A lot of miles under the spokes.
Amongst the emails of congratlations for reaching the east coast I get this one from Marsy.
“Gratulations, Shawn and Sherpa, you have arrived at the coastal east, there on your inner hemisphere. Here, on the outer, all H2O lies below ground: pockets, streams, geysers, the great sea of caves. Voices At Sea (LLf entry 015VS in ebike2mars.com) was written near R.I. Isn’t that where your CP is leading you? Spin safely, Marsy and Botta.”
I go to her website, www.ebike2mars.com What a trip! It’s like Timothy Leary, Lewis Carrol and Dr. Seuss on a road trip.
Of course the coast of Maine along A1A is lovely. I heave great sigs of relief to be seeing boats and water not corn and tractors.
Blondie (my GPS) takes me through downtown Boston today. I have never cycled through a major metropolitan area and find it fascinating- it’s good to do something new. Everyone seems very out for themselves- you know, cut in front, honk at you to get out of the way, etc. It is ironical, because you would think that with a all those people crammed into a small space everyone would be more courteous… But I know nothing about cities..
Community gardens sprout in the burbs.
I plan on camping at a Walmart just south of Boston. When I get there, I see that camping is impossible. It is too congested, the area is rough. Google maps satellite shows me a wooded area close and I head for it. I end up camping on asphalt 25 feet from the train tracks. I sleep in my clothes, sticky from the long hot days ride. Later that night I discover that the homeless people know about it too as they move in and want to talk to me.. Sherpa does not get charged up. A local Motel 6 is $115 a night, and I can’t bring myself to spend that much for that hotel.
I wake and pack and get out early. Ii am headed for Windsor Conn. which is 115 miles away. That is a long ride especially considering my fatigue and Sherpa’s state of charge. I am glad to leave the Boston megapolis and get back into the country. Boy, what hilly country. It is severe rolly pollies. A number of the grades are marked 10%! Sherpa cannot make it up those grades carrying me, so I walk alongside. There is only a very small shoulder and I am very cautious with the curvy roads and trucks.
It is getting dark and I am walking up a long 10% grade. Sherpa’s motor controller is cutting out due to low voltage, meaning that I have to push Sherpa up the hills. My legs are aching. I turn on the lights when I hear approaching motorists. I feel desperate, I may have to put out my thumb, I don’t want to get hit. But as I crest the hill there is a downhill and the shoulder widens. I hop on and ride, and after a few miles find a bait store with an outlet! They are closing, but tell me of a close hotel! So I ride another mile and check in. Comfort heaven!
Despair to bliss in 45 minutes… The emotional roller coaster.