Day 46 – Hermon, Maine

Weatherwise, not a really beautiful day, heavy high clouds with continuous threat of rain, though it really didn’t.  But nice enough to do some touring, which we did!  After breakfasting, walking, doing some minor maintenance and cleaning, we hopped in the truck and headed east toward the coast.  In an hour or so, we were in Bar Harbor (or Bah Hahbah, as the locals call it), fighting our way through the hordes of turistas, many of whom were passengers on a huge cruise liner docked at the pier.  The town is a huge collection of tourist shops and restaurants and, to my eyes, didn’t have anywhere near the charm and beauty of Belfast, Camden, or even Bangor.  We didn’t stop in town, but found an entrance to Acadia National Park and started cruising around the shoreline.  It’s a really beautiful place, with grand views from the road and parking areas.  Geri pointed out that there were hundreds of floats offshore, marking the location of lobster traps.  We stopped a spot called the Thunder Hole, where the waves go crashing into a large slot in the rocks, producing a noise sort of like muffled thunder.  I enjoyed stopping there, particularly because I got a lot of attention and petting from the people around us.  There was a big, black Newfoundland there, also, but he wasn’t getting anywhere near the attention that I was.  Maybe people were afraid of him. 

We cruised through most of the park, enjoying the sights, and we were happy that we hadn’t tried to do it in the coach, ‘cause some of the overpasses would have made it a lot less tall than it is.  Eventually, we got to the Visitor Center, where we had to stop to get the Passport stamped.  What Passport, you ask?  Who needs Passport to go to a National Park?  Well, it’s not really a Passport, it’s more like a record book to show which Parks you’ve been to and when you were there.  I think they’ve been carrying the thing around with them for at least twenty years, and they’ve got stamps in there from all over the country.  Don told me that he put the stamp from Acadia on the same page as one from Sagamore Hill, New York, President Theodore Roosevelt’s home, which they visited in 1999, before I was born.  These guys have really gotten around!

We headed for home after we left the Park, and I got a chance to snooze a bit.  When we arrived back at the coach, I got my dinner while Don searched the internet for clues as to where to get some good lobster bisque in Bangor.  His research took so long, though, that by the time he was finished, they didn’t feel like going into town for dinner.  Instead, they went down to the little restaurant next to the RV Park, and had lobster and crab rolls, plus a little blueberry pie desert.  They told me all about it when they got back, but I wasn’t really that interested.  I got my usual treats, did the blog, and hit the hay.  I understand that we’re finally pulling up stakes here tomorrow, heading south.  Guess they figured out that they can’t go much further north, without Passports (real ones, that is!)  I’ll let you know where we wind up.  Ciao, baby!