It was 60 miles into this ride that I thought to myself, I really need to plan my attacks better with regard to the high-mile rides. My brother Andrew, also a bicycle mechanic, was performing in Cambridge later that night. So embarking on this ride that took me off the edge of the map I had with me, continuing to turn left, ever outward, further, ever seeking more, may have not been the best choice. But it was a blast. This route was pretty random. Three stretches of dirt starting with Belle Marsh Rd, McGovern, and Josiah Norton. When back on Tatnic Rd again in York, I thought about how most of those dirt roads were smoother than the frost heaves I was enduring heading east. Damn frost heaves.
37 graveyards total. Number 19 was just a lone grave in the forest, soon to be surrounded by rural suburban sprawl. I had to stop and consult the map at one point when the road forked at the Massabesic Experimental Forest near Alfred. "Massawhussa where the hell am I?" I thought. When I left the driveway, I had no inclination I would end up in National Forest land.
I got home around dusk. I stuffed my face with pasta, took a shower, and as soon as we were able, Eli and I were headed to Cambridge to see Andrew. Needless to say, we missed his performance. We had dinner, a few beers, and said our goodbyes as he and the band headed out for an all night drive.
Check the route here at my new Map My Ride account..
Showing posts with label graveyards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label graveyards. Show all posts
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Berwicks, Dirt, and Dead People, 74 Miles Indian Summer
I tried leaving by ten. I did! So I finally rolled out at 11. Which often means a mad dash home while the sun is saying its bedside prayers. What a freaking beautiful day it was Monday too. Sunny and warm, I was overdressed in two layers. The arm warmers and gloves came off and stashed away. The oak leaves seem to be just about the last ones in the trees and even they're losing their grip.
First I ran into Peter walking his adorable dog Bean. We talked about work, lack of it, lack of motivation, and making the most of our free time. Then I pedaled on in the rare instance of clockwise order. Eliot, South Berwick, and then out. Up almost to Berwick, then right at Blackberry Road. And that's where I ran into Brian. Geez, everybody's out on a beautiful day like that. I talked to Brian for a bit next to graveyard no. 16. He knows those roads out there better than I and suggested a general direction. So what do I do as soon as we part? Hang the next left going waay out further, totally away from his recommended route.
Ultimately I saw 35 graveyards on this ride. This is no exaggeration, I counted every last one and only once. I am certain I missed at least two on top of this confirmed number.
I also went by a rock quarry, and a plastic sign in front of somebody's house that read "Protect America's Freedom, Leave The United Nations!" Wow. To think we have to share this patch of dirt.
Speaking of dirt, the first bit I got to roll over was just 6 miles into this thing, on Bartlett Rd. Mile 55 or so found me once again on Cheney Woods road climbing and then descending the rocky dirt. And finally, mile 60 or so, I was on Josiah Norton, pedaling over the dirt again. Addicted to fixed gears and dirt roads. Sick in so many ways. Once again the sun was hanging low by the time I rolled up the driveway. At least I could still see the ground. I need to start leaving earlier.
First I ran into Peter walking his adorable dog Bean. We talked about work, lack of it, lack of motivation, and making the most of our free time. Then I pedaled on in the rare instance of clockwise order. Eliot, South Berwick, and then out. Up almost to Berwick, then right at Blackberry Road. And that's where I ran into Brian. Geez, everybody's out on a beautiful day like that. I talked to Brian for a bit next to graveyard no. 16. He knows those roads out there better than I and suggested a general direction. So what do I do as soon as we part? Hang the next left going waay out further, totally away from his recommended route.
Ultimately I saw 35 graveyards on this ride. This is no exaggeration, I counted every last one and only once. I am certain I missed at least two on top of this confirmed number.
I also went by a rock quarry, and a plastic sign in front of somebody's house that read "Protect America's Freedom, Leave The United Nations!" Wow. To think we have to share this patch of dirt.
Speaking of dirt, the first bit I got to roll over was just 6 miles into this thing, on Bartlett Rd. Mile 55 or so found me once again on Cheney Woods road climbing and then descending the rocky dirt. And finally, mile 60 or so, I was on Josiah Norton, pedaling over the dirt again. Addicted to fixed gears and dirt roads. Sick in so many ways. Once again the sun was hanging low by the time I rolled up the driveway. At least I could still see the ground. I need to start leaving earlier.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Escape From Prouts Neck, 69.69 Miles
After getting out the vote, I got dropped off in the slums of Prouts Neck, left to fend for myself. Armed with some copies of pages from the Gazetteer atlas, I set out to untangle the knotted ball of roads that stood between me and home. The route looked squirly requiring travel in the wrong direction a couple times. Twenty miles of this ride were accumulated by heading far enough west to circumvent the Saco River without having to cross I95.
I thought to myself that this awkward layout of roads must have come about from early settlers having just an rough idea where they were headed when they set out to cut a road through the woods. Or maybe these small intersection towns were just never a priority to get directly to. In any case, it was a zig zag route with the goal of remaining west of I95.
I stopped at Spiller Farm Feeds and Needs store. I got apples from the farm, a home baked apple turnover, a banana and water. It was a cool little independent store surrounded by the Spiller farm.
Once again the sun set on me while I was still navigating Bell Marsh dirt. It seemed as if the Sun took an hour to slowly fall beneath the treeline. I squeezed every last ray out until the road was finally overtaken by darkness. Soon enough, the waning remnants of last night's full Hunter's moon silvered the asphalt and it is under this light that I finally pulled up my driveway exhausted. I counted 17 graveyards. The first half of this ride only produced the first five. See the mapped out route here...
I thought to myself that this awkward layout of roads must have come about from early settlers having just an rough idea where they were headed when they set out to cut a road through the woods. Or maybe these small intersection towns were just never a priority to get directly to. In any case, it was a zig zag route with the goal of remaining west of I95.
I stopped at Spiller Farm Feeds and Needs store. I got apples from the farm, a home baked apple turnover, a banana and water. It was a cool little independent store surrounded by the Spiller farm.
Once again the sun set on me while I was still navigating Bell Marsh dirt. It seemed as if the Sun took an hour to slowly fall beneath the treeline. I squeezed every last ray out until the road was finally overtaken by darkness. Soon enough, the waning remnants of last night's full Hunter's moon silvered the asphalt and it is under this light that I finally pulled up my driveway exhausted. I counted 17 graveyards. The first half of this ride only produced the first five. See the mapped out route here...
Thursday, October 29, 2009
68 Miles Into The Darkness...
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.
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.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Across The Great Bay Again: Clockwise for 50+ Miles...
The problem with this time of year, is getting the warm layers right. Today I was sure I would be shaking in my booties. Within 15 miles, I peeled away 4 heat conserving items cause I was too freakin hot. I was wearing a Specialized Deflect Trail jacket I had bought earlier in the year. I don't know who it was designed for. But there is waay too much material in the upper arm. It becomes quite annoying when the arms get to a-flappin in the wind like a flag atop a ship's mast. The jacket also turns out to breathe about as well as any other "breathable" water resistant material I've come across. That is to say, about as breathable as a plastic bag. It was dripping inside. I tied it around my frame and kept going.
Checking out this loop south from Portsmouth, through Greenland, back up to Pease, across the cool abandoned bridge, Dover Pt. Road, tagged Dover, back through Eliot. I forgot to count the grave yards! I'm going to guess over 15. 4 hours and 50 plus miles. I have a hard time believing it was only 50 miles. Whatever.
Checking out this loop south from Portsmouth, through Greenland, back up to Pease, across the cool abandoned bridge, Dover Pt. Road, tagged Dover, back through Eliot. I forgot to count the grave yards! I'm going to guess over 15. 4 hours and 50 plus miles. I have a hard time believing it was only 50 miles. Whatever.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Descending Upon The Earth
Snow, mixed with rain. Nice ride home from Portsmouth in falling slush. 30 miles earlier before getting downtown by 12. This loop is short, but not short of graveyards. I'm counting 11 graveyards on this ride. I think I'm missing at least two more that don't come to mind...New England is full of dead people.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Golf Courses and Graveyards, 59 Miles of New Hampshire
I had been reluctant to delve into mileage rides in NH because from Portsmouth, it all just seems like a bunghole of freeways and fast 4 lane roads. I know there are some sweet two laner 35mph'ers out there somewhere. So I consulted the maps, donned 5 layers of protection against the 
41 deg. damp a
ir out there, and headed for Exeter via the Great Bay.
Things started out just fine until I was riding on Rte. 33. I usually don't prefer to ride on busy roads like Rte. 33. Today I was despising it. Things got better as I found my way around the south side of Pease Air Base and the great abandoned bridge over the north end of Great Bay. Then back to the suck for a ways on Rte. 4 until finally hooking a lefty at Durham Point Rd. That road was beautiful.
Before I could ride victorious into Exeter, I was sick of riding on 33/108. I stopped at Sweet
Dreams Bakery for a sandwich, espresso, and directions. Good food, very nice people. They helped me figure out an alternate route dodging Exeter all together in favor of turning back towards Portsmouth.
I passed at least 5 golf courses and 15 graveyards on this ride. This route had some nice sections along Durham Point Rd., the bridge closed to cars, and Bunker Hill Rd back to Portsmouth. I think if there were a way to dodge Rte. 33, 108, 4, it would be a sweet ride.
View Larger Map
41 deg. damp a
ir out there, and headed for Exeter via the Great Bay.Things started out just fine until I was riding on Rte. 33. I usually don't prefer to ride on busy roads like Rte. 33. Today I was despising it. Things got better as I found my way around the south side of Pease Air Base and the great abandoned bridge over the north end of Great Bay. Then back to the suck for a ways on Rte. 4 until finally hooking a lefty at Durham Point Rd. That road was beautiful.
Before I could ride victorious into Exeter, I was sick of riding on 33/108. I stopped at Sweet
Dreams Bakery for a sandwich, espresso, and directions. Good food, very nice people. They helped me figure out an alternate route dodging Exeter all together in favor of turning back towards Portsmouth.I passed at least 5 golf courses and 15 graveyards on this ride. This route had some nice sections along Durham Point Rd., the bridge closed to cars, and Bunker Hill Rd back to Portsmouth. I think if there were a way to dodge Rte. 33, 108, 4, it would be a sweet ride.
View Larger Map
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