Home!

Back home from a crazy wonderful road trip! From home to Marietta (GA) to Johnson City (TN) to Milford (PA) to Belfast (ME) to West Springfield (MA) to Fairmont (WV) to Marietta and points in between -- and a few out of the way -- I had a great time! 

Henry and I thank our driving companion for most of our adventures, Sue Aughey, along with our various hosts Brad Leath, Melissa LeDoux, and Kitt Chapman, plus some of the friends we visited along the way including Gwyn McVay, Patrick McLendon, and Laura Jordan. 

And we thank those of you who went along for the ride via The Adventures of Henry Burns Ford. (I have a feeling that will be a regular thing from now on.) 

Now resting, working, planning the next adventure, and listening to the rain on the roof.

Henry, at the outset of our trip

Road Trip! Part Four -- The Meandering Way Home

July 24

Henry and I left "our" tiny house and Belfast and headed down the coast toward Bremen to pick up Sue. First stop: a tiny grocery in Northport that's always open by 'way-too-early o'clock, for coffee, a breakfast sandwich, a blueberry muffin, and a jug of water. 

As if I needed a reminder, I got a small lesson in small-town behavior. There were no pre-made breakfast sandwiches that I liked in the case; the store manager noticed my look of disappointment, and offered to make me whatever I liked. Naturally, I accepted! While he was making my sandwich, he gave me an opinion on a brand of potato chips that earlier he'd observed me casually studying. OK, I wasn't the only customer in the store, but maybe I was the only out-of-towner and needed watching. Then he offered me a bowl of water for my dog. My dog, Henry, who was sitting in the car. I politely refused this offer, but not because I found it creepy. I already had a bowl of water for Henry, but yes, I found this creepy.

After my purchases had been rung up and paid for, another man, his smiling face somewhat weather-beaten, offered to help me get my purchases out to the car, an offer which was gladly accepted as balancing hot coffee with my other purchases was proving to be impossible. I thanked him, and as I drove away I suddenly no longer found the manager's behavior "creepy." Yeah, when you live in -- or visit -- a small town, people do tend to mind your business ... but that's not necessarily a bad thing. If they've sized you up to be a decent person, you've always got friends. And that is a good thing.

So Henry and I picked Sue up, then we all made our way down the coast -- because Sue was Jonesin' for one last lobster roll before leaving the state.   

Broad Bay Congregational Church, Waldoboro -- once upon a time, when Maine was still part of Massachusetts, the town was called Broad Bay.

The Little Brown Church, Round Pond -- nowadays, Round Pond is such a tiny little village, yet in the mid-1800s there were three shipyards operating.

  

Somewhere along the road from Round Pond to Damariscotta -- although I found this scene lovely, even lovelier to me is the fact that the land in the foreground is owned by the Nature Conservancy.

I would have to think long and hard about the last time I saw a Rexall drugstore. Oh, I know they're still around, but I'm pretty sure they're all gone from Florida. We had to go inside, because they advertised a soda fountain ...

... and they delivered. Here's Sue, waiting as the "soda jerk" (look it up if you're not familiar with the term; I'm not being rude) makes a couple of root beer floats for us. 

We found Sue's lobster roll, and clam chowder for me, at an open-air deck in Wiscasset. Then we started making our way to West Springfield, Massachusetts. First stop in West Springfield, the home of my very dear friends Melissa and John. Then on to Collins Tavern, "West Springfield's Best Kept Secret," where I enjoyed yet another bowl of clam chowder, and some haddock. I've written more about Collins in a post some years ago, so if you want to read more about this place click here.

July 25

I'd stayed up until 'way too late last night, visiting with Melissa! But it was a good time, and I enjoyed my all-too-brief time there. There are no photos from today, as we fought road construction and the usual traffic on our way down to Fairmont, WV and the home of Sue's friend Kitt Chapman. We ate chili and drank cherry moonshine, and once again talked well into the night.

July 26

Our route started with this unusual sign on the entrance ramp to I-79, which made me laugh:

And then we drove down to take the US 19 shortcut to I-77. This is the overlook that greets travelers from the north, a taste of what's to come along this very scenic highway:

We stopped at the visitor center for the New River Gorge Bridge. This bridge is amazing -- the second largest single span steel arch in the Western Hemisphere, and the highest vehicle-carrying bridge in the United States. Underneath the arch, it's 876 feet high -- that's one Washington Monument and two Statues of Liberty stacked one on top of each other, with about 20 feet clearance. That gorge is so deep that crossing it used to take 40 minutes, winding down to cross what is now the "old bridge" and then winding your way back up again. The new bridge reduces that travel time to less than a minute!

