White Mountain National Forest, NH to Bar Harbor, ME
A morning fog lay over the land. Looked like smoke coming off the lake. Quite beautiful. In almost no time, I entered Maine! I got a pastry at a nifty local gas station and a sub sandwich and bad coffee at another. I drove almost entirely along Route 2 with the logging trucks while listening to a mediocre radio station called "92 Moose" that actually played the Star Spangled Banner at noon, but for my 80s nolstagia amusement, played "Send Me An Angel". Though the name, and jingles, of 92 Moose were what made it fun to listen to. I wish I had taken a photo when I passed the town of Mexico. Seeing the sign "Welcome to Mexico" in northern Maine was quite amusing.
As I drove, I started to get a picture of your average small New England town in October. Common features include:
Also, there was a lot of "Bridge Work" signs. Does Maine have bad teeth? (Ba-dum tish)
I turned south at Bangor. The road got much hillier and prettier after that. (Route 2, although nice enough, wasn't all that impressive, sightseeing wise.) Then I passed the Maine Lumberjack Show entrance and finally arrived at the Acadia National Park entrance. I stopped at the information center, which I only do occassionally, but I was glad I did. Not only did I avoid any line in buying the $20 week pass, the very friendly woman at the counter gave me a whole suggested itinerary of what to see over the next couple days AND told me about the cheapest place in Bar Harbor (and, more importantly, gave me the confidence that it was not a dump.) Yay for Robbins Motel. Yes, it looked like it was the cheapest motel in Bar Harbor (kinda looked like it was built the way they built mobile homes), but it was clean and the bathroom looked new. They cut corners in all the right places.
Bar Harbor is very cute. So clean and colorful, it is almost too cute. A picteresque, perfect little town on the harbor. With a strong Moose theme. For dinner, I went big and had bouillabaise for the first time. Delicious. (I never eat fish unless I'm near a coast, and this strategy seems to work for me.) It was on special at the Portside Grill. I didn't want to wait, so I sat at the bar, but got great service, as I have pretty much everywhere in New England.
And the cheapest motel has Wi-Fi! Only one signal bar on my iTouch, but good enough. Email, facebook addiction, yay. But I still have not managed to locate a pen...
After having one of the last of five bagels available across the street (it was only 9:30am!) at Bay-Gulls, I drove to the entrance and started up the Park Loop Road. The first three pull-out overlooks were too full of cars for me to park. The only one that had space (right before the entrance kiosk) had a ginormous parking lot and a mediocre view. Oh, well. Sand Beach (my destination) also had a full parking lot. However, the next parking lot up (a small turn off to the right) had plenty of parking and it was in the shade - bonus.
I scrambled around on the sandstone rocks between Sand Beach and ThunderHole (and I think I even heard the "thunder" over the tourists) watching the tide come in. Then I walked to the trailhead of a hike the lady recommended and my favorite hike of the trip once I found the trailhead - Gorham Mountain. Gorgeous, quiet, and beautiful near-360 views. Along the trail were plenty of rock piles and blue stripes of paint to guide the way. There were also many signs asking you to please not build any more rock piles. I'm not sure why anyone would take the time to build rock piles unless the trail was ambiguous. But I will say something: the trail was very ambiguous and I didn't get lost once.
After I hiked back down to my car, I drove further down the loop to Jordan Pond, where I enjoyed a delicious cup of the Jordan Pond House Blend tea and bought some souvenirs. Then I took a picture of the pond itself (a man nearby guessed the time to the minute "3:52"! which I confirmed to the amusement/consternation of his wife) and took off along one of the Carriage Trails. The Carriage Trails are really meant for bikes (well, they were originally meant for carraiges of course, wise guy) so why don't they have a bike rental at Jordan Pond?? You can rent them in Bar Harbor easily enough, but still, why not here? I walked along one anyway and it was nice. I enjoyed more views of the pond, some very lovely stone bridges, and got to feel like I was at the bottom of a rockslide. I realized too late that I left my map in the car, so I had to wing it. Mileage on the signs would definitely have been nice, but I made it back to the car before dark...
