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Jay along the coast
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When we last wrote, we had been taking shelter from tropical
storm Henri in Scarborough, ME (south of Portland). We are now another 260
miles further along in our journey near Fall River, MA (east of Providence, RI). For Jay, this bike
trip has finally begun showing signs of a REAL east coast ride. There was a brief touch of coastal life in
Belfast, ME where the boatyard held an ocean-going tugboat in drydock. No doubt there were other ships moored in the
harbor with names like “The Scurvy Dog” or “Master of the Sea.” However, most
of Jay’s rides have been bereft of the smell of salt air. That changed as his
route wound about the southern edge of Maine’s coastline.
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A large house on the coast |
Along that coast, there are towns open to the American
heartland providing beach access, amusement rides, pizza and sugar-coated fried
dough. There are also exclusive enclaves of mansions with polite but firmly
worded signage, “Keep off my beach!” There is something for everyone.
We have been blessed with blue skies and mostly moderate
temperatures, but we have not been without our mishaps.
Our current big adventure was a ride down the spine of Cape
Cod. Jay attempted, unsuccessfully in several conversations, to determine the
appropriate way to communicate a trip to Cape Cod. Some declared that one “Goes down to the
Cape.” Others offered “Out to the Cape.”
There was no consensus, yet we soon discovered that our Cape Cod
adventure had a more serious problem than mere linguistic inconsistencies.
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Progress Report
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All of Jay’s bike software and mapping resources indicated
riders can catch a ferry from Boston to Provincetown at the northern tip of the
Cape. Jay booked two tickets accordingly. It was not until we arrived at the
ferry dock in Boston that we learned that the ferry was for passengers only
(and their bikes) and not for cars. Our Prius, driven by Helen with all our
gear, was not crossing on this ferry. Not willing to forego a Cape Cod
adventure, we drove the 115 miles to our campground, Dunes Edge, just outside
Provincetown.
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Universalist Church in P-town |
Provincetown, or P-Town as the locals refer to it, is a
compact city at the northern tip of Cape Cod of narrow streets filled with
bars, restaurants and art galleries. P-Town lives into its welcoming promise to
the LGBTQ+ community with ubiquitous displays of Pride flags, and the
flamboyant and ordinary harmoniously mingling without raising an eyebrow.
P-Town was the site of another mishap with the loss of Jay’s prescription
sunglasses. Per the karma of our trip, Helen returned the next day and
retrieved his glasses from a pizzeria where we had paused for “a slice.”
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This lighthouse is in Portland |
We purchased an audio tour of Cape Cod and drove from site
to site visiting different historical artifacts. The most
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Old lighthouse on Cape Cod |
interesting were all
the light houses, but we also learned a lot about the Pilgrims who landed on
Cape Cod in November, 1620. As you probably already know, they didn’t eat
turkey and pumpkin pies at the first Thanksgiving. The menu was probably
mussels, shrimp, lobster and fish.
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Narrow bike path on bridge |
With 584 miles into our trek, we are getting our traveling
sea legs. A great deal of planning is required that is constrained by the
weather, riding terrain and a flood of vacationers in our intended path. Helen
is the queen behind the curtain. Finding vacancies at hotels and campgrounds is
no easy task during the summer vacation time. Even securing a dinner
reservation is a challenge. Thankfully, a Whole Foods hot bar is a good
fallback position.
As we head into
Connecticut’s urban environment, we anticipate more hotel stays and hope for
less vacation pressures on availability.
We spent two nights at the Sandwich (MA) Lodge & Resort
“on historic Route 6A” on Cape Cod. On Sunday Jay rode 68 miles on his bike,
Helen retrieved him and drove back to the hotel. In the morning we will both drive
to the pickup point, the Fall River Historic Park, and tour the battleships
moored there.