This is a view of the New River Gorge Bridge from one of the visitor overlooks

Looking down at the New River -- the old bridge stands toward the lower right corner of the photo

We then decided to drive down into the gorge, to cross the old bridge. It's something I always wanted to do, but as Greg and I were always traveling this stretch of road while pulling our trailer, we couldn't make this drive -- much too steep and windey for a trailer! We'd always said, "Some day ... "

Henry and me posing at a stop along the way down.

Trains still rumble along these tracks at the bottom of the gorge.

The "old bridge" -- yes, it's a wooden bridge.

This little beach on the New River is a popular place for swimmers, rafters, and kayakers.

After climbing back out of the gorge, we briefly visited Fayetteville -- "The Coolest Small Town in America" -- for a late lunch, before heading toward Marietta, GA in earnest. We knew we'd be arriving very late, but oh, the side trip into the gorge was so well worth it! 

July 27

We started the day at a cool, Henry-friendly breakfast place in Woodstock, GA, followed by a visit to the Chattahoochee River, and later dinner at another Henry-friendly restaurant in Marietta. As a last stop, we went to Marietta's famous Kentucky Fried Chicken, for a video of their iconic chicken -- incredibly tacky, but so tacky that it's incredibly cool!

But that wasn't all! We actually drove out into the country, as far from the bright light of Atlanta as we could reasonably get, to try to catch a glimpse of activity in either the Delta Aquariids or Alpha Capricornids meteor showers. I can't really claim to have seen anything from either of these; it seems I was always looking in the wrong direction when Sue managed to see something. Or maybe I'm just too nearsighted. However, both of us saw a spectacular meteorite entering the Earth's atmosphere.

And then back to Marietta, and to bed, to get up early the next morning for the trip back to Florida.

I'm so glad that Sue persuaded me to go on this trip! In some ways, it was bittersweet, as we traveled along many of the same roads that Greg and I had traveled in our long tours as Celtic Heritage. In a couple of ways, I fulfilled promises that Greg and I had made to each other. And I did something altogether new, in Henry's and my visit to Acadia National Park ... and perhaps found some inspiration as to returning to Maine next summer, perhaps as a performer again! 

Road Trip! Part Three -- In a Neat Little Town They Call Belfast

July 22 and 23

Henry and I spent these two days simply wandering around Belfast. Well, except for a trip that we made up to Searsport, so that I could have a seafood platter from Angler's. It was always a big favorite of Greg's and mine, and we laughed every time we saw its sign, or rather, the sign for the motel next door:

Other than that, Henry and I mostly walked around and sniffed things. Well, Henry sniffed things. I just took pictures. And we visited a bookstore. Henry was even allowed to come inside the bookstore with me! Funny encounter: Standing in the doorway, I timidly inquired of the shopkeeper if it would be OK to bring my dog inside; he peered up from his book just long enough to say, "If you don't bring the dog in, you can't come in either." Nice.

Belfast is a pretty dog-friendly town, and many of the shops keep a bowl of fresh water just outside the entry.

These first two photos are taken from the bridge crossing the Passagassawakeag River, looking down to the harbor and Belfast on the hill.

The rest of the pictures are in no particular order, and unless captioned there's nothing particularly "important" about them, except that I thought they were pretty. First, some photos taken around the historic neighborhood where we were staying:

My dream house

Also in the historic district is First Church, which I absolutely adore. First Church is a Congregational Church, founded in 1796, and it is the first church founded in Belfast. The building you see dates to 1818. When I think of New England, I think of the Congregational Church! And I must say that, despite the images that may be conjured up in your head of grim New England Puritans, First Church is -- like all modern Congregational Churches -- a very welcoming and inclusive church. And it features some of the most joyous, happiest worship services I've ever been blessed to attend.

Scenes from downtown

And last, a few scenes from along the harbor and the shipyard. Interestingly, though I'm sure shipbuilding, fishing, and other maritime trades have been important to the Belfast economy for centuries, until the 1940s the biggest employer was a large shoe factory which was built in the post-Civil War era, and which thrived as the town's economic mainstay until the chicken processing industry came in. Not sure when the chicken processing plant was phased out.

One last little photo of a t-shirt sold by a local vendor.

