J. Fink: Remember that really nice adventure we had?  By the waterfall?  It was sunny and not windy at all.  And we went sliding down all those hills…

Kid Fink: It wasn’t nice for me.

J. Fink: Well, okay.  We did get lost.  And your mittens were wet and cold.  But that’s what makes it an adventure!  Like when the Superfriends get stuck in a trap and have to figure how to get out.  We had to figure how to get out of the woods!

Kid Fink: It’s not very exciting.

Well, we do our best.  I can only hope that, on some primal level, he enjoyed it.

My advice to you:  Take close note of the junction where the trail from the trailhead joins the trail along the river.  It’s easy to miss the turn on the way back.

P.S.  Bikes are wecome on this trail.  That means you.

"We'll work it all out as we go along. Let our practice form our doctrine, thus assuring precise theoretical coherence."

Traditionally, mid-February is the time when I allow myself to begin daydreaming about spring.

Planning the garden, plotting bike rides, researching camping trips.  Trying to intuit the balance between my ambition and Kid Fink’s age.  And I do a lot of reading – hoping that it boosts my dubious Naturalist Intelligence for the coming season. 

Reading is a poor substitute for doing, I know.  But it passes the time.  Late winter in Maine isn’t its most stellar moment.  The snow is grainy, icy and dirty.  The glaciers in the neighborhood recede revealing three months of accumulated dog turds.  The sun teases and the wind freezes.

On a recent trip I read a collection of Edward Abbey’s essays and fiction.  Last year it was Colin Fletcher.  These guys write inspiring stories about the Southwest.  Fletcher is practical.  Abbey is subversive.

The problem is, I don’t live in the Southwest!  About as far from it as you can get.  Who’s writing good outdoors literature about Maine?

A quick survey of the Maine Literary Map gave me some ideas.  I should probably give Thoreau a try.  Carson’s “Sense of Wonder” sounds nice.  I liked “One Man’s Meat”, although it never really felt authentic.  A gentleman-farmer writing for the New Yorker?

What do you know?  Any recommendations out there?

Riverbend Smelting Camp

We caught seven smelts.  And we ate them up there and then.

Through an unfortunate confluence of events, it happens that this was the first time in my life that I had reeled in a fish.  And, it boggled my mind…

Do you mean to tell me that, wherever you are, you can literally drop a line in the water and you might pull up a fish?  It turns out that, stripped of all its arcane knowledge and endless equipment, fishing is simple and beautiful!  Maybe not successful, but that depends on how on measure success, right?

For those hardy enough to ride a bike in the deep, dark, Maine winter, a smelting camp would be a great destination for a ride.  They provide everything you need for fishing -  lines and bait all housed in a wood-heated, sauna-like shack.  The fishing hole is inside the shack.  Like Mark says, “It’s a little like fishing from your living room.”

Let’s get small. These guys believe that everything you need to catch a fish fits in an Altoid Tin.  Or smaller.

Another goal for 2009.  Drop more lines.

Nice going Rogues Gallery!

This fine purveyor of T’s has published a beautiful new bicycle map and are renting bikes from Percy Cycles.

I love it when bicycles escape from the insular little world of the bike shop and start flirting at boutiques and galleries.  So, I was very happy when Zero Station offered to host my turn presenting the Traffic Safety Seminar sponsored by the Portland Bike Commuter Meetup.  Join me, won’t you?

On my to-do list for this summer:  Try to get into the Prides Corner Drive-in on my bicycle.

What could be better on a hot summer night?  A seven mile dusky ride out past Riverside.  With a six-pack and a blanket.  A first-run double-feature for $7.  A late-night ride home.  It sounds perfect!

But will it fly with the ticket taker?  I don’t see why not.  They charge per person, not per car.  There are plenty of kids roaming around – it’s not like you need a vehicle to be safe in the lot.  The sound is broadcast over an FM station, so a small radio is all you need to tune in.

Has anyone tried this?  Am I dreaming? 

Like some sort of inverted road map, the Maine Interconnected Trail System gets more dense as it heads North!

I’ll admit, I don’t have a lot of experience with this network of trails.  My most recent attempt to ride from Standish to Denmark was a total disaster complete with mechanical failures, sibling arguments, mosquito madness and heat stroke.

But the thought of an entire web of trails that could take me all the way from my doorstep to the Canadian border is irresistible.  If anyone out there has real advice about these trails, let me know!

