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! 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, despite my careful preparation when leaving the house, discovered that 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.

Road Trip! Part One -- Meandering to Maine

Sit down with a pot of tea -- this is a long one!

I've recently come home from a meandering trip to Maine and back -- the first "real" vacation I've had in several years.

It was not something I'd planned to do this summer! Other than attending WNC Highlands Celtic Festival in June and a family event, also in North Carolina, in August, I had only the most vague of plans: perhaps a September visit to Western Massachusetts to visit friends living or summering in that region, perhaps one more visit to North Carolina for "Celtober." But when my friend Sue asked me to accompany her on a drive to Maine, she was very persuasive. She'd won a scholarship to the Audubon Society retreat off the coast of Bremen, Maine, and having found travel arrangements to and from the island to be a logistical nightmare, decided to drive back and forth -- would I go? The promise of a fun road trip with Sue, plus a few extra days in Maine to myself during her camp, sounded just like what I needed, so after only the briefest hesitation I said yes.

I hope Sue did not find me too bossy in planning the trip! But the truth of the matter is that, after years of traveling up and back to New England -- including Maine -- I figured I knew the most reliable route to take. We had invitations from a few friends for stops along the way, figured on a couple of brutal driving days, and left the rest up to inspiration and imagination. So on Tuesday, July 14, Henry and I set out for Marietta, GA, to pick up Sue and begin our road trip.

July 15

Got a late-ish start from Marietta, because Sue just got a brand new job! So we spent a bit of time packing up her classroom before setting out on the road. Traveled a few hours to Johnson City, TN, to the home of my friend Brad Leath. He had a pot of curried lentils and a loaf of fresh-baked Irish soda bread waiting for us. And plenty of good conversation, both during dinner and after. Brad and his family live in a lovely historic neighborhood of Johnson City. Here's a photo of Henry and me posing with Brad on the front door step:

Funny as it is to see Henry sticking his tongue out, the photo that makes me laugh is this one, of Henry giving Brad the stink-eye:

July 16

We bid farewell to Brad and Johnson City, and set out for the longest driving day, up through the Shenandoah Valley. A couple of times, backed-up traffic "forced" us onto the scenic Lee Highway, which weaves back and forth along I-81. The Shenandoah Valley is very scenic and a beautiful, even peaceful, drive, despite the fact that it's a major corridor for the trucking industry. This is a typical scene:

But we didn't pause for photo ops, because ... well, how can you choose? Each new vista is more beautiful than the one before! Plus, we had a goal: meeting my friends Gwyn and Patrick for dinner in Harrisburg, PA at McGrath's Pub:

McGrath being Greg's last name made this a very special evening for me; what a "find" by Patrick! I had looked forward to this as much as any single aspect of our trip. We had a lovely visit and a lovely meal -- Henry even got to sit with us in the pub! -- before heading back out into the night. A brief detour before getting back on the Interstate, to watch the fireflies winking out in the fields, then we sped on up I-81 to I-84 and Milford, PA, where we'd spend the night.

July 17

Last leg of our journey to Maine began with breakfast at Renee's Hot Stuff Deli in Montgomery, NY, included a side-trip to East Longmeadow, MA, so that Sue could locate her parents' former home there, and a visit to the Dr. Seuss Sculpture Garden in Springfield, MA:

Then another side trip into Merrimac, MA, for a brief visit with Sue's and my former student Laura Jordan. Laura recently had a baby, and it was so exciting to meet him! And to see Laura, after too many years. I've managed to keep up with her and her musical career, but I do hope it's not another 17 years before I see her again!

Finally arriving in Maine, we met up with Sue's friend Sherry, for dinner at Falmouth's Dockside Grill -- great views of Casco Bay and twin lobsters! A late night pilgrimage to LL Bean's flagship store in Freeport, then finally, in the wee hours, we arrived in Belfast.

July 18

Above is a picture of the "tiny house" where Henry and I would stay during the week that Sue was at camp.

The day started with a hearty breakfast at Northport's Hideaway Diner, then the Maine Celtic Celebration. This was a somewhat bittersweet time for me, as Greg and I used to participate in the Celebration, prior to his becoming too ill to comfortably travel. We listened to some great music

and saw some amusing things

before wandering back to the tiny house, picking up the car, and going to Maine Maritime Products for a boiled lobster and some steamers to share. (When you're in Maine and lobster is only $7.99 a pound, you should take FULL advantage of it!) Then went back to the Maine Celtic Celebration for more good music and fireworks over Belfast Harbor.

July 19

Believe it or not, we went back to Maine Maritime Products for a clam roll and a lobster roll, before heading out toward Bremen and the Audubon camp!