Don't be too surprised if next year, I'm posting from Belfast. Though I know I would not care for the harsh Maine winter at all, and wouldn't know how to properly prepare for winter, and wouldn't know how to deal with being completely snowed in -- well, let's just say I know better than to say I want to live here! But I wouldn't mind staying here for longer than a week at a time, and I may in fact try to work that out next summer.

Road Trip! Part Two -- Mount Desert Island (Acadia National Park and Bar Harbor)

July 21

Henry and I took a trip out to Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park. I stopped, briefly, along the way to pick up a rain jacket and a flashlight at the LL Bean outlet in Ellsworth, then headed toward the park.

I must say, the park was so beautiful I was moved to tears! Seriously overwhelmed, I pulled into a turnout and just sat and cried. Here are a couple of the first scenes to greet me:

The town you see across Frenchman Bay is Bar Harbor.

  

My first goal was the Thunder Hole, which is an amazing phenomenon of nature, especially viewed as the water is moving toward high tide. As waves roll in, they enter a narrow inlet, at the end of which is a small cavern. When the rush of a wave arrives, air and water collide to sound very much like distant thunder. Apparently, a lot of other people had the same idea to arrive at high tide, and I wasn't able to get near enough to the Thunder Hole to witness and hear this phenomenon! So I parked the car just south of the Thunder Hole, hoping to find another vantage point from which to view the incoming tide ...

... and discovered that, despite my careful preparation when leaving the house, I had forgotten Henry's leash. There was no way in the world that I would deny my adventure-loving pet the opportunity to enjoy the Maine coast, so I did a thing that would be completely crazy with most dogs, but not with my well-behaved and gentle Henry-Dog: I used a saxophone lanyard as his lead! This next series of photos was taken from a rocky outcropping where we spent considerable time just listening to the crash of waves and the occasional cry of seagulls.

I think we both could've stayed out there forever! Henry seemed completely relaxed and happy. But not wishing to press our luck, we loaded up and headed into Bar Harbor for some sturdier dog gear, which was found at a place called ... get ready for it ... Bark Harbor.

After securing a proper leash, we decided to walk along the Bar Harbor Shore Path, for a different view of Frenchman Bay.

Then we took a spin in the car through the town, because town seemed overly crowded for us to have much fun walking. Beside, we were eager to get back out to the park.

Leaving Bar Harbor, we headed out toward Seal Harbor

before turning back in toward Cadillac Mountain. The day had been very foggy, but as we climbed toward the top of Cadillac Mountain, we climbed above the clouds for some pretty spectacular views. Though this grouping of photos has a number of very similar-looking scenes, I was fascinated by the landscape which shows evidence of long-ago glacial activity, so I've posted almost all of the photos taken before reaching the summit.

We spent a fair amount of time on the summit, though clouds interfered with seeing any great views or taking any great photos.

Coming back down, there were some more thrilling views:

Then we chose to go back toward Thunder Hole, simply because we'd enjoyed our time there so much.

But to go to the actual Thunder Hole overlook, I decided to leave Henry in the car. Although he is not the least bit disturbed by actual thunder, or other sudden loud noises like fireworks, I was afraid that, should he get spooked or a big wave washed on top of us, there could be tragic circumstances. Having been down there, I now know my instincts were correct. The walk was a bit slippery ... and what's a dog going to do with a handrail? I know he wanted to go, because he likes going everywhere with me. But ... just not safe for him.

This is the inlet that I'd described earlier. Water rushes through this inlet toward the cave, which is unseen but toward the lower right portion of the photo.

And this is the actual cave. I really would've liked to take a little video of what actually goes on, because even when it's not the high tide coming in, it's pretty dramatic stuff. However, every time I started getting some decent footage, someone came into earshot and started chatting. I was a bit disappointed -- I'd really rather listen to the sounds of nature than my own voice! -- but I recognize that everyone's not that way. Guaranteed, next visit I make to this park I will be at the Thunder Hole at a not-popular-for-tourists time, and get that recording! Poor little Henry will still have to wait in the car, as this place is barely safe for adults, let alone kids or dogs.

One last view of Frenchman Bay, before heading back toward Belfast.

What a spectacular day! I discovered a little something about myself, too. I have always loved the mountains, but I've always loved the sea as well. On the one day in my entire life that I had the opportunity to enjoy both, I actually chose to spend more time by the sea. That was a very interesting personal revelation.