I was slackin' this morning, not sure if I was going to ride or not. But it is beautiful East Coast fall outside right now and too soon it will be followed with slush covered ice. So around noon I suited up, filled

the water bottles and rolled out for North Berwick. There are three Berwicks and North Berwick is the furthest north of the three. It seemed like an exotic destination because nobody ever has an excuse to go to North Berwick. I haven't been there in the two years I've lived here. I've actually only been there once, on a bike ride about 8 years ago. Prior to departure I had looked up espresso joints in North Berwick. They have a Dunken Donuts. But there is also
Carpe Diem coffee roasters on Rte. 9 just north of North B. So I headed there to see if they actually served coffee, or just roasted. There is a reception room where there is coffee, hot water for tea, and other stuff you can buy. The people there were really nice. But the coffee was 'eh. A blend of two S. American coffees, and French roasted Sumatra. Its' a strange choice of beans to blend. But I couldn't really tell the result as the brew was too weak and tasted as if it were made that morning. They do roast some good coffee. My guess is the coffee station in the reception room is sort of an after thought.
Coffee down, and onward. I had passed the
ET Eastern Trail bike route on Tuesday's ride. So this time around, I headed out on it, further north. My instincts were telling me to turn around and start back south. But the road kept calling and I was powerless to ignore it. I was within 10 miles of Sanford before I started making my round about way back south bound.
This whole time I had a map I copied out of the Maine Gazetteer that I referenced frequently. In fact I lost this map out of my jersey pocket. But I thought I'd heard it fly out of the pocket. So I back tracked a mile searching the side of the road until I spotted it. Good thing I did! I was in uncharted territory. I would have had to try to head left from the sun's trajectory to make it home.
The Gazetteer marked Cranberry Rd as continuing as dirt south of Rte. 9. So for some unexplainable reason, I decided that was my route. I'd already done about 3 miles of dirt and gravel roads form Bell Marsh and Emery's Bride (road construction). Looking across 9, I saw

what looked like a drive way behind a trailer, that ended in a pile of tree trunks. I took a left, and a quick right. And there, by the entrance to a school, was what looked like a wide single track through the woods, Cranberry Road. I got in about 1/2 mile before the first pond taking up the width of the "road" for 5 meters. The rest of the way until the final 1/4 mile was swamped with deep puddles. I was forced to portage most of that way. Turns out this section of Cranberry Rd. doesn't show as connecting on Google Maps. Pretty wild.
Finally back on pavement, another New England road without a name. I guessed and went right which actually worked out. Now I was finally getting close to South Berwick.

By that point the sun was sitting pretty low. I got a little panic. No lights, 30 miles to go. I put the hammer down and started cruising south bound. By the time I was leaving Eliot, it was just about dark. The moon lit up the dark sections of road. It was pretty sketchy.
I counted 24 grave yards on this ride, not counting repeats. I counted 6 fake or plastic graveyards in Halloween decorating fashion. I think it's odd in an area where every house that's a hundred years or older, has a small very real graveyard on the property, the styrofoam graves in the front yard are still a popular way to show one's holiday spirit. The mockery of death, an odd means to try and quell the fear people have about the part of the life cycle which is death. This one here was in North Berwick. It was act

ually painted plywood, obviously the work of a crafty holiday decorator, replete with names of the imaginary deceased and birth/death dates. Perhaps the real 150+ year old graveyard across the street made for a good model.
Check out this video, you'll get a brief sense of the ride.
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