Today’s route, on Day 8 of the trip, was about 30 miles long, from Brunswick to Poland Spring, ME, and struck a familiar refrain with plenty of hills and heat–we hit a high of 88 degrees this afternoon. There was a nice flat stretch of 6-8 miles along the Androscoggin River late this morning. There was also a lot of road construction this afternoon, with large road construction trucks and lane closures. One of the flagmen supervisors drove up to me and told me I was free to ride in the closed lane, where there had been some asphalt repairs earlier in the afternoon. He said drivers who get held up by lane closures are kind of crazy and he wanted me to be safe.

I had a nice break in Durham, ME, where there is a historical plaque honoring Joe Wier, a “famous scout and Indian fighter” who “ranged” in the area.

I don’t think our friend Christina S. is even aware of my trip and these blogs, but I always think of her every time I see a typo on signage (especially involving the misuse of apostrophes). I will have to remember to share this one with her, which I thought was amusing.

Heading into Poland, ME, which apparently is named after an “ancient melody” of that name rather than the country.

Some photos from my arrival at the Poland Springs Resort, which claims to be the oldest continuously running resort and oldest resort golf course in the United States. An inn began operating on the property in 1794. In 1844, the inn’s owner, Hiram Ricker, discovered the medicinal properties of the water there–it cured his case of dyspepsia after he drank it for 10 days–and he began marketing it commercially in 1859. Interestingly, the resort provides no bottled water of any kind in the rooms, and Poland Springs water is available at the front desk, for purchase, at $2 a bottle.

The Inn appears to be struggling a bit to keep up with the ongoing need for updating and improvements. I am staying in a room in the Presidential Inn building, where many of the rooms are named after former Presidents and their First Ladies. I got assigned to the Barak [sic] Obama room, where there was no light bulb in the desk lamp, so I had to get one from the front desk. I hope that if former President Obama ever stays here, they will make sure to have bulbs in all the lamps, and to correct the misspelling of his name on the door–to “Barack” Obama. Interestingly, the room across from this one and the next rooms down the hall are named for Nancy Reagan, Betty Ford, and Pat Nixon. It’s not clear why Barack and I are in the midst of all these former First Ladies.

Here is the Presidential Inn Building at twilight:

This old lamp in the main entryway didn’t appear to be in very good condition, but I thought the design incorporating the Declaration of Independence was pretty cool.

Uh oh. Another typo. Road signs, brass plaques, who has time to proof-read things like that anymore?

The front entrance to my building at the Inn. Getting my bike with its 45 lbs. of gear up these steps was a challenge, but fortunately, my room is on the first floor. There are no elevators here.

Tomorrow’s destination, Bridgton (population 5,200), is again about 30 miles away. Reservations have been a little hard to get, but I thankfully managed to land one earlier this evening.