POSTCARD TO MY CARDIOLOGIST

 

To:

Dr. Narinder P. Bhalla. 

Cardiologist extraordinaire

Riverside Cardiology

Montgomery, Alabama

Hi Doc.

On the reverse is a map of the Carriage Trails at Acadia NP –- 45+ miles of glorious ups and downs with scenic views, fresh air with the scent of Balsam. 

 

We started out on the Parkman Mountain trails which may not have been a great idea.  

 No, put away your stethoscope, I’m fine.  I’m GREAT, just a little winded on the long climbs. (Some of these are much higher and 5x as long as the one I had my heart attack on.) Heck, I was winded on these when I was 65. We rode all week and finished again the last day in the hilly southern end.  We Almost did every mile. I was trying.

The views at the top are worth it.  Couldn’t get Al to take a picture of me leaning over the handlebars gasping (...at the view).  He says ONE picture of me having a heart attack is enough for his portfolio.

Really, I didn’t overdo.  People of all ages and shapes ride here. One guy with an Alpe d’huez jersey has done the “Circle of Death” in the Pyrenees twice, and one little four year old on his own bike seems destined to be great on the downhills.   Most are just casual riders like us or they are friends that get dragged along. We passed one petulant young woman who was declaring "I will NOT climb another hill." Everybody finished their ride and, though they may not think so tomorrow, they are better for it.  I know I am.

Thanks for the great job on the stent, Doc.  See you soon.  I think I’ll bring Al in to see you too.  He says he won’t need the Stress Test.  He’s already had that.

Patty.

This is me ordering another Lobster Roll at Thurston's Lobster Pound.  I insist.  

Beauty shot of the bikes.  Al insists...

A Public Service Message for THE COMMON GOOD

OK, I know.  We have been off the grid in Acadia NP for nearly two weeks and Al is a little behind, but you have to hear this NOW.  
For ten days camping at Seawall CG in the National Park we have been passing this sign just down the road.

Fine, it looks like an entrepreneur has decided to help those of us who are too hungry to wait in line at Jordan Pond House for a Popover fix. We delayed; we usually had somewhere to go in the mornings or we were babysitting the generator.  Finally, near the last day, we stopped by for Popovers, view and WiFi. Wow!  We got all that and more. 

Always read the fine print.

This is the Common Good Cafe operated by and for the soup kitchen of the same name. Explore the link; you will thank me.

The bright sunny dining room was alive with optimism and good spirits. Don't look for a menu; just line up and someone will explain. The fresh popovers, homemade blueberry jam and fresh butter is laid out near the fresh roasted coffee, slow simmered oatmeal and other drinks.  Take what you need. Leave a donation in the box. "Whatever you leave is enough."

 

 Eli (on the right) is a guiding spirit here. John, his lifelong friend, is in the area for a few weeks and, like so many here, is working for the pure joy of it.

Our Popover chef is volunteering his

first day here and handled the morning rush with aplomb.

The point here is good healthy food served to eager tourists in the summer with the profits going to feed hungry Mainers in the "off season" when many are struggling. The feature I love is "Cabin Fever Saturday Nights where families can have an evening meal out together with music and fun activities for very low cost."

We came for the popovers and the WiFi. We found friends and so much more.  If you are camping nearby, make this your spot.  Here is that link again.

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.

NEW DISCOVERY

Perhaps it is the dark brown-stained half log siding and the crisp newly painted shutters on the windows, or the crisp new shingles but Surely it is the window boxes with fresh blooms that marks this as the Best shower we have found among nearly a thousand campgrounds. There are two single showers, freshly painted by someone who cares, spotless, with neatly laminated instruction/suggestions and a breezy air of welcome -- little spa-like refuge in the North Woods.  

We are encamped in an open field “Horse Camp” at New Discovery State Park Vermont.  

 “The horsemen seldom come”, we  are told by the gracious park manager.

“You can swing your rig in there easy.”

We go through the usual – “Airstream? How Old?” dispelling concerns that Airstreamers are a snotty bunch with their “Airstream Only” parks.

 “Alabama? How Long?” dispelling who-knows-what stereotypes and, above all, trying not to be one of the over-torqued folks who arrive at a park anxious and short after a long day of driving.

We either One, pass muster as a pleasant couple and are given a careful selection of superior campsites to choose from or, Two, maybe we are down here in “quarantine” before being released to the general Vermont population.  After setup, we are enjoying our totally bug-free circle of surrounding evergreens, a long pleasant chat with our ranger hosts and we are wondering if it gets any better than this.  Oh yes, thanks for the kind donation of firewood.

Did I mention that the Dump has flowers?  

 Patty is just filling the water here.

 "Sewer stuff" is manly work.

We take a couple short hikes and consider staying the weekend.

  “HORSE WEDDING?”  No silly, the riders are getting married, but the whole of our little paradise is booked for the celebration. 

