"This is the way the world ends - not with a bang but a whimper."
Well, like a lot of epic journeys (if you will forgive me calling this one epic) our Sea to See Bike Ride finished up in a bit of a rush and with a somewhat less-than-epic celebratory meal, but it was ok in the end. First off, the day itself was absolutely beautiful. Had we been given the opportunity to order the weather we wanted from a menu, it couldn’t have been better – mild, not
too warm, just enough breeze to cool us, wind mostly at our backs, and to cap it all, stunning scenery. We left Camden early, as we still had about 85 miles to go to Bar Harbor, and the first part of the route along R52 turned out to be both hilly and very badly-surfaced. Dan wrecked his derailleur gear-change mechanism, which broke a spoke, but fortunately he wasn’t far from Belfast, which had a good bike shop which got him going again, for $50. Dan has had so many problems with his bike, which is about 15 years old, that when we were talking about how we would end the ride by dipping our front tyres in the Atlantic, Stuart came out with one of the best lines of the trip. “Instead of just dipping the wheel in the water,” he said, “why don’t you just pick it up and throw the whole bike in?”
84.4 miles later and after climbing 4280’, we arrived at the outskirts of Bar Harbor (pronounced by the locals as Baa-Haa-Ba). Bryan had organised one last surprise for us – a police escort into
town. Our triumphal entry, however, was delayed by 90 minutes while Jonny dealt with not one, not two but three punctures in the last ten miles. He arrived at the rendezvous point hopping mad, not least because, after having ridden some 4200 miles to get to this point, someone had suggested he throw his bike in the van and get sagged in. As if….
After the euphoria and general rush of the police escort into town, seeing families cheering and waving, (and a load of innocent bystanders joining in) and after one last quick nostalgic fall as Mike demonstrated how his wider tyres would work ok on the beach... there was a rush to get everyone off to their host homes with the Baptist church for a shower and change before our last celebratory meal together. This being one of the last holiday weekends, and Bar Harbor being a popular holiday destination (for NI folks, think Helen's Bay/Crawfordsburn with a marina) the restaurants were booked solid. After a lot of great work on Marie's part, as everywhere was so busy, we had found a lobster place (lobsters are Maine's theme song) about 12 miles away that would give us a good deal and a private room. It turned out the good deal was because the lobsters were the size of crickets and the only other things on the plate were an ear of corn, a small tub of coleslaw and a bread roll. The room was an open-air terrace above the dining-room, alive with mosquitoes until the sun went down, then freezing and wet as the sea-mist rolled in, right beside the take-off path for the Hancock County Airport, and so close to the highway that you could scarcely hear yourself shouting. A few people had pre-ordered chicken instead of lobster, but on the night some of our guests took the chicken, they didn't have any more, and poor Jonny & Fiona, not into seafood, were finally given one small, miserable hotdog each with a few potato crisps.
However, the craic was great. Bryan's wife Jill performed a version of Home on the Range tailored to us, Emma made awards to everyone for something, and I closed the evening and the event with a presentation to Bryan and a word from the Word. Jill, Bryan's creative wife, had a framed picture for everyone which everyone signed and wrote on, and so it was over.
Almost the final incident of the night was a conversation with a lady and her 69-year-old mother who had watched us signing each other's pictures and were intrigued with why we had done this. They wanted our cards, and were going home
to look on the website.
Back to the house where Paul B, Emma, Zack and I were staying, the home of Ed & Anne Damm, two erstwhile hippies who have a musical-instrument shop in Bar Harbor specialising in celtic instruments. Nice folks, pleasantly laid-back.
May reflect more on the trip later, but for now I'm just glad it's over and everyone safe. To God be all the praise.Thank you for your true partnership in it, not only by giving but also by praying. I believe God fully answered.In His love and grace.
Well, like a lot of epic journeys (if you will forgive me calling this one epic) our Sea to See Bike Ride finished up in a bit of a rush and with a somewhat less-than-epic celebratory meal, but it was ok in the end. First off, the day itself was absolutely beautiful. Had we been given the opportunity to order the weather we wanted from a menu, it couldn’t have been better – mild, not
too warm, just enough breeze to cool us, wind mostly at our backs, and to cap it all, stunning scenery. We left Camden early, as we still had about 85 miles to go to Bar Harbor, and the first part of the route along R52 turned out to be both hilly and very badly-surfaced. Dan wrecked his derailleur gear-change mechanism, which broke a spoke, but fortunately he wasn’t far from Belfast, which had a good bike shop which got him going again, for $50. Dan has had so many problems with his bike, which is about 15 years old, that when we were talking about how we would end the ride by dipping our front tyres in the Atlantic, Stuart came out with one of the best lines of the trip. “Instead of just dipping the wheel in the water,” he said, “why don’t you just pick it up and throw the whole bike in?”
84.4 miles later and after climbing 4280’, we arrived at the outskirts of Bar Harbor (pronounced by the locals as Baa-Haa-Ba). Bryan had organised one last surprise for us – a police escort into
town. Our triumphal entry, however, was delayed by 90 minutes while Jonny dealt with not one, not two but three punctures in the last ten miles. He arrived at the rendezvous point hopping mad, not least because, after having ridden some 4200 miles to get to this point, someone had suggested he throw his bike in the van and get sagged in. As if….
After the euphoria and general rush of the police escort into town, seeing families cheering and waving, (and a load of innocent bystanders joining in) and after one last quick nostalgic fall as Mike demonstrated how his wider tyres would work ok on the beach... there was a rush to get everyone off to their host homes with the Baptist church for a shower and change before our last celebratory meal together. This being one of the last holiday weekends, and Bar Harbor being a popular holiday destination (for NI folks, think Helen's Bay/Crawfordsburn with a marina) the restaurants were booked solid. After a lot of great work on Marie's part, as everywhere was so busy, we had found a lobster place (lobsters are Maine's theme song) about 12 miles away that would give us a good deal and a private room. It turned out the good deal was because the lobsters were the size of crickets and the only other things on the plate were an ear of corn, a small tub of coleslaw and a bread roll. The room was an open-air terrace above the dining-room, alive with mosquitoes until the sun went down, then freezing and wet as the sea-mist rolled in, right beside the take-off path for the Hancock County Airport, and so close to the highway that you could scarcely hear yourself shouting. A few people had pre-ordered chicken instead of lobster, but on the night some of our guests took the chicken, they didn't have any more, and poor Jonny & Fiona, not into seafood, were finally given one small, miserable hotdog each with a few potato crisps.
However, the craic was great. Bryan's wife Jill performed a version of Home on the Range tailored to us, Emma made awards to everyone for something, and I closed the evening and the event with a presentation to Bryan and a word from the Word. Jill, Bryan's creative wife, had a framed picture for everyone which everyone signed and wrote on, and so it was over. Almost the final incident of the night was a conversation with a lady and her 69-year-old mother who had watched us signing each other's pictures and were intrigued with why we had done this. They wanted our cards, and were going home
to look on the website. Back to the house where Paul B, Emma, Zack and I were staying, the home of Ed & Anne Damm, two erstwhile hippies who have a musical-instrument shop in Bar Harbor specialising in celtic instruments. Nice folks, pleasantly laid-back.
May reflect more on the trip later, but for now I'm just glad it's over and everyone safe. To God be all the praise.Thank you for your true partnership in it, not only by giving but also by praying. I believe God fully answered.In His love and grace.
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