Happy Father's Day!

For Father's Day, we enjoyed a relaxed, extra-scenic day mostly riding up the Maine coast.  Hmmm...could that have been planned?

We started with a short visit to Fort Constitution near Portsmouth. This site is on an active Coast Guard facility, so we had to carefully follow the blue line on the pavement out to the old fort (you can just see the line in the background of the first picture).

We enjoyed the scenic views from the island this fort is on.

Note the lighthouse; you'll see it again later.

Nim ran around and explored, as she is wont to do.

It was yet again a warm day, so we gravitated toward shady nooks.

After we finished at that fort, it was time to head across the bridge from New Hampshire to Maine.  Nim doubted my judgment in taking a picture while riding on the bridge, but there was a big bike lane so it was no problem.

Shortly after crossing the bridge, it became clear that the kiddo was hungry, so we decided to stop at Fort McClary near Kittery, just across the river mouth from the other fort.  

I fed her saltwater taffy.

It turned out to be not just a day for free entrance into Maine state parks, but also part of the weekend for French and Indian War reenactments at the park.  Naturally, we decided to hang around for an hour for the next battle.  While we waited, we explored the site and all the encampments the reenactors had set up.

Notice the lighthouse we had just been at across the water in the background.

Shaggy kid on a rock.  There was some talk of why a haircut hadn't happened before the trip.

As we waited, costumed people roamed around the site.  Eventually, shots started in the woods, and the battle was on.  It was sort of entertaining wandering about the site to follow the action.

Post battle, it was time to get back on the road and head north.  When lunchtime rolled around, we found an absurdly photogenic hut that sold lobster rolls.

It had delicious root beer

and provided many places to lounge.

Later in the afternoon, for variety from ice cream, we got iced coffee and pastries.  Nim had way too much fun with the snack detritus. (Note that the middle cup is only balanced on one of the other cups -- not both of them.)

 We found dinner in an old mill building next to the river in Kennebunk, a short walk from the hotel for the night.

The usual view of the teen at dinner when a phone signal was available.

Just one day of riding left, and we can declare victory!

The other long day

The first day out of Rockport was our other planned long-ish day of the trip, at about 60 miles.  I wasn't as worried about this one, however, because the route was pancake flat along the coast in the direction of the prevailing wind.  Should be easy-peasy, and possibly scenic, with cute little ice-cream-containing beach towns, right?

The day started out ok, aside from some minor wrong turns getting out of Rockport. (route not planned thoroughly through here as I figured we knew the neighborhoods well enough.  ha.)  We did get held up briefly by a drawbridge, which is an uncommon experience for us, but by and large, the section through Massachusetts was enjoyable despite the fact that we were sharing roads with cars on a Saturday.

We stopped in Newburyport to look for something Chad wanted from a bike shop (again, I can't remember exactly what) and for a quick lunch.  We thought about ice cream, but figured that could wait for one of those little beach towns in New Hampshire.

As we passed into New Hampshire, I noticed two things.  (1) The tailwind I was expecting never materialized, and (2) the pavement got noticeably worse at the state line.  Oh, and (3), the kid's energy started to flag, which we interpreted as a sign that her low ice cream indicator light was on.  No problem, Google says there is ice cream in Hampton Beach!  Surely that will be a cute little beach town...

Not.

As we crossed the state line, the pavement got worse, as I mentioned.  People got grouchy about who was and wasn't pointing out pavement hazards, as the road surface quickly became more hazard than pavement.  We also entered the outskirts of relatively high density of relatively ugly beach houses all crammed together on top of each other blocking the view of the ocean.  Then the traffic started.

At first, I thought there was just a backup at a stop light where there was a bridge.  If we could just get over the bridge (nasty bridge surface of course), it would get better...

It didn't.  The traffic was almost at a standstill, and it soon became clear that this was the Saturday backup of people all going to the beach.

The beach was still several *miles* down the road.  Traffic stopped.  Kid needs ice cream.  Adults on high dumbheaded-car alert.  You see, while we could ride along the shoulder of the miles-long parking lot of a road to the beach, the poor drivers were stuck stopped in line.  And it was hot.  Naturally, more than a few of them took umbrage of the fact that we cyclists were moving and they weren't, resulting in some particularly bad behaviors.  Honking, hollering, actively moving over to block the shoulder when they saw us coming.  Ugh.  All we were trying to do was to get through -- dude, I'm not going to take a parking place, or a spot on the beach, or even any ice cream at this point, so please don't try to run me over with your fat-ass truck.  I'm not slowing you down -- it's the other cars that are doing that.  And swearing at me doesn't change your situation any.  Even the hungry kid agreed that we should just batten down the hatches and batter our way through and away from the mess.

As we got into town proper, one could not help but notice the extremely large, extremely tacky boardwalk area, the lack of parking and resultant bad driving choices, the crowded boring flat beach, the innumerable sunburnt folks with questionable taste in clothing darting everywhere across the road like it was a slow-motion game of Frogger.  Long lines snaked out of food establishments that didn't even look that appealing.  And the noise!  Oh, the noise.  We continued our focussed peloton-of-three progression up the bike lane, wondering why anyone would think it was fun to go here on a summer Saturday.  I would have ridden miles out of the way to avoid this, had I but known.

