Exploring Acadia National Park and Bar Harbor, Maine

We've already made three visits to Acadia National Park, and we'll probably visit a bit more if we can fit it in before leaving the area- headed to Canada for 5 weeks. I made a conscious decision NOT to try to show you and tell you all about Acadia. Better you should click on the link above and see more about that park there. While it is one of the smallest of the National Parks, it is one of the most "inclusive" as far as things to do and see. There is more natural wonder packed into Mt. Desert Island than almost any place I can think of. It puts the "grand" in grandeur! perhaps the best long distance view on the East Coast of the United States. It's been a fog drenched week for us, so the dimensionality of the photos will seem limited. But, "On a clear day you CAN see forever...."

The best thing I could get a picture of at the summit was the summit sign itself. While we had pretty good views and vistas on the way up, the top was socked in big time. At least it's a really nice sign!

The island contains the only fjord on the East Coast and one of only a tiny few in the lower 48. Because of photographic conditions, I'm including a look at the fjord from the park model at the visitor's center. We have been fortunate to have seen it previously many times on a clear day, and also to have seen it from the water as we boated from Rockland to this area on several occasions.

There were a few moments of "clarity" along Somes Sound, so I took this photo of our little rig- looking very much like we found a nice bonsai tree to throw in the back seat and bring home. Not so!

Even in the fog and haze, this is a beautiful place. The obvious thing about the image below is the color of the granite which forms most of the island- it is pink. But you will have to look more closely if you wish to see what's going on with the vegetation. Much of the island and much of Cadillac Mountain is covered with low bush blueberries. One hiker recounted the dilemma of whether to keep hiking or to keep stopping to pick and eat blueberries.
The berries are nearly everywhere!

Above you saw granite at the top of the mountain. Same pink granite down here where the mountain meets the sea.

And on the pink granite grows a flurry of lichen and various mosses...

Even with three visits to our favorite spot- Thunder Hole- we failed to catch the proper mix of tidal position and wave action and wind that create the "thunder" and the geyser-like water spray that makes this spot so noteworthy. But in truth it doesn't matter. While that makes it spectacular, it never fails to impress at any time of night, day, tide, or condition.
The most I could muster on this visit was a sputter! magnify this by a thousand fold or more and you will get an idea of what the hole is capable of.

Invariably, the spot is visited by people who have no knowledge of, and perhaps no respect for, the capabilities of the sea. Waves are not regular and predictable. So while images like this make for an interesting photo, they are in fact evidence of life threatening behavior. The rocks are slippery and the barnacles are razor sharp. A child, perhaps anyone, swept off these rocks by a larger than expected wave is in dire straights. It happens, but luckily not today.

Marilyn's son Dick and his wife Sarah are amazingly talented and skilled outdoor aficionados. They hike, bike, rock and ice climb, guide, teach, kayak- you name it they are probably quite expert at it. On this visit to the park, they guided us to this cave. We climbed down the rocks to investigate the tide pools inside the cave. How neat! The "young'uns" helped us old fogies down and back up. They sure make it look easy. It's not.
Going down...
Inside the cave, Sarah points out and discusses things to be found in the crystal clear water of the tide pool. She shows me species of sponges I am totally unfamiliar with, and shares her in-depth scientific knowledge of the eco system in the pool.


The light in the cave was rather dim, so some of the pool inhabitants were difficult to see while there. But once on the computer- a little fill light added shows lots of anemones and sponges, algae, seaweed that had been really hard to pick out in the cave.

We scramble back up the rock face to move on to Otter Point- a site where rock climbing classes can be observed. Hey, wait for me!!!!
Sarah, Dick, and Marilyn look up, down, and all around from the rocky outpoint at Otter Point.


I don't know how to describe the degree of difficulty involved in climbing up and down the rock faces at Otter Point. I just know I can't do it. Maybe I could, but I won't! Just standing on the precipice to take the photos was weirding me out a bit. Never did like heights very much.


You have a sheer cliff to climb (above) and a "chimney" to practice on nearby.

