Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Copyright(c) 2009, Jim Beachy
“Have you looked outside?” Kitty asks sometime before 7:00 AM.
I am hoping for sunshine but instead there is more of the same fog, mist, and rain we’ve seen for almost a week now. So after breakfast we once again do the Dance of the Rain Suit and head into the fog and rain with our newly-cleaned motorcycle and trailer. It was so dirty and covered with grit and grime yesterday that I couldn’t even entertain the notion of not giving it a new start regardless of today’s weather.We stay on the slow coastal road, Rt. 1, which for the most part is a pleasant and well-surfaced road. The coast once again is always to our left and in good weather we would probably ride off the main road into some of the little villages and historic sites but as it is, we keep to US Rt. 1. Within 50 miles the rain has mostly stopped and only the relentless fog remains. At some point we see a majestic bald eagle perched in a large dead tree of the type where eagles might pose for postcard pictures if eagles would pose for postcard pictures. Kitty and I laugh as we watch his eyes clearly lock onto our rig and his head slowly swivels to follow us as we pass. I hope he is not contemplating us as a potential breakfast. Or perhaps he noticed the Gold Wing’s eagle emblem on the side panels and the front bumper and is thinking of investigating.
We talk about our experiences in the Gaspé Peninsula and hope our Canadian friends are enjoying their day of celebration. Yesterday we noticed many of the neatly-maintained and brightly-painted homes draped with Canadian and New Brunswick flags, so they appeared ready to celebrate. “Au revoir a Canada!” Kitty says.
After a fuel stop where we take off rain gear for the day, the GPS estimates our arrival time in Brunswick, Maine, at 2:30 PM. “Well,” says Kitty, “that will give us time to do some shopping at Wal-Mart, do our exercise workout, and make it to Cook’s by six.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” I say. “Except I’m thinking more along the lines of a nap instead of exercise.”
I suppose if one were so inclined, a traveler could follow this road from Maine to Miami with the coast always on the left. There would be many different experiences to enjoy. One of those is Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park. We almost always stop at Bar Harbor when we’re in the area but we talked this morning to a couple on a Wing from Ohio who’d been there for three days looking for any kind of break in the pervasive fog and found none. As we look to the left across the bay toward Bar Harbor, the banks are solidly immersed in a gray blanket of fog that hangs near the horizon. There seems to be little point in going to Bar Harbor today unless it were a destination, which it isn’t, so I watch a little sadly as Bar Harbor slides by on the GPS screen and we continue past Ellsworth toward Bath. It’s one of our favorite places when we come to New England.
Route 1 runs through some towns between Ellsworth and Bath but in general it’s not too bad. It is lined with bed-and-breakfast places, inns, and cottages for rent. For the history and “quaint village” buff, this could be a three-day ride in itself to explore every nook and cranny along the coast and visit all the villages and historical sites.
We reach Brunswick, Maine at about 3:00 PM and decide to shop for a few items at Wal-Mart before checking in to the motel. Since we haven’t made reservations, we can go where we want, so we decide to try a small motel on Bailey Island within walking distance to Cook’s. This will avoid the 14-mile ride to and from Cook’s; the ride back is always at night, and almost every time we’ve been here it has been foggy. I call and learn we will not need reservations but I am concerned about whether the parking lot is paved or graveled. The clerk tells us it is hard-packed gravel; but both she and the owner have motorcycles and understand the problems with gravel and a big bike, and she assures me we will have no problems.
We approach the famous Harpswell cribstone bridge, the only one of its kind in the world, a building-block like arrangement of large granite blocks that allow the tide to rise and fall and still perform its function as a bridge. It’s under repair! There’s no roadway on the top and some of the blocks are missing. There’s no place to pull off for a picture, and by the time we cross onto Bailey Island on the temporary bridge, the fog has closed in tight and we can’t even see the bridge. If you are reading this on my blog, you can check out some pictures in the Nova Scotia blog on a page named “Cook’s!”Doreen meets us outside, talks about motorcycles and rides for a few minutes before checking us in. “Do you offer a AAA discount?” I ask her as we are checking in.
“Sorry, no,” she replies.
I lean over and depress the “Help” bell on the counter.
“I’m the only one here!” she says.
“Well, I was hoping I could find someone with a better offer.”
She laughs as she explains she can’t give us a price break, but ends up putting us in an upgraded room. She says there is a water hose right where I parked the bike and I am welcome to use it, so after unloading I clean it again while Kitty showers. I cover the bike but not the trailer.
We walk to Cook’s Lobster House from the motel. We both order the Cook’s version of New England shore dinners with mussels, featuring lobster as the main attraction. The only difference is that I want more than a 1¼ pound lobster. I ask about the price and it turns out they are running a special on 4-pound lobsters that makes a 4-pounder cheaper than a 2½ pounder. Thus do I order a 4-pound lobster at Cook’s. The thing comes out and it’s a monster, with a shell much too thick to crack at the table, so the waitress takes it back to the kitchen to have it taken apart.Now lobster is my very favorite food. I enjoy many types of foods, but lobster holds a special place for me. I have to say that this is the very first time I’ve ever eaten as much lobster as I could eat. This monster’s claws are much bigger than my own hands, and the tail itself contains probably half a pound of succulent lobster tail meat. I have to give some to Kitty and she’s not complaining.
Another Cook’s adventure draws to a close until the next time we’re in New England. It’s always a highlight. The fog drapes over the brooding landscape, sometimes intense, sometimes mysteriously receding. The locals are telling us it’s been this way for over a month without a break. Our waitress, Lindsey, had joked “Winter will be here in three weeks. Summer had better hurry up.” I, on the other hand, have made friends with this fog and rather enjoy it as long as it doesn’t affect my driving visibility.
We’ve ridden 231 miles today for a total of 2,159 miles. Our route during the next couple days will likely take us through New England’s mountains on our way home, pending any weather developments that might change our plans.
I feel like rather like Ikon with this excerpt from Beyond Gray Skies:
Far away
Another place
Beyond the stars
Beyond the sun
In my dreams
I have seen the colours
In my dreams
A forgotten world
I actually don’t know our exact route yet or whether it will involve sun. You’ll know when I know. See you then.
GPS Track Log
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