Not All Rides Are Fun and Games

May 15, 2016

"I have no idea where we are."

We had finally come to an intersection, but I couldn’t find it on my map. I guessed that we had bicycled off the page I had brought along, and now we were on another page, one left at home. 

Rob and I were exploring a new route from Madbury, New Hampshire, to York Beach in Maine. It had been a lovely ride so far. Riding along quiet country roads, we’d had a light tail wind; I had wanted to average 12 miles per hour, and we were riding comfortably at 13. We passed lush green fields, with horses grazing here and there. The yellow daffodils and forsythia of two weeks ago had given way to gentle purples of lilacs and phlox. The trees sparkled with yellow-green spring leaves. All was fine except that somehow we had turned up on the wrong road.

I flagged down a pickup truck as it pulled up to the stop sign.

“We’re trying to get to York,” I told the woman in the passenger’s seat. “We seem to be lost.”

“We’re going that way, over the mountain. You turn left here and then take a right.”

For some reason that didn’t make sense. After they pulled away, I checked with the woman in my smart phone. She confirmed the left turn. We’d ridden extra miles but we weren’t too far off course.

Then we hit dirt and gravel for a stretch of road work. Bouncing along, I felt unsteady and unclipped from one of my pedals, just in case. But we turned off onto a paved road – Mountain Road - soon enough, taking us over Mt. Agamenticus. Then we were on dirt again and I started skidding going up a hill when my tires wouldn’t grab. I glanced at my map, and couldn’t see where it was marked as unpaved; I guess I can’t trust the map. Fortunately the sparse traffic didn’t kick up much dust.

The Cape Neddick River runs into the ocean just north of York Beach.

Back on pavement, easy riding brought us to the coastal road. At 30 miles we arrived in York Beach, a strip of summer rentals, ice cream stands and T-shirt shops. Tucked down a side street that dead-ended onto the beach was our destination, Rossi's Italian Bakery, a treasure my friends and I had found on a bike ride a couple years ago.

But it wasn't there. Just a sign that said “Bakery For Lease or Sale.” 

A young man saw us standing, dejected, in front of the empty storefront. "They moved. The rent went up. They're over on Route 1 now."

Gone.

Route 1 is the main thoroughfare running north and south just slightly inland from the coast, crowded with traffic lights, strip malls, restaurants, and tourist junk shops. We weren't going to bike over there, not even for a delicious Italian pastry.

Even with the setbacks, we enjoyed the morning. But our day turned around from the point when our destination disappeared.

We rode out to Nubble Lighthouse, one of those tourist places where everyone stops – artists, bicyclists, tour buses, families with kids excitedly climbing all over the rocky shoreline. A cold wind was blowing today; I put on my neck warmer, thankful I’d brought it. Rob and I sat on one of the stone benches overlooking the surf and ate our hummus and tomato sandwiches, with no delicious Italian pastry for dessert. I pulled out a tiny fun-size bag of M&Ms that I had discovered in the pantry that morning.

"There aren't enough to share," I said. The entire bagful didn't even fill my hand, nothing fun about that.

"Come on, give me some," said Rob.

There were four blue ones. Blue is Rob's favorite color. "Here, I'll give you the blue ones."

The benches had inscriptions on them, many in memory of someone.

I said, “When I die, throw my ashes somewhere in the Rocky Mountains and dedicate a bench to me.”

 

Rob perked up after I shared 
my M&Ms with him.
That's Nubble Lighthouse in the distance.

I was hanging out with the bikes while Rob went to the restroom. A man heading into the gift shop said, "You're courageous to be out riding in this wind."

"Oh, it won't be bad," I said. "It's always windy here because we're out on a point."

But I was wrong. That light tailwind we had in the morning became a strong headwind that plagued us the entire way home. Pushing against it, I was climbing hills I’d never noticed before on this ride. And that damn wind kept throwing crap into my eyes.

When we passed through Kittery, I thought about calling for a stop at Lil's, my favorite café. I was getting hungry and sure would enjoy something delicious. But I decided to tough it out, build some character, and I’ve got excess weight to get rid of. Besides, we had planned to get home in time to catch up on some chores and we were already heading into overtime.

After passing Kittery we had a terrific view 
of theSarah Long Bridge that connects 
Maine andNew Hampshire.

We had saved the most scenic part of the ride for the return trip, but it was lost on me. I thought about my celebration ride two weeks ago, grateful the weather was perfect that day.

We were almost back in Dover, less than an hour from home. I called to Rob to pull off as we passed by a golf course.

I said, “I need to eat.”

We sat on a stone wall and pulled out the rest of our food, apples and peanuts. Rob tucked his apple core inside the stone wall. “That’ll make a squirrel happy,” he said.

Once we got through Dover, we took the direct way home, down the state highway with traffic whizzing by, thankful for the wide shoulder. Once on the quiet country road that took us to our neighborhood, I no longer cared about how fast we were going, or about the chores that weren’t going to get done. I was just happy to get home, shower, and take a nap.

I had wanted to average at least 12 miles an hour. We barely made 11. But we had ridden 66 miles in tough conditions. I’ll call it a successful training ride. In a week Rob and I are celebrating our anniversary by bicycling to Rockport, Massachusetts, and back. It's about 70 miles one way, maybe 80. We want to make sure we’re in good enough shape to enjoy it.

At dinner Rob went on and on about what a great day he had, what a beautiful ride that was. I’m usually the optimistic one, so I am completely befuddled. Where did he ride today and who was that riding with me?