Acadia II and Travels Downeast

As we wend and wind our way out of the White Mountains and into Vermont, the Maine coast seems far away, our stay too brief. (When is that not so on vacation, though?)

Acadia National Park was a lovely - if wind blown - stop on Wednesday afternoon. 

   We left the charming Old Iron Inn in Caribou that morning with fresh muffins, maps and even a few good books, heading south on Rt 1 again.

 

It was a point of mild irony that despite the fantastic collection in our room - not to mention the house - my travel clothes were still so wrinkled. But wind and sun make that irrelevant!

Once on the island, we had aspirations of a long, enjoyable walk or bicycle ride over the carriage roads throughout Acadia. Given we only had one afternoon, however, in the interest of time we tackled Mt Cadillac by car. What a view.

Our car, thankfully, was in better shape than the elderly item above, humorously parked at The Old Tool Shed in Helm's Cove, a small detour before the park.

The marriage of Jeff & Teresa brings an interesting blend of Road Trip Points of Interest.

I did find these curiously Springerles-mold like item. The frames implied this was for some other use than cookies, and the $60 price tag rather dissuaded my further investigation.

Back on the park trails, there were impressive numbers of lupine, irises, daisies and wild roses.

  

What seems to take so much effort to grow in my garden flourish apparently effortlessly here.

An quick dinner of lobster rolls and crab cakes in the ever-busy but charming Bar Harbor, we headed further Downeast for the evening.

We finally reached the little cottages that started off the whole adventure  , when we rather unintentionally were the only bidders on two nights here at a charity auction. 

The cozy place did not disappoint, and we happily opted for a quarter mile walk to town for lobster stew that evening in Lincolnville Beach.

After a thankfully lazy morning of reading on our sunny cottage porch, we returned on foot (avoiding the car for as long as possible) for lunch!

Truthfully, I have little experience eating either lobster or clams from the shell. It was a learning experience, but enjoyable nonetheless. 

Jeff was quite up to the task after such a leisurely morning.

The views were beautiful!

The food was super fresh (taken from the tank only after our order was placed, by Jeff's observation).

   

We wandered back towards the cottages, only to detour for afternoon coffee at the rustic Green Tree Coffee Roasters. Coffee in a rocking chair on a warm June afternoon... Mmmm.

An Acadian Tour

   On Tuesday, we awoke at the Old Iron Inn to another beautifully sunny day, and no plans. What a relief. We weren't heading back down to the coast until tomorrow afternoon, which at the time seemed to give us all the time in the world. That all changed over breakfast. Visions of a leisurely local hike with a backpack lunch gave way (via conversations of local history, aviation history, and a debate over the identity of the John O'Hare's airplane hanging in O'Hare Airport in Chicago), to a drive north to the Canadian border and an education in all things Acadian. Fortified by sleep, excellent coffee, warm blueberry muffins and a hearty breakfast, this seemed quite reasonable. After all, once you've come this far, why not finish the excursion to the north-easternmost-tip of the East Coast?

   You may, like me, be somewhat familiar with the Acadian's from Longfellow's poem, but the subsquent details were all new. As the Acadians wandered from their coastal roots in Nova Scotia into Quebec and ultimately Maine after exile by the British, they carried with their French and Catholic customs and food, love for family and tradition, and hard work, and their dialect of French ("Valley French" - not French Canadian French). What we learned was that they settled into the St. John River Valley (south of the St. Lawrence River, north of the Appalachians) now northern Aroostook County, and from there spread down the east coast all the way to Louisiana, where they founded New Orleans. (Now it all comes together!) Boundaries were disputed, argued over, logged illegally on both sides, and finally settled in the nearly bloodless Aroostook War (had you heard of it?) with a map marked by Benjamin Franklin produced by Daniel Webster - finalized by the Webster-Ashburton Treaty in 1842. Really, that's not that long ago. However, family roots running strong, many families reunite in the St. John Valley annually. This year marks the World Acadian Congress and will be a international festival between New Brunswick, Quebec and upper Maine. Among the many events, there will be 120 family reunions. We not only preempted the 50,000 person estimate influx into the North Woods, but benefited directly - maps, signs, and freshly polished historical sites.

A little more history....

 
We therefore headed north again, up art 161. Unexpected town names greeted us at every turn: New Sweden, New Stockholm, then New Canada and finally Fort Kent. We were constantly warned of moose as well, but fortunately or unfortunately, none made an appearance.

Hello, Jeff!

Taking in the details of heritage and custum at Fort Kent's Blockhouse. The eagle is made of a moose jawbone.

The fort also serves as the (very lucky) local boy scout troupe's den - they maintain much of the area surrounding it.

Upstairs in the blockhouse - musket defenses remain open on three sides.

You can read the fine print!

More interesting artifacts

The blockhouse again- the only remaining part of the little fort

In case you wanted more detail...

A pretty walk through woods and forget-me-nots (incidentally) right to the St. John River.
Across the water is Canada - we really are on the northern border!

 The totally unique steeple of the church in Fort Kent caught my eye. It appears to be cut metal- strikingly beautiful.

Ready for lunch- and still no moose.

Heading out of Fort Kent onto Rt 1... Route 1 starts here and ends in - the Florida Keys! We have now been to it's beginning and end.

Note the Acadian flags: like a French flag with a gold star. The star seemed to reappear on every house and business in the region.

Summer in the Valley... Wild flowers and trees. We proceeded through villages like Frenchville and similarly themed names...

St David's- first parish church on the Maine side of the river, founded to serve the Acadian exiles.

In the distance, the cross marking the landing site of the first Acadians to come over the St John River.

 A series of these memorials marked the landing site as well: recently placed by direct descendants of individuals and families known as early as 1736.

 Looking over to Canada...

A little representative village home...

Farming still abounds, side by side with historical landmarks. 

St David's and the little cultural museum, proudly bearing the Acadian star.

We continued on route 1, following the river south.

Decisions: 1 mile to New Brunswick or 20 miles to Caribou? Wait. We don't have our passports! Enough adventures for one day anyways.

The much memorialized but elusive moose acting as border patrol.

   And that was quite a tour. We were so glad to be jokining my uncle's family for dinner in Presque Isle that evening.

Scenic Vermont

  I must confess the first day of the roadtrip, while beautiful in its midwestern farm and woods way, did not generate many photographs. We enjoyed the sun and open highway, the many well kept farms and wide swaths of Queen Anne's Lace and Flox lining the roadsides. The goal of the road time at that point was to start planning our trip we had embarked on, and reach Rochester by that night. Chicago to Rochester is solid 10-11hr stretch and we made it - and also the rare event of enjoying both Father's and Mother's day with my parents in one year.

The next day's afternoon and evening adventure took place along the Vermont Scenic routes 7  & 11, 100 and 131 to be precise. The ultimate goal was to make it well into New Hampshire (2/3 the way to our Maine destination) by evening. The interim goal was to locate an old blackstone farmhouse in rural Vermont along the Connetticut River that Jeff's dad had lived in for two years while in the Army Reserves. We are pretty sure we did not find it. However, we found some other lovely view and charming, thriving rural villages all along the way.

 
Entering the Green Mountains' foothills!

   Some classic New England sites near the VT-NH border...

   The winding Connecticut River

   Boston & Maine Railroad runs along the river and Vermont Rt 5.

Barns and farms... Looking long-lasting and peaceful in the evening sun.

The new and old in rural Vermont...

And we finally crossed into New Hampshire!

Crossing into New Hampshire, marking eight states in thirty-some hours!

 Onward to Laconia for the evening and a solid night of rest!

June 15, 2014