After what seemed like forever, we got to the far side of town, traffic eased up, and we stopped to breathe.  The shared focus needed to get through that miserable beach town had erased all of the minor disagreements of earlier in the day and honed us back into a working team.  A somewhat shell-shocked team, but a team nonetheless.

Several miles out of town, we spotted an ice cream shop, where we promptly stopped to cool down and have a snack.  It was 90 degrees out, and the large ice creams were sorely needed -- and enjoyed!

The coast picked up some rocks, which made it slightly more scenic than the earlier flat sand.

We got into the vicinity of Portsmouth in the late afternoon, and stopped at a non-crowded beach state park.  It was way better than the tourist zone further south, and was quite pretty in the late-afternoon low-angle light.  Their visitor center was closed, but we peeked in the windows to see the giant whale skeleton inside, and also looked at the bones outside.  The general impression of a whale skeleton is not so different than that of a dinosaur skeleton, after all!  It was just a few easy miles to our hotel for the night, where we appreciated the quiet and were able to laugh at the unexpected horribleness of tacky beach boardwalk towns.

Layover Days

In the middle of the trip, we had a couple of rest days in Boston, and then Rockport.  Here are a few highlights:

While we were in Boston, we stayed at an Airbnb apartment in a weird little 150-year-old building that is the sole remnant of its original neighborhood amidst much redevelopment over the decades.  I picked it because it was within walking distance of sights and restaurants, was on the first floor so we could get our bikes in easily, and was only half the price of all the expensive Boston hotels.

Chad (1) thought the building was probably making more money from the giant iPhone ads on the side than from the people in it (you can't tell, but it is right next to the TD Garden arena), and (2) it reminded him of the building the main character lived in in the movie "Triplets of Belleville"  (a delightfully oddball cycling movie, if you don't know it). I guess we were right next to the train station too...

Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a rest day, we walked many miles all over town,

following the Freedom Trail to subject the kiddo to historic sites.  The major destination of the day was the USS Constitution at the Charleston Naval Shipyard.

We all like the complicated rigging.

I especially like the contrast between the old ship and the modern skyline.

Chad near the communications room.  He likes all the old technology (as does the kid!)

Naptime needed?

Here you go, kid.

What a cute wee navy boat!

The visitor center was full of interesting historical tidbits, including signs that Nim really liked

lots of cool stuff about rope- and chain-making,

and the obligatory picture cutouts.  

While the kid refused to be in the Rosie the Riveter cutout, apparently the goofy ponytail to keep overly-shaggy hair out of the way in the wind wasn't too embarrassing.

We did, of course also go visit the USS Cassin Young on the other side of the dock too.  The contrast between it and the Constitution in both aesthetic and technology was notable. (And no, I have no idea what the kid was trying to express...)

Lunchtime?

Nah, too many distractions to look at.

 Sculptures are irresistible.

The drydock was impressive.

And the kid dances yet more.

More walkking, more nice waterfront.

We eventually found our way over to the Bunker Hill Monument, where, after we thoroughly explored the little museum, Nim sat on the grass and sketched while Chad and I climbed the endless spiral staircase up the tower.

View of the city from the top.

More walking.  Fish sculptures made us think of dinner,

so we headed over to the Italian part of town for yummy seafood.

The ice cream was somewhat fancier than what we had been devouring on the road.

Outside, the procession for Saint Anthony of Padua went by.  I was previously unaware that June 13 is the saint's day for this patron saint of lost things.

We had a good walk back to the apartment in the waning light.

After two nights in Boston, we took the train to Rockport to visit folks there.  It's quite a scenic town in the summer, of course.

Nim was included in some younger-generation fun, having been invited by Evelyn to hang out and see some teen bands perform one night, and out for a movie on the other one.  Meanwhile, Chad and I got to enjoy two fine dinners with the grownups.  Rest and relaxation for all!

Trains

After 5 days and nearly 200 miles of riding, we were due a break.  As a result, we decided to take the MBTA commuter train from into Boston from the Grafton station a mere 3 1/2 miles from our night's hotel.

The kid was happy for a break

and took a nap.  I am told that Chad's shoulder is superior to mine in all ways.

The conductor had us load our bikes into a different car than the one we had to sit in, which always makes me a little nervous.  There was no problem, however, and upon retrieving the bikes as we got close to our station, I noticed a note that someone had written a note on the back of a train ticket and left in the clear pocket on the top of my handlebar bag.  "Long live bike tourism!  Have a good trip!"  How jolly.

We got off the train a couple of miles from our accommodation for the night, and enjoyed a breezy, but short, ride along the Charles River bike path.  As was our habit, we stopped for afternoon ice cream.

After walking many miles sightseeing in Boston for a day and a half (more about that later), we decided to avoid the city traffic yet again by taking another arm of the commuter train out to Rockport to see folks there.

The kid made faces at me.

Happy bikes barely squeezed in, but the conductor thankfully didn't care that they stuck out into the aisle a little.  Vive le cyclotourisme!