Love Maine. Maine is our 23rd state and is almost totally surrounded by Canada and the Atlantic Ocean. There are two distinct faces of Maine, forests, and sea coast. As I sit here in my office in Milwaukee, Wisconsin I am struck with the realization that there is a higher density of population within a five-mile radius of me here than in the entire 33,414 square miles of the state of Maine. Though I cannot prove it, I will state enthusiastically that there is more ethnic diversity within a mile radius of me right now than in the entire state of Maine. You may not believe this but we actually found a 7-11 type convenience store/ gas station owned and operated by an Anglo Saxon American! No where else in America can you see that phenomena. Maine, where we found a sixty-eight-mile stretch of interstate highway with only two exits and neither of those had services. Maine, home of Baxter State Park, our country's most secluded, restrictive, regulated, and pristine state park, which is also our destination.
Towering over Baxter State Park, 5268 feet to be exact is Mt. Katahdin and 2600 miles south in Georgia they call this the terminus of the Appalachia Trail. In Maine they refer to it as the start. Regardless of who is right or wrong, when our son, Nigel walked the trail he started in Georgia, on Springer MT. And finished here on Mt. Katahdin. This is his tenth year anniversary of his through hike of the Appalachia Trail and we are driving out in Chummy to celebrate. He and his wife, Bridget will be climbing Mt. Katahdin, Fran and I will be babysitting our 9-month-old granddaughter, Jenna. Nigel and I have been planning this trip for over a year, the gals decided to join us several months ago. We decided to make this a family trek and each of us got to choose a place or special sight to visit. Being the dad, I got to choose two.
We left on a Friday afternoon, which if you live North of Chicago is not the best time to leave on a vacation unless you are traveling to Canada. The shortest way to Maine is the southern route but we had all experienced hours of rush hour traffic in Chicago and wanted to avoid that to start our trip so Canada here we come. Nigel and I figured by the maps it would take us about six additional hours to drive through Canada. Fran and I had driven Canada route six before and found it to be a decent road so headed north. Our first day's goal was Sudbury, Ontario where we would sleep for a few hours and then take off again on our drive across Canada. I, however had other plans. Before we left, I took a look at what there was to do in Sudbury and discovered that it was home of the World's Largest Nickel. That's right folks. In Sudbury, ON the very town where we would be sleeping and eating breakfast was the World's Largest 5Cent Piece. How could I deprive my granddaughter from this experience? We would make it to Sudbury regardless of the consequences. So we drove on through northern Wisconsin and into the upper peninsula of Michigan. For those less-traveled let me explain that the upper peninsula of Michigan has long been disputed territory between Wisconsin, Michigan, the U.S. and Canada. Disputed because no one really wants it. Geographically it is not attached to anything but northern Wisconsin and Lake Superior. The terrain is rolling flatness and the scenery is trees, trees, trees. Fortunately we drove this stretch at night and I let Nigel do the driving. We reached Sault Ste. Marie and the border crossing into Canada with my excitement rising knowing that the nickel was getting closer. I took over the driving while everyone else went to bed. The border crossing was uneventful with a welcome to Canada we drove through the check point. I immediately encountered a problem. Is a kilometer larger or smaller than a mile? Newer cars have both MPH and KPH on the speedometer but Chummy is a 1982 and the kilometer had not even been invented yet as far as I knew. The speed limit was 100 kilometers per hour and I was not worried about speeding but Sudbury was almost 400 kilometers away and that did worry me. But that nickel was waiting and I was determined so I set the cruise at Chummy's top speed, 57 MPH, hoping it was under 100KPH. When I went through towns and the speed limit dropped to 60 KPH I felt I was still OK since I was only driving at 57MPH. Needless to say I never passed, nor was passed by another car for almost the entire distance between the border and Sudbury. Those 400 kilometers clicked away with amazing speed and Chummy just purred on. Before you could make change for a quarter, we were pulling into Sudbury. It was dark and I could not see the giant nickel but I felt it was there. We found a friendly truck stop and shut down in their parking lot for a few hours rest.
