Maine Part 1

We set off from Cape Cod heading for northern Maine. There was no rush, so we made brief stops along the way. New Hampshire is just north of Boston. There are outlets at Kittery and after a hot coffee, we diverted from Rte 95 to the more scenic Rte 1.

York, Maine is home to Neddick (Nubble) lighthouse. It was a classic Maine scene, with rocky coast and a churning channel between the lookout and the light. Ogunquit is a popular summer escape, but quiet this time of year. It was hard not to stop in Portland, Maine’s largest city, old seaport and hip, urban enclave. We pressed on a little further and spent the night in Ellsworth, not far from Acadia National Park. Dinner just had to include lobster: sautéed and dipped in butter for me and over linguine for D.

The morning was sleety and cold, and the summer resort town of Bar Harbor was mostly empty, save a coffee shop and a café. We saw the fishing boats in the harbor and many others in dry-dock, wrapped and stored for the winter. From there, we head to Acadia.

The main loop road was closed for the season, but a back portion allowed us to reach the well-known Sand Beach, starkly beautiful in its desolation. We took advantage of the rare opportunity to walk alone on the shore. A short hike ended in sleet, so we pressed on to Thunder Hole, where the sea forces its way through the rock at certain times of day, the rush causing rumbles and crashes that resulted in the name. We had to turn back at Otter Cliffs to head on around the bay at Southeast Harbor. To be continued. . .

For photos, click HERE.

Outermost Cape

The windswept dunes and sandy shores of the Outer Cape hold a special charm in winter. There’s no need to worry about traffic and crowds, and it’s a luxury to have the beaches to yourself. Our leisurely drive began in Yarmouth and bypassed the elbow of Chatham north to Eastham and Wellfleet up along the National Seashore. In Truro, we visited Cape Cod Light (aka Highland Light), which was moved back from the cliff’s edge in 1996 to prevent it from falling into the sea. The lighthouse is surrounded by a golf course. A couple of golfers were just heading out with their clubs to play a round, and they nodded a curious greeting, probably wondering who would choose a blustery January day for a tourist stop.

The beaches on this part of the Cape, especially in winter, always make me want to reread Outermost House, Henry Beston’s chronicle of his solitary year spent in a cottage in the dunes on Nauset Spit, part of Coast Guard Beach.

There are some great walking and bike paths near Provincelands heading out toward Race Point, and we took a walk through the marshland, which was being redeveloped. Provincetown itself was incorporated in 1727, but it’s history is much older. It was the site of the first landing of the Mayflower, and the Pilgrims signed the Mayflower compact in the harbor. Later, Provincetown became the Cape’s whaling and fishing center. MacMillan Wharf is still hopping with fishing boats. Commercial Street was deserted, and we only came across one or two shops that were open for business. Winter seems to highlight P’town’s split personalities: fishing village, artists’ colony, gay-friendly tourist destination. We walked out on the jetty at the west end of town to see the one of the other lighthouses across the bay. Believe it or not, there was another car with Georgia plates parked right in front of us, though we never ran across its occupants.

In the bar at the Governor Bradford, no one was quite sure where might be open for dinner. The local fishermen were having a late afternoon brew, and couldn’t resist asking where we non-locals were from. One had a good time ribbing Donny for a bit, but he stood his ground, and they backed down when they learned I had grown up on the Cape.

Dinner later at Michael Shay's included an all you can eat salad bar, tasty fresh seafood, a professional waiter and a cozy wood-burning stove.

Click here to view some photos.