Day 4

Morning bath

Today we woke up knowing we wouldn’t be getting showers. On top of this, the sinks in the bathroom are the type that don’t stay on unless you keep your hand on the faucet. The only good thing was that the water was so cold that it made up for the inconvenience. So a sponge bath would have to do, and it does do the job.

I mean, you do feel significantly cleaner after washing your face and arms and dunking your head under the water. The thing I hated was after you cleaned up you have to spray the bug spray all over, otherwise you’re breakfast for these guys. I love that lemony smell early in the morning. Then on top of lemons is the beach smell of suntan lotion, it just makes you want to go wash again.

Bar Harbor

We headed for Bar Harbor for a little breakfast. There was something going on in town today for the holiday. People were beginning to line the streets with their chairs and it was looking like there was going to be a parade.

We drove around looking for a parking place, and finally found one on the outskirts of town. We followed everyone else toward town and came to a point where we both smelled food. We turned around and there was a restaurant there on the corner. We went in and they miraculously had a table for us.

We sat down and our waiter, who was obviously not from this country, eventually came. He didn’t understand anything I was saying. I had to point to the item I wanted on the menu. It was funny. I asked him where he was from and he said Spain. Sergio told him he was from Italy and the two spoke to each other in Italian for a bit. He kept asking us if we wanted bagels, “Begls? You want begels?” Took me a few times to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

The service was slow, but not as bad as the place in Wiscasset. All the people working were running around frantically, sweat pouring down their foreheads. I asked the host what was going on today and he replied, “Everything!”

Like clockwork, as soon as we paid our check, the music started in the street. The Bar Harbor Forth of July parade had begun. We joined the people crowding the sidewalks and watched every group known to man in Bar Harbor drive by.

This was the first parade of this kind I’d seen, or, at least, remember seeing. People driving by at five miles per hour throwing candy and spraying water on you. The Shriners were stealing the show though—they’re supposed to be very big in Maine. They came in waves.

First was a group in go-carts. They formed large loops, continuously driving around in circles and skidding around coming only feet from the onlookers. Some people vacated their ring-side seat for fear they would get skid marks on their shins.

The next group came in miniature tractor trailers and miniature boats. Then back to the stripped down go-cart but now they had a car with a track on top of it for the go-carts. The go-carts would drive up on top of the car on this track then down the other side, the kids liked it I guess. Our Spanish waiter from the restaurant kept rushing out to take pictures of them.

In between the Shriners were other local groups: the police, fire department (including the bagpipes), ambulances, park rangers, little league teams, restaurants, radio stations, drama clubs, bars, retail stores, men who still drive Model As and Ts, men who play five instruments at once in the bed of a pick-up truck, the usual supply of clowns, and, of course, the beauty queen to head the parade.

I don’t remember who they had for this parade, maybe Miss Maine or Miss Acadia or perhaps, Miss Mount Desert Island, who knows. This parade was true Americana, something which both Sergio and I had never experienced before. This all reminds me of a joke by Dennis Miller: The Russians have their May Day parade where they roll out the missiles and war machines. Probably, like us, they only see clips from our celebrations, which is why they probably think our biggest threat comes from a 50-foot floating Underdog balloon.

After an hour we decided to walk to the end of the street. Once we arrived there I could see our car a block or two away and the end of the parade was just turning the corner. It was about 11:30 by now so we headed for the car, it was getting hot out now and I could feel the sun beginning to do a number on me.

Cadillac Mountain

We headed for the Park Loop Road and Cadillac Mountain. We started up toward the summit, stopping along the way at a few overlooks. These are unique mountains because they are not covered with forest. The plants that do live on these mountains are small shrubs, at most. We explored one of the points on the side of the mountain before reaching the top.

We walked over the granite surface, sitting for a moment far above Eagle Lake. We could see the entire island from up here, trace out its extremes and find all the other islands that lie beside Mount Desert Island. We finally made it to the top of the 1,530-foot summit, the highest peak on the US Atlantic coast. The view from the top was similar, but now we could see the other side of the mountain and the town of Bar Harbor, where undoubtedly the celebrations were going on as we gazed from high above.

We walked around for a while, but had spent so much time hiking around the lower overlook that we took a look and left. The view was nice though. To the south was the ocean and the many small islands that shelter Mount Desert Island from large waves. In every other direction was Maine; forest with the occasional mountain popping up out of the glacier-flattened landscape.

Loop Road

Our next stop was at the Precipice Trail, a trail leading up to a cliff that makes up Champlain Mountain. The trail was closed because of the return of an endangered species of bird. The Peregrine Falcons have taken up residence on the cliffs of the mountain, and the park service doesn’ want anyone disturbing them. In the parking area is a sign with all the information about the birds one might see in the air around the cliff. They are shown in silhouette so you can recognize them in flight. We saw the falcon and several other birds, but not the Bald Eagle, as advertised on the sign.

