After visiting the summit I rode through Gorham into Maine. I was surprised at the number of Confederate Flags I saw flying from houses in Maine. Riding through Maine was uneventful and I wound up at the Green Cove Campground. This was a fishing campground and I thought I was back in the red neck south. I was assigned a tent spot next to a family that could have been from the deepest, darkest Alabama. I mean no offense to any one from Alabama. Every other word was the the F-bomb and I'm not talking just mamma and daddy. The kids were throwing it around like it was a cheap baseball. After a well deserved shower and laundry I drifted off to sleep with the sound of family cursing in the background.
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