Good Intentions

Never, Ever,

Rides on a paved road.

The plan was simple: Leave Portland early and ride up to Greenville, Maine – 157 miles north: three hours, forty-five minutes away.  Okay, I can't do 60 miles per hour, so let's call it about four hours plus a little bit more.

My BRW (Beautiful Redheaded Wife) called me "a dreamer".  Actually, she told me that I really, really, should think a bit more about going up-country in April.  For those not living in Maine, April is just about mid-winter: a least another month is needed before we even begin to mention Spring.

But.  I convinced Tom Keene, of Scooter By The Sea fame:

http://scooterbythesea.blogspot.com/

 that it would be fun, and he agreed, so I figured "how wrong could I be?"

Very

This was the plan:

Start at the bottom and go to the top.  On the way home, start at the top and go to the bottom, with one difference: a choice of either of two routes – leader's choice.

Neat eh?

Well, at least we made it to Farmington: 78.6 cold, wet, miles.

By that time, we had been showered upon, winded upon, buffered by the many, many logging trucks headed in the opposite direction, and (did I mention that it is April?) cold-ed upon enough that we were ready to stop and smell the flowers.

Farmington: Home of the Twice Sold Tales Bookstore and the Wicked Gelato, a soup, sandwich and gelato store.  How could we resist?  So we parked, made ourselves presentable and trundled in.

The bookstore managed to take half our coins; the gelato shop, the rest.

Thus fortified, we decided upon our next steps.  A quick call to Greenville, provided us with the knowledge that they had received snow the night before (it's April after all), and that the wind was blowing and it was a bit "chilly".  It was the "chilly" that clinched it.  It was time to bow to reality and scoot home, via the red-line route.

Relieved of the pressure to make it to Greenville, we were able to stop and grab a few shots of the fantastic views.

And, as we were punch-drunk from riding in cold, wet, weather, we even took pictures of each other taking pictures.

And so, our road to Greenville turned out to be a "Good Intentions" road – paved, true, and hellish, also true.

One-hundred, seventy-four (and a bit more) miles later, I slid into my local DD, grabbed a coffee (black and large, thank you) and, sitting back, watched the traffic go by.

Next time, with luck, the road to Greenville will be better paved.