Maine Chance

Lamoine State Park was a lucky chance.  We were moving across Vermont at a spirited pace looking for a stopover town that could help us with our chores – groceries, prescriptions, headlight replacement, propane fill, haircuts, laundry, various hardware items.  We needed more than a village; we needed Super Wal-Mart.  (Who knew you could get a haircut at Wally World?) 
With most of that accomplished (and full of shame for shopping there…but where else can you fit an Airstream in the barber’s parking lot?), we pulled up our planning tools and found a State Park with ONE remaining spot for two weekend days. Sold. Thank you, Christine for working with us.
Lamoine SP is across Frenchman’s Bay from Bar Harbor Maine and the Acadia NP. Turning off busy route 3, we could feel the road tension slipping away. We passed the stone and wrought iron fencing and slipped up to the check in station just as the sun slipped below the trees. While lovely Christine completed our paperwork, a pair of BMW touring bikes pulled in, their riders clad in black and yellow leathers.  We agreed quickly that Steve and Helen could share our campsite for the customary fee – they had to tell us about their trip.

There was a dazzling display of camp making virtuosity as the ’Stream and their tent settled in just before the last glimpse of sunset.  Tonight was the “Super Moon” and it was climbing as we said good night.


These two are well into 6200 miles on this venture.  OK, he shows it a bit more , but Helen was pushing Harley’s back when Steve was riding 10 speeds.
They have a rich life together and a lot more miles to ride.










Of course, our tongue jack problems did not cure themselves overnight, so it was a day of wrangling parts, tools and a little colorful language before we had secured the three bolts and one butt splice required.
 The Airstream garnered an unusual amount of commentary here, so between times we conducted tours.  This bright spirit was hardly ten, but had Airstream dreams “after I hitchhike Europe my senior year.”
But I said Lamoine was a lucky chance.  Just when our allotted two nights were up, Christine found us a non-reservable waterfront site.  WOW, this is our view.

 
Our neighbors brought us a bucket of clams dug right before our eyes (and totally sent us to the Google to figure how to cook ‘em).
And yes, there is a new dump and, yes, it has flowers, lots of flowers.