These ladies were just as surprised as we were about Horse Weddings, but their mounts were better behaved than most campers.

 So we hookup for departure, but not before the hitch jack fails and we have to use all our wiles and a couple tools borrowed from Ranger Don to get on our way.  Then we just high tail it for the Sea, stopping along the way to do some chores and book the last site at beautiful Lamoine State Park just across the Frenchman’s Bay from Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park.

TOWING IN LARGE SCALE

We idled too long in New York and found ourselves with nine days to make our way to Acadia.  The Adirondacks, Vermont and New Hampshire are going to be a blur.  We are traveling on The Rand McNally large scale road Atlas.  We sought advice from Airforums friends and the suggestions were helpful but gave us even more reason to regret moving so fast. 

So we pulled out Rand McNally, cobbled together an off-Interstate route linking as many “Scenic Roads” as the two gentlemen provided.  What could go wrong?

Leaving our Adirondack layover at Lake Durant, we hurried through the rest -- the upper Hudson River, the lovely village of Brant Lake, climbs and curves and glimpses of ponds, tidy brown and yellow signs tantalizing us with new delights just down a side road.   North along Lake Champlain to Crown Point, we lunched at the State Park, climbed the Quadrecentenial Lighthouse adorned with a sculpture of Champlain by Rodin. 

You know that vacationers to Maine say that you can smell the Balsam just as you cross the state line?  Well, from the lighthouse overlooking the bridge to Vermont, you can smell the manure from the factory dairy just across the border and entry into Vermont can be confirmed within a quarter mile with the first placard announcing Vermont Maple Products.

 

 

The Champlain Valley is as green and fertile and as picturesque as any we have seen. Postcard farms, red brick farm houses dating back 250 years, cropland everywhere, Holsteins all under roof, very few roaming the pastures.

This is Great! Rand McNally lead us on!  But as our trail of little green dots dipped Southeast at Bristol and the nicked the Green Mountain National Forest, we hardly noticed our road change from thin red to grey (ominous music here).  We followed the New Haven River past a significant falls with one confirmed topless sun bather.

“Eyes on the road, Mister.”

 The stream got smaller, the in-stream boulders larger and we purely did not notice that the road now slanted upward and had renamed itself Lincoln Gap Road. Now we all know about gaps; those are places where the hiking trails go Up in both directions and the roads go Down. They are narrow and steep and twisty and no place to haul a 7000 pound trailer.  We know this, but the road is well surfaced, except where it’s not and there is no traffic if you ignore that motorcycle whose driver was making that circular gesture near his head.

 We proceeded on.  In lowest gear, the transmission temperature gauge achieved a record number just as we reached the gap and found 60 cars filling the trailhead parking for the Long Trail.  We tipped over the gap and headed down what turned out to be the steep side.  Engine dumping unburned fuel out the tailpipe trying to slow us, trailer and SUV brakes heating up, all of these vapors streaming backward, the propane warning light in the trailer set up a piercing beeping. 

“Well it can’t be the smoke alarm.” (That failed last night and a new 9 volt didn’t fix it)

 “For an occurrence to become an adventure, it is necessary and sufficient for one to recount it.”
― Jean-Paul Sartre

We proceeded on...

Adirondacks in a Capsule

It's nigh on criminal to rush through country as beautiful as the Adirondack Park.  We have been wanting to spend a month (or two) here for a long time, but "we have promises to keep..." 

 At least we can take good advice and visit the Adirondack Museum near Blue Mountain Lake and perhaps a hike or two. 

Lake Durant

campground was a good choice. Rustic, well run, and, they tell me, typical of the scores of great spots in the park.



We were lucky to find that the famous Adirondack Museum (all 32 acres of it) would be open late 'til 8PM tonight and might be convinced to grill us a burger at the cafe overlooking the sunset on Blue Mountain Lake.  Done and Done! 

Even though the Park is all about being outdoors, the museum is a perfect way to soak up the history of logging, camping, and the special intertwining of  town and wildness that makes the park unique.  Also, you get to try out any number of Adirondack resting places. 

Because we were moving fast and not planning in our usual anal retentive way, we left the well-stocked gift shop without one of those detailed maps or a trail guide.  We had only the word of a 76 year old local on the audio tour who assured us that Castle Rock Trail offered a great view and "anyone can do it."  We are going to call this episode "Hiking in Large Scale" 'cause we had only a large scale map that showed us the way to the trailhead.

 It's a loop trail and we took the path "less traveled" since modern kids seem to enjoy yelling at the top of their lungs on the first part of a trail. Insecurity?

 Our trail passed this quiet beaver flowage and by now the kids were climbing, and breathless.

 It was quiet and gentle most of the way, but the last three pitches were hand over hand, root pullers.

 The views were a reward, and appreciated, but where are the burgers?

 On the way back, we wandered the overhangs and little rocky rooms that gave the castle its name.