Friday, August 30...Please Come to Boston (Dave Loggins)

   Since Sunday evening when we met up with Adam and Co., we’ve been eating a late breakfast every day and then a substantial supper.  Maybe some snacks thrown in there in the afternoon, maybe not.  It hasn’t been intentional, just the way it’s worked out.  Today we had a light breakfast at the house so we were able to do lunch at lunchtime and then supper at 8.  Three meals today.  How novel!! 

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   We drove into Boston to walk the Freedom Trail.  Parked at the garage underneath the Boston Commons, which is a big green space in a city that has a lot of concrete and cobblestone.  I wasn’t really sure what the Freedom Trail was all about...quickly found out that it’s a 2.5 mile red brick trail leading to 16 nationally significant historic sites. The trail is bookended by the Boston Common and the Bunker Hill Memorial.  We walked past many of the historic sites and even stopped in a couple of them: 

**Granary Burying Ground...Paul Revere, John Hancock, Samuel Adams and other important figures in the bid for independence are buried here.  Elizabeth Goose, purported to be Mother Goose of nursery rhyme fame, is buried here also; however her headstone is missing.  Bummed me out.  

**Boston Common...the big park we walked through to start our Freedom Trail walk.  Back in the day it was considered the ‘common land’ of the community and was used to graze local livestock.  However, it served other purposes also.  It was also a site for Puritanical punishments, home to a whipping post, pillory and stocks.  Pirates, murderers and witches were hanged from the tree known as “The Great Elm,” now gone.  Mary Dyer and three other Quakers were also hanged on the Common for their beliefs. 

   The Common is now a big park with sidewalks, a huge wading area called the Frog Pond and a monument or two.  I much prefer a green space with a frog pond than Puritanical punishments.

**Paul Revere House...Built around 1680, the Paul Revere House, owned by the legendary patriot from 1770-1800, is the oldest remaining structure in downtown Boston and also the only official Freedom Trail historic site that is a home.  Ed and Bonnie went inside, the rest of us opted for sitting in the shade in a nearby park.   

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   We saw the Old North Church where Paul Revere used lanterns to warn the countryside of the coming of the British...”One if by land, two if by sea”.  We passed by the Old South Meeting House where Samuel Adams gave the signal that started the Boston Tea Party after attempts at a compromise of the tea tax failed.  

   So much history in this modern city.  So much walking on a hot sunny afternoon. Never did get all the way to the Bunker Hill memorial...we decided as a group that getting back to the car and driving there was preferable to walking.  So we took a shorter route back to the car which took us through the uphill cobblestone streets of the Beacon Hill area. 

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   The Green Dragon Tavern, the restaurant where we ate lunch, apparently played an important part in the American Revolution also.  It was a favorite meeting place of those in resistance to the acts of the British Crown.  The British plan to capture Samuel Adams and John Hancock was overheard by 13 year old Sam Ballard who alerted the tavern’s landlord. He, in turn, informed the committee of safety, whatever that was. 

   The committee acted upon this information and devised the plan for Paul Revere’s ride...young Sam Ballard was chosen to deliver the historic message to him at his house. 

   It seems that every nook and cranny of Boston can lay claim to playing some part of the bid for independence from British rule.  👍

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   There was a street market with lots of vendors selling fruits and vegetables.  I was curious about a particular reddish fruit that has soft spines and is a bit smaller than a kiwi. Before I knew it Kim had told the man I’d like a pound.  Just that quick I was the possessor of one pound of rambu tan.  Oh-kay! When we got home it was time to try peeling one to see exactly what we’d bought.  I was surprised to find a pit when I bit into it...but overall it was a tasty morsel with the consistency of a grape.  I don’t know if I removed the pit correctly because a small amount of the outer layer remained with the fruit...I tried to peel it off but that was near to impossible so I ate it like it was.  That outer layer of pit didn’t seem to affect the taste; it just made it weirdly crunchy. 

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  We’ve spent time both driving and walking in Boston and I have to say that from the ground the layout of the roads appear to make no sense.  Especially today as we were following the red brick trail...every spare piece of concrete where a pedestrian could wait to cross the road seemed surrounded by cars going every which way.  It seemed like It made my head spin.  I’m thinking an aerial view would be more informative as to the rhyme and reason of the traffic routes and patterns. 

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   Saw a ‘Spite House’ along the way.  Adam knew what it meant and was enthused about seeing one...he had to explain the concept to the rest of us.  Wikipedia defines it as a building constructed or substantially modified to irritate neighbors or any party with land stakes. Spite houses may create obstructions, such as blocking out light or blocking access to neighboring buildings, or can be flagrant symbols of defiance.  The one we saw was actually called ‘The Skinny House’ built in 1862.  It was also labeled as a 'Spite House' so there was that.😉 

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  The Common was hosting a photo exhibit called The Uncornered Project. Here is an excerpt from the panel explaining it:

We all have the experience of feeling cornered.

This is the story of how we became uncornered.

...........

Through bold portraits, photographer John Huet has captured the humanity of a broad range of people, sharing in their own words a moment when they felt cornered and how they became Uncornered.

Experience all the Uncornered stories at stories.uncornered.org

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I only had time to read a few but I found them to be very powerful when combined with the larger than life photos. 

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   We stopped for ice cream then went to a nearby park with a shaded walking path which allowed time for traffic to thin out somewhat.  While there Kim and I tried to find a geocache.  We found the location easy enough...it was located on a viewing platform. But we just couldn’t find the cache...it was hard to give up but the others were waiting for us back at the car.  So we struck out on that one. Bah!

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   Simply hung out at the house tonight trying out the comfy recliners. 

