Our first two days in Maine were good. We had a shaky re-entry into the U.S. The port at which we entered was under construction and there were trucks parked all over. A sign pointed all trucks and big vehicles through a portal to the right, so we drove through it and parked next to a truck that might be entering the U.S. or might be there for the construction. The inspector got frustrated that we hadn’t waited for him to tell us when to drive through, but the sign didn’t say that. Then, even though we were under our liquor limit, he began to lecture us about duty and taxes on liquor until the next vehicle that didn’t wait for him to go through the portal. He told us he was working by himself that can’t be fun because there was a lot of activity going on. I still don’t even know the name of the port we came through; I thought it was better not to ask him.
Things got better at Lily Bay State Park. Pretty far north in Maine, the park is lined up along a small chunk of enormous Moosehead Lake. We went for a walk along the shoreline at sunset and listened to loons calling back and forth across the water. The air was completely still and the lake was glassy, with little islands popping out here and there. The trees in the area are about 25% changed. It’s interesting to see the process of color change happening.
The next day, we hiked around the lake for a while, hoping to see some moose, but no luck. We drove to a bog that moose liked, but none were to be seen. Then we decided to let Garmin lead us to Spencer’s Bay. It put us on a “road” without a name that quickly turned into a small rutted trail. After 1.5 miles, Dave decided not to creep through a puddle that might be deep, so we gave it up.
We spent the rest of the afternoon reading at the beach by the lake. There was one other couple sitting far away, being entertained by local ducks. Then the ducks abandoned them and waddled purposely towards us. After ascertaining that we weren’t going to feed them, I though they would leave. But instead, they stuck around, picking at stuff in the grass, periodically nibbling our shoes and shoelaces to redetermine if they were edible. Two were definitely a couple and the third might have been a juvenile. Dave shooed a spider off his chair, and Mama duck obligingly ate it. Finally, one, two, three, they settled down in a row about 6 inches from our feet, stuck their heads into their back feathers, and took naps. (As Dave said “We finally have our ducks in a row.”) Sitting like that, we got a good look at them. Each of the three had a beautiful blue streak at the bottom of their wings that changed color from cobalt blue to purple to teal blue as they moved. Otherwise, they had different plumage. They made a few clucking noises to each other, but never quacked at all. It was amazing that they would be so unconcerned with us right behind them. Maybe we still have the aura of Butters the duck on us. Suddenly, all three rose straight up into the air from their seated positions and flapped off in a panic. We couldn’t see a thing around that might have spooked them, but who knows what scares a duck?
I had trouble sleeping that night and remembered that we had forgotten to look at the stars. I got up to check out the stars, but a plethora of trees and a lack of contacts made it difficult to determine if there were any up in the sky. Oh well. It’s too bad because upstate Maine is a good place from which to see the night sky; there’s no big cities nearby.
We’re in a campground near Bar Harbor now. Today is a major laundry day – 5 washing machines worth. We need to get our chores done. Tomorrow will be rainy and on Sunday, Bar Harbor is expected to experience the tail-end of the latest hurricane. We’ll have a front row seat, looking out over the bay.