It was the best of days, it was the worst of days

I woke up this morning thinking I was going to ride in long sleeves, sans leather. Based on the weather forecast the previous evening it sounded like dry warm weather was on the agenda.

When I stepped outside to begin loading my bike it was obvious from the puddles in the parking lot that it had rained overnight. Looking upward, it appeared that it would continue to rain lightly most of the morning, at least.

My choice of attire changed to include leather over long sleeves. I headed northeast on highway 1 and, not wanting to appear that I was stalking Presidents, I turned onto highway 9 and headed for the coast instead of going into Kennebunk. By 9:30 I found myself in Kennebunkport, Me. Oops! I didn't realize that they were two separate towns. So as long as I was in the neighborhood...

Who does a stranger ask to find a former president's residence? Well, I didn't need to ask anyone where the Bush's lived or vacationed. I was following highway 9 through town carefully, so as to not lose the route, when I came to this T in the road.

The Lone Star flag flying in Maine clearly announces the Bush connection to this museum

I figured that I needed to give equal time to the GOP after visiting the Kennedy Museum a couple of days ago, so I stopped. Unfortunately, the museum did not open until 10 and it was raining, so I moved on.

After I crossed the Saco River I looked for a place to stop for lunch. I happened to spot a place on the left that claimed on their sign that they had been rated the Best Food in New England for 5 years in a row. Wow, how lucky am I? 

I had to chuckle at the sign that gave the hours of operation, followed by "six days a week". Which day are they not open? I figured I'd give them a hard time about their sign, until I got to the door and saw the closed sign. Closed on Tuesday? Yep, how lucky am I?

After lunch I decided to proceed without my rain suit as the rain had stopped. I was only a few miles down the road when I decided to put the rain suit back on, for warmth! What a difference a week makes!

Somewhere I came upon a large building which housed Garmin. I figured it was the headquarters of the GPS giant so I stopped to see if The Girls wanted to go to lunch. Turns out they've been out sick with laryngitis for a week.

I continued east to a very interesting bridge. They had a roadside observation point where placards told the history of the bridge that first spanned the Nobleboro River near Waldoboro (there you are, everyone one's been looking for you!). It was originally built in 1931 for $1M, and was a toll bridge until it was finally paid off in the '50s. During a major refurbishment in 2003 it was found that many of the support cables were badly corroded (inspectors found 300 bad spots). Engineers decided the damage could not be repaired so they reduced the load capacity and began building a new bridge.

I eventually got a motel just north of Arcadia National Park and Bar Harbor. I checked into the motel apparently looking as tired as I was. The lady who gave me the room suggested I take a nap then go into the park and go to Cadillac Mountain by 7:50 to see the sunset. I remember being in Arcadia in 1987 with a gaggle of kids and my wife was able to get them to sit still and watch and appreciate the sunset while she snapped a great picture.

So I took the nap, then went into Bar Harbor to eat and wait for the clock to advance to sunset o'clock. This was also when my day began to decay. As I rolled through downtown Bar Harbor I suddenly became uncomfortably aware of my anxiety in crowds. The tiny village of Bar Harbor that lived in my mind for the last 29 years was teeming with people. (In actuality, Bar Harbor has grown from 4100 to 5200 people during those years). Crowds gathered everywhere. I remembered a few small businesses and the area is now hotels being held up by restaurants and ice cream parlors. I began to get very uncomfortable and thought about turning around and riding back to my motel. As I did my U-Turn a parking place presented itself, so I inserted my vehicle and, helmet in hand, started down the sidewalk looking for a suitable cuisine to match my narrow tastes. The first place I stopped at was Cuban influenced!? The nice young lady suggested McKays down the street.

It was very nice. With a choice of indoor or outdoor tables, nice temperatures, beautiful blue skies, a laid-back guitarist playing easy listening versions of old standards. Betty would have loved it, and I would have loved that she loved it. I found myself fighting back the tears. The half hour wait at the Bush museum would have been acceptable with her there, we wouldn't have been rushing to something/somewhere else. The wait for our meal would have been an idyllic respite, spent chit chatting about nothing, probably holding hands or laughing. It was perfect, and I hated it for its perfection.

As I paid the bill I realized that the incredible sunset at Cadillac Mountain held no intrigue for me, so I returned to the motel. That which was once captured in a beautiful picture at Cadillac Mountain, lit by the setting sun and the bright light in the smile of the mother behind the camera will remain my memory of Acadia National Park.

Fog settles over the cove north of Bar Harbor

Here is the picture referenced above