gay, and the people I spoke with agreed that it is mostly men.  However it balances out in the winter time.

When my alarm went off to remind me of the ferry, I picked up some fudge and headed out the dock.  On the ferry, I quickly fell asleep and woke up when we were almost to Boston with that dry feeling in my throat as if I'd been snoring.  People must have loved me!  As I was reassembling the bike rig (had to remove the trailer to make the turns on the boat), I noticed that my spare pins for the trailer are gone.  That's strange...  If someone were going to rob me, you'd think they'd take something useful or valuable.  I doubt they fell off - they've been clipped to my tool kit for 6 years and didn't fall off when I got hit by a car (6 years ago when I bought the bike).  So that's just annoying and hopefully I won't need them.

I left the wharf with a craving for Chinese food and started making my way back inot the neighborhoods where I had arrangements for a house visit.  Much to my delight, my route took me right by Chinatown.  I stopped, locked up the bike, and walked into a restaurant..."we're closed, sorry."  It was 5pm.  How does anybody stay in business if they close before dinner time?  They referred me to a place across the street, but when I asked those folks if my bike was safe, the response was "ooooo....I cannot guarantee" and was accompanied by a facial expression that said "I wouldn't park my bike out there."  Not willing to take the risk of parking my everything on the street and being out of sight for an hour, I pressed on to the house.

And that's pretty much it.  I had a really short biking day (didn't even bother putting on my cycling clothes) and played a little bit of tourist and got to meet some new people.  Today, I'm doing laundry and relaxing...something I really need!  I was hoping to catch a ferry to Gloucester tomorrow, but it seems that they have discontinued that service.  Back to the drawing board of route planning.

For those that are following the statistics, yesterday was 5.2 miles, 16.3 max, 6.1 average over 52 minutes.  Boston has a lot of traffic, so I didn't make very good time.

P-Town History

According to the book I'm loosely following (Bicycling the Atlantic Coast), the pilgrims landed in Provincetown on November 11, 1620.  During their 36 day stay, Peregrine White was born, the first child in the "new world."  After their layover, they proceeded accross Cape Cod Bay to Plymouth, MA.