Saturday morning I was up first, actually Jenna was, and I was quick to tell her that today she was going to see the world's largest nickel. We set off in search of a place to eat breakfast and it only took us 45 minutes to find a restaurant which served breakfast in Sudbury. Before I ordered I asked the waitress if she knew how to get to the giant nickel? She said."huh?" There was another waitress who did know the way and we gave her the tip.
The giant nickel. What can I say? There it was perched on a hill side carved up from a nickel strips mine, one giant nickel, on its end at the end of a parking lot which charged $5.00. It was either Nigel or Bridget who read that this was a top ten tourist attraction in Canada. I said, "huh?" Not that it wasn't worth the stop; I can't say that I will ever get the chance again or for that matter, oh well. We saw it, and had our pictures taken underneath it and for the rest of our lives no one can take that away from us.
Back onboard Chummy we decided that Montreal was doable that night. Nigel was driving and took us all for a tour of Sudbury. We drove through the back streets, the front streets, which looked a lot like the back streets, the middle streets, and the side streets. All the time we kept our eyes on the prize: Canada Route 6 straight ahead. I do not want to offend any Sudburians who may be reading this, you do have some lovely clapboard homes and shuttered storefronts but after awhile we began to wonder if we would ever get out of Sudbury. Then we started to think we were in some kind of revolving, mid-century time warp. Then suddenly the skies brightened, the air cleared, and we saw openness out the front window. Nigel quickly took the exit onto route six and we were on our way to Montreal. If any of you readers are now entertaining thoughts of visiting the world's largest nickel, one of Canada's top ten tourist attractions, let me give you this offer: Take one our photos and paste yourself under the nickel and pretend you have been there. Nigel and I did have fun trying to guess which the other top ten tourist attractions in Canada were if this was one of them. Maybe there is a giant mounted stuffed walleye, or the biggest pile of buffalo dung; whatever they may be, this is one list I think I will avoid trying to see them all.
We were off to Montreal and much to our surprise the road was filled with people also fleeing Sudbury. There was a virtual parade going east and Nigel had no concern as to how he was converting the KPH to MPH, the speed was slow. I soon bored of doing the queen's wave to those lined up on each side of the road and fell asleep. Sometime later I woke to disgruntled sounds coming from Nigel and Chummy. We were following a Trailmaster RV traveling at 30MPH which is about 50KPH for those of you who were wondering. This particular stretch of road is maybe the only stretch through Ontario which is hilly and full of curves. The road is two lanes, with an occasional passing lane on the other side, going west. The Trailmaster became our trailmaster, mile after mile. Any opportunity to pass was stymied by an oncoming car or truck. Behind us was a new parade of cars and trucks, the second one of this young day. Through my mirror I could see that the parade went on as far as I could see. We drove on like this until I eventually became disgruntled as well. I suggested to Nigel he pull off at the next place to get a bite to eat and we would take a break. He gladly pulled off at the next town. We all were happy to rid of that parade. I took over the driving and soon passed our trailmaster who pulled off at the very next stop!
Montreal was only a dream that day, or so we thought. We decided to stop at 4:00 that afternoon regardless of where we were. Let me explain time here. I never change my watch for time zones, for me there is only one time and that is central daylight-saving time.
The road had straightened and traffic had lightened and best of all Canada added two more lanes for us to use. Soon we were in Ottawa and it was 4:00. We stopped for groceries and directions to the nearest RV park. Things were certainly looking up for us when we were told a Provincial park was just a few miles down the road. We drove slowly and looked carefully for the provincial park, which by now you might have guessed we never found. When the sign said: "Accueillir au Québec" we thought maybe we had missed the Ontario park.
