Don’t Worry, Be Happy (Day Three)

I reached the point of ultimate frustration yesterday, and I’m a little ashamed of myself. I sat by the side of the highway, crying, and lost a little faith that everything would turn out OK. It did! There was no need to worry. But it’s fitting that I’m in Maine right now, because my face looks like a boiled lobster. I have plenty of sunscreen with me, but it works a lot better when you actually apply it to your face. That beautiful sun yesterday just hit me hard. 

My ride down Route 1 started out very well. The weather was beautiful and I think I had the wind at my back. My friend Alex made me promise not to go down Route 52, as my maps tell me to. He took me for a drive down it the other day (in his Shelby - hee hee) and I could see how treacherous it would be for bikers. Especially with my trailer behind me. There’s no shoulder whatsoever, it’s a very narrow road, and there’s lots of blind curves. He was actually hit by a car on that road, while biking, and the driver of the pick-up truck took off and left him there. He was hit by one of the extended mirrors. I didn’t need much convincing to take Route 1, and I’m going to suggest that Adventure Cycling change their route. 

I rode into Rockport, and stopped at a deserted gas station for a snack. As I prepared to head out, a friendly biker on a recumbent came over to say hi. He asked about my ride and offered me a place to stay in Rockland. Unfortunately, I had to decline because I was hoping to make it to Damariscotta, and my route took me down Route 90. 90 was nice, but the sun and the hills were starting to get to me. I took a right turn from 90, back onto Route 1, staying on the shoulder. There was very little traffic. As I was riding down Route 1, a pick-up truck slowed down next to me. The guy was leaning towards me and I figured he’d say something like “Where ya headed?” or “You go, girl!” Nope. He said, “Hey!! You didn’t stop for that stop sign back there!” Then he left. I was annoyed by it, but I would have been more annoyed if that had been my only conversation with anyone that day. The guy in Rockport made up for it, and my evening to follow made up for it. 

I had been dreading the massive climb in Waldoboro. I remembered it from the ride Becca (Wrong-Way) Brown and I did a few years ago. That time I was in much better shape, and I managed to stay on my bike and ride up the whole way. Guess what? I did it again. I feel like that hill is one of the toughest climbs I’ve ever done, and I did it. Quite proud of myself for that. I tried to find a place to stay in Waldoboro, but nothing was open. I set my sights on Damariscotta, but I was concerned because it was getting late and the miles were accumulating. Long story short, I found a place to stay in Newcastle, which is lovely. I walked the short distance into town, and found a Thai restaurant. My shumai and salad were fantastic, and Chip the bartender put the Red Sox on for me. Life is good. I’d like to say I slept well, but that’s still a problem. I was up at 2:00 a.m. Grand total miles yesterday: 48.26. I’m happy with that!