There is a temptation to think that rock is solid and stays just where we find it. Here is evidence that is not the case. Climbing on rocks mandates knowing what you are doing. Ever see the "Falling Rocks" sign as you travel down life's highways?

What goes down, must come up. Wait a minute. Is that how that saying goes???

Water, wind, surf, rocks, fog, birds. Calm, surging, violent. The possibilities at the edge of the sea are infinite and no better place to ponder the universe than on a perch overlooking the mystery and marvel of the sea.
Our "private guides" hiked us in to this "local knowledge only" skinny dipping spot on the Otter Creek. I know what you're thinking....and NO! The unbelievable clarity of the stream belies the depth at something around six feet.


Then on to Four Seasons Organic Farm. Sarah works here part time in the summer. She is a natural for this work. We found the farm to be absolutely amazing- growing things I had never seen (and I love gardening) in ways a I was unfamiliar with. The visit to the farm was another great learning experience for us. Dick and Sarah took us from National Park secrets to tricks of the organic farming trade all inside a week. We were very fortunate to have time to spend with them.


Artichokes- a biennial crop, are tricked into growing to maturity in a single season!

On the way back to the coach from the farm- we found this roadside stand that offered something different than most!

And finally for now, a look at Marilyn's perennially favorite Maine Garden- the Terrace Gardens of Asticou and Thuya in North East Harbor.

You hike up the side of the mountain adjacent to the harbor and are rewarded by commanding views of the harbor that get better and better as you get higher. Atop the mount is a splendid flower garden with something for everyone from the elaborate flower beds, to the hiking trails, to the wishing well. I found the "Owl's eye" on a tree along the path up- it was as though the tree kept special watch over the harbor.



The overall appearance of the garden is very nice, but close ups are where the action is....



And "What About Bob?" That was the name of a hilarious movie quite a few years back now. We have kept the title phrase alive and well with running "Bob" gags. But here's a new one on us: BOB- Blue Orchard Bee. Since honey bees have been in short supply of late, Maine horticulturists have taken to building bee condos for "bobs." 5/16 in. diameter holes drilled exactly 4 inches into a board no closer that 3/4 inches to each other- apparently form the perfect requirements for these little guys with two sets of wings on each side of their buzzing little bodies. Why that's more rules and regs than it takes to build a condo in Miami for goodness sake!

Pleathed and Thurprithed

My family has a "thing" where we use the post title phrase to report on pleasant happenings to each other. We are "both pleathed and thurprithed" when something nice takes place. Then we further comment by continuing, "but more pleathed than thurprithed" or "but more thurprithed than pleathed."
And so it is that a reader sent me a comment on my recent post, The Lesson of the Lobsterman. It seems she wrote a parallel piece on the same lobsterman (and saw the same Elvis) several years back. What a hoot! Thanks for the comment! Along with the comment came a note and a link telling us where she had seen and read our blog. I followed that link and was "both pleathed and thurprithed, but even more thurprithed than pleathed" to find there a list of what the site (rvtravelblogues.com) deems to be the top rv travel blogs on the web. I counted 44 U.S. blogs- and lo and behold there we are on that list.
One good turn deserves another, so I put a link on "my links" to that site. Feel free to check it out and discover some other terrific blogs which just might become part of you regular reading list.
Blogging is way more fun, and perhaps the slightest bit more addictive, that I ever thought possible. It's a great way to share experiences, thoughts and feelings with the world at large.

The Lesson of the Lobsterman

This is the lesson of the lobsterman, as told to me in Bar Harbor, Maine, as best as I can reconstruct the story:

It had been as bad a year as the lobsterman had had in a long time. The fuel prices were high, the wind kept a blowin' which made the fishing treacherous, the Mrs.' health was not what it should be, and he wasn't getting any younger. Times were hard enough that he found it difficult to give thanks to the Lord for all his blessings, as he had begun to think maybe there were no blessings to be had at this point in time. Still, he had to keep going and do the best he could.