Accueillir à Montréal, well almost. After searching for a RV park sign at each exit we finally turned to our computer and our campground finding program. There was a KOA at the next exit and soon we were at their doorstep. Independent campground owners complain loudly about us RV'ers who make use of Walmart and truckstop parking lots but here is the reason why we use them over these campgrounds. At this KOA we were charged $30.00 Canadian which if you paid in U.S. dollars you got no change. There was also an additional $20.00 bathroom key deposit. Then they directed us to a back lot with no facilities, hookups, or pavement. If it had rained that night, we never would have made it out. At least a Walmart parking lot has pavement. We were close enough to hear the karaoke party across the manmade pond which went on into the night. Fortunately we were al tired enough to fall asleep before the last chorus of Blue Moon came drifting across the waters.
After a good breakfast we broke camp and drove toward the welcoming borders of the United States. We all agreed that Montreal is worth another visit and we enjoyed our glimpse of it while driving through. The drive to the border was uneventful. About a half mile from the border the traffic came to a halt. We then began to creep our way back into our own country. Bridget and Nigel got out and visited the duty-free store while we sat and waited. Fran made sandwiches and I struck up a conversation with the folks in the convertible next to us. I am writing this on September 11, and understand that we need to be aware of terrorists but I think the terrorists have actually won. They have taken away our freedom to pass between our friendly neighbors to the north. They have made us so fearful that now two grandparents, along with a mother and father with their baby traveling in a RV have become dangerous to the U.S. So dangerous that we had to be put through a strict interrogation, have our "documents" inspected along with the inside of our RV. This border crossing reminded me of stories I read of communist countries during the height of the USSR or Nazi Germany. No courtesy, no smiles, no welcome to the U.S. just, "how many people are inside? "Give me your documents, I must see everyone's face." The terrorists have won, we are frightened.
We needed a lift after that crossing experience so we made our way quickly to Vermont's #one tourist attraction: Ben and Jerry's. This was Bridget's choice of her place to stop. Vermont does not like the traveler to know where they are going so they do not put up any signs as to which direction you should turn even for their #one attraction. We of course turned the wrong way but enjoyed our tour of Waterbury. Ben and Jerry's is in the opposite direction from Waterbury just in case anyone else is making the journey. The several hours we spent here were well worth the time. We took the tour and learned all about the history and how the ice cream is made and of course we got to sample the flavor of the day. We saw the flavor graveyard and had mor ice cream at the store. This is a happy place as anyplace should be, which makes and serves ice cream.
Our driving goal for this day was New Hampshire and to visit the folks who purchased our Airstream Trailer. With the long border crossing and happy visit at Ben and Jerry's we knew we would not make it down there. I called Andre to express our regrets and he was able to recommend a campground for us. This was no back lot rip off campground but a really nice place to stay. Another KOA, this one is called Quechee/Pine Valley located at White River Junction in Vermont. Their web site is: WWW.koa.com/where/vt/45122. I highly recommend them for an overnight or extended stay. Sadly we did not have more time to spend with them. Even sadder we pulled in late but they stayed up to show us to our site. This was the first trip we pulled our Saturn and this stop was the first good use we had for the toad. The girls drove into town for carry out dinner while Nigel and I set up camp. We knew that tomorrow was going to be a long drive so we decided to break camp early and get on the road so we could make it to our final destination early in the afternoon.
