The evening I arrived, I stopped in the office to ask for advice on trying to see the sunrise in the morning. The woman was adamant: get up and do it! It is totally worth it! So I woke before dawn and managed to get out to West Quoddy Head before the sun was completely up. It was gorgeous.
There were few of us there, and we wandered around avoiding being in each other’s shot. I checked my cell phone for the time, and discovered that I had lost an hour. My foggy brain tried to figure it out for a minute before I realized that it had slipped into the Atlantic Time Zone while I was there because I had gone so far east. It was a gorgeous morning, and when the sun was fully up, I headed back to the motel. I had promised myself that, since I was heading back West and, eventually, home, it was time to take a picture of every scenic thing I found along the road that day. So I stopped the car for some lupine at dawn.
Back at the motel, I fell back to sleep and was woken hours later by the sounds of other guests feasting on the homemade muffins available in the office next door. I dressed and chatted with the proprietress, who told me they often warn visitors to set manual alarms rather than rely on their phones because of the time zone issues. After breakfast, I made my leisurely way packing and writing, then headed in to Lubec.
The town turned out to be charming and the people friendly. I visited Monica’s Chocolates and the Lost Fishermen’s Memorial facing the ocean before heading down the main street, looking in the shops. I regret that I had not brought my passport because there is a nice side trip to Campobello Island, home to FDR’s childhood summer home. But it sits on the Canadian side of the border, and without a passport, I could not get there and back.
Eventually, I pressed on from Lubec, and violated my own rule: I failed to stop for a photo of a gorgeous house along the drive out that was falling into disrepair, and instantly became the object of my coastal Maine living fantasies. In almost every state, I have picked out a town where I would choose to live. For Maine, I choose Lubec. I loved the isolation and charm.
Heading westward, my next stop was Machias. My guidebook raved about Helen’s, a restaurant that had burned down at the time of the latest edition. I did not know if it was back or easy to find, so I was thrilled when it was the first thing I saw in this picturesque town. I took local advice and had a meatloaf sandwich and raspberry pie, and enjoyed great service with the excellent food. I wandered along the town, taking in Columbia Falls Pottery, and fantasizing about the tiles I would use in the kitchen of my Lubec renovation. For the first time in my trip, the sky was turning rainy and the weather a big chilly.
I pressed on, heading westward on Route 1. I stopped at Wild Blueberry Land, an interesting igloo-shaped landmark offering a kids park, baked goods and souvenirs of this county, where much of America’s blueberries are harvested. I did not have kids to enjoy the rides, so I indulged in the shop and its freshly baked goods.
I did not have a fixed agenda for the day. I was trying to get to Blue Hill before a shop closed, so I was free to wander a bit. My navigation device sent me on Route 182 near Sullivan to bypass some of Route 1 and, as I was intent on listening to the radio, a small black bear wandered out onto the road in front of me. This is my fourth state where I have encountered black bear, and I think it means the travel fairies are smiling at me. He lingered and played a bit, but I was still not fast enough to get a photo. Not far up the road, a larger adult bear also appeared. It was exciting. The other humans I saw in the area looked vulnerable in swimwear as bears lurked about. I warned one, really because I needed to tell somebody else about what I had just spotted.
I finally arrived in Blue Hill, where I parked and walked to find Borealis Press, whose cards had delighted me in Bar Harbor. After making my purchase, I wandered the town a little, but I felt invisible and less welcome there than I had Down East. I was heading back into the pricier, more crowded part of the state and was starting to feel travel weary.
I had booked a Bed & Breakfast that evening near Damariscotta and was eager to get out from behind the wheel and see more than road. However, I made a travel mistake and became too obedient to my phone’s navigation. Instead of following the highway along the coast and stopping in Belfast, I followed directions inland, and wound up with considerably more driving on country roads. I got lost more than once, and was glad to arrive at the B&B. It received a warm welcome, and settled in for the night. My trip was getting closer and closer to an end, and I needed to rest and organize.