144 miles.
The bugs are out in force, and I truly appreciated that David, another urbanite like myself, was content to hide in our respective tents and have conversation through mesh flyscreens until bedtime. At some point, I tossed him some whiskey that I'd poured in a spare water bottle.
Today, I spotted an angry blob of red and orange headed our way on radar. I usually don't bother pulling out tarp to shield my scooter (after all, the valuables are protected and the rest will dry out), but today I'd rather not ride sopping wet.
After an eventful two days, I boarded the Port Kent-Burlington ferry and David turned north for home. It was great sharing the road, I got a bit tearful waving farewell as the ferry pulled away.
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