Maine and New Hampshire September 5th thru 30th, 2018

Stephen King’s Home

It was time for our second trip home during this six-month long tour, so the day after we crossed the border back into the states, we took a twelve-hour flight to get back to Dallas from Bangor, Maine.  Since the airport is small, the only flight out left at 2pm, so after two flights and a layover in Newark, we finally got to our Airbnb in McKinney at 2am.  On the fifteen-minute drive to the Bangor airport, our Uber driver was very chatty, and asked if we had 10 minutes to spare so he could show us something.  We agreed, and he took us to see Stephen King’s home.  He told us all about the gates in front of the house, the 11 cars SK owns (even though he does not drive), that he paid to have the fronts of all the houses on the block fixed up when he moved in, and the big tips he gave.  The guy also shared a story about going to Bar Harbor and being in the room next to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.  He said Brad was friendly and complained that Angie spent all day shopping.  Interesting guy!  (much more interesting, our driver told us about driving Bobby Orr and his wife from Bangor to Bar Harbor.  I’d love to spend an hour with my childhood hero trapped in the backseat)  Bill was very excited to know his butt was touching the same seat as Bobby Orr’s.

Elderly, Maverick, and Hunter

We had a wonderful visit home; the grand-kids  don’t seem to be phased by our extended absences and are so happy to see us.  They are all three just darling, and at such fun ages.  Bill carried a giant box of toys and Halloween costumes home for them.  My mom was in good health, and happy in her assisted living home, which is really great.  The week was over in a busy flash, and we repeated our twelve-hour return trip.

We only had three days in Bangor but we took the first day to recover from Dallas.  The next day we picked up my bike from Harley, and rode to Bar Harbor.  It’s a pretty little touristy town, with 2 huge cruise ships in port (we were actually pretty surprised about how big the ships were) and tons of shops.  We rode to nearby Acadia National Park, which was beautiful.  They have a one way, two lane road circling the park, which is brilliant, since it allowed us to enjoy the winding roads.  It was so nice we thought we would return the next day to ride and hike, but ended up not going.  After we left for the White Mountains, I discovered that the Aurora Borealis can be seen from Acadia between August and October.  This is at the top of my bucket list and I would love to see it from somewhere that is not frozen.  When we come back to Maine, we will definitely be staying nearer to Bar Harbor so we can spend more time enjoying Acadia.

Bar Harbor, Maine

Moving on, our next stop was Campton, New Hampshire, at the foot of the White Mountains range.  Our drive from Bangor to Campton was fraught with stress.  We always check our route in advance for low clearance roads and even have a special Trucker’s Road Atlas that lists roads to avoid.  On this drive, Bill thought we were safe on the interstate, but as we approached I95 there were low clearance warnings that were not mentioned in our Atlas.  Our trailer is 13’5 and the clearance was 13’6, which led to a great deal of stress induced cussing and complaining (I hadn’t noticed but the way the Atlas works is it lists clearances below the state ‘minimum’.  In the case of New Hampshire, the state ‘minimum’ is 13’ 6” so the Atlas didn’t call out I95.  I can tell you that driving under a bridge at 60 mph with only 1” between you and the bottom of the bridge is a little stressful and definitely demands a little profanity).  We even stopped at the New Hampshire information center to try to determine where the problem bridges were, thinking we could exit to avoid them.  Their attitude seemed to be travel at your own risk.  Halfway to our destination, we were routed onto what can only be described as a backwoods two lane road (deceptively called Hwy 113), perfect for a motorcycle ride, but not really designed for a 60-foot truck and trailer combo.  We survived the trip without incident, but it was not a fun day (to add to our excitement there is a 12’6” low clearance bridge on “Hwy 3”, our next road after 113 on the way to the trailer park and it wasn’t exactly clear from the Atlas whether that bridge was before we turned off of “Hwy 3” for “Hwy 175”).  On the up side, the road we traveled was beautiful, we rode it on the motorcycles twice.  The tree canopy must have been 50 feet tall, and was the longest I have ever seen. Nice sweeping curves all the way to lunch in Conway, NH.  We returned on the Kancamagus Scenic Highway, a 34 mile stretch through the White Mountain National Forest.

