Bangor to Bar Harbor

Well, we managed to go a whole day without drinking any beer.  Somehow.

We covered a lot of ground and saw a lot of brewpubs — it is Maine, after all — but we didn’t settle in for a pint, even to share.  Here’s what we did do:

On the Waterfront Trail in Bangor

Jen and I satisfied our suspicions that Bangor is a walking-friendly city by following two separate urban paths, the Kenduskeag Stream Trail and the Waterfront Trail, only to discover that a tiny sliver or our morning walk was also a tinier sliver of the East Coast Greenway.

And the East Coast Greenway

The Greenway connects 15 states. After this morning’s walk only 14 more to go!

As it turns out Bangor is more than friendly, It is a borderline fanatical stalker of walking.

To our benefit, of course. We are walkers.

Jen and I managed to do all that — and to not stop in for a pint at the Sea Dog Brewery on the waterfront — by 10 am, and we got everyone out of our downtown Bangor loft by 10:30.

This gave us plenty of time for adventure as  we explored more of Downeast.   We got to Mount Desert Island well before it was time to check into our new accommodations, so we sidled up to the Acadia National Park Visitors Center,  then  hit downtown Bar Harbor for some pizza.  And even then we still had time for adventuring before Air B’nB would be ready for us.

First we hit one of the crown jewels of the park, the vertiginous Beehive Trail, with its steep climbs aided by iron rungs, railings and bridges.  This was a little too much to bite off the last time we were here.  Lanie was six and much more likely to fall off than she is today.

The warning sign at the trailhead is bracing but   we all took to the trail like we had sticky spider powers.  Nadia was most of the way up before she realized how little she liked where she was.

Jen navigates an iron bridge.

The views from the top — actually there are views all throughout the trail if you look up from the iron rungs — took in the green of the trees, the grey of the rocks and the blue of the ocean, with dramatic waves of white fog closing in dramatically over the islands to the northeast and encroaching on Great Head and the Sand Beach.

 

By the time we made it down the back way, via the gentler Bubble Trail, we were hot enough to brave the Maine waves.  We joined a surprising lot of people in the frigid water for a late-afternoon cool down. Happily, the fog seemed to hold off from the beach and we enjoyed the warm sun as soon as we got out of the water.

Not a bad way to pass the time before our rooms were ready.

The evening was calmer.  We moved into  the second floor of a victorian close to downtown Bar Harbor.  The place is also a short walk to a supermarked where we provisioned with lunch items and even fixings for a dinner in.   Follwing that, some of us took advantage of the low  tide and walked across the sand bridge in the harbor to take in the sunset, along with a few score of our fellow tourists and a deer that apparently decided it didn’t want to be on Bar Island anymore.

On the sandbar

Still no beer, though we did pass an open brewpub on our way downtown for ice cream.  And while some of us stayed behind for the sandbar walk, everyone was in for the ice cream trek (though Jen eventually decided she’d rather get something from a bakery we passed).  I got homemade Maine blueberry softserve.

And off the island

College-bound

Though we have found Bangor, ME, to actually be quite a bit nicer than we expected, it’s not so action-packed a place that we felt the need to operate at our usual death-march vacation pace.  So, it was 10:45 before we rolled out of our rental apartment and headed north to Orono, to finally check out the place where Zoe will be living in about three short weeks.

Zoe and I had visited the campus once before — during a cold, rainy, muddy day in March just as everything was shutting down — and the rest of the family hadn’t seen it at all, so we were looking forward to visiting on a nice summer day.  The campus didn’t disappoint, although the ghost-town level of emptiness was a bit eerie.  We were able to locate (though not enter) Zoe’s dorm, nearest dining hall, and the locations of the limited number of in-person classes that she’ll have.  (At the moment, her schedule is over half remote, but luckily she does have at least some in-person classes.)  The one building we were allowed to go inside was the Center for the Arts, because the museum of Native American art and artifacts was open.

Skipping stones on the Stillwater

The campus runs along the Stillwater River, which provided a lovely peaceful spot for an afternoon walk.  The nearby downtown, though about the same size as Durham, managed to offer several dining choices — and most of them were NOT pizza!  We saw at least three brewpubs in Orono (and several more within walking distance of our apartment in Bangor).  We’re not sure why Durham seems unable to pull this off.