We briefly stopped at Lincolnville Beach

then took a detour out toward the Owl's Head Lighthouse

before finally arriving at the landing for Hog Island and the Audubon Camp. (See the boathouse on the island -- that's where Sue would be staying during "camp.")

Henry and I decided to return to Belfast via a different -- and unfamiliar to me -- route, and were rewarded with pretty scenery along the way. These pictures show the Camden Hills in the background.

July 20

Henry and I took this as a day of R&R.

   

WNC Highlands Celtic Festival

When Greg took so ill, we made the very painful decision to pass production of the WNC Highlands Celtic Festival into the capable hands of Highland Brewing Company. Along with that decision came the realization that my band, Marcille Wallis & Friends, must be taken out of the lineup as well.

But sometime after Greg passed, I decided to go to the festival, just as a spectator. And Matt joined me for the trip, hoping to sit in with Rathkeltair for a few sets. We both wanted to see the continuation of the festival that we'd worked on since its founding.

On Saturday, we learned that a transportation mishap caused one of the bands to cancel. Although not a formal member of the planning team, my mind immediately went into Festival-Organizer mode: What should be done to fill the hole in the performance schedule?

It's nice to have friends who are as crazy as you are! I suggested to Matt that we put together a pick-up band, to which he readily agreed. Next we enlisted other friends -- vocalist/guitarist Trevor Tanner of the band Rathkeltair, percussionist Nick Watson, also of Rathkeltair, and banjo maestro Scooter Muse -- and I pitched our idea to Highland sound man, Jay, who thought it was a great idea. Next, I put it out to Facebook and Twitter land -- what should we name the band? My friend Peggy Bowe suggested "Henry's Clan," after my dog Henry, who is jokingly referred to as the CEO of Celtic Heritage.

So Henry's Clan was born, and it was so much fun! We played a few instrumental sets from the Marcille Wallis & Friends catalog, sang a few songs from Trevor's repertoire, and judging from the happy smiles, I'd say we gave a right good account of ourselves.

I'm already looking for an opportunity to have Henry's Clan make another appearance!

Here are some more photos taken at this weekend's festival:

And one very poignant photo, memorializing Greg:

On Politically Correct Speech, or, as I like to call it, Being Polite

Read on without fear, my friend!  This note will not discuss political belief, sexual orientation, or guns.

Instead, it will involve Brussels spouts and boiled peanuts.

Brussels sprouts are a fairly polarizing topic in the food world.  I've never met anyone who didn't have a strong opinion on Brussels sprouts.  Of course, I am unaware as to where many of my friends stand on the issue of eating Brussels sprouts; for me, it's not a condition of friendship, and it's just not a topic that comes up frequently in conversation.  Why would it?  Unless Brussels sprouts are on the menu, it's a bit of a non-issue.  But bring up Brussels sprouts, and reaction is strong and swift.  For the record, when it comes to Brussels sprouts, I guess I could be labeled a "hater."  I've read nutritional reports on how beneficial they would be in my diet, and I've been told that I'd really like them if they were prepared properly.  I'm tired of experimenting with eating Brussels sprouts, however they are prepared.  I just don't like them.  But I fully support your "right" to like them.

Boiled peanuts are another somewhat polarizing topic.  As with Brussels sprouts, most people have a strong taste for them, pro or con.  I am a little more likely to know where my friends stand on boiled peanuts, though, again, the like/dislike of boiled peanuts is not a condition for friendship.  I have also noticed that the taste for boiled peanuts is closer to a regional thing, with Southerners more likely to express preference for them than non-Southerners.  For the record, I am a HUGE fan of boiled peanuts.  I've never read any nutritional reports on boiled peanuts, because I don't care.  There have been times that I've bought boiled peanuts that proved not to have been prepared "properly" -- that is, by my standards.  But I do like them, and fully support your "right" not to like them.

So, how do Brussels sprouts and boiled peanuts figure in to "politically correct speech," which I believe is often confused with "being polite?"

"Brussels sprouts????  Ewwwwww."  vs  "Brussels sprouts.  Not a fan." 

"Boiled peanuts.  Slimy and disgusting!"  vs  "Boiled peanuts?  Eh.  Never cared for them."

"Gross!!!!  Why in the world would you eat that nastiness???"  vs  "I'll pass.  You go ahead and help yourself, though."

You don't have to eat anything you don't want to eat, and you don't have to believe or be or own anything you don't care to.  Whether it's pickled pigs' feet or political belief, okra or sexual orientation, garlic or guns ... It is possible to express an opinion, even a strongly-held opinion, even a studied and long-held and deeply convicted opinion, without using language that insults others who do not share your opinion.  That's not political correctness.  It's merely ... not being rude. 

Or you can refrain from passing judgment.  That's an option too.

