Post #10 - Aug, 2017

Acadia

Our eyes weren’t prepared for Acadia National Park. Our only preview was from John and Julie’s tales of kayaking and hiking here years ago. “Amazing. We love Acadia, you have to go.” was how I remembered them describing it. They sincerely meant, “you have to go”. We almost didn’t. I had us heading inland to the mountains after Old Orchard Beach. Lucky for us, I was fired as Fun Coordinator for panic booking that weeklong NH spot. Erin seized scheduling control and calmly got us a great site at the north eastern side of the island. We were five minutes from the salty Mt. Desert Narrows, ten minutes from the main Acadia park entrance, and fifteen minutes from the two month old skatepark in Bar Harbor.

Acadia had me in a constant state of being blown away. An example: Erin and I were out on the water and I was feeling reflective. I was talking about the contrast between the paddling we were currently engaged in and the shop-vac snafu that filled the freshly prepared house with fireplace soot and ashes - the day before it went up for sale. A moment later a huge bald eagle arced over the tree line directly above us putting an exclamation point on the thought.

Paddling

I was just talking about how we CAN NOT add any more weight to the truck. Grocery shopping will have to wait until we arrive. One day later we bought a Wal-Mart kayak and a boat anchor. The weight trade-off is worth it. Now we can paddle around in pairs. Our next stop we’ll get all four of us out: two in the boat in canoe mode, two on the paddle board and Wal-Mart kayak.

Here are bunch of shots from shore. Still working on waterproofing our gear.

Hiking

We walked the Ocean Path to Thunder Hole (yes there were many, many fart jokes - sorry Erin).

Skating

This spot was awesome. It was brand new. The boys made fast friends with some locals even though one kid was wearing a Patriots shirt.

Fishing

Got a week long fishing license for this and our next Maine stop. Nolan and I hiked a mile in to one of the carriage trails to get to Witch Hole Pond. A beaver was slapping his tail at us and the earth sucked one of my flip flops off of my foot.

People

Ron was camped across from us in a sweet teardrop set up. He’s out on the road with his Vietnamese dog, Mabel, retracing Steinbeck’s “Travels with Charley”. His grandfather worked on the rig, Rocinante, from book! I had just finished it a couple of months ago (in preparation for this trip) and was uncharacteristically familiar with a book somebody was talking about. Ron is 50 this year and quit his job with the support of his wife and kids to do what I imagine to be a lot of driving around and thinking. He’s blogging about it too.

The family adjacent from us at the campground was from Caribou, “the most northeastern city in Maine”. Later we talked to a old timer who also claimed to be from “the most northeastern city in Maine”, Caribou. I thought they were all together, but nope. They were camped two sites down from one another and didn’t know they both hailed from the same tiny town.

Eric is the owner. I found him in an “employees only” area of the campground just beginning construction of a mini golf course (this made our conversation feel very Kurt Russell Overboard). He called campground ownership, “a labor of love” and gave me some plywood I needed for project.

Wal-Mart sporting goods clerk filled me in on employment practices in Acadia. The twentysomethings work eighty hours per week for the busy season as a server or cook, then try to make those funds last during the unemployed off-season (fall, winter, spring).