Sept 17

A hardy breakfast of blueberry pancakes and a short conversation with some of the locals and we are off on the second day in Maine. The weather once again is in our favor -- clear skies, warm, with a gentle fall breeze.

The first venture of the day is to cross the Penobscot River -- first on a normal highway bridge, then next another crossing, but on one under construction. Not hard to do in a car, but does create a moment of anxiety on a bike! All crossed with no problems and immediately headed up the hill on the other side.

Now the area was doted with some old homes from the era of whaling. Beautiful large mansions adored with widow's watches high on their peaks. Each one unique and elegant in their own right sitting high on a cliff's edge in perfect view of the port below. Fortunately for these old estates, someone new has chosen to restore and maintain. Occasionally one does find one that has slipped through the cracks and no one has taken on the responsibility to bring the ship captain's home alive again. Sad, but true!

The road less traveled is the route of choice this day. Like a roller coaster ride we ascend and descend over the countryside through small conclaves of homes, forests thick with fir, aspen, maple and oak, and pass fields of Queen's Ann lace, Golden Rod, Lupine, and the grasses all blowing in the wind. Fall is rapidly approaching now, so the colors are beginning to change. The Queen's Ann Lace is taking on a rust look saying good bye for another year to the head of white. The Golden Rod is a bright yellow standing tall as if to say its last hurrah before diving into the winter sleep. The flower of the lupine is long gone, but the stem still waves a hello as we ride by. The grasses of the fields are now the golden brown of September. Even the air is beginning to smell like fall. While warm in temperature, there is still that crisp feeling.

Today is Sunday so the flea markets are in full swing. Several tempt us, but purchases are hard to carry on a bike, so it is onward and upward. Stockton Springs, Searsport, Belfast, and Lincolnville Center are all small former fishing ports turned quaint tourist stops. But the quaintest to date is our lunch stop of the day. Camden, Maine! Shops, restaurants, parks, tall ships docked in the bay, -- everything a biking tourist would want and enjoy!!!

Full and ready to roll the group heads out and down the coast to the next port. Rockport is but three miles on US 1, but barely a town. Then West Rockport, to Warren and onto Waldoboro. Our hotel for the evening is the Moody's Motel. As we approach the small village of Waldoboro we notice that everything is named Moody. At the top of a large hill sits Moody's -- maybe this is our place. No such luck -- need to travel another few miles up and down and up and down the road! Now look, there is Moody's Garage, and isn't that Moody's Grocery Store? Must be getting close. Oh -- here we are Moody's Diner!!! And behind it is Moody's Motel. But alas -- Moody's Motel sits on top of the hill -- a hill ten times steeper than any we have attacked to date!

But we are tough and up we go. Small cabins are the home tonight. Moody likes to keep the place simple but clean. Dinner at the Diner and to bed we go, but not before saying goodbye to Maxwell, who must leave early in the morning to return to the reality of real life and work. We will miss him.