Days 65 to 70: New England Coast

Day 65
Kilometer 5645
Belfast, ME

Acadia: beautiful. Mountains. Ocean. Countless gorgeous views of both. Can't go wrong.

Day 66
Kilometer 5760
West Bath, ME

Home stretch now. I'm counting down the days. Four, hopefully.

God, it better only be four. I'm tired.

Day 67
Kilometer 5852
Wells, ME

Portland, Maine, is the first place since Halifax, Nova Scotia worthy of being called a "city." Which means: there's more than one highway here. Which means: I got lost.

Day 68
Kilometer 5950
Rowley, MA

Three important things: One. Last night in the tent. Woot.

Two. I crossed the bridge ("Hey! No bicycles!" "Oops.") from Maine to New Hampshire, and then, having sufficiently Lived Free and/or Died, left New Hampshire for the State of Codfish and/or Baked Beans.

Three. My bike is a piece of crap.

Day 69
Kilometer 6050
Norwell, MA

Update re:bike problems. My unfailing steed has, yet again, failed me. Its newly rediscovered chain/tire/brakes/essentially-everything problems have blossomed anew, giving me the fun task of navigating Boston streets and traffic on a bike, while also pulling over every ten to twenty seconds to take the chain that has mysteriously fallen off the bike and wind it back on (I've gotten pretty good at this!), and every 30 minutes to re-inflate the back tire.

Upside: a shower and a bed. And only one more day.

Day 70
Kilometer 6081
Pembroke, MA

I failed. I flunked. I folded, flopped, foundered, fell flat (pun somewhat intended), and forwent the finale. I phoned my family, forsaking the finish line, and they ferried me home. The bicycle's fussiness had, uh,—okay, I'm giving up the F thing. Everything on the bike got worse—the chain, the tire—and at 11 in the morning, I gave up and got a ride home.

Not exactly the dramatic finale I was hoping for.