Gig Harbor Washington to Bar Harbor Maine 2001

Put on my warm riding clothes at about 1am, but it didn't get too cold and I slept well. It was 59 in my tent in the morning and 55 outside. Guess the record cold spell is over.

We were on the road before 7:30, trying to get in some miles before the Sunday insanity hit. A lot of the motor homes in the park left before we did, which did not bode well for us. Still, traffic was pretty light on our route. The motor homes must stick to the interstate.

Another Pink Floyd album cover?

The route went all kinds of screwy places today, and the mileage and street names seldom matched up. I came to a 'T' intersection where I was supposed to go straight onto a numbered highway. The road didn't go straight. There wasn't a road number, just an unfamiliar name, and the road I was on had an unfamiliar name. I stared at the intersection and my map for awhile and finally decided I'd screwed up and missed a turn. I turned around and climbed back over the vicious hills I'd just suffered through. Then I saw Mike. He hadn't seen any other turn, so we went back to the intersection and picked a direction. It miraculously turned out to be the route. My brain is so fried from endless riding, sun and traffic, that if I can't easily relate the map to the road, I'm stumped. I'm incapable of creative thinking or decision making. One more day.

We started riding through more touristy towns, but there was a new twist. They were centered around water with big sailboats moored in them, just like home. It slowly struck me that I was riding along the Atlantic Ocean. We did it! We rode coast to coast! And we've ridden over 4000 miles. The only thing left is to bag Bar Harbor to complete the Harbor to Harbor tour. Wahoo.

Recovering

Mike was having a rough day today. I could tell because I kept catching up with him at stores and ice cream stands. We had some ice cream together and decided where to stop for the night. A couple of miles later the sugar wore off and I needed more fuel. I stopped at a gas station and got a slice of pizza and a roast beef sandwich. The store owner used to race a lot and bike-commute 52 miles a day. He told me about a local family that rode the Seattle to Bar Harbor route. The mom lost control on one of the outrageous Vermont descents and wound up in a coma for weeks. After five years of recuperating and training, they went back to Vermont to finish. Within 50 miles, the mom lost control again, but this time she died! I knew that was a tough stretch of road.

We made it to our campground at about 6 and decided not to push it any further tonight. We got cleaned up and headed out to refuel. I'm so tired of being underfueled I stuffed myself on steak and baked potato, then had a candy bar, cookies and chocolate milk for dessert while I soaked my legs in the Atlantic Ocean.

Bar Harbor, Bar Harbor. We'll be there tomorrow. It's only 65 miles away.