I picked a nearby trail for us to hike up, the Welch-Dickey trail, billed as “extremely popular due to its relatively easy access to fine views, and the many scenic areas along the granite ledges”. The 4.4-mile loop was rated as “easy and family friendly” even though the climb was 1700 feet over the two miles to the summit. The first three quarters of the way up wasn’t that bad, but that last section was killer.  The trail went from woodsy to bare granite at such an extreme slant that I was way more worried about trying to go back down than I was about surviving the climb, which was rough.  In some parts, we had to climb over boulders, and at one point I went around searching for easier access.  When I called back to Bill that I found a cave, he hollered back “you might want to stay away from the BEAR CAVE”.  Crap!!  We did not see any bears of course, but I did stay on the path after that.

Climbing Welsh Mountain, NH

The views were absolutely stunning at the top, where we were surrounded by layers of mountains in every direction.  The leaves had not really started to change much yet, but there were patches of color here and there.  I’ve actually been pretty disappointed in the lack of wildlife we have seen over the past few months, but there is so much wilderness I guess they have no need to be near trails.  Coming down the steep granite was, as I expected, not easy.  I crabbed sideways, hugging the tree line as best I could in case I fell, thinking the trees would keep me from rolling too far down the mountain (I was told to go first, not to find the way, not to save her in case she fell but because she didn’t want me slipping and knocking her off the mountain.  I’d like to also point out that on the way up I had to walk behind her so I didn’t block her view).  Good thing it was dry and sunny, because it would have been really scary when wet. We made it without injury, but who the hell decided this trail was “easy” and “family friendly”?  Maybe for a family of monkeys.

While at the top of Welsh Mountain Bill got to try out his newest toy. After studying and agonizing over it for weeks, Bill ordered a new drone, a Mavic 2 Pro and picked it up when we were home.  He already has the original Mavic Pro, but of course the new one is much better  (she says this with a bit of sarcasm but it is completely true.  Anyone interested in buying a slightly used Mavic Pro???).  I thought it would ease his obsessive focus to go ahead and get it, but I was wrong about that.  He is fascinated by everything it can do and continues to educate himself and watch endless videos on the subject.  He loves to try it out every opportunity and attracts people wherever we go that want to look over his shoulder and talk all about it.  This often takes quite a bit of time, so I am trying to amuse myself or patiently wait while he plays with his new toy.  He does get some pretty awesome pictures and video, which is really not fair play, since I can’t get those shots. We are pretty competitive with our photography, and often tell each other “I already got that shot, don’t copy me”, all in fun of course.

Highlander’s on Parade, White Mountains, NH

Our trip to this area was arranged around the Highland Games & Festival held at Loon Mountain Resort.  Billed as one of the largest gatherings for Highland games in North America, it is a three-day extravaganza with competitions for dancing, marching, bagpiping, and “Heavy Athletic” competitions.  We

Caber Toss

watched world record holders, Olympians and an ex-football player compete in the caber toss (telephone pole flipping), throwing a 35lb weight over a bar 20 plus feet high, the heavy weight (56lb) one handed throw (like the shot put), and the same weight on a short chain with a handle that they throw after spinning around (like the discus).  As a special event, Hafthor “The Mountain” Bjornsson broke his own world record for the Stone Press by lifting a 344lb square chunk of granite (link to last year’s 341lb lift). He bent to picked it up off the ground, squatted to rest it on his knees, then stood and bent way backwards to rest it on his chest before lifting it straight overhead. He had to do it twice because they ruled he did not “set” for five seconds on the first lift.

It was a huge crowd, and we had to park a couple of miles away and be bussed to the resort where at least half of the crowd was attired in full Scottish dress, clan tartan kilts, kilt hose (cuffed knee socks), sporrans (a man purse), assorted headwear, clan badges, and pins. Very Outlander! (speaking of which, Clan Frasier was of course in attendance and their booth included a life-sized cardboard Jamie.  Dessa, and thus I, had to wait her turn to get a picture.  For our male readers that don’t know what I’m talking about, just be thankful).  There were competitions for dance, drumming and piping and a parade of drummers and bag pipers grouped by clan.  So many bagpipes! For lunch, we ate Rumbledethumps, mashed potatoes with cabbage and onion and meat pies  (neither particularly good), then stood in line for 30 minutes for

