Camden to Bucksport

We woke up early, had two breakfasts, watched Alien, and left around noon. The hills get fewer but steeper and higher as we go. We stopped for lunch in lovely Belfast, presumably settled by the Irish. We camped on a backroad in Alice's backyard. Tomorrow we hit Acadia.

Wiscasset to Camden

After having breakfast Denny's style, but free, we headed out. Dang! It was cold and hilly. Ahern sprinted ahead over hills leaving me far behind. I swear my brother is some kind of gerbil all hopped up on caffeine and vegetables, except his exercise wheel is a bike.

Anyhow we stopped at Moody's diner in Waldoboro (and no, they haven't taken advantage of the Wheres's Waldo? thing) got some good pie and more coffee. I parked my bike next to a bunch of Harleys to make their gang appear nerdy and less rebellious. We rode into town and stayed with a few people that have a house right on the harbor in Camden. Dinner involved double cooked pasta with a stick of butter. These people are nuts! They plan to move to Oregon via bike - from Maine.

Portland to Wiscasset

It was a long day. Wolf's Neck State Park is nice. When we came out of the grocery store ready to do like 10 miles and settle down for the night we found driving rain and a flat tire. We stopped at a Dairy Queen to plan more stealth camping. Then Bob shows up.

"Where you going?"
"Nova Scotia"
"Where you staying?"
"Uhh?!? We've just kind of been making it up as we go."
"Been there, done that. You can pitch your tent in my backyard if you're keen."
"Sweet as."

P.S. Ahern found a pear that he may or may not have touched in New Zealand. He was excited, onlookers were scared.

Nowhere to Somewhere outside of Portland

We finally got a map today. We have been wandering aimlessly on backroads. It is pretty hard to see the ocean in Maine without tress passing let alone being on a road and there just aren't many roads up here. We camped behind a lovely church somewhere along Rt. 9.

As we were eating Cream of Wheat at a 2:1 ratio with brown sugar this raven caws at us from atop the church's cross. Is this some kinda sign that god is smiting us for sleeping on church property and not eating Quaker brand oatmeal? Also I cant feel my (Owen's) hand too well....more on that later though (possible nerve damage).

Portsmouth to Uh . . . the woods

We toured the Maine beaches. So did all of New England. It was still nice though. We decided to Ninja Camp™. We headed down a dirt path and camped by a river on some piece of state land. I think it's a top secret breeding ground for demi-godlike mosquitoes that taunted, bullied, and bit us.

Newburyport to Portsmouth

The never appreciated the New Hampshire coast when I lived there but it is truely beautiful. We lunched at Joe's Meat House for some legendary roast beef. Portsmouth is a lovely town - do it if you haven't. We stayed with Barbra's daughter. Live free or die.

Hamilton to Newburyport

A lovely and short ride. We arranged accomadation through www.warmshowers.org - a website sympathetic to fellow wayward cyclists. We, by chance, met our host Mike riding down the street and settled in. We spent the day at Plum Island (the local nature preserve). Mike and Barbra were great. They had heaps of advice for touring Nova Scotia and helped Owen repair his bike.

Boston to Hamilton

We left Boston early with the best intentions. We started out through Cambridge - I've been here, things are nice. Sidewalks on dodgy four lane bridges filled with Boston's finest. We wandered, bumbled, and grumbled our way out of town, stopping thirty times to get directions delivered mostly in hand signals and Dunkin Donuts locations. I had three punctures in Salem . . . in the same block. We bumbled into Bradley Palmer State Park and poached a campsite. Nice.

Back home in New England

We visited my mother in Connecticut. We toured my old neighborhood, all the old spots, and things are generally on the up and up. We continued our freeloading tour in Boston and metropolis of Nashua, NH, taking in favors, warm couches, and delicious food without remorse.

The Other Border

We arrive in Niagara Falls. No, I'm not going to wax poetically about a waterfall, but it is worth a gander. We decide to find our campsite around dusk. We go to turn around in the American Border Customs carpark. Bad idea. We are trapped in the carpark with only the options of going back to Canada or shredding all four tires on spike strips. I know what you're thinking - "Build a ramp." Me too, but we decided to make an international u-turn instead.

It was dark. We could not find the campground. We decided to camp behind a Church. We were woken up by a police officer at 3am.

The Border

Oh, our not so friendly neighbors to the north, when did we stop liking each other? We decided to skip through Canada because it's shorter, mileage wise. Bad idea. I am still on New Zealand time and still have the delusion that I can have a casual conversation with anyone, even a border guard. Our little chat went like this:

"Hello" I say.
"Passports" Pause. "Where are you going?"
"Nova Scotia." (Well, we were eventually but just to Niagara for this trip. Whoopsy daisy.)
"How long?"
"Uh, maybe a couple of weeks . . . we're riding the bikes int-"
"Where are you staying?"
"Camping mostly"
"Reservations?"
(Many.) "Uh, no . . . not yet."

Then he hands us a yellow ticket and instructs us to park the car at Customs. We're being searched. As I hand my yellow ticket to the officer I peek at what's written on it: Halifax, 2 weeks, Nowhere to stay, No plans. We didn't do well. I cracked a joke and got a blank stare from one officer and a soul-piercing scowl from the other.

One hour later we are ushered to "Immigration". We don't really think of ourselves as immigrants to Canada, but the 16 Amish people in the room did. In fact, we were the only people around who believed in electricity.

We have a lovely conversation about why I've lived in 10 places in 4 years, how beautiful New Zealand was, and how much money is in my checking account. Not fun.

"Thanks, have a great afternoon."
"Next."

Bike Tour: Nova Scotia

We're biking from Boston, up the Maine Coast, around the Bay of Fundy, to Nova Scotia.