There once was a man from... (Part II)

Saturday, June 17

Tomorrow will be an adventure for sure. I've booked a ferry ride from Hyannis to Nantucket Island for myself and my bike. When I arrived here at the campsite I had planned to take a quick ride around the lake here in the Nickerson State Park. My back tire was low, so I screwed down the valve ring and clamped on the pump, but after a few seconds I heard the too familiar sound of air escaping from a crack in the stem.

Shit.

I have a backup plan, though. Two, actually. Although I did bring a repair kit, they do little for cracks in tube near the base of the stem. And it'll take a lot of time to work on. Still, I'll have nothing better to do on the hour-long ferry ride. Plan A. Luckily this morning before I left I located a bike shop on the island not 1/4 mile from the wharf on which the ferry docks, so at the very worst I'll walk a few hundred yards before they can fix it. Plan B.

The success of this trip depends completely on my bicycle working. The island is 14 miles across, so unless I want to spend all day walking, rent a different bicycle, or *gasp* take a bus (!!!) I'll need to get this thing fixed.

Still, I couldn't have hoped for better weather. The air is warm, only slightly humid, and the sky today was cloudless. After Plymouth I drove down to the Cape to see some small towns like Barnstable, Brewster, and Sandwich.

Wait... Sandwich?

Yeah. Sandwich. The town was gorgeous, iced delicately with bicycle paths, walkways, and lakes. I took this picture earlier today next to the Hoxie House (I have no idea what this place was, but I had to stop because the name reminded me of the Hokie House bar in Blacksburg, ubiquitously known as "HoHo").



There's a lake here as well. Well, according to the map it's "Cliff Pond," but it looks like a lake. With the frustration of my flat tire, I grabbed a beer and took a walk.



The water calmed me down some. Or maybe it was the beer. Because it's getting late, I leave you with these parting words:

Tomorrow morning,
like all before, comes early.
Six o'clock is nigh.