The rain hammered away at the canopies of our tents and as I've said before, it's not the same type of rain you watch from your front porch while reading a book. No, it comes down with authority, preventing any form of rest. Wide awake at 4am, I could hear Josh stirring next to my tent. It was going to be an early morning.
Josh was the first one out of the campsite. I was next as Mike had texted earlier not to wake him for lack of sleep the night before.
I would later learn what got Mike up and at em' in the morning.
Josh was the first one out of the campsite. I was next as Mike had texted earlier not to wake him for lack of sleep the night before.
I would later learn what got Mike up and at em' in the morning.
Just for the hell of it, I twinkled the little bicycle bell I had received on the Hudson River Trail as I passed our campsite from the road, a solid twenty feet. What the hell, it's kind of an alarm. Wouldn't you know it, that's exactly what cued him to leave his bed.
At 7:30, the roads were buzzing; contractors in their large trucks going to work, and school busses taking students to get their daily dose of American education. After the town of Danville, the ride took back roads all the way to the town of Kingston. It was so discreet and quiet that I didn't feel like an asshole without a shirt on. Still, I felt like an asshole. The light at one of my discreet roads ran perpendicular to a major highway and as I sat at the red light, I pretended to play with my saddle bags, changing my iPod to something more encouraging. Eventually, I put my sweat-soaked biking shirt back on much to my discomfort.
In Exeter, I met Josh at the most extravagant and beautiful library that I've seen yet. Josh walked into the lobby as I stood upon the second floor gazing down. Thankfully, I got Josh's honest reaction to the incredible architecture.
At 7:30, the roads were buzzing; contractors in their large trucks going to work, and school busses taking students to get their daily dose of American education. After the town of Danville, the ride took back roads all the way to the town of Kingston. It was so discreet and quiet that I didn't feel like an asshole without a shirt on. Still, I felt like an asshole. The light at one of my discreet roads ran perpendicular to a major highway and as I sat at the red light, I pretended to play with my saddle bags, changing my iPod to something more encouraging. Eventually, I put my sweat-soaked biking shirt back on much to my discomfort.
In Exeter, I met Josh at the most extravagant and beautiful library that I've seen yet. Josh walked into the lobby as I stood upon the second floor gazing down. Thankfully, I got Josh's honest reaction to the incredible architecture.
We stayed for over two hours, exploring the vast collection of books that they had.
Eventually, we wound up heading to the local bicycle shop to fix my tires and to see what was wrong with Josh's bike. Wheel Power was not just any old bike shop. The reviews online raved about the guys and people came as far as Boston just to meet with the staff. Josh and I were not disappointed.
Daryl and David were exceptional humans, providing friendly conversation and professional bike advice to boot. It turned out that Josh's bike had more problems than mine. A mere fee of $8 was the cost of the repairs or "truing". My tires have been circling in a rather odd fashion since I started and I yearned professional advice. David made me feel much better.
Daryl recommended the restaurant Blue Moon down the road, which specialized in organic food; Josh's dream. It did not disappoint. However, it left me reeling worse than any McDonalds I'd been to. A devastating food coma took over my mental abilities. This would also mark the last time I would see Mike.
He showed up just as we were concluding our meal, coming six miles off course from the town of Epping. I was all giggles and the food had left me in a state of waking sleep. Nonetheless, I was eager to continue to our destination of Wells, Maine.
Speaking briefly with Mike, I was surprised to hear from Josh that Mike was seeing us for the last time. He planned on continuing on his own, creating his own schedule. I was shocked but it was something I had planned on occurring. Even so, it was difficult for Josh and I to handle... but alas, we respect it.
On my way to the town of Portsmouth, the route takes us on a long detour around all the busy sections. As I neared the bridge to the town, signs began appearing noting the bridge was out.
No way.
Well, the even longer detour led me through the most beautiful terrain I've seen so far.
Eventually, we wound up heading to the local bicycle shop to fix my tires and to see what was wrong with Josh's bike. Wheel Power was not just any old bike shop. The reviews online raved about the guys and people came as far as Boston just to meet with the staff. Josh and I were not disappointed.
Daryl and David were exceptional humans, providing friendly conversation and professional bike advice to boot. It turned out that Josh's bike had more problems than mine. A mere fee of $8 was the cost of the repairs or "truing". My tires have been circling in a rather odd fashion since I started and I yearned professional advice. David made me feel much better.
Daryl recommended the restaurant Blue Moon down the road, which specialized in organic food; Josh's dream. It did not disappoint. However, it left me reeling worse than any McDonalds I'd been to. A devastating food coma took over my mental abilities. This would also mark the last time I would see Mike.
He showed up just as we were concluding our meal, coming six miles off course from the town of Epping. I was all giggles and the food had left me in a state of waking sleep. Nonetheless, I was eager to continue to our destination of Wells, Maine.
Speaking briefly with Mike, I was surprised to hear from Josh that Mike was seeing us for the last time. He planned on continuing on his own, creating his own schedule. I was shocked but it was something I had planned on occurring. Even so, it was difficult for Josh and I to handle... but alas, we respect it.
On my way to the town of Portsmouth, the route takes us on a long detour around all the busy sections. As I neared the bridge to the town, signs began appearing noting the bridge was out.
No way.
Well, the even longer detour led me through the most beautiful terrain I've seen so far.
The town of New Castle presented calm and enjoyable biking with cars that finally seemed to give me a break. There were signs everywhere noting to watch out for bikers and the vividly blue Atlantic Ocean was a constant companion throughout the ride. Crossing another bridge, I finally entered...
Portsmouth.
There have been so many absolutely wonderful encounters in this town today that I'm devoting tomorrow's post to the people and place.
Tiffany Furlong, Jesse Kendrick, Ross, Amy, Katie, Mark, Nick, John, and Lee: thank you for giving me positive energy that continues to inspire.
Worth mentioning... On the way to Wells I met someone that completely convinced me to stay in the town of Portsmouth. Ross, I thank you for that.
Portsmouth.
There have been so many absolutely wonderful encounters in this town today that I'm devoting tomorrow's post to the people and place.
Tiffany Furlong, Jesse Kendrick, Ross, Amy, Katie, Mark, Nick, John, and Lee: thank you for giving me positive energy that continues to inspire.
Worth mentioning... On the way to Wells I met someone that completely convinced me to stay in the town of Portsmouth. Ross, I thank you for that.
Tomorrow, Josh and I will continue to learn about this intriguing town and unveil the narratives of the inhabitants who happen to be present.
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