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No miles on the bikes today but got over 15,000 steps on my Fitbit. 😎

Thursday, August 29...Season of the Witch (Donovan)

Woke to no rain but a touch of humidity was back in the air.  Today was moving day again...this time we’re headed to Malden which is just outside of Boston.  We were packed up and on the way to breakfast by 9 a.m.  There are places to go and things to do. 

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   Ate breakfast at St. Joe’s Café, a small corner coffee shop in Scarborough, Maine.  Its motto is ‘Home of the Bennie’ which is a reference to beignets.  Oodles of breakfast sandwiches served all day long plus a bunch of other goodies on the menu. What to order was definitely a difficult decision.  Here’s the scoop from their website:

   The name "St. Joes Coffee" was born from "La Festa di San Giuseppe" or the "Feast of Saint Joseph" where it's customary to celebrate this Patron Saint of Workers, on March 19th, by eating pastry called zeppole. Zeppola is the Italian name for a two inch, deep fried dough "ball" covered with powdered sugar, which is more commonly known as a beignet in the U.S. or the "bennie" here at St. Joe's.

   Home of the Bennie - St. Joe's Coffee is not just a place to get great locally roasted coffee but it is also a place to grab a delicious breakfast sandwich. These aren't typical breakfast sandwiches; they've been described as little omelets on homemade buttermilk biscuits. At last count there were 22 different sandwiches to choose from. There is a daily selection of freshly made muffins and scones, homemade dough nuts and Bennies. What are Bennies? Simply put, the Bennie is fried dough tossed in powdered sugar. But it is so much more than that, the dough is made fresh daily and the Bennies are made to order so they are always hot and delicious. They come four to an order and are served with your favorite dipping sauce (chocolate, blueberry or maple-cinnamon) on the side.

  I had the ‘Roasted Broccoli’ which was a cheese, tomato and broccoli omelet served on a homemade English muffin.  Might try recreating that one at home.

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   On our way to breakfast we pulled up at a traffic light just as it turned yellow.  Waited for it to cycle through to give us the green but it didn’t happen.  Must not have tripped the sensor...I was behind Kim but pulled up even with him to add weight for the next round.  Didn’t work. 

   The second cycle of the light started...the cars in the other lanes of the intersection got their turn to go but not us.  So we scooted a little ahead hoping the car behind us would move up to add his weight and maybe trip the sensor but he wasn’t catching our drift.  I even suggested turning right into the shopping mall so we could come back out and turn right on red if need be.  Kim refused.

  The third cycle started, the line of traffic behind us was building, and there was no approaching traffic. Kim said “Let’s go” and took off.  I was right behind him.  As we cleared the intersection, Kim said, “If the intersection is photo enforced we may be in a little trouble.”

    It was the Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid moment of our trip. 😏

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   Today we wandered around Salem, Massachusetts, famous for the witch trials of 1692.  Lots of old grand homes around the area with the downtown currently appealing to the ‘witchy’ history of the area.  

   We did a self-guided tour of the Salem Witch House.  The name is confusing as no one accused of being a witch lived there; it was actually the home of Judge Jonathan Corwin, one of the magistrates who presided over the trials and it's the only structure still standing with direct ties to the Salem witch trials.  It was an interesting peek into life in the late 1600s and since I didn’t really know much about the witch trials, it was an introduction to a frightening time in history.  Of course, being 350 years removed from the events I have historical perspective but it left me feeling a bit unsettled about the horrible acts committed by humans out of ignorance and in the name of righteousness.     

   From history.com/topics/colonial-america/salem-witch-trials:  The infamous Salem witch trials began during the spring of 1692, after a group of young girls in Salem Village, Massachusetts, claimed to be possessed by the devil and accused several local women of witchcraft. As a wave of hysteria spread throughout colonial Massachusetts, a special court convened in Salem to hear the cases; the first convicted witch, Bridget Bishop, was hanged that June. Eighteen others followed Bishop to Salem’s Gallows Hill, while some 150 more men, women and children were accused over the next several months. By September 1692, the hysteria had begun to abate and public opinion turned against the trials. Though the Massachusetts General Court later annulled guilty verdicts against accused witches and granted indemnities to their families, bitterness lingered in the community, and the painful legacy of the Salem witch trials would endure for centuries.

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   Interesting side note from the same site: In an effort to explain by scientific means the strange afflictions suffered by those "bewitched" Salem residents in 1692, a study published in Science magazine in 1976 cited the fungus ergot (found in rye, wheat and other cereals), which toxicologists say can cause symptoms such as delusions, vomiting and muscle spasms.

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   The interesting thing about these trials is that ‘spectral evidence’ was allowed. Spectral evidence? Time for another Google search.   

“Spectral evidence refers to a witness testimony that the accused person’s spirit or spectral shape appeared to him/her witness in a dream at the time the accused person’s physical body was at another location. It was accepted in the courts during the Salem Witch Trials. The evidence was accepted on the basis that the devil and his minions were powerful enough to send their spirits, or specters, to pure, religious people in order to lead them astray. In spectral evidence, the admission of victims’ conjectures is governed only by the limits of their fears and imaginations, whether or not objectively proven facts are forthcoming to justify them. [State v. Dustin, 122 N.H. 544, 551 (N.H. 1982)].”  (Found on the site https://salemwitchmuseum.com) 

   It took me a while to work through this definition but eventually I got the gist of it. And as maddening as some of the current rules of evidence might be, I’ll say that I’m glad that spectral evidence is no longer allowed. 

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   We walked to the memorial at the site of the hangings.  Roadside America gives this information about it:  Salem Witches Hanging Site Nineteen people (14 women, five men) were hanged as witches on Gallows Hill during the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 -- and then the town did its best to forget it ever happened. A long overdue memorial was dedicated to the victims on July 19, 2017, the 325th anniversary of the first hangings. Part of the reason it took 325 years to build an execution site memorial was because, until recently, historians couldn't agree on the exact location. By 2016, experts had finally pinpointed a rock outcropping named Proctor's Ledge as the travesty-of-justice-dispensing part of Gallows Hill. Today it overlooks a Walgreens.