Labeling

Read on ... this note isn't about what you think it's about ... though I imagine it will ruffle some feathers.  I'm going to talk about the recent spate of articles dealing with Introversion/Extraversion that have been circulating around Facebook.  Many of the headlines for these articles begin with the phrase "How to Deal with" or "How to Understand" an Introvert or an Extravert.

I'm starting to grow weary of seeing these, and it's mostly because the point of view of the article is all wrong.  Personality tests were never meant to be taken in order to put the onus on others for figuring out what we need; rather, they're for insight and understanding into ourselves, to help us figure out how to get what we need.  And even at that, the quick analyses we get from a 5-minute test on the Internet don't tell the whole story.

I've taken a real Myers-Briggs test, and I'll bet a lot of you have, too.  But there's a lot more to my personal label of INFP (Introverted - Intuitive - Feeling - Perceiving) than a quick test can convey.  I'm "distinctly" Introverted (as opposed to Extraverted) but not "strongly" so.  I'm only "moderately" Intuitive, meaning that I tend to value thinking over hands-on experience while still relying quite a bit on information that comes from the senses (see, hear, touch, taste, smell).  I'm only "moderately" Feeling, which means that I put slightly more emphasis on personal concerns than on impersonal facts.  I'm only "moderately" Perceiving, which means I slightly favor a flexible and adaptable lifestyle, but obviously still value structure.

Truth is, we ALL have the characteristics of both Introverts and Extraverts; we ALL use Intuition and Sensing; we ALL both Feel and Think; and we ALL have at least some preference for both Judging and Perceiving.  And that's part of my weariness with of the labeling.

I don't want to dwell on the Myers-Briggs labels, though.  (If you want to understand a little more about the Myers-Briggs test, there's a pretty decent article, tracing its history and its place in the world of psychoanalysis, linked below.)  Of just as much concern are the labels ADHD, OCD, and the rest of the alphabet soup of labeling.  It may be very helpful to know what labels apply to you, but the important thing is: These labels are to help YOU in figuring out how to interact with the world; they are not meant to tell the world how it must accommodate you.  That is an important distinction that a lot of us seem to be missing.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/on-leadership/myers-briggs-does-it-pay-to-know-your-type/2012/12/14/eaed51ae-3fcc-11e2-bca3-aadc9b7e29c5_story.html

The Story Behind "Journey to Heaven"

So many have been enchanted by this photo, taken in the Shenandoah National Park a few years ago. Here's the rest of the story:

Greg and I -- and our faithful dog Maggie -- were on the road constantly for about 10 years, but in all that time we didn't have much "true" vacation time. Sure, we got to see and do some really beautiful and interesting things, like the time we got to see Michigan's Tahquamenon Falls ... which we caught en route from a music festival in Evart, Michigan to an art fair in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. More often, we sped past historical monument after park after attraction, promising ourselves that eventually there'd be time for a proper visit. One year, however, we found ourselves with an "off" weekend between New York's Dutchess County Fair and Stone Mountain's Yellow Daisy Fesitval. So we treated ourselves to a week's vacation in Luray, Virginia, conveniently located more or less en route from New York to Georgia.

The campground we chose was off the beaten path. It afforded great vistas almost all around; I imagined what a wonderful place this would've been, back in the day, to build a fort, because you could see anyone approaching from below for miles before they actually reached you. The only part that didn't have a view was a sheer rise up to the Skyline Drive and the Appalachian Trail.  We were so far away from bright city lights that, on a cloudless night, we clearly saw the innumerable stars of the summer sky, and even the Milky Way. Talk about a getaway!

One day we visited Luray Caverns; another day we ventured into Washington, D.C. Greg's first-ever visit to our nation's capital. True touristy stuff. Mags and I even put in a few miles along the Appalachian Trail. Greg elected to stay behind on that day, leaving us gals to our own adventure.

But my favorite part of our little vacation was a drive along the Skyline Drive and into the Shenandoah National Park. It was a very foggy morning and we found our sightseeing somewhat limited. We still managed to sneak in a "dog friendly" -- and "somewhat-out-of-shape-people friendly" -- trail that led to the remains of a pre-National Park-era farm. Due to the fog, we missed promised views of Signal Knob and the Shenandoah Valley, but thanks to the fog it was peaceful and still ... so still, in fact, that we had a long staring session with a large buck who, though somewhat startled, did not run from us even though he was fewer than 100 paces away. Those are the moments you cherish -- even Maggie seemed to realize that it was somewhat magical, as she did not bark or even strain much at her leash.

I look back now to realize just how magical that experience was, and I feel blessed. There are many, many memories of our years on the road, but it seems that memories of these quiet times are the ones that I cherish most.