Maine 2015
  
 

Day 03

July 29

  
   
  As is my usual habit, I'm up early to check out our breakfast options. I don't know if there are any close enough to walk to or not. When I come into the lobby, I meet the world famous 'Nikki', who has been kind enough to let her human accompany her on her world journeys. We have a rather interesting conversation about the hardships she faces with her humans. But being the wonder dog that she is, she bravely dogs up and does what she has to do to keep them in line.  
   
  Then she decides it's time to take her human out for a walk, but tries not to embarrass such a poor being that only has two legs for walking. I have to admire such a gracious personage that has sympathy on lower forms of bipeds.  
   
  As it turns out, the desk clerk tells me that one of the breakfast places I researched is actually in walking distance. And it is certainly appropriately named to suit this hillbilly - 'Breakfast House'. Karen, who is from about an hour away, has arrived so we head for the grub.  
   
 

This place is the 'real deal' from a great server to a great cook. I tell them -

"Looks like we hit a home run on this one, folks."

The food is excellent and the service is great - a sure winning combination for me. So I feel the need to do proper justice to what is laid out before me ...

  
   
  And I do. And I don't see too much left over on the other three plates that surround me either.  
   
  But Maine calls, so we settle up and get back to the motel. With our trusty steeds packed, we head for the north land.  
   
  It's a nice little run up through the village to where we are headed first thing this morning.  
   
 

Fortunately we all four find a convenient place to park our bikes close to our destination. While we are sorting our gear, and older gentleman walks by and strikes up a conversation. We talk about where we are from and where we are going. His parting bit of wisdom to us is -

"Life's too short to pronounce the Rs" and with that moves on down the sidewalk.

  
   
  Today I plan on completing a 'journey' I started back in 2004 when I visited Plymouth, England. Since it is sort of 'on the way', we are stopping at Plymouth Rock in Massachusetts.  
   
  The history of the place and the rock is interesting and there is some speculation as to the veracity of it all. But I'll take it as I find it and I have to admire the nice memorial that has been built around what is left of the rock.  
   
  It has been the victim of early souvenir hunters and several moves before it found its final protected resting place here. It is the place where the first Pilgrims, who set off in the Mayflower, set foot and came ashore to the New World.  
   
  Back in 2005, my British riding friends had taken me to Plymouth, England to the very steps that the Pilgrims walked down to board the Mayflower.  
   
  In fact, there is a full size replica of her sitting nearby in the harbor. She is approximately one hundred feet long and there were over to one hundred and thirty passengers and crew crammed into this small ship.  
   
 

There is also a imposing statue of William Bradford, the first governor of the new colony. It is hard for modern folks to quite understand the hardships and challenges that these folks faced in a desire to obtain religious freedom. Of the one hundred and two settlers that came over, over half of them died before the end of the first winter. Sadly, history of our country is seldom taught, replaced by 'current events'. One of our founding fathers profoundly observed that when that happens, the general public will forget about and cease to appreciate the great sacrifices made to create and preserve this country and she will be doomed.

  
   
  But we've still got to get to Maine today, and the road coming in has been turned into a one-way due to construction. Karen has some written down instructions on how to get back to where we need to go, so we follow her lead.  
   
  Somewhere along the way, Dave, my trusty Chinese GPS, figures a way a little closer so I honk at Karen at a turnoff she's about to make and motion to follow me. Soon it's time for a fuel and defuel break, so we find a convenient place to accomplish both.  
   
  We take I495 to avoid the Boston mess, which takes us to I95 which soon has us on the Maine Turnpike, or maybe it should be call the Maine 'toll' pike.  
   
  Not soon enough, we pass our last 'fleecing' station and are on route 1 along the coast of Maine. It is slow going due to the many little towns and traffic, but at least we don't have to pay for the privilege.  
   
  And every now and the we are rewarded with a lovely harbor view ...  
   
  or the sight of a stately old New England estate.  
   
  In the process of dealing with the heavy traffic and the difficult passing process, I get separated from the rest of the crew. I finally pull off in a safe and visible place, gas up, and take a break to wait and see. After about thirty minutes, I figure something is up. I ring up Charlie on his cell phone and he lets me know that they have taken a 'shortcut' around Rockland, the town where I am currently sitting. With that bit of information, I saddle up and proceed, figuring I'll catch them somewhere along the way.  
   
  Rockland is quite a pretty little town with nice historical store fronts that have been well preserved.  
   
  And the harbor is quite picturesque.  
   
  As I ride along I get views of the old to the ...  
   
  ultra modern in terms of architectural achievement.  
   
  But I really enjoy the views of the ocean and this is why I routed us this way in the first place.  
   
  Some of the estates are quite beautiful and amazingly well kept considering the harsh weather they get up here in the the winter.  
   
  As we get closer to our destination for the evening, I get to see more of those lovely ocean inlets that dot the roadside.  
   
  When I see this sign, I know I'm close and start looking for the turn off to the cottages.  
   
  The old GPS has a better idea, and routes me down a gravel road shortcut that ends up being a 'long cut' and the road ends at a feller's house. But I get turned around and find the correct road and we soon arrive at Ocean Spray Cottages, owned by Joel and Cathy Strout, friends of Miss Della who grew up around here and is hosting the LobsterSToc event with Randy.  
   
 

The cabins are quite nice and set right on the inlet. We get our sleeping arrangements sorted out for the evening then unburden the beasts. Fali encourages us to head for where Della and Randy are staying - her parent's cabin - for supper. He says -

"I know Della will be cooking so let's go there."

So we mount up our beasts and we're off to find this place.

  
   
  Fortunately, Randy and Della have posted signs so we know exactly which way to turn. And Fali turns out to be an astute prognosticator for Miss Della has put on the cook's hat and whipped up some delicious grub. Several other folks have showed up so I figure the smell of good food must have drawn them like vultures to a dead body.  
   
  It's good to catch up with some more of riding friends that I haven't seen in a while. It's a pleasant evening, but I figure I'd best get back to the cabin before it gets too dark. The gravel roads between here and there could be a bit 'challenging' to negotiate in the full dark. So with full bellys, we head back to the cabin. It doesn't take long until I am very glad that I have brought along my earplugs.