BikeToAustralia
Would you like to react to this message? Create an account in a few clicks or log in to continue.
Donate through Paypal
Search
 
 

Display results as :
 


Rechercher Advanced Search

Latest topics
» From home near Boston to Phoenix
My Journey - August 2011 EmptyFri Jul 04, 2014 11:36 am by ChasingSanity

» Carthage Press 2014 July 1 with Rebecca Haines
My Journey - August 2011 EmptyFri Jul 04, 2014 8:58 am by ChasingSanity

» My Journey - June 2012
My Journey - August 2011 EmptyThu Jun 28, 2012 2:45 pm by ChasingSanity

» My Journey - April 2012
My Journey - August 2011 EmptyWed Apr 04, 2012 2:04 am by ChasingSanity

» My Journey - March 2012 (United Kingdom)
My Journey - August 2011 EmptySun Apr 01, 2012 5:53 am by ChasingSanity

» A REAL space catapult in my lifetime?!
My Journey - August 2011 EmptyTue Mar 13, 2012 5:48 pm by ChasingSanity

» Prose and poetry
My Journey - August 2011 EmptyThu Feb 23, 2012 8:59 am by ChasingSanity

» My Journey - February 2012
My Journey - August 2011 EmptyThu Feb 23, 2012 8:57 am by ChasingSanity

» My Journey - January 2012
My Journey - August 2011 EmptyTue Jan 10, 2012 9:27 am by ChasingSanity

Navigation
 Portal
 Index
 Memberlist
 Profile
 FAQ
 Search
March 2024
MonTueWedThuFriSatSun
    123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Calendar Calendar


My Journey - August 2011

Go down

My Journey - August 2011 Empty My Journey - August 2011

Post  ChasingSanity Fri Aug 05, 2011 2:30 pm

I bet you thought I was dead or stopped pedaling. Nope! I am in Portsmouth, NH, sitting at a small table in a Panera Bread (and coffee) shop and WIFI hotspot. I am poised to continue telling my tail off.

I said good bye to my new friends in Salem then rode away. I thought about ways to keep track of who is who; I meet so many people and some feel hurt I don't remember which one they are. I have friends I only know on the internet and friends I met yesterday and friends that have burrowed their roots deeper into my heart. What do I call the Facebook group of people I actually met in person? "Met, hugged and waved goodbye" I cried at that thought, I have tears in my eyes now. That is the hardest part of this journey, I attract good people like me, spark a fire in our hearts and ride away. That is a heavy price and a necessary sacrifice. I want to see the world. I am traveling on and they are settled down.

I stopped just west of Gloucester, MA for the night. Wink I took pictures of the landmark on the road near my campsite, pictures of the unique tree while I was standing next to my tent and pictures of my campsite. Can you locals track down where, exactly, I was camped?

I rode through Gloucester and asked some guys coming back from snnorkeling about camping for the night (free camping without getting arrested or shot). They confirmed my suspicions; next to the water back the way they came would do the job and if that did not work, I could camp in their backyard. I said, why not avoid the possibilities of not working and just stick the the back yard?

Jamison Knowlton was the guy I asked, I forget the names of his three friends but Jim Knowlton is Jamison's dad. Jim is a serious talker. I think everybody was happy Jim had a new listener to talk to. Smile Jim said I could sleep in the camper out back. They took me out on Jim's power boat for most of the next day, Sunday. I slept in the camper again then rode on. They told me about working as a volunteer fopr Burnham's Shipbuilding in Essex and about the tall ship races ina month, back in Gloucester.

I stopped at Burnham's and asked about working for them. I answered a lot of curious questions from Harold Burnham then got to work sanding the wood on the Ardelle. Smile I camped out in the Chebacco Woods a few miles away. I painted the next day.

I got to be part of a rare opportunity - logs come in to Burnham's Shipbuilding and ships go out. I worked on the Ardelle and I was on a maiden voyage of the Ardelle, there were no sails or even spars up so they used the diesal engine to go a little ways upriver and back.

Harold's daughter, Perry, wanted to know if it was OK to jump into the water on the river. Harold said sure but watch out, it's shallow. She made nervous sounds and motions. I stripped down to bike shorts while I wolfed down my sandwich, looked over at the lines holding the dingy in place next to me and jumped off backwards into the water. They thought I fell overboard.

I came up for air and said, swallow the food first, then jump off. Smile I was the first one to jump overboard.

I was getting anxious about getting back on the road. I want to spread the seeds of sailing possibility up the coast as far as I can; is there a sail boat ready for me just up the coast? Harold also told me it is hard to work onn a longterm project with someone who is only there for a few days. He wanted me to choose; leave or stay.

