Bongor

When we touched down in Bangor I was greeted by a flight of stairs that went from the plane to the tarmac. I felt like some famous president making a grand enterence to a city as the crowds of citizens and reporters awaited my arrival. It took all that was in me not to wave to the invisable crowd from the top step.

After gathering my luggage I made my way to the local bike shop where I had shipped my bike. Scott, the owner of the bike shop was a really good guy and was kind enough to let me build my bike in a small corner of his shop. Talking to Scott it seemed that the business was doing good in Bangor. After my bike was built I loaded my panniers with all of my gear and was on my way. My first order of business was to find a place to ship the duffle bags I had carried all my gear in on the plane back home. By now it was around 6 o'clock and all the post offices were closed. I didn't know what to do so I started riding around the town scoping out a place to stay for the night. At one point I pulled over on the side of the road to look at my map, when I was looking at my map a car had pulled up behind me. A middle aged man approached and asked if I needed any help. I told him I was looking for a motel or a place to pitch my tent, within about thirty seconds he offered me a room at his house that was just down the street. I graciously accepted and introduced myself.