It could not have been a more beautiful day on 1A out of the metropolis of Bangor while I balanced the world across the river bridge atop the jersey wall. How people driving by think that when they honk at a man using both hands to roll a canvas world on a six inch concrete wall over a river can wave back is as twisted as a Steven King novel. I asked Ethan to do it; he had to turn off his headphones for the bridge and did a fine job of waving to the encouraging passers by. It was a much shorter bridge than the one in Connecticut but with equal peril to our world if I should loose balance.
A short distance. Further and a track hoe was moving dirt on a building lot. The operator looked like he knew his machine; I asked him if he would hold our world in his bucket for a picture. He was like a kid with a big toy and handled the task with care and a smile. I love big toys, like the highway-the trillion dollar playground- for our world. Yesterday I came by two well groomed lawns joined by a deep ravine, I had to unleash the world, let gravity do the rest and give chase.
At the end of the day along the busiest road in Maine we rolled into the first general store in Holden when the local police officer pulled in to ask if we could hold en' up our walk until the rush hour was through. He also told us of the best place to park for the evening. Our favorite friendly dysfunctional veteran was there to shuttle me to the van and all was good with the world by the time darkness fell on the valley.
We have a good sixteen miles to go before we can turn off 1A to more scenic old roads. We need to eat our wheaties in the morning and get ta' steppin'.
Ta ta for now-TTFN