One day he found himself at the end of a long hard day explaining to a tourist on the dock how it was that the lobster was a soft shell and not a hard shell this time of year.

"Think of it this way," he said, "Does your child's shoe grow?"
"Why, no it doesn't. Of course not," replied the tourist.
"Well then, does your child's foot grow?" asked the lobsterman.
To which the tourist nodded that in fact those feet kept right on a growing.
The lobsterman explained that when the foot gets too big for the shoe, you have to get a new and bigger one.
"Granted" said the tourist.
"Same with the lobster. He grows inside his shell, but his shell, like the shoe, does not grow. So whenever he gets too big for his shell, he crawls himself right on out of it and then grows himself a new one."
He went on to explain the biology and the chemistry of the process. He was a fisherman with a deep understanding of the product he worked with.
"Once that lobster has squeezed himself out of that shell, he releases a chemical that starts to turn his new, soft skin into a new, hard shell. Because it is now soft when once it was hard, it has a new flexibility and the lobster is able to fill it with sea water and stretch it bigger so that he then provides room for himself to grow into it. Problem for the lobster is - he has no protection until that new shell hardens. He has potential; but he must be careful and plan and act wisely and prudently if he is to survive and grow."
Satisfied with the explanation, the tourist took his leave and the lobsterman made his way home.
With his head bowed in prayer at the table that night, it dawned on him that he had just taught himself a valuable lesson. Like the lobster, he was vulnerable in his current state of affairs. His defenses were down. He prayed for his spirit to rise up and grow strong again. Then he theorized: when we are most vulnerable and defenseless, we are also the most flexible and in the best position to grow.
It was a simple lesson learned by observing a lobster who was just growing according to the way Nature intended....but it gave meaning to his situation....and he began to grow stronger....

Many of life's great lessons are learned by paying attention to what goes on in the natural world that surrounds us.

"Let us grow..."

And grow is what we did here at the amazingly cool Oceanarium in Bar Harbor, Maine. If you follow the blog you've seen picture after picture from some of the country's most sophisticated aquariums. This is no high fa-looting aquarium but I probably learned more here about sea life than I have in all the other much bigger city slicker places combined. The staff is knowledgeable and excellent- no summer campers taking up space at this establishment.

Here you can see lobsters being born, growing through several stages to about an inch in length before they are ready for release into the wild. It was simply fascinating. With the exception of the "sterile" zones that protected the young lobsters, everything was touchy-feely.

Above, young lobsters in with brine shrimp being moved to "condos" with the help of a turkey baster. Below, a female lobster with fertilized eggs on the underside of her shell.

I don't think I mentioned that I did a bit of commercial diving for urchins for a short while, but I did. I was a cold water diver and I spent the better part of my life in Maine waters one way or another. I thought I knew quite a bit about lobsters and urchins and things like sea "cukes" (cucumbers)- and I suppose I do. But I came away knowing a whole lot more. Time to be flexible. Time to learn. Time to grow. And isn't that what travel, and life in general, is all about in the first place?

Elvis - LIVE!

For those of you who are convinced that Elvis is still alive and well, try looking for his weekly show at the Narrows Too Campground in Trenton. No, not New Jersey. Trenton, Maine. As close as you can get to Bar Harbor without actually being there. It freaked us out a bit when Elvis himself showed up at the coach the afternoon before his big gig and personally invited us to be in attendance. Who in their right mind is going to turn down an invitation from Elvis? Not me. I am so going to that concert. We each got to make a request. Abby wanted to hear "Ain't Nuttin' But a Hound Dog."

Well, sir, Elvis rocked it and rolled it, wiggled it and twisted it and that act was so hot the fire alarm in the great hall got set off twice. I can't swear it was the hot act- possible it was the smoke from the special effects machine on the stage, but it sure added a new dimension to the act, and one that the performer made the most of. Look for Marilyn "up close and personal" with the big guy. She even got a scarf out of the gig!