Ice cream break at the Family Dog

 

Fortified with a long day’s walking (as well as burgers, local beer, and ice cream), we had one last stop to make before returning to the apartment.  A short walk away from our downtown Bangor apartment is the famous home of Stephen King.  Just in the brief time we were there, on a random Tuesday afternoon, we saw several other groups coming to stroll down the historic street and peer through the iron gates at the King mansion.  In addition to the cool gates, the main attraction is a carved stump that is supposed to represent a lot of King’s books.

Our neighborhood has lots of nice options for dinner.  Tonight we chose a noodle shop that the kids had seen on our way in.  After stuffing ourselves with noodle bowls, we felt the need for a good long walk (or at least, most of us did — there was a small contingent that instead felt the need to lie on the couch and watch TV).  Our main observation was that Bangor has a lot of hills.  In a few places we thought we were back in San Francisco.

 

Is this a lovely European piazza? No, its Bangor, Maine!

 

Un-sequestration day #1

We are still trying to follow safe practices, and we have not actually been completely sequestering in our house for quite some time, but this is our first blog-worthy, whole family adventure since Nadia’s big birthday trip. We’re in another state, even.

Maine obligingly lifted quarantine orders for New Hampshirites several weeks ago.

Aside from escaping cabin fever, we are also are planning to acclimate ourselves to Zoe’s soon-to-be new home on the U Maine Orono campus.  Jen and Zoe are the only ones who have seen the campus; they squeezed in a visit mid-March just as the school was shutting down.

Before we could get there, we undertook some retail therapy, and maybe even below-retail therapy at the outlets in Freeport.  The LL Bean factory outlet, Old Navy, and the Nike store all benefitted from our visit.  We also managed to visit our first microbrewery of a trip that promises many more microbreweries.  Maine likes its craft brew.

This broke the drive up into nice, manageable chunks.  An hour-and-a-half to Freeport; a few hours of shopping; then an hour-and-a-half drive to our final destination of the day: Bangor.  Aiding the drive was  a very ineresting RadioLab episode about the long-term effects of the 1918 Pandemic.  Did you know that both Ghandi and Hitler got career boosts from the Spanish Flu?

Bangor turns out to be charming city combining aspects familiar to us from our stomping grounds of Dover and Portsmouth.  It’s a fair bit grittier than Portsmouth and a few notches hipper than Dover.

Texting whoopie pie menu and expecting a rapid response

Dinner on Bangor’s Market Square. The restaurant makes its own beer.

Bangor lumps both those places together, with an ample sprinkling of microbreweries — we’ve found four here without really trying — and a mix-in of whoopie pies.

Jen has found us a nice, central Air Bn’B apartment, and later she figured out how to text the whoopie pie bakery menu to the girls and collect their order.  (I opted for the “Down Easter,” which has molasses cake and blueberry cream filling.)  Jen’s a hero of this trip.

She was rewarded with a round of Terraforming Mars before road weariness took its toll on all of us.

Tomorrow we visit Orono.

Sequestration Day #46

Today’s pleasant surprise was the “We love our Seniors” sign delivered by the school district.  The less pleasant surprise was that we’re still running our woodstove on the last day of April.  At least we still have wood left to burn.

We got back into the swing of our Quarantine Game Tournament with a round of Carcasonne (it’s not important who came in second).

Daisy seems to have taken a walk.  Good stuff.

Sequestration Day #45

It should have been Spring Break week, but the schools have powered through in favor of an early June end date.  Our plans for break (Arizona — Zoe and Jen; also Arizona — Nadia; and Williamsburg for the rest of us) were not happening anyway.

In a moment of reflection on past travels, Zoe pulled out an Inca Cola from the big Peru service trip of two years ago.  Last year she and Jen were in China at this time.

Of course, there is only so much time one can spend reflecting on past trips when there’s cello to be practiced.

 

Sequestration Day #44

Room rennovation complete.  Next Lanie is setting her sights on cleaning out the basement.  We will have our hands full when Savers and the Swap Shop open up again.

AND, she and her sister Zoe made homemade pasta for dinner — much easier to do now that we have flour.

 

 

Sequestration Day #42

Theoretically, there’s an actual eagle in this picture.

It’s cherry blossom seaon at the old town landing.  We are fortunate to have such a nice place to walk.  Twice this week we’ve seen a bald eagle flying around.  They’re tough to photograph, though, even when I remember the camera.

Sequestration Day #41

We can still consider ourselves sequestered even after a trip to Wagon Hill Farm, because the trails tend to be wide, and in the woods they don’t seem to mind if you step off between the trees to let someone else pass by.

Daisy is prone to socially distancing from other dogs anywat, so we don’t wind up next to people that much. This week we got to the park early enough for “off-leash” hours.