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Slideshow
A slideshow of photos from Seattle, Chicago, and my Maine ride from Brunswick to home can be found at https://photos.app.goo.gl/U1C3mTEAN3CB3XCa8 .
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Missive No. 12: Last Time on the Road
I promised one more missive. This is my homeward-bound missive, the epilogue for my TransAm summer.
Thanks to Xi and her rental car, I had my longest car ride of the year, 100 miles from Astoria to the Amtrak station in Portland, OR. After goodbye hugs, I boarded a Cascades train for the three hour trip to Seattle. There I checked in for two nights at the fanciest hotel I have seen all summer, a Hilton Fairview Inn that is immediately adjacent to the King Street train station.
Why the stop in Seattle? My high school friend Michael Korolenko moved west years ago and teaches film studies at Bellevue College. I took a bus out to his home in Issaquah, where we shared lunch and I got to view the pilot of his latest film project, Alternatives, on a full-size screen. If you like alternative history fiction, this is for you. Alternatives is making the rounds of the studios and streaming platforms and could be a full-fledged series in a year or so.
The Empire Builder train does not depart Seattle until late afternoon. On Saturday -- yes, the 20th anniversary of 9/11 -- Kelly came to my hotel mid-morning and led me on a 17-mile bike tour of Seattle. Kelly and I were roommates at the bike hostel in Saratoga, WY, in August. Kelly was in the final days of a bike-packing tour from Seattle to visit friends in Colorado, whereas I still had a thousand plus miles to go.
Kelly made my day on that Saturday in Seattle, taking me far from my hotel for the best waterfront views of the city and of the 1962 Space Needle that Kelly told me is more popularly called the Soup Noodle by the younger crowd. We even watched salmon negotiate their way up a fish ladder. For the first time in my life, I saw seals swimming in open water.
Finally aboard the Empire Builder, I watched the sunset over Puget Sound. For two nights and a day, the Empire Builder paralleled much of my Northern Tier route from last year. Often it was within eyesight of the very roads I rode on. I felt I was watching last year's journey rewind before my eyes.
In Chicago I had enough time between trains to ride ten miles along the Lake Michigan shore. The next morning I watched the sunrise over the Alleghenies and the mist rising over the tree-covered banks of the Youghiogheny River and then the Potomac. After three months of riding to the West, I was back in the East.
John spent the day with me in DC as we took a long walk and shared dinner. At 10pm it was time to board the overnight train to Boston. In the morning I rode the short distance to North Station. A few hours later the Downeaster train crossed into my home state of Maine. I spent the night in Brunswick and in the morning had a three-hour catch-up breakfast with my bike-packing friend Lily. Those of you who have followed these missives from the beginning will recall that Lily surprised me with dinner at the hostel in the ghost town of Jeffrey City, WY, in what already is starting to feel like a different reality.
150+ miles separate my home in little Burlington from the Amtrak station in Brunswick. Thus began the after-ride, my chance to say farewell to this spectacular TransAm summer.
The bicycle gods smiled and gave me warm weather under beautiful blue skies. Day 1 took me a short 32 miles along the Kennebec River to a WS night in Gardiner. Kevin, my host, is car-free and has completed more than half of a round-the-world journey in addition to having ridden the periphery of the lower 48 U.S. states. We talked late into the evening about our lives and experiences on two wheels.
Day 2 took me to Northport and a night with my friend Ellen and her granddaughter Calliope. I spent a night with Ellen as I began my journey in May. When I reached Belfast, I felt the gravitational tug of home, the sense of being on familiar ground.
Day 3 took me up the Penobscot to a night at the Bangor home of my friends Greg and Mark. Their welcoming home is always the first and last stop on my bicycle journeys.
On Sunday I woke to Day 4, the final day of my after-ride, the end of my TransAm summer. I continued north along the Penobscot. When I reached Passadumkeag, I turned into the boat launch. Two young women were sunning themselves at water's edge. They did me the favor of taking the traditional front-wheel-in-the-water, end-of-journey photo.
From there I turned inland, away from the river for the final 15 miles to home. As I approached Burlington, the words of the song Last Time on the Road kept repeating in my head: "I'm feeling happy and I'm feeling sad; It's my last time on the road."
There is a last good hill as one approaches Burlington. I climbed it easily, smiling inwardly at how hard that hill seemed to me in the spring. I turned onto Main Street, passed the post office and general store, and at 5:45 turned into my own driveway. I rounded the fir tree at the end of my driveway and came to a stop at my own front door. I dismounted, lifted Woodswoman on to the porch, and sat quietly for an hour to watch the sun set behind the Norwegian pines that fill the front part of my 35 acres. Four months and a week after I had rolled out of my driveway, I was home. Now, as then, my eyes were misty with emotion.
I know from experience that much like Appalachian Trail through-hikers, bike-packers experience a reentry adjustment to normality at the end of their journeys. Daily life can seem overwhelming in comparison to a life that, although physically challenging, is simplicity itself in its routine and in its quiet time for reflection without distraction. Knowing this, I will be taking the coming days slowly.
