David Johnson's Travel Blog
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08/07  Oh No! Casey's is Leaking!
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08/19  Houses houses houses
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09/13  Mainely Traffic
09/14  The Hills!
09/16  Arcadia National Park
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09/21  North into Real Maine
09/22  Mainely Trees
09/23  Annoying Noises
09/24  Baxter State Park
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09/27  Mainely Sick
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09/30  All Done
10/01  (pictures)
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Liverworks Productions
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Mainely Traffic

2011-09-13

tl;dr: I biked through Portland and visited the Desert of Maine. I am growing tired of the traffic.

I was told the canneries in Portland would smell bad. Well, they smelled like fish, but it was sort of a fresh fish smell.

A large tour ship was docked in Portland and tourists on foot were everywhere. A number of souvenir stands had popped up to accommodate them.

I paid $10.50 to visit the Desert of Maine. I am usually suspicious of any attraction with a big wooden fence around it, but I wanted to see what it was all about. Apparently bad farming practices led to sand dunes. There was also a butterfly park where I was able to successfully count three butterflies. I arrived a couple minutes too late to take the 30 minute tour, so I walked around the area in 20 minutes and then left without taking the next tour which was included in my admission.

Bicycling in Maine is starting to suck. The traffic is unbelievable. Perhaps I am a victim of my own expectations. Nothing makes me grumpier than having cars zooming by for four hours. So I am giving up on the coast for now. There were a few things I wanted to see, but I am too outgunned by the other tourists' vehicles to challenge them for rights to the road.

I turned inland. I got off Highway 1 thinking a secondary Highway 127 would be better. It was worse. So I then proceeded onto the very back-roadest of back roads. The traffic is still heavier than it has any right to be, but at least it's tolerable. Of course these roads don't go in any sort of straight lines, so they make my route half again as long. Also, the back roads here do not discriminate against hills.

Once on the back roads I found miles of forest. Finally, now that I'm in the backwoods of Maine I shouldn't have any trouble finding a camping spot, right? Wrong. Just as the sun was ducking toward the horizon houses started springing up like mushrooms. Every single time!

I eventually just dived into an inconvenient plot of woods between some houses.

So I am not very impressed with Maine, yet. Hopefully that will change when I'm further east.



Portland art




sand museum


oh boy chipmunks


the Desert of Maine


one of three




hill hill hill hill hill hill

contact me at le@liverworks.com
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