That night I had a cheap dinner at Tamarind, which doubles as a Natural Food Store. I looked it up later and it got rated an appalling #115 out of #115 restaurants in Bar Harbor on tripadvisor.com. It certainly wasn't impressive, but it was fine. And I ate dinner on their couch (not sure if they minded) while I read an article in the Wired magazine that was sitting on the table that showed what the inside of the cockpits of various planes and ships looked like. Then I had ice cream at one of the three or four ice cream shops on the main street. I think I may have finally heard the New England accent for the first time! Or it might have been Swedish. The two girls pronounced "thirty" as "turdy".
Then, I took a drive through Acadia to get to the Lighthouse to the south. This may have been because I was grumpy, but I thought it was lame and a waste of time. Even if I hadn't taken a wrong turn and got lost on my way there, even if I hadn't had to park on the street (parking lot was tiny and full) and even if the restrooms had running water (granted, they were about as nice as drop toilets get) it still was lame. First off, the lighthouse was only about two or three stories tall. Unimpressive and tiny. The majority of the area around it was sealed off. (I guess the house the light house attached to is a Coast Guard family's house so they wanted a bit o' privacy, which is all fine, but it was not very welcoming.) Secondly, you could not get a decent photo of it if you tried. If you walked down the concrete steps down to the concrete railing and leaned out at the corner, maybe you could get one shot, but there were so many tourists there (why?), I didn't bother to try. I think I saw a path going off in the other direction that might have led somewhere interesting, but I didn't look. (I had already hiked down a path a few miles back to try to get a look from afar, but nothin'.) The lady at the information center had recommended this lighthouse. She's a 2 for 4 at this point. The road that leads to Acadia island from the mainland has a RESTAURANT with a much more interesting lighthouse on the side than this.
Disappointed, I drove all the way back to Bar Harbor (behind the slowest drivers ever) and managed to get lost since I thought I was pointed in one direction and I was pointed in another. I turned on a sort-of-familiar sounding street, got lost in neghborhoods and made it back out. After a bit of driving I realized I had being going back to Acadia National Park and turned around again. When I consulted a map a few hours later, I realized that if I had stayed on the road I was on, I would have made it directly onto Main Street. D'oh.
I found amazingly good parking (and did an amazingly good parallel parking job), almost on the Harbor, and walked around, wondering what to do to kill time. It was pretty rainy outside and I didn't feel like tackling any trails of the Park Loop road that I missed the first time. Then I found my favorite place in Bar Harbor.
I had first noticed this place because of a surprising sign on their door. "You are welcome to use our restrooms." And, indeed, that sign is what compelled me to go in. This place, called "The Opera House Internet Cafe" was such a welcoming, comfortable place to walk into and I can't even put my finger on why. I first went to the back to use the restrooms. They had another sign in the very nice, homey restroom that said something to the effect of "Although these restrooms are open to the public, they are not city-maintained public restrooms. We pay for the water, toilet paper, and maintenace. Please help by leaving a donation." I left a quarter in the giant silver jug in the hall. Then I went back to the "self-serve pastry" area, got myself something with chocolate, then got a chai from the front. I sat down to eat and look at maps and tour books (and listen to the decent music playing - they played that new Ray LaMontagne song I like "Beg, Steal or Borrow". None of the radio stations in Acadia play decent music that I could find. I felt like the "scan" button on my car has been scanning more often than stopping.) I more or less figured out my path to Massachusettes the next day.
I have seen a lot of improv shows, both college students, professionals, and one troupe a couple years ago that improv-ed a Shakespeare play in iambic pentameter. I've never not enjoyed an improv show and this was no exception. Though this was the first time they actually had us practice yelling things out. The three performers and one musician were extremely talented. Between accents, characters, coming up with silly situations, and flawlessly switching roles, the troupe knew their stuff. There were references to parrots and Two Cats (now I wish I had waited in line for their breakfast after all). My only complaint was that it was a short show.
Since this is my last day in Maine, here's some random observations:
Funny signs (or, signs that are kind of funny if you add my trying-to-be-snarky comment):
At the very bottom of the above map is Nantucket! Ah, so THAT's where all those men came from. Anyway, I drove all day today. My estimates - with the help of the map - were surprisingly close. It took about 8.5 hours. I mostly took Highway 1, both because it was closer at first and because it would have more scenery and "real Maine" than the interstate. No sooner had I finally decided that the speed was worth it, that I-95 turned into a Toll Road.
