Janice says "I got this."
11 June 2023
Mid-seventies, a mild breeze, clear skies with only a touch of Halifax wildfire haze: the ride was a go.
I'd done this loop so many times I didn't even bother to map it. In April, blocked culverts on Park Loop Road flooded all the way to Sieur de Monts. That section of road had been closed for repairs. I was unclear if the road was open again. If it wasn't, there'd be a detour that I've ridden before. I decided to take a different route out of the park. It would be shorter, but it would end with a glorious downhill all the way back to town to West Street.
I started off as I usually do, pedaling from the hotel, south on Main Street all the way out of town, to the Sieur de Monts entrance. It's a looping descent with the worst hill of the day on the other end. Janice took it in stride.
Somewhere between the Egg Rock overlook and the ticket gate I was overtaken by a tandem as we went uphill. Now, I know I'm not the world's best climber, but hell, a tandem is heavy. Their cadence was far too smooth. It was effortless. When we arrived at the gate, I got a good look at their machine. The frame seemed like any old tandem frame, but it had a ginormous battery pack where a pannier would normally sit, and the front wheel's hub was the size of a dinner plate.
They pulled over to see the water while I continued on, and when they eventually passed me again I could hear the electric whirr in the front wheel this time.
I stopped at the Fabbri Memorial that overlooks Otter Cove.
To the north I could see Cadillac Mountain (the one on the left).
This is Otter Cove.
I stopped again around the bend, where there's a causeway over the creek. On the south side is a sandy beach.
To the west is a culvert that, I've read, is in need of repair.
To the north is the creek and the mountain. The creek is tidal here.
I leaned Janice against one of the granite blocks that line the park's roads. While I was taking pictures, I heard her slide down the rock a little. I propped her up again, noticing a few marks where her paint was now scratched. "Well," I thought. "I can tell everyone she cut herself on Rockefeller's teeth,"
Somewhere near Wildwood Stables, I saw the tandem couple carrying the bike up a steep path by the side of the road to a carriage road bridge. In all the times I'd been here, I'd never noticed that. Talk about knowing your park inside and out!
I always take a back break at the Eagle Lake overlook.
Then I head up the mountain.
In the winter, I train indoors using Rouvy. We used to be able to upload our own videos. I made a few of Park Loop Road and Cadillac Mountain before they decided that they didn't want us amateurs stinking up the site. This past winter I climbed Cadillac a handful of times. My versions of it put in a few 25% grades that do not exist in reality. The real road averages 6% over about 3 miles, with a few spots that are more than that.
This was my ninth time up in reality. I knew what was coming.
To make things more interesting, the park service had been replacing culverts in the spring. The road had been closed and only opened up again a few weeks ago. I was maybe a third of the way up when I noticed that each repair's blacktop was marked with a number in hot pink. I was at number 13 at the time. I started paying attention to how many there were.
Road crews were still out there. On the steepest part of the climb, I encountered one. The fellow with the stop/slow sign had it on stop as I approached. "Please don't make me stop," I begged."
"You can go," he said. "Just be careful. There's cars coming the other way."
That's some true Hill Slug shit right there. I pedaled on.
I lost track of the culvert count in the last mile. That's where I focus intensely on the middle of the road to keep myself from getting dizzy.
By the time I reached the top, I was dripping with sweat.
There's a little shop and a set of real bathrooms tucked away behind some scrub near the summit parking lot. I locked Janice to the railing with a little zip-tie thingie (thanks, Pete G!) and went inside.
I hadn't planned on needing water, but, whatever. So I had to buy that. The real reason, though, was to find two keychains for Janice. The first would be one for the park in general, and the second for the summit. Miss Piggy and Fozzie have theirs. Janice now joined them.
After I guzzled the water, I rode over to the summit parking lot for some pictures. There was a cruise ship hiding behind Bar Island. Even from here, the thing looked huge.
Look at all the porcupines! On the left is the tip of Bar Island. In the center is Sheep Porcupine. Center right is Burnt Porcupine, and bottom right is Bald Porcupine, with the breakwater exposed as the tide isn't full.
I zoomed in on Burnt and Bald. Bald doesn't look as much like a porcupine from up here.
That's Sheep Porcupine, looking like a critter.
That's Burnt.
And this is Bar Island. The sand bar is out of frame on the left. The supid cruise ship is the Norwegian Pearl.
There's the sand bar. The tide's barely low enough to get all the way across.
Positioning the summit keychain took some work. Hanging it from the pack's zipper had it hitting the wheel.
That they're both moose was a bonus.
On the way down, I turned into what used to be called the Blue Hill Overlook. Now it's called summit parking or something.
Now it was time for the descent. I braced myself for the heebie-jeebies.
For the first time in 9 rides, I didn't panic when I reached the fateful hairpin. As much as I wanted to hate all the bluetooth, disc brake, carbon wheel flashiness of this electronic mayhem, I couldn't. Janice was telling me, "We got this. Fer sure." She was forcing me to like her.
(Looks like someone forgot to set the date and time on her Fly12!)
At the bottom of the mountain, I headed towards Hulls Cove and took the second turn onto the West Street extension. As I dropped down into town, I could feel the temperature dropping down too.
I went to the pier and watched lobster being loaded from a boat to a waiting truck.
Beyond the pier, past the sand bar, to the north, was the CAT ferry that travels once each day between Bar Harbor and Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. I might be on that ferry next year.
My mountain ride is traditionally followed by a late lunch at Bar Harbor Beer Works. The reason is that they serve a giant soft pretzel.
We wandered around town a little. I still didn't see Elaine's mug.
Back in the hotel room, I sat out on the balcony and watched the water.
The air was clear enough to zoom into the Egg Rock lighthouse.
The breakwater was exposed. It's amazing to me that this little spit of rocks protects the harbor from big waves.
Will that tree fall over while I'm here?
Geez. They're all dead! Why? Salt water intrusion?
The gulls and cormorants love these floating docks.
Margaret Todd unfurled her sails.
I really wanted to go ride Park Loop Road again. Maybe even the mountain. The forecast didn't look too promising though. There was rain coming in. The rest of the week was looking pretty bad for biking. One can never tell, though, especially on this island.
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