We were well organized this morning. Nigel and Bridget had their tent down and packed in record time. Jenna was fed and while Nigel and I attached the Saturn Bridget helped Fran finish up the inside packing. We were off, driving down the interstate in less than an hour, which included eating breakfast. We were making great time and Chummy was really storming down the road. Nigel was driving and I was enjoying the scenery. When you drive a piece of history, a vintage motor home like ours many people will honk and wave as they pass so I at first thought nothing of the car next to us who were thinking and waving. I waved back. Then Both Nigel and I realized they were screaming the word: "car" over and over. They were not waving but pointing back at the Saturn. Nigel pulled over to the shoulder and stopped. I got out and found the Saturn being towed by just the safety chains. Somehow, the tow bar had come loose from the base plate. On closer inspection I saw there were no cotter pins in the connecting pins. One pin was still in the hole but the other was completely gone. The tow bar was dangling by the hitch. I was shocked and at a loss for words so I yelled for Nigel to come and look. His only words were: " I am sure we put the cotter pins in." We assessed that there was no damage to either the Saturn or Chummy so we took off what remained of the tow bar and put it in the trunk. I drove the Saturn and met them at the next exit. We found directions to the nearest RV dealership and I explained our situation to the part's man. One new connector pin and two new cotter pins cost us $5.15, one hour of lost time and some embarrassment. Nigel still claims that the pins were securely put in but I am certain if we were to return to our camp sight we would find two cotter pins neatly laying side by side waiting to be used. At least we now know the safety chains work.
All was not lost on our detour to the RV dealer we found a nice farm stand and stocked up on fresh vegetables and fruit for the remainder of the trip. Soon we were back on the interstate and on our way out of New Hampshire and into Maine. Our route was circuitous. We started at the top of Vermont and drove down to the bottom of New Hampshire then around into the bottom of Main and back up to Millinocket which is one of the last populated towns in northern Maine. When we first planned the trip, we thought we would just cut across Vermont and New Hampshire and Maine but after talking to a few of the locals we were convinced that the secondary roads were not very good and we best stay on the interstate. I am always going to wonder just how bad that route two is across the mountains and maybe someday will sneak back out here and try the drive for myself. Fran and I normally do not drive on interstates since Chummy does not do interstate speeds and we like to see the local charm and scenery. Today we wanted to make time and we kept Chummy humming at 57 MPH all the way. Aside from a quick stop in Freeport and another in a town with no name for groceries, we made no other stops the rest of that day. Once we left Bangor there really was no where to stop. The interstate had three exits for a stretch of 68 miles and none of those exits had services even if we did want to stop. I remember driving out west and seeing highway signs saying "no services next 50 miles" or so but here in Maine it was every person for themselves. We reached Millinocket without anymore incidents and soon were at our campgrounds.
The next day was the day of the hike, and the reason we drove the thousands of miles to get here. I made mounds of pancakes for breakfast so the young Hadley's could get their fill of carbs before they set out. We all piled into the Saturn and took off to Baxter State Park. The only reason we were not camping there is that motor homes are not allowed in the park. In fact this park has more rules and regulations than the border crossing into the U.S. There even is a check point where you are checked. No pets allowed, only a small number of cars allowed in at a time, each section has a limit as to how many hikers are allowed in the area, everyone must register in and out. The list goes on and on but I will stop here and not bore you with details of how to go potty in the park or what to do with certain other items. We were allowed through the sentry point after paying our fees and registering. Nigel and Bridget registered for the climb up and down MT. Katahdin, fran and I refrained from any sign up sheets at this time but I did buy a book of local ghost stories. Soon we were at the staging area for the young Hadley's to begin their ascent. The plan was that we would all hike together for several miles and then we would take Jenna back down since the law stated no children under the age of ten beyond the tree level on the trails. And I did not need a law to know that no grandpa regardless of age was going beyond the tree level!
The trail started out much the same as the trail on Slinger Mt, Georgia where the Appalachia trail begins. Fran and I had hiked up that trail last year. The trail had a slight ascent, nothing hard and a few rocks. Soon it betrayed us, just like the trail in Georgia, the angle rose up and the rocks were placed everywhere. I simply could not understand why the state of Maine thought they needed to place so many large rocks on all of the hiking trails in this park but they did, maybe for effect or additional scenery. It was not long before I had enough and realized that I was holding the young ones back so we took Jenna and climbed the rocks back down.
