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"IN MEMORY OF MARY LOGSDON" - IN NOTE SECTION OF CHECK

JUNE 10, 2006

"Hey, it is NOT my fault, I swear!!!! I am not taking responsibility for this at all. Nope, not this time." That was my response today when I told people I was from Michigan. The weather patterns come from that way, so it's your fault, they uttered in chorus. Never mind that it had started raining out here a full two weeks before I got here.

I encountered a new phenomenon today. Did I mention that it rained all night, and for most of today? Did I tell you that it has been raining so hard that water has been forced into all three hard bags on the bike, AND under the lid of the trailer??? That means that more stuff is wet. I left the Pinewood this morning at 8:00 AM. ANYWAY, when it rains on the Atlantic coast - like RIGHT on the coast - it rains salt water - which - when it gets in your eyes at 40 miles per hour or above -  it renders you effectively blind. I pulled over twice due to that situation. It tasted like salt water too. I have not been thirsty for some days now...... No, I don't have any camel humps either. I did see some on those women in Bellows Falls, though............. Great blue veined affairs........... never mind.

As I headed north, the rain beat down harder. The further north I went, the harder it came down. When it comes down so hard that the water can't clear off of the pavement, it causes problems. That alone was very tiresome and fairly "interesting". Then, the wind kicked up and began to combine with the already heavy rain to cause conditions that were far more interesting than I liked. Things began to get dangerous. I had to decide whether to press on for Fort Kent at the top of Maine or hold up somewhere close to where I was. I decided to pull up, get a coffee and think. So, I visited a Mickey D's for one of those breakfast burrito things and a coffee. Thanks to Jim, Sandi and Karen Grubba, I have gift cards that I use for that purpose and for the coffee. Which reminds me, have you ever stopped to think, then forgot to start again?

I made the decision not to hook up with Route 1 up at the top of Maine, but to head east for the coast, and Bar Harbor - or BAH HABAH - as the locals call it. I was angry with myself for that decision, but it WAS the safest thing to do. I use my retirement gift exclusively for this trip, and it is doing a great job. I purchased a Lowrance GPS IWAY 500C that allows me to listen to all my collected music while I drive. It will interrupt with voice prompts such as "Take next right" or "Go straight for 587 feet" or "You missed the last turn you inconsiderate turd" and other stuff. It is a woman's voice, so I think I am genetically predisposed to say "yes dear" each time I get a direction. I actually catch myself saying that out loud, even though it is just me, the wind and the rain.

As I was saying, I had decided to go east to Bah Habah, Maine, and was in a grumpy mood because of it. The cool thing is that just as I got to the sign on the side of the road that said "Welcome to Bar Harbor" (Because signs are not capable of verbal communication in Maine, the "r" is used in print, even though it is silent most of the time), the GPS began playing "Planxty Fanny Power". That was one of Mary's all time favorite pieces, so I took that as a signal for me to utter "Yes Dear" and be happy with the decision to head for the Atlantic Coast.

I had lunch at a place in Bar Harbor called West Street Café'. Out of all the places I could have eaten, I chose this, because that name kept coming up when I asked the local shop keepers where they would go to have lunch. It wasn't fancy - utilitarian, comes to mind, actually. The lobstah was very tasty and fresh. So was the chowdah. The really funny thing was that the table across from me was filled with a Chinese family trying to deal with Engrish Ranguage. They were trying to ask the waitress "Whey I buy Robstah?" "Buy what?" "Robstah! Robstah! Dis riy heah!!!" - indicating the lobster on his plate…

They finally got the news that the local grocery store would supply them with prenty of robstah. What a hoot. Speaking of Hoot. My brother, sometimes known as Hoot shaved his head. SHAVED HIS HEAD. I might have to do that. I may have to go back to Vermont just to see how those women do those tattoos too.

Naw, I don't think so.

While I was having lunch in Bar Harbor, it continued to rain. Then, suddenly- all - was - quiet………. No splashing sounds. No water rushing down drain pipe sounds. No RAIN at all………. But, try to imagine driving your car down a two lane highway with a white sheet over your head. The fog came in on little cats feet, sat quietly on its haunches AND STAYED THERE FOR THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON ----- unless, of course, it left to allow the rain some more licks. Then it would come back. Moving along at 50 miles per hour when BAM, fog. GOD I HOPE THEY SEE MY TAIL LIGHTS PLEASEOHPLEASEOHPLEASEOHPLEASE…..

I purposely took Route 1 "The Coast Road" here in Maine, so that I could look at the ocean and the related scenery. It was so foggy that I felt like I was wearing a ghost costume that I forgot to cut the eye holes out of. No ocean view. Even though there were plenty of pricey and froufrou "Inns"
that had signs veritably SHOUTING that their rooms had an ocean view.

Yeah, right. NOT TODAY THEY DON'T…….

So, here I sit, just north of Portland Maine in a Best Western writing this, when I had expected to be further down the coast by now. That's ok. I am safe. After over 34 years of motorcycling, I would have expected that I would have had most experiences of a moving nature. Today was far different because of the combinations of weather conditions that occurred either concurrently or consecutively. Wind/rain/fog/wind/rain/fog; you get the picture.

It was NOT a pitcher perfect day. No sirree. I will post the two photos I took of Bar Harbor later. I'm tired.