   Salem went out of its way to make its memorial as understated as possible...there is plenty of over-the-top witch drama elsewhere in town. It sits at the base of the sloping and neatly landscaped hill, next to the street: a low wall with the names of the nineteen victims etched into it, set around an oak tree, symbolizing strength and endurance. Spotlights illuminate the names at night.

   The actual hanging spot, atop the hill, is inside the fenced back yards of a couple of homes, whose owners may not have been expecting all this attention.

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 Footnote on Giles Corey from Wikipedia:  Giles Corey (c. August 1611 – September 19, 1692) was an English-born American farmer who was accused of witchcraft along with his wife Martha Corey during the Salem witch trials. After being arrested, Corey refused to enter a plea of guilty or not guilty. He was subjected to pressing in an effort to force him to plead—the only example of such a sanction in American history—and died after three days of this torture.  Being pressed to death...it seems a truly barbaric punishment but then again hanging seems over-the-top also.

*Bottom line from today’s visit to Salem:  It was very sobering.  I can’t imagine the horror of the day...people were pointing fingers at others simply to avoid suspicious of themselves so nobody seemed safe, except maybe the magistrates.  The cynic in me wonders if things have really changed that much in that regard.* 

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   Humidity reared its ugly head again today.  Hot ride on the bikes and a hot walk around Salem. 

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   We had 7 o’clock reservations at the No Name Restaurant on Boston’s Fish Pier.  Had it on good authority that a trip to Boston was complete without a visit to the No Name.  It was a busy place...and we all agreed that the food was very good.  More lobster, scallops and shrimp for me.  Now about the name...

   Shortly before the outbreak of the First World War – and a solid year before Harry Frazee sold Babe Ruth to the New York Yankees – Nick Contos debuted a seafood stand on South Boston’s Fish Pier serving fresh catches to fisherman undocking from a long day. Nick didn’t name the place, and that name stuck. “If it works, leave it alone,” he said.  (Found on nonamerestaurant.com)

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Thursday’s miles:  121

Total:   2,157

Wednesday, August 28...The Painter (Neil Young)

Slow start today but we’re all on vacation so what’s the rush? 

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   The day was sunny, maybe in the low 60s, when we headed out for breakfast at Becky’s Diner, located in front of an active fishing area.  By the time we arrived there was about a 20 minute wait, which allowed me to walk down the dock.  Oodles of lobster pots lined up against a building with lobster boats in the water.  I was surprised at how small the boats are.  One boat had two lobster traps in it and there wasn’t much room for anything else.  Where do they store the lobsters they catch?  Obviously there’s more to lobster fishing than meets my eye. 

  There were 3 men out farther on the dock untangling a net.  This wasn’t the first time they had to do this because they were amazingly fast at it.  Stopped to watch and they were polite enough to talk to us while they worked.  The gill net they work with is over 100 yards in length and they run 140 to 150 of them, checking the nets about every 4 days.  Catching monkfish is their objective and one man said they aren’t getting rich doing it, just managing to make a living.  I don’t think that’d be the job for me...I don’t like the smell of fish.  Kim talked technical with them for a few minutes and then we headed back to see if it was time to eat yet. 

   Breakfast at Becky’s was more of a lunch for me since it was about 11:30 by the time we ordered.  The BLT I ordered did not disappoint.

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   Took a tour of the Victoria Mansion which is also known as the Morse-Libby House.  First a little history about it:  It was built in 1858-1860 as a summer home for New Orleans hotelier Ruggles Sylvester Morse and his wife Olive, both of whom were Maine natives.  They lived in the house until 1893 when Ruggles died and Olive sold it, fully furnished, to J.R. Libby who owned a large department store just blocks from the mansion.  The Libby family (they had 5 children) occupied the Mansion for over 30 years without making significant changes to it.  The last of the Libbys moved out in 1928 and the home was repossessed in 1939.  The house was abandoned and there were plans by an oil company to buy it for demolition in order to build a gas station. However, it was bought for back taxes by William Holmes who wanted to preserve it as a museum.  In 1941 he opened it as the Victoria House, named for Queen Victoria, and today it’s on the National Historic Register.

  Now for the interesting details about the house: it was built with all the latest technology of the day and featured gas lights, hot and cold running water, flush toilets, central heat, wall-to-wall carpets and a servant call system.  There is also a Turkish smoking room with an ornate sliding door and it’s believed to be the first example of Islamic architecture in the United States.  It’s also said to be the earliest smoking room in a private home in America. Wonder what they smoked behind those closed doors. 😉

Painted celing

   But I found the most incredible feature of the house to be the walls and ceilings which were painted by Giuseppe Guidicini, an Italian opera set designer.  They were painted in the trompe l’oeil (fool the eye) style.  At first glance it really did appear as though the trim/moldings, chandelier medallions and picture frames were real and stood out from the wall.  It was only upon close inspection that I could see that the surface was totally flat and not 3-D.   True artistry!!   Although every room in the house was painted in this manner it was the dining room ceiling that took it to a different level.  In the dining room, the walls are actually real wood and what appears to be elaborately patterned wood inlay on the ceiling is actually painted plaster!  I took pictures but don’t know that they really do justice to the man’s incredible talent.    There was no information as to why the house was painted in this manner or how long it took but it had to have cost dearly to have it done.   

