That's How We Roll: Day Five: Rain Insurance Works!

Sometimes when I am writing my blog, I have more to write than I am willing to record, because I don't want to go on and on. There was a funny story that happened in Bar Harbor that I will include in this blog at the end. How is that for a teaser?

Last night I went to bed tired, not looking forward to this morning which was forecast to be wet and rainy. Sure enough, during the night, I could hear the rain pounding on the roof, and pouring off the eaves. It was forecast to rain until one PM. I would have liked to just have stayed in my room all day, but accommodations are not cheap in Freeport, so I was going to have to ride. I was not in a hurry getting ready. I put everything in zip lock baggies and then I used a trash bag to line my panniers to keep everything dry. I put a motel shower cap over my helmet, a trick I leaned from Jim McGurk, to keep my head dry, and I had a rain jacket and riding gloves for the rain. However, I just had leg warmers and riding shorts, so I was worried that my legs might become wet and chilled. So I decided that I would ride back into Freeport, go to LL Bean and buy some rain pants. In fact I became convinced, that if I bought rain pants for the rain, then the rain would stop. I would actually be buying rain insurance. So I started pedaling towards Freeport in a light rain. On the way I stopped at a very, very crowded diner for breakfast. I always consider restaurants with a lot of cars in the parking lot to be a good bet. All the tables but one had people eating, when I walked in. So I saw a guy sitting by himself getting ready to order and asked, "Do you mind if I share your table?" I must have looked harmless enough in my Corn Pops riding jersey, because he said, "Sure." He was wearing a fly fishing T-shirt, so during breakfast I entertained him with fly fishing stories and cycling stories. I think I was interesting. After breakfast, I was putting on my rain gear and getting my bike ready to roll, and a couple walked across the parking lot to talk to me. This was very different from the general east shore cycling indifference I had been experiencing for the past few days. They said, "Hi. Where you coming from? Where are you cycling to? We really like cycling? Wow, you have disc brakes, how do you like them? Tell me about your bike." And then they asked, "What's it like cycling out here?" And I replied, "Interesting and a bit different. Where are you from?" "Oh, we're from Sacramento, California." It figures, it just seems the west is a bit more inclined to open up, to show curiosity than our eastern brethren.

So, I started rolling in the light drizzle, heading to LL Bean, convinced I was going to be buying rain insurance. I rolled up to one of the many LL Bean front doors, and locked my bike to a light pole and asked the LL Bean employee that was outside pitching skeet shooting and fly fishing tours that if they saw anyone that did not look like me messing with my bike, would they ask that person why they were doing that? He replied, "You don't need to lock your bike, this is Maine." Well yeah. LL Bean might be located in Maine, but I am sure 95% of the people going through the front doors of that LL Bean outlet were not from Maine. Anyway, I went inside and bought my rain insurance that looked an awful lot like a pair of rain pants to anyone else. And sure enough, when I went outside, the rain had stopped. And by the time I was ten miles down the road, the sun was shining and I was shedding rain gear before I turned into a puddle oaf sweat. Now I am at Sebago Lake Lodge, and I plan on staying here two nights and taking a rest day.

And now for the funny Bar Harbor story. I think it will be worth the wait. On my last full day in Bar Harbor, after I assembled the bike, I was walking around, buying a few last minute things, shipping a box of stuff I was not going to need or carry to my brother in Philadelphia, and taking some pictures of Bar Harbor. One of the pictures I took was of the harbor from the top of a small hill with a park between me and the harbor. In the bottom left of this picture are two very large, very old cannons. Well right before I took my picture, I was waiting for the crowd to clear a bit and in particular, I was waiting for two men taking pictures to get out of my picture. Then I noticed they were taking pictures of their wives, one each straddling one of the cannons. And I thought the picture would be so much better if the men were also straddling the cannons and I would kind enough to take their cameras and take pictures for them. So I quickly went down there and made that suggestion. And of course, the ladies are saying, "Yes, yes!", probably because they are already straddling cannons and everyone is looking at them. And the men are being naturally reticent. I also, after I heard their accents, found out they were from Australia. As I was telling this to Dennie, I told her, "and they were kind of old. Well, not really old, probably about my age." To which Dennie says, "Then they were old." That's what I get for marrying a child bride thirty three years ago. Anyway, back to the real story. One of the men, probably the one with more common sense, stands beside his wife, next to the cannon. But the other man, perhaps the more adventuresome one, proceeds to mount the cannon. And he is behind his wife, on the wider part of the cannon, that has probably been polished smooth by the rear ends of thousands of kids, and he starts to rotate off the cannon, like the second hand on a clock. And he is straddled on the cannon with nothing to grab onto ... except his wife. So he grabs on to her ... and now they are both rotating off the side of the cannon and they hit the ground. And I am running to try to catch them, unsuccessfully. And Mister Common Sense is looking at me with a look that at best could be called disdainful. And the wife on the ground, in a pitiful voice, while rubbing her wrist, is saying, "Why did you grab me? Why did you pull me off?" And he is saying, "I didn't want to be alone." And I am saying, "I am so sorry, I am so sorry", and wishing I was invisible. I know all four of them probably said later, "I wish the bloody Yank would have just kept his nose out of our business." So much for international relations.

So tomorrow is a rest day and wash day and then Tuesday I will continue heading to my brother's place in Philadelphia. Maybe tomorrow, based on my current progress, I will be able to come up with a Philadelphia ETA.