91.1 miles Avg 12.8MPH Top Speed: 38.4MPH
Total: 278.61 Miles
Marmite! Marmite in an American household? That is what I thought I had heard from Marie as we were expertly devouring gelato in downtown Brunswick last night. Well, this morning was my opportunity to give this stuff a go. It was a marmite jar, but it had the consistency of vegemite. Surely one of our nations weirdest flavourings wouldn’t have been tampered with in such a way. Well, although it didn’t have the bitterness of Unilever’s finest, it still went down well in this wonderfully novel breakfast spread that also consisted of a creamy sweetcorn gravy and potatoes. For Breakfast! Still, The Penners expressed their disbelief at our hankering for mushrooms and beans before lunchtime, so I didn’t argue, and it did taste good, so there.
I left my new friends/guardians/nurses at about 10 o’clock aiming to get into Conway, New Hampshire to stay with friends of the Penners. Today was the first day I had left the coastline and began to move inland, the landscape changed dramatically within 10 miles or so, from bustling historic towns to rural farms and wheatfields. One thing remain the same, though. Hills. Bloody hills. I cannot tell you how sick of hills I am. It is hard to enjoy your surroundings when you’re dragging the equivalent of fat triplets uphill behind you.
I went through a beautiful marina town called Naples when I realised I may not make it to Conway on account of having gone an accumulative 16 miles out of my way with wrong turns. My legs were tiring, so I thought I’d find somewhere in the next town of Bridgton. I went to the campsite, but they wanted $44 so I cycled around for a bit looking for somewhere nice when I realised I’d lost my map. My one and only map for the region. So I had to go looking for the damn thing otherwise I’d never make it out of here. What ensued was a 4 mile climb up a hill retracing my wheels before, with great relief, I eventually found the bloody thing sitting limply on the hard shoulder. Then I had to find somewhere to sleep. I eventually found a disused campground by a lake which was perfect, but by the time I‘d done all this riding around I could easily have made it to Conway and stayed at the Penners’ friends house. Oh well, you live and learn. Live, anyway.
There was still time for another screw up, though. Oh yes, there always is. As I was unpacking my stuff I realised I’d left my washbag at the Penners’. That washbag had all my lenses and glasses in it. Off to the local optician tomorrow morning then, no doubt I’ll walk through the doors squinting like a bukkake victim. Oh, and I stink, too. Tomorrow could be a weird one…
Total: 278.61 Miles
Marmite! Marmite in an American household? That is what I thought I had heard from Marie as we were expertly devouring gelato in downtown Brunswick last night. Well, this morning was my opportunity to give this stuff a go. It was a marmite jar, but it had the consistency of vegemite. Surely one of our nations weirdest flavourings wouldn’t have been tampered with in such a way. Well, although it didn’t have the bitterness of Unilever’s finest, it still went down well in this wonderfully novel breakfast spread that also consisted of a creamy sweetcorn gravy and potatoes. For Breakfast! Still, The Penners expressed their disbelief at our hankering for mushrooms and beans before lunchtime, so I didn’t argue, and it did taste good, so there.
I left my new friends/guardians/nurses at about 10 o’clock aiming to get into Conway, New Hampshire to stay with friends of the Penners. Today was the first day I had left the coastline and began to move inland, the landscape changed dramatically within 10 miles or so, from bustling historic towns to rural farms and wheatfields. One thing remain the same, though. Hills. Bloody hills. I cannot tell you how sick of hills I am. It is hard to enjoy your surroundings when you’re dragging the equivalent of fat triplets uphill behind you.
I went through a beautiful marina town called Naples when I realised I may not make it to Conway on account of having gone an accumulative 16 miles out of my way with wrong turns. My legs were tiring, so I thought I’d find somewhere in the next town of Bridgton. I went to the campsite, but they wanted $44 so I cycled around for a bit looking for somewhere nice when I realised I’d lost my map. My one and only map for the region. So I had to go looking for the damn thing otherwise I’d never make it out of here. What ensued was a 4 mile climb up a hill retracing my wheels before, with great relief, I eventually found the bloody thing sitting limply on the hard shoulder. Then I had to find somewhere to sleep. I eventually found a disused campground by a lake which was perfect, but by the time I‘d done all this riding around I could easily have made it to Conway and stayed at the Penners’ friends house. Oh well, you live and learn. Live, anyway.
There was still time for another screw up, though. Oh yes, there always is. As I was unpacking my stuff I realised I’d left my washbag at the Penners’. That washbag had all my lenses and glasses in it. Off to the local optician tomorrow morning then, no doubt I’ll walk through the doors squinting like a bukkake victim. Oh, and I stink, too. Tomorrow could be a weird one…
I'm guessing it was a dog, but you don't really think of these things when you're hungry.
Another beautiful Maine lake.
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