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  A guide at the Victorian House mentioned that even though he’s lived in Portland his whole life he still needs to use the cheat sheets on some historical details of the House.  Aha! another Maine native....I reached into my purse, grabbed the notebook and showed him ‘the word’.  He looked at it and then quickly pronounced it AND he pronounced all the syllables and didn’t put an ‘m’ in it. When I commented on the ‘m’ issue, he did say that there is a similar looking word that does have an ‘m’ in it...so maybe the others misread my word and were pronouncing the other one.  Anyway, the breakdown of his pronunciation: Pass-a-gas-a-wah-keg.  Say it fast and you’ve got it.👍

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   Then we headed out to the Portland Head Light, a lighthouse on Cape Elizabeth.  Unfortunately there were no tours but we did wander around the area for a bit.  What I thought was graffiti on the rocks actually turned out to be a memorial to the 1886 shipwreck of the Annie C. Maguire.  

  Annie C. Maguire was a British three-masted barque sailing from Buenos Aires, Argentina, on 24 December 1886 when she struck the ledge at Portland Head Light, Cape Elizabeth, Maine. Lighthouse Keeper Joshua Strout, his son, wife, and volunteers rigged an ordinary ladder as a gangplank between the shore and the ledge the ship was heeled against. Captain O'Neil, the ship's master, his wife, two mates, and the nine-man crew clambered onto the ledge and then, one by one, crossed the ladder to safety.

   The cause of the wreck is puzzling since visibility was not a problem. Members of the crew reported they "plainly saw Portland Light before the disaster and are unable to account for same."

   The above is from Wikipedia. However, there is a longer more informational report of the shipwreck on the New England Lighthouses blog at http://nelights.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-eve-at-portland-head-light.html . 

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   Next up was a little shopping and then back to the house.  No hot tub tonight because it started raining and was predicted to last all night.  So we ordered pizza and then played cards.  Now it’s time for bed.

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No miles on the bikes today, but I did get over 7,500 steps on my Fitbit. J

Tuesday, August 27...Eye of the Tiger (Theme song from Rocky)

   Today was moving day.  Left Ellsworth to head to Portland for a couple of nights. We know from the pictures that the driveway will be better. The driveway to the house in Ellsworth was steep, gravel and rutted.  Any one of those is reason for caution but all three?  We stopped on the road to assess the situation and I immediately told Kim that I wasn’t going to do it, would he please ride Zeus up the hill? Yes, he would as soon as he got his bike up there.  That took a little longer than expected because Flame fell over and it took time to right it again.  The trailer lost traction on the gravel at a slow speed and decided not to go forward.  It sort of slipped sideways which stopped the bike and caused it to fall over.  Don’t know what’s worse:  being the one falling off the bike or watching it happen. 😧 That messes with your heartrate for sure.  Grateful that no harm came to Kim or the bike.  Kim drove Zeus up with no problems. 

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   First stop of the day was the Penobscot Narrows Bridge Observatory.  This is what atlasobscura.com has to say about the bridge: While there are innumerable bridges and observation towers scattered around the planet, it’s considerably more rare to witness the combination of these two lovely structures.

   There are only a handful of bridge observatories in the world, and this 2,120-foot-long cable suspension bridge over the Penobscot River (aka “the Narrows”) between Verona Island and Prospect, Maine is home to one of the them. The Penobscot Narrows Bridge and Observatory has the distinction of being the first bridge observation tower in the U.S. as well as the tallest public bridge observatory in the world. 

   The bridge itself is a beautiful sight and worth a stop while driving along Route 1 in itself, and the 420-foot-high observation tower makes it all the better. Taking the elevator up 42 stories to the observation room you’re met with beautiful 360-degree views of the river and bay below, the nearby village of Bucksport, and the historic Fort Knox, which, built in 1844, is one of the best preserved fortifications on the New England seacoast. Some say it’s the best view in Maine.

   We were all enthused about riding to the top to take in the view.  All except Adam...he’s not a fan of heights and wasn’t enthused at all about this part of the adventure.  He was game enough to go to the top with us but kept his eyes closed the entire time we were up there. 

   The elevator goes up 42 floors in 50 seconds...then there are two flights of stairs to climb to the top.  There was a group of kids in before us and some of them were coming down the stairs as we were going up.  Misery must recognize misery because one of the kids said to Adam, “Don’t feel bad...when I was up there I almost puked.” Adam responded along the lines of “Believe it or not, that doesn’t help as much as you might think.”  😏

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   While waiting for the elevator the woman next to me started a conversation by saying, “Oh, I see you’re wearing boots so you must be on those motorcycles out in the parking lot.”   We struck up a conversation...she lives on Cape Cod and I eventually told her the purpose of this trip.  I made the mistake of saying phrase ‘the New England states’ and then mentioned Delaware, New Jersey, New York in the next breath...that’s when she stopped me.  With a smile she said, “Oh, no, they’re not part of New England. We are picky about that and might take offense.”  I hastily explained that I know all nine states aren’t part of the New England region...that I usually say the east coast or northeastern states when talking about this trip.  With another smile, she said, “Yes, east coast is better. That’s an acceptable description.”  Whew!  Glad I got that right...😎 

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  Right near the bridge is Fort Knox, a fort whose history I’m still trying to figure out.  It was definitely interesting in an old army fort kind of way.  I thought it had been an active fort during its heyday but not the case.  Maine.gov tells it this way: The fort garrisoned its first troops from 1863 to 1866. These troops were mostly volunteers undergoing training before being sent to their active posts, and included members of the celebrated 20th Maine. Troops were also briefly stationed at the fort during the Spanish-American war in 1898, but never saw military action.  Emphasis added by me because I find it incredible that a fort was built that wasn’t used for fort-like activities and now it’s a historical spot. Kim asked about the cannons and was told that they had never been fired. 

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   Bristol, Maine is home to the LaVerna Preserve-Hiking Area. The 120-acre preserve features some 3,600 feet of shoreline, 2.5 miles of trails, and a diverse array of wildlife habitat, including mixed hardwoods, coniferous forests, forested wetlands, freshwater marsh, and gently sloping overgrown farmland. (Taken from the brochure).  