Of my summer companions, Devin and Sarah reached Astoria in the third week of August. Cathy and Richard reached the Pacific last Thursday and celebrated in a video set to the music from Chariots of Fire. We all know that we completed a journey that gave us memories for a lifetime.
For anyone wondering, I rode a total of 4800 miles since leaving home in May. I lost ten pounds while eating all the ice cream and drinking all the Mountain Dew I wanted. That all-and-everything-you-want diet is one perk for pedaling a fully loaded bicycle across the US. Alas, I know most of that weight comes back during long winters despite a more frugal diet. I guess that means I should do another journey next summer?
I'll ruminate on that during the Maine winter. All I can say is, stay tuned.
I hope you have enjoyed following me on this journey. I know I have enjoyed knowing you are there, reading my missives as I pedalled these 4800 miles. Thank you for being there.
With love at the end of this TransAm journey,
Robyn
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Daily Log
Saturday, September 11, 2021 -- 22,413 km cum - 30 km/day
It may be the 20th anniversary of 9/11, but I just had a most wonderful last day on the West Coast. Kelly, with whom I shared a room at the hostel in Saratoga, WY, is a native of Seattle. She met me outside my hotel at 10 a.m. and took me on an 18-mile tour of the city. Thanks to her -- much as to Jessica in Boston in May -- I got to experience far more of the city than just the few square blocks around my hotel. I even got to see seals along the waterfront and salmon at a fish ladder. The day was bright and sunny, unusual for Seattle. I can't think of a better way to have spent the day.
I am at the King Street Amtrak station as I write. In a few minutes I will board the Empire Builder to start the journey east.
Monday-Wednesday, September 13-15, 2021 -- 22,438 km cum - 25 km over 3 days
Between trains in Chicago, I had enough time to do a lovely 10-mile ride along the shore of Lake Michigan. I spent Tuesday afternoon walking DC with John, who stayed with me until I boarded the overnight train to Boston just before 10 p.m. On Wednesday I rode the short distance from South to North Station and then the equally short distance from the station to the Relax Inn in Brunswick, the same cheap motel I stayed at during my BAM ride in June 2020.
Thursday, September 16, 2021 -- 22,492 km cum - 54 km/day
[no log entry]
Friday, September 17, 2021 -- 22,573 km cum - 81 km/day
Maine's fickle weather has been showing its sweetest side these two days. There is barely a cloud in the sky, and the temperature is warm but not hot. The first hints of fall colors are beginning to show. It doesn't get better than this.
After a three hour catch-up breakfast with Lily at the Brunswick Diner, I had an easy, pretty 34-mile ride along the Kennebec River to Gardiner. Along the way I met and chatted with Wendy and [name?], two bike-packers from Buffalo, NY.
In Gardiner I had my last WS night of the summer with Kevin, a car-free cyclist who has ridden about 2/3 of the way around the world, not to mention the periphery of the US. My two transcontinental trips pale by comparison. We had dinner at the A1 Diner and stayed up late talking. Only at bedtime did I realize he had given me his own bedroom for the night. In the morning he cooked pancakes for breakfast.
Today's 50-mile ride from Gardiner to Belfast was equally lovely. I stopped along the way at St. George State Park for lunch. As I write, I sit on a bench in front of the Visitor's Center by the waterfront as I wait for Ellen. It has been four months and four days since we had dinner together here on May 13 at the start of my summer odyssey. I feel myself entering into the gravitational radius of home.
Saturday, September 18, 2021 -- 22,653 km cum - 80 km/day
I am back in Bangor at Greg and Mark's after a lovely night with Ellen and her granddaughter Calliope. One more day and I will be home.
The morning dawned with light drizzle. I rode in a thick mist all the way to Searsport, but the sun came out by the time I crossed the Penobscot River and stopped to snack in Bucksport. I arrived in Bangor around 3:30 p.m. and went to Shaw's to get a few groceries to carry home with me tomorrow. I reached Greg and Mark's just minutes before it began to pour rain as the weather changed again. The bicycling gods of weather have been smiling on me ever since I reached Brunswick.
Sunday, September 19, 2021 -- 22,730 km cum - 77 km/day
I rolled into my own driveway at 5:45 p.m., four months and one week after rolling out on May 12. I was on the verge of tears then. My eyes were moist again today. I know now from my travels in 2019 and 2020 that re-entry at the end of long bicycle journeys is not simple. The first days, even weeks, are disorienting, close to overwhelming as I cope with a sense of loss at the simple, albeit challenging, bike-packing life on the road.
I lingered in Bangor this morning, even attending the 10 a.m. service at the Hammond Street Congregational Church where Greg and Mark were married in 2013. After a late breakfast at Bagel Central, I began pedalling north along the Penobscot on another gorgeous, sunny, near-fall day. I stopped at Rose Bikes in Orono and left a handwritten note for Fiona and all. When I reached the Passadumkeag boat launch, I asked two young women to snap a photo of me with Woodswoman's front wheel in the waters of the Penobscot. As I rode the final miles to Burlington, I listened to the song Last Time on the Road again and again.
At 6:15 p.m. I sat on my own porch and quietly watched the sunset through my norwegian pines. My TransAm summer of 2021 has come to its end. I am home.
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