We spent months preparing for the Main(e) event
A few months ago, Jess, Tessa, and I were dreaming of how to escape our bleak winter surroundings. Well, they were trying to escape winter. To put it succinctly, I was channelling all of my energy into not losing my sh*t. My life felt utterly in pieces this past winter, from fresh heartbreak and apartment lease limbo to my childhood home hitting the market, ailing grandparents, academia's funding collapse, my therapist on maternity leave....you get the picture.
As two of my closest friends, J&T (correctly) surmised that planning a trip would be a great outlet for my various LARGE feelings. And the Maine roadtrip was born! In late July, we put my color-coded spreadsheet to the test and headed north.
The drive, rather remarkably, was pretty easy! It took us ~11 hours in total, and we were only nearly rear-ended once during a sudden stop on the Jersey turnpike. Gravy has certainly had plenty of practice being the ideal roadtrip companion, and the time passed quickly in a flurry of yapping, singing, playing games, and cooing over Gravel's low purrs.
Speedbump #1: Jess and I planned to dine at Eventide Oyster Co. in Portland that night while Tessa was busy losing her voice at the concert. I'd read rave reviews and loved the look of the menu, though I always get a little suspicious of places that don't accept reservations. The threatening sky that had so far held off on the rain opened up as soon as we headed for dinner (but of course!) and when the hostess told us (exhausted, dripping wet, starving) it was currently a 90 minute wait, Jess & I knew we were going to have to pivot. Across the street, a darling little neon-lit sushi bar named Mr. Tuna beckoned. (If you go, you HAVE to try Blackbeard's Delight. I'm still dreaming about it!)
A Day in Portland
The next day, we set out to actually explore Portland. We began with breakfast at Miss Portland—an adorable local diner in a restored Worcester diner car. The setting alone is enough to pay Miss P a visit, but the food was also delicious! Standout favorite was the buttermilk pancakes with fresh Maine blueberries, of course.
After breakfast, the three of us puttered around old town Portland, stopping at Sherman's Books, Mainely Frames, and several other of the cute shops that surround the wharf. Tessa scored a lobster sweater (because...duh), I bought a dress, some books (naturally), and a funky retro storybook art print that caught me totally by surprise in the endless basement of the map shop.
We also stopped in a place called Strange Maine, and boy was it. The music was vaguely reminiscent of being in a whale's womb and the oddities on the shelves weren't quite compelling enough for me to warrant spending significant time there, though Jess did end up with some packs of retro baseball cards.
After a solid afternoon spent napping in front of Murder She Wrote in our Airbnb, we rallied to head to Fort Williams—home of the iconic Portland Head Light.
We walked along the cliff just as the sun was starting to set and had to stop every few feet to marvel at the brilliant expanse of blue. Though the lighthouse and museum was closed by the time we got to the park, we still got to enjoy the view and park our hinies on the top of a breezy hill as the sunset to tuck into our next couldn't-miss Maine delicacy: lobster rolls.
Two Nights in Acadia
I swear Gravy is in this photo, too
Speedbump #2: Last year, I spent five weeks camping in national parks as I road tripped across the country with my cat. (Re: trying to cope with my life falling to pieces.) Gravy & I camped in the snow at the Grand Canyon, slept with the bison in the Badlands, fell in love with Montana's sky, and tried to avoid rattlesnakes in Amarillo. Through it all, even at the Grand Canyon, I never felt crowded. So that gave me an entirely unrealistic expectation for our time in Acadia during peak summer.
To put it simply, it was a NIGHTMARE trying to get around the park. We couldn't take any shuttles from the campground because they don't allow pets (understandable) and parking was utterly impossible to find. On that Tuesday, we had planned to hike from the Bubbles around Jordan Pond, stopping halfway through at the famous teahouse for popovers, before heading to setup our campsite. (I was particularly proud of this plan that incorporated hiking & snacking, our two top park activities.)
We arrived at the park before 9:30AM and found not a single free parking spot. We spent over 90 minutes listlessly driving in circles behind tour buses and other people desperate for spots before giving up. It was still too early to set up our campsite, so we decided to continue aimlessly driving around, Bar Harbor also being quite crowded and nigh-impossible to find a parking spot.