Bruce Nye, The Elvis Guy had a packed house singing and grooving for a little better than an hour before "Elvis left the building...." Like the Mainers say, "That was some wicked fun, deah." What a hunk a burnin' love!

Finishing On The High Note

The Maine Lobster Festival is a wonderful way to spend a week in the summer in Maine. Complete with parade, a myriad of activities for all ages and all skill sets, it promotes and boasts the largest single "lobster feed" on the planet. Were I to attempt to put up photos of even a small portion of the goings on...I would be "going on" for way too long. So, with any luck, and with the help of my trusty friends at Geeks on Tour video tutorials for rv'ers and everyone else who needs them, who are responsible for most if not all of the incredible (yea, right) technological advances I have made with this computer of mine, I will attempt to embed my first ever automatically playing slide show from festival. Talk about going on and on- it's darn near a full length feature so if you have the inclination AND the time, give it a whirl! No doubt you will notice a ton of slides from the William Atwood Great International Lobster Crate Race. It's my each-and-every-year favorite part of the festival. While this year's race is not yet posted on their site, I happen to have more than enough shots of the running of the crates (Rockland's version of the Running of the Bulls), and also the falling off of the crates. The old record was 3007 crates run in 50 crate increments without falling into the icy waters of Penobscot Bay. That record held up for 25 years or so they tell me. But this year, the record, which IS included in the Guinness Book of World Records, was broken by a young man from Connecticut, Andrew Bachiochi, the Green Dream Machine as the crowd took to calling him before he took a dive, who ran a most amazing 4, 501 crates before doing a partial back flip into the water just to cool off! I know he could have done more. I just know it.

Lobster Festival Slide Show

It’s been a difficult struggle to decide what to write about and, quite frankly, what to feel about being back in Mid-Coast Maine- Rockland, Thomaston, Camden, Warren. Throw in Belfast if you must. This is where we lived for much of our lives and where we worked at our respective businesses, got involved with our community in every way we could, and enjoyed time with our many friends.

It was a place to call home. A place where no matter where else we went, coming back felt good and safe, known and comfortable. Where the house was just exactly the home we wanted it to be. Where the businesses thrived the way they do when they are nurtured by all your energies. Where we knew every shop keeper and they knew us. It was OUR TOWN- not in a selfish and greedy way, but in the way of total immersion into the lives we were living.

But change is inevitable, and for a host of reasons, we moved on to experience the marvelous adventure of distant places, exotic cultures and new times. In my mind, Rockland was still “home.” But in fact, it no longer is. The house is no longer ours. The commercial buildings have all been sold now. The business interests are gone. And come to find out, in the decade we have been gone, many businesses have folded; friends and places known are new and unknown. New places have popped up. It doesn’t look the same. It doesn’t feel the same. Because it isn’t the same. And coming to that understanding has been a bit more challenging then I would have imagined prior to getting back here.

We did manage to spend some quality time with a few friends that are near and dear to our hearts. Blessings on all of us for that! Being together in the here and now, though, is vitally different than going back into time…and in fact, I think we all realize we cannot do that at all, no matter how often and how hard we might try. You can only go home, if, in fact, you are going home. Our home is on wheels now, so while we are here now, “home” just happens to be passing on through…and we try to find a way to best appreciate that concept as well as the time here. Which is why the Saturday night entertainment at the 2008 Maine Lobster Festival at Harbor Park in downtown Rockland was just what the doctor ordered for a guy that still felt a bit confused about the emotional end of being back here. In typical fashion, the concert went on in the thick of fog. It wasn’t rain! Just the heavy wet night air that is visible in the form of billions of little water droplets against the stage lights on such a night. Entertainment, as always, signed, sealed and delivered by my old pal, Mr. Chuck Kruger, without whom the festival would just plain not be the same. On stage: Freddy “Boom Boom” Cannon, Jay and the Techniques, and headliner Little Anthony and the Imperials- all original and as great as ever- maybe better. Oldies Music! The one thing that I find I can always go home to! With each number I felt better about being here. “We Built This City”, yes, not on rock-n-roll, but on long hours of planning, follow through and making things better that could be better. As I stood in the concert crowd, moving, grooving, and singing along, it dawned on me that the accomplishments of the past remain with me, no matter that time and circumstances have altered the way things look now. You cannot go back. But you can go forward on the strength of the things you built when you were back there.