When I realized it was a toll road, I noticed I had a total of $1.50 left in cash and I had two thoughts. One: I've spent my entirely adult driving life in the west. The only toll road in the Denver area is one that shortcuts to the airport. It's very expensve ($2.50 per toll.) However, I've been to New Jersey often on vacation, and, although my folks are the ones usually doing the driving, it seems like the average toll is more like 50 cents. I figured the toll roads in Maine would be more like the latter, so I guessed $1.50 would be enough for a short stretch.
Wrong. The first toll was $1.00. The second was $2.00. I did not have the cash for that, but I was already pulled up at the booth and it was too late. I now discovered that toll booths do not take credit cards. But, oddly, they do take checks. I happened to have my checkbook with me, so I wrote a check to "Maine Turnpike" for $2. Not sure what would have happened if I did not have a check... would they have billed the rent-a-car place who would have billed me (and maybe with an extra fee)? I couldn't find a clear answer on the internet.
I got off at the exit labeled "last exit before toll" and continued, after getting lost for a bit, on toll-free Highway 1 instead. I got the impression in many of the towns I drove through that they were not built to handle this much traffic.
The foliage was gone for the most part by Massachusettes. Then I got near Boston. Good news: good music! Bad news: I arrived right at 5pm, just in time for rush hour. Wish I had a photo, it was classic, four lanes on I-95 backed up in either direction. I kind of wanted it to fully stop, so I could double check my directions. Drivers with Massachusettes license plates seemed fast... was that because Massachusettes drivers are, what I've heard from a couple different people, "Massholes"? Nah... At any rate, I made it to my sister's house safely!
Another perfect weather day (very much lucked out on the weather.) I spent the morning wandering around the cute little town of Fairhaven, across the bridge from New Bedford, taking pictures of the pretty churches, nifty architecture and checking out Fort Phoenix on the coast and walking as far as I could down the "Hurricane" block stone wall. Lots of friendly people were about and the little bit of a beach there had more shells than sand, pretty impressive. Then the gang came back - daycare and work over - and we took a drive to windy "West Island". West Island is a pretty beach where the waves run up gently upon the shore (depositing a fair bit of seaweed as well.) My 3-year old nephew and 1-year old niece had a blast, running back and forth and picking up cool rocks. After the kids went to bed, me and the sister ate chocolate, drank red wine, and talked about relationships. Are we in a romantic comedy?
The next morning, I made some breakfast and played with the kidlets then later, we went to Alderbook Farms. Great place for a kid. Lots of goats, chickens, and pigs to look at (and a donkey to pet!) and a playset at the top of the hill. Christian had his own mental map of where the boundaries of Alderbrook Farms were and led me right off the property twice, heh. We then had lunch at a cute cafe where I ate an asparagus sandwich - a concept I don't think I would have even thought of. It was tasty, but the asparagus shoots were not so keen on staying within the confines of the sandwich. Lots of surprisingy tasty desserts were also there, including a peanut butter and nutella "flauta". Back at the house, we played hide-and-seek, but we soon had some very tired kids, so put them to bed and watched Better Off Ted on Netflix. Slightly less like a romantic comedy.
The next day, I had a whole elaborate plan to drive to Newport, RI, do the cliff walk, and end up at my uncle's house in CT. Instead, I was tired. So tired that I kept laying down. And the more I laid down, the less I wanted to get up again. Yep, I was sick. Laura took care of me, but I could only manage a bite of applesauce for dinner and slept the rest of the day and right on through the night, and a bit of the next day as well.
In the afternoon, I was feeling better. I played with Christian, who liked to pull down my back seat, climb into the trunk (then ask me to close up the back seat behind him! I never closed it all the way) and use the trunk tab to get himself out of the trunk. Rent-a-cars provide hours of entertainment for 3-year-olds apparently. But only if you have a car with a trunk that you can open from the inside. I realized that all members of my family were back east today, when only 2 out of 5 actually live there. I finally left that evening and drove the complicated route back to Hartford, only getting lost once (and realizing, as I drove on the dark highways, that I was not completely over my cold). I'm deciding that it doesn't count as going to Rhode Island if I only drove through Rhode Island at night, so that will still be on my states-to-see list.