When we reached the bottom camp area we met the ranger who was quite happy to see Jenna returned. The ranger was afraid that Nigel was going to try and take her all the way to the top. We assured her that was not going to happen. I then asked her for a recommendation for an easy trail we could hike while we waited the eight hours for Nigel and Bridget. She recommended the trail to Abol Falls, saying that there were just a few small streams we needed to cross. I trusted her since she was concerned about Jenna, and was I ever wrong.
The first river we had to ford on our way to Abol Falls was a rushing torrent tumbling down from the top of Mt. Katahdin. There were several slimey rocks showing their curved tops to us that we were supposedly to use for footholds. I was carrying Jenna in a backpack which had a towering cover on the top so she would be out of the sun. Even with my ample middle I felt I was top heavy; regardless there was no way I could reach down to get my balance. What was needed for this crossing was speed, something I just am not known for but was willing to try. Fran, being the ever good sport and stood fast on the bank of the river, she said: "you go first, I'll watch." So I stepped out on a rock which looked much like the top of my head and before my foot slipped down to the "ear" I had my other foot on another rock deep beneath the surface of the river. Allowing the rushing current to push me forward and reaching out with my newly freed foot, I found a drier surface which allowed me to pull my other foot free from the river's fast grasp. I progressed in this fashion alternating between deep current steps and dry footings and eventually reached the far shore. My feet were drenched, Jenna was laughing at her rollicking, rock and roll ride. Fran was still standing fast on the other shore. I spared her any embarrassment by marching on upward the trail as she forded the river. The trail the young Hadley's were hiking had a steep incline and many large rocks, but this trail also had a very steep incline, large rocks and the added fun of rivers and streams to cross. The state of Maine may have added rocks to the trail to enhance the scenery but they did not bother putting in any bridges so the hiker to casually sit and watch the water rush by below. After climbing several thousand feet through many rivers we reached Abol Falls. Abol Fall is a nice falls as falls go and on a "falls I have seen" scale of 1 to 10 I would rate it 5. There was a nice flat rock to sit on, maybe the only flat rock in this entire state park, and we did take advantage of the flatness to rest before we began our descent.
With Jenna on my back the descent went quicker than usual. We still had several hours before her parents were down from the summit so we loaded her into the Saturn and drove to Dacey Pond for lunch. Dacey Pond is one of many natural ponds and lakes inside this vast park. We found a beautiful picnic and beach area on the shore. Across the pond was a view of Mt Katahdin and the reflection of the mountain filled the pond. We met a young couple from China who were attending the U of Maine and enjoyed talking to them about our upcoming trip to China. There were other families there swimming and picnicking and we had a nice time visiting and relaxing by the pond. I was amazed by the clarity of the water. There were many tadpoles swimming by the pier and we were able to watch them swim through the crystal clear water. We decided to take a path around the lake and started out on wood planks which then ended leaving us walking in ankle deep mud through a bog. This time we were smart enough to turn back immediately. We washed our boots and feet in a pristine stream and watched the mud flow away.
The end of the path we were going to start was behind us so we started walking on the end of the path toward the start with no intention of ending the path in the mud. We hike about three quarters of the way around the pond before turning back. The path took us through a wild blueberry patch and an enchanted pine forest.
When we returned to the trail head to meet Nigel and Bridget, they were still not there. Jenna was sound asleep so Fran and I set up the Lafumas and Fran joined Jenna while I read. After a few hours we met some hikers returning from the summit. I talked to them and asked if they had seen our kids up there. They had not but said the hike was taking a good 8 to 9 hours today. After talking to some more returning hikers and figuring out times we decided to hike up the trail and see if we could meet them coming down. So Fran and I trekked up the trail but we put a 30 minute rule on the hike and stopped after climbing those 30 minutes. Needless to say we did not meet them coming down so we returned to find Nigel hiking up to greet us! They had taken a different trail down and hitched a ride back to our meeting spot. Nigel was excited and full of tales of the hike, Bridget was weary but I think she was happy to have done the hike. I will let their pictures tell the story of their climb up and down Mt. Katahdin. This is considered the toughest climb in the eastern US and the most difficult to be done without rock climbing equipment. Fran and I are proud of both of them for having the stamina and spirit to make this climb.