So when Jay Proctor DID hit the high note at the end of his ramp (he warned us sometimes he doesn’t always hit it any more) it was the perfect metaphor for leaving tomorrow on a much higher note than I was able to sing when we first pulled into town more than a week ago. And when Little Anthony sang Cloud Nine in the fog that softened the groups image on the stage, things became much clearer than the night air would have you believe. Another Lobster Festival, another visit to Rockland- and maybe, for me, the last one- has given me far more than I could ever have imagined. I preached giving back to the community in every way I knew how when I was HERE, and the equation has once again, as it always does, proven to be true:

In all ways of true meaning in life, They profit most Who serve the best….

Back In The Mid-Coast Again

This WAS home. Mid-Coast Maine. Rockland, Thomaston, Owls Head, Camden, Warren, Cushing, Port Clyde, Tenants Harbor, Pemaquid Point and Belfast (if you wish to give them the benefit of the doubt). It was an active and caring community. It was loaded with the independence of its inhabitants and the rugged beauty of its coast. It was far enough from "cities" to be rural, but close enough to Portland, even to Boston some 3 1/2 hours drive away, to be able to get that big city fix if you needed it. Anyone could make a living here if they chose to do so and were willing to work hard- teach, fish, build, log, craft, write, paint, sail, boat-build- all viable for those with a talent or the willingness to learn a skill. Our base for this stay was the Saltwater Farm Campground just over the Cushing line and on the St. George River. My old house here had a water view of the river- if you stood at the front window on the second floor of the house on your tip toes and the leaves were already off the trees for the season. I fished the river, clammed the river, boated the river, swam in the river, ran a bait shop along the river for a year or two and once or twice got totally lost in the fog on the river. It's tidal, beautiful, occasionally dangerous. Below is the view of the river from the farm.

You say Mid Coast Maine to some people and Andrew Wyeth comes to mind pretty fast. He was a customer of my art supply store and frame shop. On rare occasion we had a piece or two of his in the gallery we ran. We considered the entire family to be good friends. His sister Ann Wyeth McCoy even named her little bulldog "Gundy." Whether you are visiting the Farnsworth Art Museum in Rockland or the Olsen farm in Cushing (below), site of the world famous Wyeth painting called "Christina's World" - if you know the Wyeth imagery, it won't take you long to figure out you are in Wyeth country here.


It's the beginning of August. Most of the visitors here are on summer vacation. But August is the beginning of Fall here. Lift a wet finger to the wind and feel the chill in the breeze and watch for the first leaf to start to yellow. Might be warm in the daytime, but you will NOT need the "air" on to get a good night's sleep. We used to joke that Maine had two seasons: Winter and The Fourth of July. Now you know we have Fall too. Just a look at the growing wood-aging piles stacked in the fields after the hay has been cut will tell you the truth. Clean the chimneys- time to light the fires....


Above, this is typical "down on the point" scenery and below, a nice place to eat some seafood and watch the fog roll in... Lobster is the main (make that Maine) attraction.

A nice bath is different here. And not just for Saturday night. And "hot tub" has a whole new meaning as well. The dock at Port Clyde is not quaint so the tourists can enjoy it after shopping in the Port Clyde General Store. This is life the way we like it on the coast of Maine.


At Duck Trap, the Creek by the same name flows into Penobscot Bay. This spot is "powerful beautiful". The local kids and their dogs swim here, even in the harshest of tidal flows. Stripers run in and out of the lagoon on the coming tide and Atlantic salmon run up the river late in the Fall to spawn...Alaskan salmon run it ain't, but noteworthy none-the-less.

The waves wash large round rocks on the beach and some of the largest driftwood specimens you will find on this coast wash in here regularly...

