A Living Magazine - Grounded in Maine - Day 3 - Falmouth to Yarmouth

It was a dead sleep that I awoke from. The time was about 8:00 am. I'd slept right through my watch alarm. The air was slightly less humid, but the sun was drawing up mist from the soaked ground. I was really tired and pretty hungry.

I unzipped the tent flap and pulled the green tarp off, laying it aside to dry and exposing the tent fly to the sun. Then I sprawled back down and fell back asleep. At around 11:30 am I woke again to a mostly dry tent, put my shoes on and checked the green tarp. It was dry. I packed up and headed back down to the shopping area of Falmouth.

I stopped by Shaw's again to buy a sandwich with the last of my funds. As I was walking down one of the aisles, a friend of mine said, "Hi Alex!"

I looked back to see Julia Noyes standing there with her daughter. I had just seen her the week before at the reunion in Yarmouth. How cool was that?

We talked for a while and then went about our separate shopping chores. We met again at the register, and knowing of my tight financial situation, she offered to buy my sandwich and chips for me. I resisted, but she insisted. Twisted my arm. I was very appreciative of this. I don't think she understood just how much it helped.

Then, it was off to Starbucks to work for the day. This time an afternoon storm was building and hit at 3:00 pm. And, MAN, did it hit...

So glad I wasn't out in that!

It lasted until 6:00 pm, then cleared up. Checking the weather online I saw that there would be no more rain for a few days. I would be able to walk to Yarmouth that night.

I almost got the post about Rick Hamilton done by their closing time at 8:00 pm, but not quite. Publication would have to wait until the next day. I left for Yarmouth...

The view up Route 1.

It only took about 1.75 hours to go from the edge of Falmouth to the edge of Yarmouth where my sleep spot was. It was nice to have established it the week before and not have to look around on this night.

I arrived and set up the simplest configuration of the tent, though I did put the green tarp under to keep the bottom dry. The I went to what was becoming my favorite spot to hang out at, the train tracks. I'm a pacer. I pace when I think. Probably left over from the inclination to walk all the time. 

So, I paced up and down the tracks, thinking. Exactly 98 railroad ties from the one opposite my path is a marker. By the time I headed back to the tent to go to sleep, it had also become my Nomadic symbol...

I climbed into the tent and had a very relaxing sleep, right through to the morning.