Just Raven

We’re back. We had some of the best fun any of us have had in a long time. Its always kind of sad to leave such fun behind. Leaving around 1 am Saturday to an unknown destination was worth the time we spent worrying about where we would sleep. I’ve learned not to worry about such petty things. Who needs sleep? There will plenty of time to catch up on that later…Driving north into Maine, we decided to go to Bar Harbor.

Driving for what seemed like forever, we laughed and argued and gossiped and talked gurl stuff…then suddenly we were right at the doorstep to Acadia National Park. We arrived at 6:30am. First things first- hit the ladies rooms and get a bite to eat and some COFFEE (Irish of course).

It’s a big area up there. Bar Harbor and Acadia are in the same region, same towns. To the west is the park- with big mountains and hiking trails and huge rock cliffs to climb. And lots of snowmobile trails. To the east is the ocean. Best of both worlds. Penobscot Bay connects the park to the ocean. Bar Harbor is a tourist attraction in the summer; in the winter it is pretty much abandoned. Its also a fisherman town. Not the deep sea types…but the commercial types. I didn’t know that. And I didn’t know that they go out, way out, in the middle of the winter. A bunch just came back, the town folk were saying. (Are they crAzy, I thought? Talk about Perfect Storm. Who in their right mind would dare disturb the North Atlantic in February? New England fishermen, thats who.)

We went to the hiking trails. The sights to see were almost unbelievable. The fog banks roll in almost daily some of the locals told us. Those weren’t fog banks. They were waves of fog. And huge ones. Tsunamis. The entire region is lost to view. We stumbled along the trails in the fog, which made things a little tricky. Hiking on dry ground is fun enough, but add slushy deep snow and ice… Good thing the people ahead of us knew where they were going. When we reached the summit of this mountain, we could see the world above the fog. It was cool. It was strange seeing seagulls fly over us, and even stranger to smell the ocean. Yet all around us were thick forests with pine trees and rocks and bushes. One couldn’t see 5 feet in front of themselves. Awesome. And freaky. I bet this is what the dark side of the moon looks like, I thought. It didn’t help that we broke into the liquor up there. I suppose my judgment at that point could have been brought into question.

The people in this area were really nice. They are down-to-earth. Everyone I met dresses in blue jeans and T shirts & sneakers & boots. If they are cold, they slap on the wool sweaters. I felt very much at ease up there. Everyone says HELLO and GOOD DAY… I asked the local cop if it was ok to rollerblade around town and she says “Sure”. So we went around, looking in all the windows of the little shops. There were a lot of souvenir shops that were closed. Then we went over to the docks. Since lots of boats steam into the area, I thought I would see real ports. No-just little white wooden docks that are rickedly and wobbly. From the docks I spotted these HUGE rock beaches with even bigger rock cliffs. Wh-how…I didn’t see any real beaches with sand. Just the rocks and boulders. And more FOG. It was getting dark out so that fog looked even more scary. None of us brought a camera. Damb.

At night we went to a local town pub. That place rocks. And rolls. Music, pool, poker. The people there eat meat and potatoes and fish and chips. No South Beach Diet Fare here. My kind of place with my kind of people. No stiff necks sitting up straight at attention, shirt and tie strangling the life out of the wearer, with napkins in the laps. No well groomed ladies with manicures and silky gowns and wearing way TOO many fumes. Most of the people were semi- slobs, like I can be after a few too many… Spill a drink onto your lap or shirt? No big deal. It’ll dry. Drop some food onto your shirt? Who cares. Flick it onto the floor. Walk into a wall or two? No one notices.
Need a cigarette? Just step out the door and ask.

Jenny and Tammy found a poker game and joined that while Kim, Heather and I learned to play pool. Lots of local fishermen ( and women) were around to help teach. And the drinks. Weird mixtures that tasted very innocent but were obviously more potent than drinks we were used too… We were getting just a too little drunk a little too fast…Other folks were stumbling around, knocking over tables and chairs. We only saw one fight, between two guys who no one could understand because they were so drunk. No one seemed to be bothered. We all just laughed.

Then the dancing began. I think everyone in the joint got up. Older folks and younger folks…Everyone was having so much fun. The last thing I remember was looking at my watch and noting the time: 4:30am. :0 I remember dancing to Pink Floyd’s High Hopes- and others were dancing with me, in tune. I’m not the only crAzy-dAzed person who can dance to that music! I remember going around and around and around, and laughing and laughing… Everything seemed as if it were moving in slow motion. I think I might have gone down at that point…
I have no more to remember after that.

I woke up at noon Sunday; apparently I passed out onto some chairs near the pool table. Kim was next to me on the floor; Jenny and Tammy were at a table slumped over. Heather was on the floor under the table. As was everyone else from the night. People were spread out, on the floor for the most part. Seems like everyone was waking up at about the same time I did. The lady who owned the pub recommended we all take some aspirin and drink LOTS of water. She had a bottle and we followed her advice. The headaches were awful.

Off to the Jeep we went; to the public bathrooms and then to get some coffee. Regular, not the Irish kind this time. One of the things we really wanted to do was go see the whales. It’s off season time up there-not too much is open and not too many tourist activities. But the whale watching continues all year round. They say that winter is the best time to see them. It didn’t take long to find a friendly fisherman who was willing to drag us out to the bay and a little beyond. I really wish we had thought to bring a camera.

We got back into the Jeep at 6pm and gassed it up. Time to go home. None of us wanted to leave. We could have stayed another week. Or two. But being the grown ups that we are, we knew we had to get back to our lives and our realities. I highly recommend to anyone and everyone to go away, with no plan, no itinerary, and no suitcases.
Bring a couple pairs of jeans and Tshirts…Just wing it. It’s the spontaneous things in life that bring so much fun. When there is a plan, there is a box you’re locked into. Who wants to be in a box?