Don't wanna fish or swim or collect.... just look, or maybe have a picnic.

Most folks will know something about cans, buoys, and bells. They are all navigational aids and the lives of Maine boaters at all levels depend on their proper positioning and use. The US Coast Guard is in charge of that aspect of things. But even after their active life is over, they are turned into works of art or shoreline decoration of one sort or another. The state motto: Use it up, Wear it out, Make it do, goes right to work.

This "dragger" was in dry dock for repairs at Journey's End Marina, where I used to keep my boat docked. Interesting perspective, don't you think?...the last thing that a scallop or a fish ever sees!!!
This is the Owl's Head Light. It's a state park so you can walk right up to the tower. Take the ear plugs if it's foggy; that horn is some loud.



Rockland Breakwater Light: it protects the areas largest and most viable harbor. The breakwater runs (or should I say "walks") for a full mile from the shore to the light house. You can walk out to the light whenever you wish, although in rough weather the waves crash on, and occasionally wash over the mighty granite rocks. The safe harbor behind the breakwater is home to commercial enterprises, recreational activities, the Maine Lobster Festival (on whose board I served for many a year), and the largest windjammer fleet in the world. I don't know the exact numbers to justify that claim any more, but though Camden used to lay claim to the title, in fact Rockland had twice as many ships moored or docked in the harbor as Camden did for quite a while now. Yes, Camden is beautiful - the small-by-comparison Camden Harbor produces the illusion that there are many more vessels there. Not so. The competition between the CITY of Rockland and the TOWN of Camden was raging even before I relocated to Maine in 1972. It will probably go on for much longer. At times it turned nasty, but mostly it was a friendly rivalry as the two locales compliment each other nicely. And as long as we all understand that I'm a Rockland guy- and that I say that's the place to be- well that's just all well and good!

Of all the Windjammers sailing out of Rockland, my favorite always was, and still is, the Schooner Heritage, captained by the husband and wife team (both captains) of Doug and Linda Lee. All of the captains that you could sail with from Rockland will do an excellent job- there's not a bad apple in the barrel. But Captains Lee eat, sleep and breathe what they do for a living and the history of not only their ship but the entire sailing industry. For my money, they would be the captains of choice. Captains courageous. Dashing and bold as well. Incredibly personable. And with an in depth understanding of what it takes to give their customers and passengers the best experience possible. On the day we sat on the end of the breakwater to watch the fleet sail out of the harbor for a week on Penobscot Bay, the other jammers all stayed well off the tip of the breakwater; it made for nice, not great pictures, either for on lookers or passengers. But Heritage sailed right on by within spitting distance of the light. Close enough for a thrill, but safe enough too. Great for snapping a picture of the light from on board, or to feel like you were on board even if you could not be. Close enough to greet the captains and for Captain Doug to say clearly to the lot of us on the end of the breakwater, "It's gonna be a beautiful day on Penobscot Bay" without so much as needing to raise his voice.

The Rockland fleet are all beautiful, but the majesty of Heritage speaks volumes for itself....




Show over- back to fishing. Most will try for mackerel which dash back and forth in large schools and make for great fun. Some will drop a small hand line down through the granite blocks to the deep water under the breakwater to try for "cunners," a small rockfish like sea bass. A few will have no clue what they are fishing for and will just sit there all day anyway wetting a line. No matter; it's still a great place and a great way to spend a day.

If you want to duck inland just a bit, you can take a drive to Lake Megunticook and the Maiden Cliffs. It's a popular rock climb in mild weather and in winter it becomes a thick sheet of ice that is an even more popular ice climbing spot.

It's a great and (relatively) warmer water spot for family swimming and water sports.

Breakfast at Tiffany's- no. In Maine we do breakfast at Moodys. Always did; and I hope we always will. The sign along Route 1 in Waldoboro is a non-land landmark in its own right.