I rode on into New Hampsire. I saw a beach house and asked if they had showers. Sure enough. I confirmed prior memories; a hot shower is one of the underappreciated experiences in life. This shower was very cold.

I rode into Portsmouth, NH. A guy I met in a McDonnald's on the way in told me about Harbor Place. They might have people around there sailing places or know somebody.

I stopped at three thrift stores along the way. I was looking for... what was I looking for? I have a wish list just for thrift stores; USB cable connectiong phone to laptop, socks (both thick wool and thin synthetic), camping and bicycle stuff. One place had a simple thick nylon bag destined to become my next cell phone bag, a military style duffel bag and a roll up exercise mat - an upgrade to my bedding. Each cost me a dollar! They gave me several utility knife blades for free.

I asked a guy in Portsmouth, NH for directions. Jim went to bike mechanic school in Colorado a while back. Yep, we got to talking. Jim aind Ellen, his wife, let me stay the night. Jim tinkered with my bike late into the night. I went the local news to see if they wanted to do a story about me. Everybody had gone home by 4PM, some would not be in until Monday.

Jim and Ellen told me in the morning, before I went wandering around, to come back if I needed, for the night. Jim wanted to know his tinkering worked out before I jumped off into the great beyond.

I walked over the Memorial Bridge and found out I am now in Maine?!

Uploading pictures onto Photobucket now BikeToAustralia on Photobucket


Last edited by ChasingSanity on Sat Sep 24, 2011 7:10 am; edited 1 time in total
ChasingSanity
ChasingSanity
Admin

Posts : 144
Join date : 2010-04-07

http://biketoaustralia.roflforum.net

Back to top Go down

My Journey - August 2011 Empty Re: My Journey - August 2011

Post  ChasingSanity Sun Aug 07, 2011 3:42 pm

Sunday, August 7th, 2011
Today, I stopped at every thrift shop and antique store in search of a fountain pen. Several people handed me a pen. No, not quite it. I did find a pair of very gaudy yellow and blue socks that are thick but not wool. I am in Ogunquit, ME in the lobby of the northmost hotel on the right hand side; Ogunquit River Inn.

Yesterday, I met a man in Eliot, Maine (ME) rinding his bicycle from Brooklyn to Halifax. He is a photographer. In the evening, I met a married couple riding their bicycles google pedalstory) around the USA. https://sites.google.com/site/pedalstory/ THEN, I met a man riding his bicycle back home from Michigan. I think he lives in Portsmouth, ME. That was an amazing day.

Oh, I noticed a bunch of things here and on Photobucket need a little work. I need a new housekeeping staff. :looks around threateningly and only finds a mirror:
ChasingSanity
ChasingSanity
Admin

Posts : 144
Join date : 2010-04-07

http://biketoaustralia.roflforum.net

Back to top Go down

My Journey - August 2011 Empty Re: My Journey - August 2011

Post  ChasingSanity Thu Sep 01, 2011 11:33 am

Last wrote about Ogunquit. Was an amazing day, met 4 bicyclist tourists.

Sunday, August 28th, 2011
I am so busy riding as fast as I can to one possibility after another. Newspapers doing stories about me, boats going to Europe but already gone... possibilities.

I camped out behind the Eliot, ME (ME is Maine) police station with George and... his wife... was it George? They are Pedalstory.

When I crawled out of my tent in the morning, they were gone. I packed up then rode north. (Getting my map of Maine out.)

I went to the Biddeford WalMart and bought supplies. I bought tortillas, yogurt, cheese and a box of Good Earth Original tea. I did not notice the tea was not the caffeine free version. I get my caffeine from coffee; oops.

I looked for a place to camp. Dusk was quickly approaching. I came up over a small hill and around a bend in the road to find this gorgeous panorama spread out before me. Expensive houses on the edge of the ocean fell before curly bushes. like curly hair ended in a narrow beach with dramatic and picturesque waves furling into the shore. There were outcroppings of dark rocks, miniature islands, about ten feet high, that probably stirred up the waves from underneath. The clouds in the background, at sunset... this was amazing. My mental flag to take a picture went up, waving enthusiastically. I pulled off the side of the road and made a video.

I rode further down the beach and pulled over again to watch the antics of surfers. I decided waiting for the perfect wave was not going to make them better surfers. Riding every wave big enough that they could catch, squeezing experience out of every opportunity was better. It might not feed their egos but they would become better surfers.

I do that myself on a social level; I talk with all kinds of people, pet animal companions and pray for the perfect bicycling companion(s) to come my way - massage therapist/osteopath, doctor/nurse, business manager, personal valet riding her own fully equipped, self-sustained touring bicycle. A mixed group of bicyclists would be even better. I pray for the perfect wave but I surf every social opportunity preparing myself for a miracle opportunity. When opportunity knocks, open the door.

