Day 59 Lobster Pots

We had a great breakfast at the Admiral Peary bed and breakfast. Donna the proprietor had a giant egg casserole, great cinnamon-apple bread and sausages. As an added bonus, she also did our laundry for us overnight. First class accommodations!

We left Fryeburg, Maine with a little bit of blue sky showing. The forest was both pine and hardwood trees.

The Eastern White pine trees smelled great in the cool morning air. They are indigenous to Maine. We have seen a lot of forests and logging trucks on our trip, but no sawmills. Until today.

Hancock Lumber has been around since 1848 and are in their sixth generation of family ownership. They have sawmills, factories that make components like roof trusses, and retail lumber yards. We have been seeing their lumber yards since we entered New Hampshire. They are based in Casco, Maine which we rode through today. Here they are unloading a log truck. In the background you can see a payloader that takes the logs into the mill.

The large silver buildings are where the lumber is dried.

The saw mill was indoors so we couldn’t see it. The sawn boards were dropped into these bins from overhead via a conveyor. There were 50 or so bins.

Today’s terrain was rolling hills, much like southwestern Pennsylvania. The countryside had a lot of stone walls. We did see a spot in New Hampshire with stone walls but nothing like today.

I was taking the picture of the lobster trap (pot) on the stone wall at the top of the post when the owner came out. He said that the wooden ones are old and not used anymore. The ones used today are made from steel wire like this one. It was also perched on the stone wall.

He then told me that they have two parts, a “kitchen”, where the bait is located, and the “parlor”, which prevents the lobster from escaping. The best part was listening to his thick Maine accent. Here is another modern lobster pot he had on his stone wall.

What I really wanted to ask him is why he had the pots on his wall? But I didn’t get a chance so we’ll never know.

There were several large lakes along our route today. This is the Long Lake in Naples, Maine. There was an excursion boat on the lake for the summer months.

Naples also had this Maine fisherman statue.

We saw a bunch of buildings that used wood shakes for siding. When you look closer at this big old red barn you can see the shakes.

Tonight we are in Brunswick, Maine. This Brunswick has nothing to do with the bowling alley people. We are nine miles away from Freeport, Maine where L.L. Bean’s mothership is located.

Another great day of cycling. A good adventure is when each day is better than the previous day. The last couple of weeks have been just like that.

Stats

Fryeburg to Brunswick, Maine
Distance: 77.6 miles (125 km)
Climbing: 4310 feet (1314 m)
Temperature: 45 – 52°F (7 – 11°C)

Dad and Bicycles

Dad retired in 1995 from Proctor and Gamble at the age of 60 and made plans to ride his bike across the USA the following summer. He hooked up with Wandering Wheels, an outfit based in Upland, Indiana. The principal was Bob Davenport who took a group or two across the country every year. They called him Coach. He has written a book about his 50 years of cycling adventures.

Wandering Wheels carried the cyclist’s luggage in a big van and provided breakfast and evening meals. The cyclists were on a rotating schedule to assist with the meals. Besides the Coach, there were two other Wandering Wheel people on the trip.

To keep the costs down they overnighted in churches. The Coach had connections with pastors who would come and unlock the church and let them stay the night. Then you found a spot for your pad, unrolled your sleeping bag and settled in for the night. They only stayed in hotels now and then.

Their 3,200 mile adventure began in Seattle, Washington and ended in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. There were 65 riders and the ride took 42 days.

Herb took Mom to Shenandoah, Iowa to see Dad as he passed through.

Since we were living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania at the time I got to ride with Dad as he passed through West Virginia. Our friend, Cecelia Mason (second most famous person I know) lives there and helped with the logistics. Cecelia and I met Dad in the morning, ate oatmeal, listened to the day’s ride briefing and then peddled with him the 70 or so miles to another church. We stopped for lunch at a cafe. I do not remember the towns. I just remember that Dad wasn’t fazed by the hills.

To be continued…