Adventures of a novice rider on the Carriage Trails

Last Updated on September 12, 2023 by

We made plans to foray into the park this morning and go biking on my brand spanking new bike. (Merry Christmas to me from the best in-laws ever!) .
We started out slightly off track as Shawn Googled Lord knows what to get us to the Hull Cove Visitor Center where were supposed to meet family. Instead we ended up circling around past the Cadillac Mountain Entrance and part of Bar Harbor before making our way back over to the Visitor Center. Missed a left turn, most likely while we were aimlessly jawjacking, but off track all the same.
I, of course, had to pee before we started on our ride so I grabbed the National Park Passport book out of the backseat and headed up to the Visitor Center to also get my cancellation stamp. I say UP to the Visitor Center because once I crossed the parking lot, I had to climb 52 stairs to get to the building. Yes, you heard me correctly, FIFTY TWO granite steps. That should have been my first indicator that this was not going to be the easiest bike ride, but, as you all know… Polly Anna, rose colored glasses, and all that. And the adventure begins.

I found a stall at the end of the bathroom that was vacant and turned to find someplace to place my Passport book and to my surprise, there wasn’t a place. What?! Did you not think I was going to regale you with my adventure in the bathroom? Silly kids. As I turned in a circle to find a place to put the book, (like turning in a circle in that dinky space was actually going to find me a place to put the book), I decided on the railing (like that was going to work), and promptly dropped it on the floor. Bending over to pick it up, I bonked my head on the side rail as my phone fell out of my back pocket and into the toilet. Yelping, I hastily snatched the phone out of the toilet, water dripping everywhere, especially onto the toilet paper that was on the floor (because why wouldn’t there be TP on the floor?!) which immediately stuck to the bottom of my hiking boot. It’s a good thing I have a sense of humor. And sani-wipes in the car.

Like I said, “And the adventure begins.”

Back at the parking lot, we pulled out the map (that I had just bought up in the Visitor Center because you can never be too prepared) and we all decided we’d head out on the carriage trails towards Eagle Lake and potentially Jordan Pond depending on how we felt. IE…depending on how my butt felt with this, our first bike ride in years. Off we went with family in the lead, Shawn right behind them and me bringing up the rear. And immediately, we started ascending. On what will now and forever more be deemed, “The Never Ending Hill”. Family pulled away. Then Shawn pulled away. Then I started grunting and gasping. Then I had to get off the bike and trudge up the hill. Like I said, that damn thing was a never ending hill. At some point, I felt like a half wit walking up the road with my bike, so got back on it and when I finally made it to the top, found everyone waiting for me like good family does.

Fair warning – if you decide to depart for any sort of Acadia event – riding/walking/hiking and depart from Hulls Cove – Angela is not kidding. That first hill right out of the gate is almost enough to make you turn around and go home. Just ask the dozen or so other half wits also walking their bikes up the hill.

After that it wasn’t so bad. I don’t know if the landscape leveled out a bit or if I just got into a routine, but we continued on and once we circled Eagle Lake decided that I could actually make it to Jordan Pond. Plus, our family, who you all know, are much more prolific bike riders than Shawn and I, were troopers and made lots of stops for me along the way.
She undersells it. While the going after that first hill was generally easier, there were still some pretty significant hills in both directions. It is a beautiful ride on the carriage roads and very little overcrowding, but you will know you were on a bike ride for the day. For anyone who enjoys bike riding and not so much mountain biking, the trails are crushed gravel and will let you ride over 50 miles all over the park to include to the tops of several mountains. (Although the hills are a bit much at times) this is exactly my type of ride and absolutely perfect for anyone reintroducing themselves to the bicycle seat. (Note the general rounding of the abdominal area of yours truly and you can appreciate how much pressure is exerted on that little seat – and body parts unmentioned.)
After getting to Jordan Pond (7.4 miles later, but who’s counting?), we decided that discretion was the better part of valor and should probably head back to the parking lot or I would most likely be in a world of hurt tomorrow. This would not be a good thing as more family were heading into town and I knew there would probably be hiking on the agenda for tomorrow. After a quick bit of “touristing”, picture taking of Jordan House and the Bubbles, and snacking, we headed out across the street past the Gate Lodges and towards the carriage trail that would take us around the Triad and Pemetic mountains (because who wants to take the exact same way back when you can get a different view?) We passed Bubble Pond, had another little break and back down the opposite side of Eagle Lake. Lastly, we ended up back at “The Never Ending Hill” and that’s when I realized exactly how long and tall it really was. There was sign at the top of the hill that I had missed on the ascent which says it all. Needless to say, there was a little white knuckling going on as I went down that damn hill on the gravel.
I distinctly heard a ‘Bonzai’ before Angela started her descent. Maybe it wasn’t her, maybe it was just in my mind, but prove it to me otherwise.

Needless to say, it was a beautiful day and we couldn’t have asked for better company. What a great way to start our “vacation”. Thanks everyone for putting up with my slowness and constant stopping. Yes, we are very grateful to our fellow riders for letting us go at our own pace and keeping the day a joyful experience rather than a death march. The landscape here deserves taking the time to smell the flowers.

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