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Old 07-12-18, 03:31 PM
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For the second day of the tour, we left the panniers off the bikes and just rode with the trunk bags, 33 miles of peregrinations around Rye, New Castle, Portsmouth, and Kittery. After a great breakfast and a really informative chat with our hostess about local and family history and architectural idioms over the previous 200 years, we set out from our home base at the b&b in Rye, and rode back to the coast and 1A, following that North past Rye's snug harbor, admiring its complement of cormorants.

We rode trails in a state historical park in Rye, on the site of an estate that was converted to a Coast Artillery battery during WWII. As the stack of centuries would have it, it was also the scene of the first English habitation in New Hampshire, in the 17th Century.

Back on the road, past splendid estuarine scenes.

We stopped at another state park, in New Castle, to relax on the beach and take an extremely cold dip. Refreshing.

This park is a hotbed of pleine air painters, a fact commemorated by a droll bit of public art.

We showered off and got back on the bikes, cooler but hungrier, and set off in search of a lobster roll. We didn't find any in the charming village of New Castle, but did find one at a place my daughter knew in Portsmouth. Yum! After that, it was back on the bikes and over the Piscataqua River on the Memorial Bridge and into Kittery, where I bought a tail light to replace one that had committed seppuku. So we get minimum token bragging rights for having ridden to Maine...

After that, back across the river to the Strawberry Banke Museum, a village-sized historical preservation and reinactment area. Too much to tell about that, and this photo of my daughter in an ethnobotanical herb garden will have to represent the whole (along with this poster from a WWII-era General Store).

The Strawberry Banke exhibits closed at 5, but by chance a concert by Liz & Dan Faiella started up immediately after; my daughter knew these folks, and thought highly of their music, so we sat down and enjoyed an accidental pleasure.

It had been a hot day, and towards the end of the set the sky was darkening ominously, and the pocket devil showed energetic doings coming our way on the weather radar. We discreetly left the concert and hopped on our bikes, sprinting back to Rye before the thunder storm that declined to follow us. We only got lost once during this exercise...



Last edited by rholland1951; 07-13-18 at 08:33 AM.
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