We were driving on the road that stretches towards Northeast Harbor when we discovered an open parking lot nestled by a rocky cove! We cooled off by wading and skipping stones over the calm water. (The next day, hungry for s'mores and lacking the proper supplies, we popped into a small grocery store in Northeast Harbor. That town is just as picturesque as Bar Harbor and not nearly as crowded. I'm sure it has far fewer restaurants and stores and things, but well worth exploring when you're tired of the crowds.)
We decided to try our hand again at popovers and, another mercy, found a rare parking spot in the lot by the teahouse! Things were looking up when we encountered Speedbump #3: the teahouse was jammed with people (the theme of Acadia, turns out) and their signage was nearly nonexistent, so everyone was all kinds of confused. You could sit at a table on the lawn for their full service restaurant, if you were willing to wait 2 hours. Or you could go upstairs to their roof deck restaurant that usually has sandwiches, salads, and other to-go lunch items, but, turns out, only had popover sundaes that day. There was also a champagne bar(?) somewhere...?
Needless to say, we were all overstimulated and underfed, Gravel was tired of being in her backpack, and we did not stay long at the adorable-in-theory Jordan Pond Tea House. We did get to sample their famous popovers, though! I found them underwhelming, TBH, but I can't tell if the frazzled energy of the day is clouding my judgment.
Catching the earliest sunrise in the U.S.
That little speck of orange is Jess getting much closer to the edge than Tessa & I cared to, TYSM
Trying to soothe Gravy, who was upset AF about being awake so early
On Wednesday, my alarm went off at 3:15 AM. Using an alarm while camping was already jarring enough for me—I prefer to sleep with the rain cover off so dawn rouses me. The special combination of the ungodly hour, the cold air, and trying our best to not wake our neighbors while we desperately made some hot chocolate made for a very...unique morning. Spoiler alert: it was worth it!
Seeing the sunrise from the top of Cadillac Mountain has a long tradition for the people who have inhabited Acadia for generations, the Wabanaki people. Wapuwoc, the name by which the Wabanaki people know the mountain, is the tallest point along the Atlantic Coast in the U.S. and the first place in the continental U.S. to see the sunrise, at least from October to March.
The experience of being on top of Wapuwoc at dawn was incredibly moving, even with gentle cloud cover blowing in from the ocean. The entire crowd of strangers huddled together in small groups under blankets was awed by the sight, you could feel it. A hush fell over us all when the sun first appeared, and there were audible gasps of wonder. It was entirely worth the stupid-early wakeup call and one of my absolute favorite memories from the entire trip.
Some brave people get up even earlier than Jess, Tessa, Gravel, & I and hike the summit to watch the sunrise. I have no doubt that experience is incredibly moving and worthwhile. The four of us chose to try our hand at securing car tickets to the summit road for sunrise and snagged 'em over a month in advance.
We joined the crowd admiring the famously clamorous slap of Thunder Hole along the path, but otherwise enjoyed little company on the trail. For the first time in Acadia, I didn't feel surrounded by people. Each vista was more beautiful than the last and we made quick, delighted work of the ~4 miles.
Of course, it was only fitting that we then encountered Speedbump #4. After hiking, we'd planned to spend the afternoon lounging on Sand Beach—one of the only sandy beaches in the area. It happened to be the hottest day of the trip, so we were so ready for the sweet relief of a dip in the ocean. We dropped our hiking gear, grabbed our towels, and wound our way down the brambly path to the beach, only to encounter a large "NO PETS" sign at the very edge of the sand. I swear Gravel and I both gasped in surprise.
Turns out, when I had done all of my careful research in planning our trip during the winter, it was during the time of year when pets are allowed on the beach, so the very helpful National Park website was correct in telling me she was welcome! But from June through September, pets are not allowed. Alas!
We decided to return to camp, after making a stop at the highly recommended Sunrise Cafe in Bar Harbor. How could I go all the way to Maine without trying a slice of their legendary blueberry pie?! I'm still thinking about it, TBH. We devoured our slices at camp and the four of us promptly crashed into lovely, leisurely naps—Tessa and Gravel cuddled together in the tent, Jess fell asleep in her hammock, and I conked out on a large towel underneath the shady trees.
Acadia, you were beautiful and I do so hope to return one day soon...in the OFF season.
Next up from Maine: Meeting PUFFINS