We broke camp slowly the next day and took a leisurely drive down to Freeport. Everyone had their fill of trees and forests so we left the interstate for the seacoast. The view of the ocean and the charming coastal towns were a welcome scenery change from the vast greenness we had been seeing for days. Nigel and I were on the lookout for a place to stop for lunch. What we wanted was a walk up shack that served fish in a brown paper bag. We did pass several that met that description but none of them had a parking lot big enough for the fifty some feet we were but eventually we did find one that almost met the criteria and had a wonderful lunch. Living in the Midwest we just cannot get good sea food so this was a real treat for us.
On our way to Millinocket we had stopped in Freeport and made reservations at a camp park by a state park on the ocean. This park was a real find and one I highly recommend. Just a few miles outside the hustle and bustle of Freeport is Recompense State Park and connected to it is a private but you might as well say part of the park camp ground also named Recompense. The name comes from the deal with the farm which donated the land to the park and the campground. All of the profits from the campground are given to the farm for donating the land. Our camp sight was nicely secluded and just a short walk from Recompense Bay which is a tidal bay with a ten-foot tide. I was fascinated by this tide, which is another thing we do not have in the Midwest. It was amazing to watch the water empty out of this giant bay to leave just seaweed and mud only to be filled back up that evening. That night I wanted lobster so we all piled into the Saturn and drove into Freeport only to find the restaurants close early in this town. We drove out a way and saw a sign for Cindy's Fish and Chips. Now this was the paper bag shack type place we were looking for earlier in the day so I pulled in. The sign said closed but a man in a sleeveless undershirt walked over and asked what we needed. I replied, "a good lobster dinner." He said all the places were closed then looked at the hungry faces in the car and added he would open the stand and make us some lobster rolls. He then regaled us with the history of his stand, the history of Freeport, his philosophy on life and attitude toward the young people today all this while he made the lobster rolls. His name was Bob Pottle and he made one great tasting lobster roll. Not only did he reopen his stand for us and make the lobster rolls but he refused to take full price for the meal! We added the extra money onto what he charged us and told him to put it in the collection plate on Saturday, since he also told us they were Seventh Day Adventist and not open on Saturdays. If you are ever in Freeport please stop by Cindy's, just north on US Rte. 1
Somewhere on the hike up Mt. Katahdin, Nigel must have promised to spend the day shopping with Bridget in Freeport and that is what they did, all day. Fran and I dropped them off early in the morning with Bridget's eyes as wide and excited as Nigel's were the morning of their hike up the mountain. While they shopped, we lounged and hiked through the state park and around the bay. That afternoon we met them at LL Bean so Fran and I could get in some shopping at one of our favorite stores.
The following day was the start of our return trip. We decided to leave Canada out and stay in the good old USA on the way back. Nigel wanted to see Niagra Falls so we charted a course toward Buffalo and made great time on the interstates that day. That night we camped in the back lot of another campground who overcharged us for the field they gave us to camp in. Walmart parking lots make a lot of sense to me after the treatment we got on this trip. The campground was just outside of Buffalo and we were at Niagra Falls early the next morning.
It was good to see that the falls were still operating as well as they were the last time we were there. This really is a spectacular sight and we enjoyed our walk through the park on the U.S. side. What I did notice this time is there were very few Americans at the falls. There were many tour busses carrying foreign visitors. Could it be there is just not enough excitement here for the typical American tourist?
When we left Niagara Falls all of us were ready to get home so we decided to drive on through, taking advantage of Chummy's large fuel tank, comfortable beds, and our two drivers. This was a wonderful trip. Many miles in a few days and only could have been done with both Nigel and me doing the driving. Bridget and Nigel were great travelers and good company. Jenna was the perfect baby. Somewhere along the road in Michigan Nigel and I started to plan next year's family trip.
