The trip across central Maine took a little longer than I thought it would. I crossed through the Lake District, full of lakes, both large and small. Although this part of the state is well-settled, the hills are completely forested, mostly in stately pines. The terrain was generally level to gently rolling and the final miles went rapidly. That is until I was within 20 miles of the ocean. At that point the inner radius of my rear tire broke, my first major breakdown. I had no choice but to walk my loaded bicycle to the next town. It was a wierd feeling having to actually walk part of my route. At a walking pace, I was only doing about a quarter of the speed that I was used to. The feeling was like getting out of a car and and being forced to walk to a distant location. Luckily, the town was only a mile or so away. The owner of a convenience store in town offered to drive me a couple of miles to the nearest bicycle repair shop. Within an hour, the helpful bike mechanic and I had installed a new rear wheel. He even outlined a route for me to easily traverse the City of Portland, ME to the ocean.
With this small delay behind me, I reached the Atlantic Ocean at about 6:00 pm. The site was Cresent Beach State Park, about 10 miles SE of Portland. The coastline is considerably different from that of the Pacific. There are numerous islands located a short distance offshore. These islands, and the frequent headlands that extend out to sea, result in relatively sheltered waters. Boats are commonly moored just offshore, as if this was merely a lake. The surf is very small, less than 2 feet, and no surfers were to be seen. I had finally arrived. Thirty-eight days on the road and nearly 3,300 miles pedaled. I got someone to shoot my picture against the ocean. I then waded into the water, noting that it felt only slightly cooler than than the ocean temperature at my Hometown of San Diego this time of year.
I couldn't linger at the beach for long because the sun was going to set soon and I had to find a campsite. I rode 10-15 miles south, down the coast, hitting a tourist area near Saco. The sun finally set and it got dark. No campground to be found. So I settled into a woods, located a short distance inland, for the night. My habit of getting up with first light would get me out before anybody could see my tent and possibly report me the following morning. I drifted off to sleep, lulled by the gently breaking surf in the distance.
Thoughts on Kind People
This Journey has brought me in contact with a lot of very kind people. I have received encouragement from complete strangers many times during the trip. In one extreme example (just today), a lady at a fast-food stand was so impressed that she insisted on introducing me to the next half-dozen, or so, patrons who came up to the stand. Other examples include:
These and others have enriched my experience on this Journey. They confirm what I have always heard through life about the kindness of people to those in need.
Pete Sturtevant