My pal, Mr. Entertainment, Chuck Kruger, and his adorable wife Linda joined us for coffee and dessert at the coach. There are a lot of musical personalities and groups I have favored over the years. But I guess with Chuck I would need to place myself in the "groupy" category. His magical music and lyrics, the perfect blend of the rugged life of Maine and the low key laid back rhythms of the Caribbean registers perfectly in my life lived in relative parallel to his, at least in some regards. He is, by all standards, a great human being. And now what's up with Chuck? Running for Maine State Legislature. If ever any government at any level could find room for someone who could actually make a difference and make change for the better, then surely he should be the people's choice. I'm a believer! Vote Kruger, Maine!

OK. Moodys for breakfast. Kruger for Legislature. Reds Eats for lunch. Other than Moodys, this is the single most popular eatery in Maine- maybe even the world. Who really knows? Everything is fried. Ain't no broiled codfish at this establishment, mister man. But good. Gracious sakes. If you're gonna go off the diet for even a moment, then this Rt 1 establishment in Damariscotta is the place to be. If they are open, then the line is already formed- so no line, keep driving, Reds is closed.

The roughest coastal scenery in the mid-coast is to be found down Pemaquid way. This working light house is open to the public; you can climb the narrow winding stairs to the light for an incredible view...


...of the bowling alley. No pins and balls- just lanes and big rocks. They call it the bowling alley because at low tide in a monster storm the mighty waves roll giant rocks up the granite troughs, only to have them rumble and roll back down. On a normal day, there is no such action. But if you are ever here in a big storm, this is a sight and an experience not to be missed.


From halfway up the light, the glass of the old window makes for a splendid photo. Andy, grab those paints - you gotta see this.

With a wedge out of the back, this light house light allows a peak inside. When in place, the solid wedge protects the land view from the bright light. For island lights, the lense is 360 degrees 'round.

Coming to Maine for an aerial view? Most people think of Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park. That is numero uno to be sure, but the view of pretty (little, he said, tongue in cheek) Camden harbor from Mount Battie is pretty spectacular as well. It wasn't a clear day, when you can see forever, but the fog and the haze have a beauty all their own.
Then, like our visit with my old pal Steve a while back, things wrapped up with Chris' reading the Cremation of Sam McGee around the fire after we shared a meal of mussels steamed in garlic and white wine back at the Saltwater Farm before heading north. Or is that East. DownEast.

Here's a sign you won't see anywhere else...

We simply ran out of time in the mid-coast before I could visit and photograph everything I thought you might be interested in. There is oh so much to do here. But there are several more
places I'd like to provide a link to for those of you who would like to visit here. These are places for special interests and maybe something that will appeal to you....

Owls Head Transportation Museum: perhaps the most unique museum I have ever visited. It houses a collection of antique and specialty vehicles of all types. You like old cars, fancy cars? This is your place. Airplanes? They got 'em. Motorcycles. All kinds of cool stuff...and everything, yes everything is fully operational. The planes fly, the cars ride real good- you get the idea.

Shore Village Museum- the Lighthouse Museum of Maine, was conceived, collected, directed, and built into a second to none, world class lighthouse museum-now located on the waterfront in Rockland Harbor and known as Maine Lighthouse Museum- by my dear friend and former fellow Rockland Rotary Club President, Ken Black. Ken's drive to develop the museum was legendary not only in "these here parts", but nationally and even internationally. He was simply a magnificent gentleman, and as he has now gone on to the great light in the sky, I will never ever see a lighthouse without recalling the many hours spent chatting and working on any number of projects with him. People of his caliber leave a mighty hole when they depart this world.

Samoset Resort: Formerly THE U.S. resort of the British Royalty, it is now established as one of the finest resorts anywhere in the world. I mention it specifically for those of you who love the game of golf. Their course is built out along the ocean with magnificent water, breakwater, and lighthouse vistas. It is often referred to as "The Pebble Beach of the East." I guess for very good reason- not that I golf. Marcel Lacasse, who set the resort on the path to what it has become today, and for whom the best of the best dining room is named, was another dearly departed friend of mine, and a giant of the community.

Where have all the good men gone? Long time passing....