   The 1.25 trail is very well maintained with bridges to cross the swampy areas.  The end of the trail was the rocky shoreline of Muscongus Bay, which is really the ocean.  The rocks were very climbable and at the top we were treated to a great view of oh, so many lobster buoys and little islands in the distance.  The rocks themselves were well worth the hike.  The brochure indicated that they were metamorphic rocks.  Had to look that up....americangeosciences.org explains it like this: Metamorphic rocks are rocks that have become changed by intense heat or pressure while forming. In the very hot and pressured conditions deep inside the Earth's crust, both sedimentary and igneous rocks can be changed into metamorphic rock.  Not sure that explains much for me. 😐  It looked like huge sections of layers of sediment near the shoreline were just pushed upward by a giant hand...but not all the way to a vertical position.  The rocks and therefore the layers were slanted which resulted in a very unique look.  There were several opinions among us as to what might have caused it...I personally like the giant hand theory. 😉

  Spent maybe a ½ hour exploring the rocks before we headed back. 

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   The other day we were warned to avoid the town of Wiscasset because there is always a traffic backup in that area.  Well, we didn’t have any traffic issues at all but then we came through at about 8 p.m.  Perhaps that’s the key to a fast sneak through town. 😎

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   We stopped for supper in the little town of Damariscotta at King Eider’s Pub.  It had wonderful crab cakes as advertised.  Could have eaten more than 3 but that was my entrée allotment.  

   It was going on dark when we finished supper.  As Kim and I were gathering the appropriate gear for cooler nighttime riding, I heard a long, low mournful sound.  It took hearing it for a few repetitions but I finally realized it was a fog horn...and as I stood there listening I found it to be a very soothing sound. 

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   We were in the gift shop at the fort and the volunteer mentioned he’d lived in Maine for years.  I pulled out my notebook with ‘the word’ and asked him if he knew how it was pronounced.  He quickly came up with ‘passa-mah-wahm-keg’. When I mentioned that he was the third person to put an ‘m’ in the pronunciation when there wasn’t an ‘m’ in the word, without missing a beat and with a twinkle in his eye, he said that the ‘m’ was silent. Huh?  😏

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Tuesday’s miles: 178   

Total:  2,036 miles

Monday, August 26...Walk This Way (Aerosmith)

Today was a day of sightseeing; however we didn’t have a definite starting time so no alarms were set.  We all wandered downstairs at different times...I was very surprised to see that it was only 7:10 when I crawled out of bed.  Figured it was much later because I’d been aware of sunlight peeking around the curtains for some time before that...forgot that the sun rises early out here.      

   Breakfast was at Jordan’s House in Bar Harbor.  According to the menu, Jordan’s house is known for its wild Blueberry pancakes.  Of course, that was my choice, topped with real Maine maple syrup. Tasty!!  Another popular choice at our table was the lobster and asparagus quiche...quite tasty based on the taste I had of Kim’s.

   Then we wandered around town, doing our part in helping the local economy.  Eventually we ended at the harbor...tide was out so we explored the beach.  I found the seaweed covered rocks to be fascinating.  The seaweed attached itself to the rocks, almost like it was growing on it.  It had little smell, a waxy feel, little bulbs and was somewhat of a greenish brown color...more like kelp than the stringy green seaweed with which I’m familiar.   Time for a Google search.   The site at extension.unmaine.edu describes it this way: Ascophyllum nodosum, more commonly called Rockweed, is a species of brown algae or seaweed that is found along the New England coast. It grows on available hard surfaces, including rocks, shells, and dock pilings.  If the description wasn’t enough to convince me the pictures posted on the site were the clincher.  Rockweed it is.

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   After we were through wandering, we continued onto Acadia National Park which is located on Mt Desert Island.  We made several stops...Sand Beach, Thunder Hole, Jordan’s Pond and Cadillac Mountain. 

   Sand Beach was a popular spot; parking overflowed onto the road.  As the name indicates it was a sandy beach and lots of people were enjoying the opportunity to walk the beach, play in the sand or swim in the cool water.  Some people even braved climbing up high on the rocks...not sure that was the safest idea but they didn’t ask me for permission.  If they had I would have told them ‘bad idea’.  I could tell the tide was rising even in the short time we were there. I wrote in the wet sand in an area that the advancing water didn’t quite reach...by the time we were ready to leave, the water had risen to erase my writing. 

   Thunder Hole is the place in Acadia National Park to experience the thunder of the sea against the rocky shores of Maine! On calm days you may wonder what the fuss is all about. But wait until the waves kick up a few notches. Thunder Hole is a small inlet, naturally carved out of the rocks, where the waves roll into. At the end of this inlet, down low, is a small cavern where, when the rush of the wave arrives, air and water is forced out like a clap of distant thunder. Water may spout as high as 40 feet with a thunderous roar! Hence the name: Thunder Hole. (copied from the site acadiamagic.com)  The water wasn’t spouting up to 40 feet yet but it was giving all the spectators a good show.  Tide was still rising and it appeared that it would be foolish to be lined along the viewing sidewalk when the tide was at its maximum.  In fact, don’t know that you could since it appeared there was a gate at the beginning of the sidewalk.  We were able to experience the thunder just fine at mid-tide.

   Jordan’s Pond is one of two good sized lakes located along the driving loop.  It was time for a hike. We started out thinking the hike was only about 2 miles...as it went on and on we started suspecting that was wrong.  Found out later that the trail around the lake is listed as 3.5 miles. Encountered lots of people wearing a variety of footwear for what they may have assumed was a short walk.  For the most part it was a level well-worn trail.  There were a couple of sections of scrambling over and through huge boulders and then there was the detour but other than that it was fairly smooth walking.  A boardwalk was being constructed and at one point we had detour into the trees following orange ribbons....maybe a ¼ mile or so walk around.  The detour brought us right back to another section of boardwalk which given all the options was my favorite walking surface. We were all ready for water, a snack and time off our feet by the time we were done.