I had been unable to check into my Southwest flight online, which was sort of annoying since you get a better spot in line if you check in earlier. I had been also unable to check into Motel 6 online (and when I called, it sounded like I had reached a party and the lady on the phone said, upon asking if I could make a reservation, "Yeah, yeah, come on by!") So I arrived in Hartford without much confidence. But Motel 6 did have a Non-Smoking room available. I thought I would be clever and return my car early since it was across the street. However, my flight was so early that Enterprise wouldn't be open yet and I would have to use another service which probably would not give me free shuttle service to the airport without returning a car. Sigh. Oh, well. Oh the bright side, I actually managed to re-pack all the extra stuff I accumulated into one bag.
Luckily, returning the car at this other Not Confidence Inspiring Looking place turned out to be no problem at all and I got right on the Airport Shuttle, arriving at the airport with plenty of time. Only, when I got to the check-in counter at the airport and checked my bag, the lady did not give me a boarding pass. It said something like "Security Pass" and she told me I'd have to go get my boarding pass at the gate (or a nearby gate, whichever was open this early in the morning.)
I figured by then I'd been selected for "extra security screening." Not a problem, really, since I almost never get chosen for this sort of thing. The security people told me to put my bags in one place then sort of cut in line to go through the metal detector in the other. A little weird (and I HATE walking around the airport in my socks) but no problem. They put me in the Glass Booth. And the other lady in there with me was in such a panicked hurry that when the security lady finally came in, I let her go first since I had plenty of time. When it was my turn, the lady said, "I suppose they told you that the airline selected you for special screening?" I said, "No, but that's what I figured." So after all that, she just gave me a quick pat down and I picked up my items on the other side and a guy signed and punched me security boarding pass. All fine.
My gate, Gate 2, was not open yet (I think it was about 6:30am at this point) but there was a sign saying to go to Gate 4. I waited until the last few people had boarded on Gate 4, then handed the lady my Security Pass. She was a little harried, but nice enough, and handed me my boarding pass. I was disappointed that I ended up at C-19. (*Note: if you have never flown Southwest, they do not have assigned seating, they give you a place in line depending on when you checked in (or if you paid extra). A, B, or C and numbered 1-60. Then you choose whatever seat you want. If you are in the As or early Bs, you'll probably get a decent seat.) I figured if they were going to make me go through the hassle of extra security, not even allowing me to check in online 24 hours in advance, they'd at least give me a decent seat in return. Nope.
So I waited and waited until C was finally boarding. I was among the last 10 people getting on. Not a huge deal since I was by myself anyway and am pretty short, so not the end of the world sitting in a middle seat. But right after I had handed the guy my boarding pass and started walking down the breezeway, he called me back. He said, "You have to go through extra security screening." I said, "Again?" He said that the ticket had not been signed or punched. (My "Security Pass" had been, but I had given that to the lady at Gate 4.) There happened to be a uniformed, but off-duty TSA agent seeing someone else off on the same flight, so the guy asked him to escort me back to the security gate. Very luckily, Hartford is not like Denver or many other major airports. The security screening was not all that far away, but still the fact that by now, everyone else had boarded the plane was worrisome. How long were they going to wait for me? So, the TSA guy sort of grumpily explained really quick what happened to some guy at a high desk. Then we all went to the security checkpoint. Thank God one of the security guys actually recognized me. I told him that my Security Pass had been signed and punched, but that I had to exchange it for a boarding pass. He told me the Security Pass WAS a boarding pass (um, no, it even said ON the Security Pass "THIS IS NOT A BOARDING PASS".) But he was cool and he told them to punch and sign my boarding pass anyway since he clearly remembered me coming through. So they did and I jogged back to the gate. Luckily, the guy was waiting for me. (Though I still wonder how long he would have waited.) I got a middle seat, but close to the front which to me is almost as important. The flight was about the smoothest flight I've ever been on, ever, and for a flight that has to land in bumpy-air Denver, that's saying something.