About sunset, I found a place to camp on highway 9; a dirt road overrun with weeds. It was west of the beach and east of route 1. Perfect location, the neighbors were not so perfect. The mosquitoes were really hungry, it must be about to rain. I imagined a lot of ticks lurking in wait in the undergrowth.

It must have been close to midnight when I was finally ready to sleep. I slept luxuriously late into the day, it must have been 9 AM when the phone rang. Conor Makem, a reporter working for Foster's Daily Democrat was ready to do a story on me. I called them over the weekend, days ago! It was Monday morning? Sure, I'll ride into Dover, New Hampshire to do the story. Let's get the basic facts done over the phone. Wink Conor and I did the interview over the phone. Wink But, he still needed pictures. Oh, Rochester, not Dover? OK, address? Got it... before 5 PM? OK, I will pedal my butt off.

Pack quickly, ride, ride, ride! I got there 15 minutes to 5PM but I got there. Whew, there were a lot of hills on the way. He took pictures. I felt he should meet me, in person, see my bike a few feet away, feel the magic so he could put it on paper. Did the story go to print? I don't know and that was a couple weeks ago. I need to call Conor and find out.

On the way to Rochester, a man called me on my cell phone. Foster's reporter gave him my phone number. Doug Sandborn is big with the local veteran's organizations. He said they (all those organizations love to help vets like me. Really? I felt like a dog when a stranger throws a big piece of meat down for them. For me? Really? Well, if you insist... Whew, a lot of good things coming my way in a short time. Reminds me of that woman I met. Oh, I did not tell you which woman? Don't kiss and tell. Wink

I stayed in the Rochester - Dover area chasing down veteran organizations. I went to "My Friend's Place" and spoke with Lisa Routhier, Case Manager and vet rep. She is a vet herself and My Friend's Place helps vets.She suggested I talk with Angelo at the Rochester American Legion. I went there, asked if I could camp the night in back and talk to the guy in the morning. The guy I asked and got permission from late at night was the guy I needed to talk to in the morning - Angelo. He is sneaky. Smile

The American Legion out of Rochester gave me enough money to buy the tent I have wanted since before I left Las Vegas. First, I used the yellow pages phone book to look up camping goods stores in the area of Rochester. Kittery Trading Post, I rode by there. I was going back, how odd.

Now for the tent. It is a Eureka Assault Outfitter 4. I stopped along the way at the Dover Harbormaster. I asked him if he had any advice about how to find a sail boat work on and work passage across the Atlantic Ocean. No. But, a guy on a ten speed bicycle rode up as I was riding off. He said, "I got to see this." Mike saw as much of my bike as he wanted. I asked him the best way to get to Kittery from here in Dover. He said "Follow me, I'm going there."

On the way, 20 - 30 miles of pretty roads, we got to know each other a bit. He toured other countries on bicycles with his wife. She is in... a very poor African country volunteering. He is an artist. He incorporates the letters used in Arabic and tradional Chinese into his drawings. They are often black and white. He took me to visit a friend. He would not tell me anything about his friend, not wanting to disappoint me if his friend was not there.

What kind of friend would fit that description? That was an entertaining question to ask for a while as we rode. Have you ever shook a gift-wrapped box in an attempt to deduce what the gift is without having to wait for the unveiling?

We rode up to a pretty house on the edge of the bay. Zig and his wife, Carol were home. They talked a bit, catching up with not having seen each other for a while. Zig and I were introduced. He asked if I wanted to see some bikes. Sure. Zig has 120 bicycles in his house. It seemed like everything in the house, except his wife, has a bicycle flavor to it and most of them are antiques. Bicycle lights that use both kerocene and batteries, an ink well for fountain pens, (they explained what a fountain pen is, I asked if it was one of these, pulling mine out.), all manner of things, the house is tastefully packed to the max. Carol, is the granddaughter of a man in the 1880's who had a bicycle shop. They have some of the original newspaper clippings wwith his advertisements in it.

Mike and I stopped at the Road House Tavern on highway 236 met the waitress and bartender. Got a free beer and meal cuz we are so cute!

It is huge. I love it. I have two complaints; the tent stakes and tent poles are flimsy. The fabric portion of the tent is sturdy, high quality and very roomy.

More, later, sigh got to go again. I need a day off.




ChasingSanity
ChasingSanity
Admin

Posts : 144
Join date : 2010-04-07

http://biketoaustralia.roflforum.net

Back to top Go down

My Journey - August 2011 Empty Re: My Journey - August 2011

Post  Sponsored content


Sponsored content


Back to top Go down

Back to top

- Similar topics

 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum