A few years ago, before I met Kathy, and of course before Lucy came along, I rode my bike on some of these same Maine islands that he describes in the books. I can't keep their names straight, but we went on a sort of island ferry (just a smallish boat, really- not a ferry) and they would drop us off on these small, nearly abandoned islands, and pick us up in a couple hours, going on to another island if we wanted.
So, I had my mountain bike of the time (a GT avalanche, I believe) and we rode mostly dirt roads, which was interesting, but on one of these islands, there was a wonderful trail, not overgrown, but rich with leafy growth and fallen trees over the trail. You know the kind I'm talking about? A real adventure kind of trail, but still used enough that there wasn't any "this way? that way?" guessing games about it (as I remember).
Seemed par for the course back then (I grew up an only child with one parent, so while I was still single, there were lots of adventure sort of vacations), but as I look back, it seems like a pretty cool ride story to me. Lashing down my bike to the top of a boat and getting dropped off on an island. Cool.
The postscript to this story is that I believe this was all a part of a trip with Mom to Acadia National Park, where I would later go with my new wife on our honeymoon, since some friends' parents had a cabin in Bar Harbor that they let us use for a week as a wedding present. Isn't it funny how life all fits together?
And now I read to my daughter about it...
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