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Highs and Lows in the Hills of Vermont

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This entry was posted on 5/31/2006 11:22 AM and is filed under uncategorized.

I'm rounding the corner, and heading back to Maine. In fact, I'm a mere quarter mile from the road I started on.
 
The trouble is I've got other things on my mind lately, so it's hard to focus on the road.
 
To catch up quickly since my last entry, I believe I was in Waltham, here's the summary.
 
From Waltham, I rode to Cumberland Hill, Rhode Island. The next day, to Connecticut. Oh, god, what a miserable night that was. I'd accidentally climbed to the highest point in the state of Rhode Island, and was fairly tired when I crossed the state line. I considered checking into a motel, but kept going until I found an honest to goodness camp site. I set my stuff down, and when the ranger came around, he thought it was way cool what I was doing.
 
"You know, there's a campground just a mile down the road with flush toilets and a shower," he said. So I grabbed my stuff, and hopped back on The Captain, and rode another mile.
 
It was a mile in the direction I'd come from, though. But that shower sure sounded nice. (Once I got there, I remembered I didn't even have a towel with me. I couldn't take a shower.)
 
I set my stuff down once again, and asked the ranger where the closest place to buy food was.
"There's a good pizza place about three miles away."
"Which direction?"
He pointed east
 
So, despite being hungry, I resolved to tough it out, and ride to the next general store in the morning.
 
There was a very nasty looking black cloud heading my way, so I quickly took the tent off my unicycle, and tried to set it up as fast as I could. As soon as I'd unrolled it, the heavens opened up, and began raining like it hadn't rained in a century (more accurately, it hadn't rained in about three hours.) A moment later, it began hailing. So, I abandoned ship, took my electronics, and headed to the bathroom building to hide out in the lovely, useless shower facility.
 
Thirty minutes later, it was over. The sun came out, and it was beautiful. Everything was cold and wet. My tent had half an inch of water in it, my maps were soaked, all my clothes were wet, it was awful. So, I set up my tent, tried to bail it out, and dry it out the best I could before it got dark. Eventually, I went to bed; cold, wet, and miserable.
 
An hour later, I woke up with numb hand and feet. I stumbled off to the bathroom to warm up with that hand dryer they have, pushing that button every 30 seconds to keep it going.
 
So, I went back, and my tent was gone. Just, gone. The wind had blown it over a fence. I had some heavy stuff in there, too. Two liters of water, the thing I use as a pillow... I had it staked down! So, I brought it back, threw it on the ground, and went back to bed. All night, the wind would blow and flap my tent wildly enough to make the fabric slap me in the face. It was all wet and cold, too.
 
The next day I stayed with my neighbor's son's girlfriend's mother, and got my first flat tire of the trip.
 
The next night, I stayed in a van behind Gravity Warehouse in Southwick, MA. After that, a house in Amherst, and to a high jump mat in Brattleboro, Vermont.
 
There's a whole lot to tell, but what is currently wearing on my mind started that night in Brattleboro. I had a lengthy arguement with my girlfriend of about two and a half years.
 
Monday, I was determined to make it to Montpelier. I set out an hour early, and resolved not to stop moving until sundown. I made great time, too. By noon, I'd covered 35 miles. I stopped at a gas station in Bethel, Vermont to refuel, and decided to check my voicemail. There was not one, but three messages from my girlfriend saying she thought we should "maybe take a break of some kind."
 
That night, when I got to Montpelier, after riding between sixty and seventy miles, Bill Merrylees (who I'm staying with) asked me how the hills were that day. Honestly, I didn't know. I'd been too busy preparing for the worst.
 
You know, I've spent the past month more or less alone. I ride alone, I sleep alone... I'm pretty much alone. But for seven hours as I rode north from Bethel; that was the first time I felt alone. And I didn't suspect it would get much better.
 
I'm reminded of a line from The Three Musketeers. Aramis, who is a lover of women, says to D'Artagnon, "Careful, D'Artagnon, women were created for our demise and are responsible for all men's miseries."
 
Anyway, I'm still dealing with that. I'll be here with Bill until Friday morning. In the meantime, I'm sitting in and helping out with the unicycle workshops he teaches. It's good. Lots of pictures.
 
Captain Pasquale is an unusual unicycle. Besides the 36" wheel (which even seasoned unicyclists have a hard time adjusting to), he has a rack with a sizable amount of weight on it. Furthermore, I've got some lengthy legs. Anyway, even people who ride unicycles a lot can't handle riding Captain Pasquale. But, much to my surprise, Bill Merrylees showed off for the kids by not only riding, but getting the hang of a rolling mount and speeding around the gym. Once again, I got lots of pictures.
 
I'm off to explore the city, and clear my head. I suspect I'll be home by Wednesday. I'll be mroe certain when I get back on the road.
 
Take care!
 
Max
 

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