Acadia: Part Deux

Day 2:

Crows yawped before the sun peaked through the pines on which they roosted above our tired heads.  Not to be outdone, the ubiquitous white throated sparrow joined in soon thereafter.  The campsite was bustling before 8 and we were on our way to focus our efforts to the North and East. 

 

Cadillac Mountain was a top priority.  Given the availability of a road to the peak, we took it and saved up our tired muscles for another hike later in the day.  The moving abyss looming out my window made me queasy on the switchback road up the mountain, and the view were great.

And then… the hoards.  We were not prepared for the swarms of Homo sapiens plaguing the mountain top.  It was a beautiful day on a weekend, and so I’m not sure why we thought it would not be crowded, and I think the reality is that we didn’t really think about it, but to be confronted with it after such a beautifully solo experience the day before was a bit of a psyche shift.  Again, though, the views!  Oh the views!  We were glad to not have hiked up. 

It occurred to us as we dropped elevation down into Bar Harbor that these people on vacation were also taking a holiday from following basic traffic laws.  Countless close-calls and distracted dim-wittedness put us even more on edge.  We were really not here to see people.  Happy to be parked, we had an early lunch on the edge of the main thoroughfares and rebounded.  A quick walk through the cuter-than-expected souvenir-filled town and before you could say lahhbstahhh roll, we were out of there.  The tight muscles needed to be stretched.

Nitwits plagued us still on the loop road and the hoard stymied our attempts at swimming at the ocean beach, but we muscled our way into seeing Thunder Hole in hopes of a little drama.  No drama.  Quiet hole.  So, on to Gorham Mountain where the parking lot was crowed, but thankfully primarily for the ocean cliff walk located in a completely different direction.  Breathing a sigh of relief as a big group moved off with a ranger toward the ocean, we took to the wood.

A 1.8 mile round trip, Gorham Mnt. Trail was listed as moderate, so, again, we looked forward to a fairly easy hike.  Sharing the exposed rocky trail with only a handful of groups was a welcome afternoon escape.  Mostly exposed bedrock, the trail was expertly constructed with boulder steps exactly where we needed them.  Cairns marked our path over large-crystalled lichen covered granite.  Blueberries and mosses clung to thin soils bridging outcrops.  Cranberries nestled in the crevasses.  The forager in me enjoyed the tasty fruits of the trail, but S was hesitant.  Apparently, I was Eve tempting him with the tasty globes.  I didn’t care.  They were sun-kissed and delicious.  He was missing out.

Home again home again to grilled chicken thighs and potato/onion/pepper pockets, gin and tonics and waiting for the stars.  A quick ¼ mile drive to the rocky shore and we were in star-heaven.  The fractured rocks couldn’t have been more comfortable with that view of billions and billions of stars above. The Milky Way swooped across the sky providing for most of the light in the moon-less sky.  Satellites and planets nestled into the nooks and crannies and binoculars exposed  mini-constellations hiding in the velvety dark.  Shooting stars from all angles drew tangents across the sky.  With the sound of the surf, and a small breeze keeping the bugs away, it was incredible.

 

Off to Boston the next day via York, ME, and home again home again for real.  Two thumbs up. 

A note:  Now in Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada, and man... what an opposite sort of experience.  Hopefully, I'll have time to throw something together about this trip soon.  For now, the memories of Maine make for a peaceful escape.