Curious?  Close to Portland, the Standish Sno-Seekers, Grey Snow Wolves, and Gorham SnoGoers have generously posted their local maps online.  And the Sebago Branch Duckers and Falmouth Snow Voyagers will send you a map for a few bucks!

The sad truth of living on a hill is that, for every giddy coast downhill, there’s the inevitable grind back up to the top.

This is doubly true when you use your bike to do a little shopping.  An exercise in sustainable living turns into a symposium on curse words when you are slowly winching your way back up hill – now with 20 extra pounds of groceries and a 35 pound kid on the back.  It’s enough to make you re-think those electric assist thingys.

I have spent five years trying to figure out the best way up Munjoy Hill and, I’m slightly embarrassed to say, it took Google Earth to help me visualize what is going on topographically.  What an incredible program that is!  It’s staggering to think that, for the princely sum of $0.00, you can get all the images shown below instantly sent to your home.  We are truly living in a golden age.

As you have probably intuited, the Portland Peninsula is roughly “saddle-shaped”.  The East End and West End neighborhoods sit on the high points.  Congress Street runs the ridge from the East End to the West End.  The trick then, is to get on the ridge line at the lowest point of the “saddle”.   This makes for a gradual climb to a high point.

 
And so, I have a new geographical appreciation for Pearl Street.  This little gem with a 3% grade will get you up onto Congress from Bayside.  Conveniently, recent development has put a nice little pass from Marginal Way to the foot of Chestnut Street!  But Google doesn’t know that…yet.

Can you guess the absolute steepest grade up Munjoy Hill?

Well…

The hardest way up to the top of Munjoy Hill is Fox Street to Walnut Street.  This 9% grade is exaggerated below to show what it actually feels like.

For the adventurous, there is a second easy passage up the hill, but it requires a tricky (and slightly illegal) maneuver.  This route takes advantage of Munjoy Hill’s classic drumlin shape, letting you climb from “tail” to “head” on an easy grade. 

It’s the middle of February.  Only two more months of winter!  Ugh.  And it’s a sure sign that Cabin Fever has taken hold when you start admiring your city’s potholes.

Yes, after four months of frost heaves, we have got some doozys out there.  The best ones are hidden under puddles, just waiting to throw you over the bars.  They’ll flip you.  Flip you for real.

If you are cycling around Portland, you might look at potholes as an impromptu archaeological dig, exposing layers of the city’s past.   Just under the asphalt is a whole nother world of cobbles and traintracks!  Potholes are windows into another time!  Who knew?

Michelle over at Strange Maine has some excellent posts about Portland’s cobblestone streets.  Did you know that the cobbles came over from Europe as ballast on the ships?  They would empty the cobbles from the ship’s hold, and load up with New World riches before heading back.

Also, did you know that Kid Fink loves riding over cobbles?  “Bumpy!”  He’s got the right idea.  There’s nothing like cobblestones to make you slow down, look around, and think about where you are.

Coming soon:  A ride that takes full advantage of Portland’s cobblestones.  Stay tuned…

Right.  As I was saying…

A biker in need is a friend indeed.  Lookabout was proud to lend eco-activist Rachel T.  a stylish ride for her time in Augusta.  Down with Plum Creek!  

You should know:  It’s a blue Columbia three-speed.  Made in Westfield, Massachusetts, no doubt. 

Nom-de-guerre:  The Annabelle Lee.

I like islands as much as the next guy, but getting to them is another story:

Kid Fink and I took a ride out to Peaks Island a few weeks ago.  We brought our bike out on the Casco Bay Lines ferry.  $7.50 for me.  $6.00 for my bike!

And for that handsome fee, I got to stash my bike under the stairs where it wouldn’t be in the way.  What?!

I’m outraged!  Furious!  I’m more than furious.  I’m infurious!

Forget them.  I’ll ride my bike to the islands…

Cousin’s Island and Littlejohn Island are a couple of small islands off the coast at Yarmouth.  They are connected by bridges, so your bike is the only transport needed.  Only 15 miles from Portland.  How can you go wrong?  The ride features:

• Back Cove – The worlds greatest tidal pool.
• Route 88 - Get your kicks on a classic coastal ride.
• Mackworth Island - Ride out to the harbor on a wooden bridge.
• Ledge Cemetery – Spooky burying grounds!
• City views from a highway overpass - Somehow, always thrilling to me.

Download a printer-friendly PDF of the map here.  More photos, too.