Yummy Treat

the most outrageous dessert – a cinnamon puff pastry the size of a salad plate smothered in strawberry compote and then drowned in a thick pile of real whipped cream.  Amazing!!!  We also bought several other goodies to (carry around) and take home, like Dead Fly Pie, a dinner plate size crispy, baked puff pastry caramelized with cinnamon and raisins. The sign claimed they were “outlawed by Puritans in 1653” but I couldn’t find anything online to support that, still…YUM!  (In all I’d call our pastry haul roughly 5,000 calories, all of which were wonderful)

This was the last weekend of the season for most of campgrounds in the area, and many were booked up, or did not have sites big enough for us.  In spite of the good rating for the place we picked, it turned out to be less than ideal.  I am really fine living in our trailer, and do not consider it to be “camping” but sometimes the RV parks are too rustic.  Our time here was rainy and cloudy and muddy, three things I find depressing.  To add to the fun…we were invaded by a squirrel family.  So GROSS!!!  We came home from a day out to discover a partially eaten apple and torn bread bags in the pantry.  Bill set sticky and spring traps, after inspecting all foods and moving them to plastic bins.  At dawn the next morning, he had what he thought was a mouse stuck to the sticky paper.  Not wanting to murder it, he put it in a Walmart bag and set it outside, to deal with later.  When we got up a couple of hours later, one of the spring traps had been sprung, and there were tiny bits of red plastic (we thought it was blood at first) around where our guest had chewed the trap.  We looked all over, but saw nothing…until a black flash dashed across the floor and out through a small air vent under the cabinets.  Obviously more aggressive actions were required, so off to the hardware store for metal mesh to close the gap and a bigger game trap.  On the way out, we discovered the one we captured earlier had met an ugly fate, trapped in the Walmart bag, he had been easy prey for someone bigger and meaner.  Not our intention, but maybe it sent a message to others who would dare.  We never caught any others, and must assume that when we drove away a couple of days later we left our unwanted visitor behind.  In spite of Bill’s concerns about a potential nest of squirrel babies hidden under the floors or behind the walls, we have not seen or heard any signs of invaders since.

Portland Head Lighthouse

Moving on we spent a few days in Portland, Maine, the biggest city in Maine with a massive population of 67,000.  The Portland Head Lighthouse was on a beautiful rocky point, surrounded by Fort Williams Park, and Bill got some great video with his drone.  After completing another of our city walks we had the best pizza I’ve ever eaten – Slab, Sicilian Pizza (I have to agree with Dessa.  This stuff was fantastic.  We split a piece for lunch.  It weighed 1 lb so that one slice was more than enough.  It was so good that we came back at the end of the day to buy 4 more slices to put in the freezer).

A day trip took us to Eartha, the world’s largest revolving globe, Freeport a cute town full of shops and the home of LL Bean, and a picturesque marina at Georgetown Island Coves. Maine has over 60 lighthouses, so we have to pick the ones we want to see. The Cape Neddick Lighthouse, in York, Maine looked good, but sadly we found it shrouded by a green net, undergoing repairs.  York would be a great place to vacation, it was a very nice area with lovely, huge houses circling the coast.

Settled in 1623, Portsmouth, NH (just across the state line from Maine) claims to be the nation’s third-oldest city.  This was reflected in the number of massive cemeteries we saw, apparently when you have been around for almost 300 years, you accumulate lots of bodies.  The other thing we noticed was the difficulty of navigating our truck through cities with roads that were designed for a horse and buggy.  Average speed is 30mph, with a traffic light every block, which means lots of slow traffic even in small towns.

Maritime Folk Festival

While we were there, Portsmouth held its annual Maritime Folk Festival, where singers and musicians wander the sidewalks performing sea shanties. It was interesting, but this type of music is not really our thing. We did enjoy a busker who was playing a Swedish nyckelharpa, a 20-string instrument played with a short bow, that has 37 keys.  It must be super hard to play, which would explain why less than 1000 players are documented over a 600-year period.

Our pictures and video can be found here.

The journey continues… next up Massachusetts.