We kept going on the loop road, eventually making our way out to the east coast of the island. We stopped briefly hoping to see some puffins or seals, but we only saw the ever present seagulls. They were harassing the people who were having a picnic on the huge granite boulders that are the beach. The seagulls even approached us with hopes of a treat. One was standing on a rock just below us making noise, trying to keep our attention. He wasn’t getting anything from us, so he took off into a large, graceful circle landing next to us 10 feet away from where he took off. His patience wore quickly though, so he flew away.

Quoddy Head

We continued on and drove the rest of the loop back to Cadillac Mountain and the Visitor Center. We weren’t staying the night in the park, so it was time to get on our way. We drove out ME 3 back to “the mainland.” Once in Ellisworth, we continued going north on US 1—anything to get away from all the people.

We were heading along the coast to the eastern-most part of Maine. The traffic was thinning out finally. Once we got to ME 138 we slipped off route 1 for a bit and headed for Lubec and Quoddy Head State Park. This is the eastern-most piece of land in the lower 48, only to be outdone by the tiny islands in the Aleutian Island chain in Alaska that cross the 180th meridian.

We decided to head for the park and check it out. We parked the car and walked a bit on a trail that runs along the edge of a cliff that is high above the water. This area is just as beautiful as Acadia, if not more. It is more isolated and really gives you a sense of the end of the US. A long island can be see in the distance but it is part of Canada, everything east of here is Canada.

The water is strange here. We really are in the Bay of Fundy and not too far from here, so says Rand McNally, is the largest whirlpool in the Western Hemisphere. What this means, I don’t know, but I do know that the water does not flow like a typical body of water around here. The water seems to flow without direction, as if it is not moving. There is also an extreme difference in tides in this region.

We hiked along the trail for a bit among the moss-covered forest overlooking the clear blue water and the dark granite. This was a beautiful park but, unfortunately, no camping. So we went into Lubec to look for a place for dinner. We ended up in an older section on the edge of town, a piece of the town that the town has forgotten about. Clearly, no one but those who live here uses the roads in this part of town anymore. Only fisherman occupy the old, dirty houses along this road. The water in the small bay that separates the two countries is the back yard for those on the east side of the road.

Again people were lining up alongside the road. We decided to eat in a tired, old place that was empty when we walked in. The young woman told us to sit anywhere. It was like entering these people’s dining room. A few of the locals were in and out in the place, smoking and talking about the things people talk about in this part of the world.

We ate and I asked the waitress/host/daughter of the owners/cooks what was going on in town tonight. She said there was going to be a Shirttail Parade and fireworks later. By now, the sun was low in the sky and with only two options for camping in the area, we decided to try the one in Canada since I overheard the locals talking of a forest fire in Dennysville, which is where the nearest park with camping is in Maine.

We drove back through town but the streets were already lined with people and closed by the police. The cop asked me where we were going and I told him we wanted to get to Canada. With the parade slowly making its way toward us, he radioed ahead to another cop and then told us to drive on through. I thought it would be funny to drive slow and wave to the people, but these cops probably don’t see enough action to get away with just a roll of the eyes, they would have probably taken us downtown, which, by the way, is only half a block away from wherever you are in town.

Campobello Island

We passed without incident over a bridge and into Canada. I need only show a form of ID but Sergio has to go through the whole interviewing and stamping the passport routine. We were looking for the Herring Cove Provincial Park. The province, by the way, is New Brunswick, and the island we were on was Campobello Island.

The island is small—10 miles long, and 3 miles wide. It is also in the Atlantic Time Zone, so it was now an hour later. It would be odd to have sunset at 9:30 p.m. and darkness finally set in around 11 at night, but I suppose they get used to it.

We found the park, registered, unpacked the stuff, and put up the tent. We wanted to see the fireworks tonight. It turns out that Lubec and Campobello have joint festivities. From June 24 to July 4 both towns participate in frog jumping contests, a dart shoot, bingo, lip-sync contest, beauty contests (for men and women), beautiful baby contest, watermelon and blueberry pie eating contest, and many other activities topped off by the fireworks in Eastport, Maine which are scheduled for tonight.

Once darkness set in, we headed over to the western part of the island to see the fireworks. We were one of the first there and sat on the rocky beach, they don’t have sand around here. The sun was going down over the eastern parts of Maine. The bugs were annoying even with the bug spray.

By the time the show started the beach was filled with people and kids running all over the place. Fires lit the beach and dogs roamed around. The show lasted a while and it was getting cold, it was no longer shorts weather out here. We were looking to go after about an hour but someone parked our car in. No one seemed to know whose van was blocking us but all were sympathetic.

Eventually Sergio was able to wedge the car out with the help of another person but some old lady was blocking the way in the parking area, which was actually the Deer Isle Ferry parking area. We eventually got out as soon as everyone else decided it was time to go home. We went back to camp and hit the sack. Heard more owls tonight. This would be the first night of my life I’ve spent out of the United States, interesting thought.