   Cadillac Mountain at 1,530 feet, is the tallest mountain on Mount Desert Island and the highest point along the North Atlantic seaboard. From October 7 through March 6 of each year, it is the first place to view a sunrise in the United States. (copied from the site acadia.ws) 

   Although there are hiking trails to the top of the mountain, we drove.  The walk around Jordan’s Pond was enough walking for all of us for one day.  The view from the top of the mountain was spectacular and gave a different perspective to the surrounding area.  

   At Bar Harbor I saw what I thought was the shoreline of the mainland across the way.  From atop Cadillac Mountain I could see that what I thought was mainland was actually several islands out beyond the harbor in Bar Harbor.  Collectively those islands are known as the Porcupine Islands with each having its own porcupine name.  

   The view was well worth the effort of making my tired legs do some more minor walking. 😎

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   Grabbed supper at Smokey’s BBQ and Lobster on the way back to the house.  Since I couldn’t get the waiter to indicate how big a 1.5 lb lobster is...you know by spreading his hands to give me a general idea of the physical size... I ordered another lobster roll. 

   The history as written on the menu....Thank you for dining at Smokey’s!  In 2017, three “young” local men with years of experience in the food service industry scraped our pennies together to open a restaurant.  We ended up find the structurally questionable shack you see here and set about fixing it up (I promise you it was in worse condition before.)  The place was last occupied by “Big Pete” Pearson, an internationally acclaimed blues players mostly unrecognized in the United States who left the property to go on tour in Europe.  A variety of other ventures have been through this building, including a somewhat disreputable local watering hole and a flower shop.  We pay respect to the history of this dilapidated building with our dedication to serving high quality food in a fun, relaxed atmosphere with good beer and good music.  You bring the good company!

   The food was good, the music was good and the company was good.  👍

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   I wrote Passagassawakeag River in my notebook and throughout the day managed to show it to two lifelong Mainers.  They each stumbled over it at first but then both put an ‘m’ sound in their final pronunciation.  Hmmm...  One even laughed at it and said that based on the first 10 letters there is a local joke about it.  But neither gave me a strong confidant pronunciation.  We’ll be in Maine for the next two days...I have time to find out how to pronounce it.  I met the neighbor today...maybe I’ll see him again tomorrow and can ask his opinion.  😊

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No miles on the bike today...but lots steps on my Fitbit. 😏

Sunday, August 25...Draw Me A Map (Dierks Bentley)

   Projected mileage from home to Ellsworth, Maine, was less than 1,550 miles.  Daily quota of 225 miles to make it in a week.  Well, we’ve ridden more than 225 miles a day (with the exception of Friday) and more than the projected 1,550 miles total and it still took us a full week to get here. 

   I did adjust the daily route a time or two but made sure to keep all adjustments within a decent range of Rapunzel’s desired route.  Some of the daily miles weren’t taking us toward our end goal...trips to grocery/hardware stores and side trips to just see the sights all factor into the daily and total mileage counts.  We took a day of rest staying in the Boston/Cape Cod KOA for two nights so that plays into the timing.  And the bottom line is that this is a Kim n Karen adventure...things happen. 

   But we’re within hours of reaching our destination of Ellsworth, Maine...right on time, just a week after leaving Ellsworth, Michigan. 👍

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   The humidity is gone!  It was there Thursday night, the rains came and the temperature dropped to the high 70s/low 80s and it hasn’t been sweat dripping humid since.  I have no clue what the weather is typically like along the east coast but I do know that traveling through Pennsylvania, Delaware, New Jersey and Connecticut during the 3^rd week of August 2019 was brutal.  Temperatures were hitting in the low 90s, sweat dripped at the slightest exertion and everything felt damp all the time.  But all that changed overnight.

   High temperature has been in the high 70s since Friday morning...don’t know what the lows have been because they’ve been happening at night when I’m sleeping.  Yesterday was a day of firsts on this trip:  we both reached for a jacket while riding, I didn’t change into shorts as soon as we reached camp and we had a campfire going.  Oh, and it was the first time I pulled out the flannel sheets for the mattress.  I packed them anticipating that we might encounter some chilly nights and it was just the thing to chase away the chill last night.  Well, that plus using both blankets and snuggling close.  😊

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   We were on a slight slant again last night despite trying to avoid that very thing.  This time it was a side slant...in that my side was on the high end and Kim’s was on the low end.  It wasn’t drastic but it was enough for me to roll a bit downward to crowd Kim to the edge.  Oops!

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   Time to pack up and get on the road.  I’d like to ride along the coast up to Ellsworth and according to Rapunzel that’s not the fastest route but I bet it’ll be prettier.👍

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    Met our camping neighbors as we were packing...Mike and Kathy from Maine.  Loved hearing them talk because of that wicked ‘r’ pronunciation the New Englanders have.  We talked about music, concerts we’ve been to and then covered the ‘where are you from and where are you going’ topic.  Being from Maine they had lots of insight to give us, especially when they heard we wanted to ride Highway 1 up the coast. 

   We went back to packing and soon Mike came back out of the trailer, walked to his car and brought out a Rand McNally Atlas of Maine.  Be still my heart...the man has a paper map.  Yes!! 😎 As he held up the book with an apologetic grin he said, “I’m old fashioned this way.”  I said that I totally understand, that I have a love/hate relationship with the GPS but it’s what works best to guide us while riding.  Anyway I mentioned the route we’d probably take from Naples to the coast and he opened the atlas to the page so I could look it over.  We programmed Rapunzel to take us to Camden, grateful for the advice on what sections to avoid because of continual traffic snarls. 

