The first part of the day's ride took us past a long stretch of houses perched along the ocean and a swampy area that's designated a National Wildlife Refuge. Though a nice place to ride, the conclusion is inescapable that this is a stupid place to build anything. It looked horrifyingly like the Outer Banks. It also conjured up thoughts of swooning newscasts describing the terrible tragedy of these (vacation) homes being swept away by a storm.
This image, however, is from a place that time has solidified rather than swept away -- it's Congdon's Donuts in Wells, Maine. When we arrived, we propped our bikes against the last of a long line of benches outside. Seemed odd that a place would have so many benches. But before twenty minutes passed, the benches were full and the donut line ran out the door well into the parking lot. Clint and Nana Congdon founded the place in 1945.