2/10 – Belfast Maine – 04 May 2024

I left the Bellmard Inn on a bright morning headed for Benton, about 230 km away. I took Route 1 north to the junction with Route 6 and followed this to Lincoln; Route 2 took me to Bangor and finally Route 202 took me through Unity to Benton. After a while, one road seems much like all the others, unless there is something very special about it; this road, while good riding, had nothing particularly special about it.

Except for my stop in the town of Lincoln. Maybe it was the bright sunshine, but it just demanded that I stop here for my coffee. I parked outside Gather Brunch and Bar on Fleming Street. I was tinkering with my wind screen when two ladies came out of the bar and the younger greeted me cheerfully; “Oh, this is different,” I thought. Five minutes later two elderly ladies pulled up beside me. The one smiled warmly at me and noted that it was a great day for riding. I agreed. She then told me, wistfully, how she used to ride with her now deceased husband. “We used to go all over,” she said, “I miss it.” We chatted a bit more, before she went off inside.

I followed shortly afterwards and established myself – or rather dumped my helmet and stuff on a table – in the middle of the brunch, I suppose as that is what it was called. Changing my mind, I was moving to a seat at the corner of the bar, when a guy came in, greeted me with a nod and then asked where I was headed. Over the next 30 minutes, we had a great chat about all sorts of things; he was a UPS driver, so I avoided the sorry saga of my GPS.

Anyway, he was clearly well known to and friendly with the girl behind the bar / serving in the brunch, so she joined in our conversation as she came and went. My companion was called Johnny (or maybe Johnnie) Walker and he smiled when I asked if he got many whisky comments; the bar lady introduced herself as, “Katy, the crazy one” – Katy the Crazy Lady, I laughed. As I got ready to leave, I asked for the bill for my coffee, “I got ya,” says Katy the Crazy Lady, “you ride safe now.” I gave them both one of my much sought after stickers. J

On the way out, I saw again my elderly lady – that keeps amusing me every time I say it; like I’m some youngster! I passed by the two old dolls tucking into platefuls – well only half-platefuls at this point – of waffles and maple syrup. Mine was full of craic; must have been some girl in her day, I reckon.

The weather chilled some as I continued and by the time I arrived at All Season Powersports & Equipment in Benton where I was staying with Jamin and Bethany Craig; Jamin runs a workshop taking in engines of all shapes and sizes, assisted from time to time by the five of their seven sons still living at home.

Bethany is a nurse, although I don’t think she is practicing just now as she has her hands full keeping her six charges in good order; unfortunately, I didn’t get to chat much to her as she left early the morning after I arrived to drive halfway across the country to pick up one of the boys from university. She does make a delicious lasagne though, and chocolate brownies that are well nigh impossible to resist.

On Thursday I had planned to go to Belfast, about 60 km away, but in the morning, there was a deluge rather than a dawn, so the trip to Belfast was postponed and I spent the day “helping” Jamin in the workshop where he was working on his Dad’s Honda Goldwing. I say “helping” because he told me what to remove, I did it and, like any good apprentice, broke something critical in the process. It was a special t-piece for the fuel hose, but Jamin graciously commented that it was very brittle being so old and probably would have broken no matter who was taking it off. I later met his dad, and tried hard to convince him that, in spite of his new knees, he was not too old to take a cross-country trip on his Goldwing.

“They’re new,” I told him, “You’ve nothing to worry about!”

He wasn’t convinced!

Belfast, Maine

Belfast, Maine was not at all what I had expected. I got an inkling of this when I suggested to Jamin, that we might find the thing I broke there and he informed me that the nearer town of Waterville, which I thought was quite small, was bigger than Belfast. Well as it turns out, Belfast, Maine, is little more than a village, a pretty village at its centre, but a village, nonetheless.

My first stop was at the Belfast Historical Society and Museum. Parking in the courthouse opposite, I was disappointed to see a “CLOSED” sign on the door. Somewhat dejectedly, I went over to read the sign and was delighted to see “Open by Arrangement”, with a phone number. So I called J and got an answer phone. I thought I might as well leave a message, so I launched into my whole “wandering biker on a mission” story and was almost finished when the door opened to reveal a smiling lady, who stood looking at me while I finished my message by saying, “And now I think I’m standing looking at you while leaving this message, so I guess I can stop now!”

Megan Pinette, President, and a little later Joyce Fenner, native of Maine and long-time supporter of the society and museum gave me a full story of the town and the society.

Belfast, Maine was established by a group of Ulster-Scots moving from Londonderry, New Hampshire, in 1770. The original surveyor was one John Mitchell and he wanted to call the new settlement Londonderry. However, another member of the group, one Jim Miller, who hailed from the original Belfast objected; he wanted to name it after his own hometown. The story goes that he pulled a coin out of his pocket and tossed it; Belfast, Maine was born!

It was abandoned during the American Revolutionary War, but the inhabitants returned in 1800 to develop the town into a major ship building and manufacturing centre mimicking, its sister-city; hundreds of wooden ships were built here, and it was a centre of export of much agricultural produce and shoes. It declined somewhat in the later part of the 20th century, but now with a focus on the arts and creative industries, it is regaining some of its former glory.

There are many beautiful old houses and buildings, many of which have been restored, and a shop that sells delicious ice-cream. Oh, and a café by the waterfront that served the best limoncello cream cake I’ve tasted.

Then it was back to Benton for one last night at Jasmin and Bethany’s, before I was to head off towards Mount Vernon in New Hampshire.

Bunk-a-Biker, BikerBunks and HipCamp

Jamin is also a biker – Triumph Tiger – who has done several long trips across the country himself. I met him through the Bunk-a-Biker network. This is a network of bikers, who offer support to others travelling by bike. That support ranges from local advice to accommodation or camping, workshop facilities, and trailering if necessary. It’s a great way to meet other bikers and share experiences, and if my experience with Jamin and Bethany is what I can expect, then I’m yer man and I’ll be using it a lot.

There is also another network called BikerBunks which Jamin told me about and it operates the same way, so I’ll be trying that out also. HipCamp is another resource he told me about. This is a network of camping sites, ranging from basic tent pitches with no facilities up to the glamping type of arrangement. You have to pay on this one, and the cost varies according to the facilities provided.