   We left camp at noon hoping to arrive in Ellsworth by 4:30 at the latest.

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   Highway 1 is definitely not the road less traveled even though it is off the highway.  It is very well traveled by lots of people also wanting to ride along the coast.  Not really much stop and go traffic today...just slow at times.  I’d like to thank Mike for his advice on that one. 

   Stopped at McLaughlin’s Lobster Shack in Lincolnville where I had a lobster roll and Kim had a seafood basket.  Think pieces of lobster on a tasty hot dog type bun and you have a lobster roll.  Add fries and coleslaw and you have right tasty meal.  The basket combo that Kim ordered had scallops, clams, oysters and cod or haddock.  He gave his meal a thumbs up also. 

   McLaughlin’s is right on the waterfront so the view at lunch was great.  Lots of boats anchored and we saw the car ferry take off for a bit of land in the distance.  I checked Rapunzel and the land appears to be an island called Islesboro.  Just a point of information.

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   We cruised into Ellsworth at about 6:30 p.m....a bit more than a 4 hour cruise but on par for us.  Adam and Co. flew out of Detroit early this morning and got into Boston at about 7:30 a.m.  They rented a vehicle and stopped at several places along the way to Ellsworth, arriving about 5:40 p.m.  We were already in Maine and they still made it here before us. 😏

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   Maine’s exit numbers correspond to the mile markers so it feels a bit like home that way. 

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   I realized today that we’ve ridden Highway 1 out on the west coast and now have ridden Highway 1 on the east coast.  I feel so accomplished.

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   We are definitely in the Land of Unpronounceable Words. Some city names, mostly river names.   I usually run them around in my head to see if my Midwestern brain can come up with a pronunciation...sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.  Sometimes I have to ask random people. 

   Today I came across one of the longest most confounding words yet and I haven’t had to opportunity to ask a local how to pronounce it but I intend to.  We crossed a bridge today in Belfast, Maine.  The view of the harbor which included a separate pedestrian bridge was absolutely picturesque.  The bridge spanned the Passagassawakeag River.

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   Chigger update:  It’s been over two days since the onset of itching. Most sites indicated that the itching lasts 1-2 days.  Maybe for some but not for me. My thighs are much better but my lower legs/ankles are still somewhat of an issue. That’s somewhat disappointing because I was hoping to be done with it by now.  Maybe things will improve tomorrow as it’s a day off from jeans, socks and boots....shorts and sandals will leave the affected spots exposed and maybe the spots will dry up or whatever they need to do to heal.

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Sunday’s miles: 155

Total:  1,858    

Saturday, August 24....I Hope I Never Lose My Wallet (Mighty Mighty Bosstones)

   Wow! That movie seemed to energize everyone in this part of the camp.   It got over shortly after 10 p.m....people went away, then people came back out again.  Can’t speak to what the atmosphere was like at the front of the campground but heading on 11 o’clock, kids were still out on scooters and bikes and the adults were either building campfires or adding logs so they could sit into the night talking.  A much different atmosphere on Friday night than on Thursday night.  I witnessed all that going on because I was at the pavilion posting pictures, etc. 

   Most of the activity quieted down by 11:30 except for one group of RVers.  There was a lady over there who had a raucous laugh and she wasn’t afraid to use it.  I can’t fault her on that one. 😄  Their voices continued to pierce through the darkness.  We were sitting in the pavilion and close enough to hear the building effects of the alcohol. When we walked back to our tent and were inside, Kim quietly said, “And now she’s progressed into the argumentative stage of drunkenness.”  Sure enough when I paid attention the slurred voice that had some humor in it now had an edge.  And when we made a final trip to the bathroom the discussion around the campfire had ramped up to ‘you don’t know what’s it like...I’m on call all the time for her...I have to go whenever she calls...I’m the only one who blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, etc.  There was a male voice giving some pushback which only drove her to be louder.  By this time the rest of the area was quiet.

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   *At our stay in Pennsylvania, there was a group campfire happening between our campsite and the bathroom.  They were talking and laughing, no problem.  Then a man’s voice rings out from somewhere nearby saying, “Asshole...you’re an asshole.”  A woman then responded, “I hate you...I never want to see you again.”  “Good” was his reply before slamming a car door.

   *At our stay in Delaware, there was a family across the road from our yurt.  At one point the dad got angry at the kids and his disapproving voice rang through the night air.  

   *At our stay in Connecticut there was a couple having a good time singing along with Motown hits...mostly love songs.  The fact that they would only play about 20 seconds of a song before finding another one was a little annoying but they were having a good time with it.  They were singing when I got in the shower and when I got out I hear the man standing out the trailer loudly saying “What the hell?  What did you do? The door won’t open.”  The woman loudly responded to him from inside the trailer trying to explain the hardship of closing the door properly.

   *Then there was the loud group from last night.

   Throughout this week of camping I’ve become aware of just how much the great outdoors can amplify a voice...and it seems that some people haven’t realized that yet or maybe simply don’t care.  Alcohol doesn’t help either.

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   Last night it got a bit cool...my feet were chilly throughout the night and they kept gravitating toward Kim to steal his warmth.  He didn’t seem to mind.😊

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   A big group of tenters came in last night while we were on our ride.  Since we got back after dark I didn’t see them snugged in across the road until this morning.  There are kids of all ages on bikes coming and going from that area.  I’m envisioning a family reunion camping trip.    

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   This morning I saw families gathering over by the dog area...then we heard a clanging bell and the kids started squealing.  Trolley time!!  And judging by the gathering crowd, this is a big deal.  Between Friday night movies and Saturday morning trolley rides this campground aims to please and it is definitely going to get good reviews on social media.  There’s also camp sponsored craft time...today is rock painting.  If we were going to be around, I’d be joining in for that.  😎

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   Checkout time is 11 and we were hustling to get packed up.  There’s an order to taking camp down...fold the linens, deflate and fold the air mattress, empty the tent, and finally fold the tent.  Because of the weight distribution issue the trailer can’t be packed until the tent is ready to go in.  It’s the heaviest of the gear so it’s put in the front, then the air mattress behind it and then Kim packs the remaining gear in the available space.  He was especially pleased with his packing job today....and I agree it was amazing how everything fit just right.  Tick would have been envious. 😉

   A few more things to put on the bikes and we’re ready to go.  Suddenly Kim says, “I don’t know where my wallet is.  I had it stored in a wall pocket in the tent.  I hope I didn’t leave it there.”  Oh, shit! 

   We searched his bike before we turned to the trailer.  The air mattress is my domain and I knew it wasn’t in there so we left that alone.  We looked through the trailer thoroughly before reluctantly taking the tent out.  Neither of us wanted to undo it but since the wallet wasn’t anywhere else, it was probably still in the tent pocket.  Unbelievably it was not in the tent.  Oh, shit!!

   I asked the craft ladies over by the pavilion about it...no, they hadn’t found a wallet.   Kim then walked up to the office to see if it was turned in up there.  While he was gone, I went through everything again....every nook and cranny on his bike, the tent, the trailer...I even felt around the air mattress.  Searched the ground between the bikes and the tent area...even looked back where Kim had gone to relieve himself in the bushes.  Nothing.  Kim came back shaking his head...it hadn’t been turned in.  Oh, shit!!

   I walked one more time over to the pavilion area to check on top of the outlets, the electrical box, the grass around it, etc.  As I’m walking back looking at the strewn out mess we’d made of our belongings, the anxiety I’d been feeling was ramping up, turning into panic.  Where could it be?  We’ve checked everything at least twice. He can’t ride without a license. He had the credit card but no money but it’s the license that’s the issue. Oh, come on! Where could it be? Okay...okay...calm down...think.  Remember when the boys would lose something and then come to you saying that they’d looked everywhere they thought it could be? You’d tell them to start looking at the places they didn’t think it could be. So where...? 

  Putting that into play I realized the only place we hadn’t looked was my bike. Kim doesn’t put his stuff in my bike but I didn’t want to leave any stone unturned and as silly as it seemed, it was also the prudent thing to do.  I’d already taken everything out of the driver side saddle bag earlier looking for my transponder...no wallet in that bag so I now started with the passenger side bag.  Opened it and picked up Kim’s folded vest...and found his wallet in a pocket.  Well, shit! Look what I found, Kim! J

  How it happened:  The day was getting warmer and Kim wasn’t going to wear his vest but it didn’t fit real well in his already full saddlebags.  Mine was almost empty so we put it in there.  Five minutes later when he discovered the missing wallet both of us had already forgotten about moving the vest from his bike to my bike.  Doh!!

    After all was said and done, Kim said, “The thing I really regret is messing up my masterful packing job.” 😏 

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   Needless to say we didn’t make the 11 a.m. checkout time, but due to the circumstances we weren’t charged a late checkout fee.  Once the wallet was found and the trailer repacked, we left about 12:30.  Since the speed limit at campgrounds is 5 mph we made a very slow exit.  You’d have thought we were a parade by the way small children stood by the edge of the road waving.  Dads, too....dads were waving also.  It was a fun way to leave. 😀

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   The coastal Maine KOAs had no availability for tents or cabins for tonight so I had to look a little farther north.  First had to check the map to get a feel for how far it was from where we were, then checked availability at the campground...then check map again to see how far we’d have to ride tomorrow.  Finally made reservations at the Naples KOA in Naples, Maine, which is little more than halfway to our ultimate destination of Ellsworth, ME. 

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   Check New Hampshire and Maine off the list...only one state left. This coming week will be spent in states we’ve already visited so we’ll get Vermont on the way home.👍

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   Traffic wasn’t too crazy, a couple of slowdowns but nothing horrible.  There was this one thing, though.  We came up behind a SUV with 2 bikes on a rear bike rack.  However, the bike rack had tilted outward and the bikes were tangled sideways and looked to be in danger of falling off.  Not good to be behind the vehicle when that happened.  So Kim pulls alongside the vehicle to alert the driver to what’s happening on his back bumper.  Despite Kim’s best efforts, the man wouldn’t look, wouldn’t even acknowledge that there was someone beside him beeping his horn and gesturing to the back of his vehicle.  Kim rode on muttering about what a fool the guy was.  I pulled up and also tried to get his attention but his eyes never wavered from looking straight ahead.  He rode with his bikes hanging like that for miles.  First, I hope those bikes didn’t fall; second, I hope he felt like a real idiot when he finally saw what was happening and realized why we were trying to get his attention. Kim said he couldn’t believe that the man was so scared of us that he wouldn’t even glance our way to see that we were warning him about his bikes. Now that I think of it that took some kind of concentration not to look out the window.  Don’t know that I could do that...I’d have to see what the commotion was about.

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   The ride to camp was uneventful except for the missed turn which resulted in a very scenic back road drive.  Bonus that we stumbled across a grocery store where we picked up some needed items. 

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  When we checked in there was a band playing cover songs somewhere nearby...maybe somewhere in the campground, maybe not.  We’d made a campfire and it was nice to sit and listen to the music.  At 11 p.m. it abruptly came to a halt.  Then there was just the noise of the frogs, crickets and such.  Then there was the distance howl of a coyote.  That’s when it got creepy. 😧

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Saturday’s miles: 193

Total: 1,703 miles