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Part two of Mother Nature’s amazing foliage display along the Kancamagus Highway.
No narrative required.
( And if you’ve never experienced autumn in New England? What the hell are you waiting for! )
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Now tell me your blood pressure didn’t just drop.
😉
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The husband and I reluctantly stopped at a tourist-centric restaurant last week which is something we try hard to avoid. Why do we dislike the tourist places? The seafood is usually sub par, ( it was ) the decor is usually tacky ( plastic lobsters, fake fishing nets) and the menu usually contains pictures they think tourists want to see.
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This is the world’s largest lobster roll, it sells for $100 and if you finish the whole thing by yourself? You’re made a member of the clean plate club. But that picture? Just… no.
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Required photo of Lord Dudley Mountcatten watching a flock of starlings.
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Finally…. An advent calendar I can get behind. Or under as the case may be.
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It poured the other night and as you can see…. the husband’s latest roof repair did not hold up. And if that wasn’t bad enough, my latest patch job turned out to be perfect for funneling water down the wall and creating liquid filled bubbles. This has been going on so long I’m tempted to just wrap the house in plastic and call it good.
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I’ve been known to have an epiphany or two while drinking, but wine that tastes God? That’s a whole other ball of wax.
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Color me surprised. I had absolutely no idea.
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After a beer and hard cider filled morning and early afternoon…. and a less than stellar mid afternoon chowder house lunch with margaritas, I thought we were going home. But my husband realized we were driving up on a friend’s town and gave him a call.
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Enter the Bait Shed restaurant and bar in the Pine Point area of Scarborough…
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Where our friend was sitting and thoughtfully holding seats for us… complete with waiting cocktails.
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I’d never been nor even heard of this place, but a better spot to end the day would be hard to find.
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The ocean breeze was cool, the summer tourists were gone. We had good company, potent drinks, hearty laughs and fresh seafood.
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They don’t take themselves too seriously at the Bait Shed….
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Probably because their establishment really was a bait shed in a previous life.
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It’s the type of place Maine locals avoid like the plague during the season and visit frequently once the outta staters have left the state.
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It’s the type of place where you’ll get a dirty look if you order an espresso martini, but I saw a bowl of chowder go by and damned if it wasn’t the real thing.
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After a morning and early afternoon of drinking beer and hard cider, yours truly needed some food. We were traveling up Route 1 near Wells when I remembered there was a restaurant on the estuary…. so I hollered “Let’s go!”
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Billy’s Chowder House made a decent margarita and had a wonderful view, so things were looking up.
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And when you’re in a chowder house restaurant? You have to order chowder… which is when it started to go bad.
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We ordered clam chowder. What we got were thin, milky bowls of potatoes. Clams? I think the chef might have grated one over the top. A more tasteless bowl of gruel would be hard to find.
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The husband had mussels, which were tiny, overcooked and swimming in enough garlic to repel a platoon of Vampires.
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I ordered a shrimp roll which, while edible… was nothing to write home about about.
The bill was almost $100 and I made a mental note never to cross that threshold again.
A Maine chowder house with horrible chowder? There’s no excuse for that. This place needs to sink back into the sea and be done with it.
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I’m going to post a collection of photos today. I took them this weekend as we were driving the Kancamagus in New Hampshire.
The Kanc is a 36 mile swath of highway cut right through the White Mountains… and this time of year? It’s beyond stunning.
The pictures speak for themselves, so I’ll be quiet and let you enjoy the splendor that is autumn in New England.
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A side note – We weren’t the only ones enjoying peak foliage season that day. And in all my years of peeping leaves in this area? I’ve never seen so many people line the roads to gawk. At times traffic was at a dead stop.
All Hail Mother Nature!
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And now, experience it in real time.
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To be continued..
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Autumn is here and it’s by far my favorite time of year. Crisp air, brightly colored foliage, pumpkins, apples… what’s not to love?
Of course if you’re my husband, who just spent countless thousands turning his barn into a man cave, you might not fully embrace the season.
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Because nothing says ‘private domain of men’ more than a strategically placed fall wreath.
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And speaking of turning leaves….
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Ours are just beginning to put on a show. It’s the season I starting twitching for a road trip to the mountains. Whether that will happen is still up for debate.
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Weren’t expecting that?
Neither was I, but it popped up on my FB feed all the same.
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A photo of Lord Dudley Mountcatten meeting my new toy. He was not impressed, but I am.
Since blowing out my knee last year, getting on all fours to scrub the kitchen floor has been a no no. Enter the Bissell steam mop. Cheap and surprisingly efficient.
How well did it clean the floor?
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So well that I literally gasped at how filthy it had become.
In my defense, I mopped right after a rain storm and had to erase an artful array of the husband’s muddy boot prints, but still.
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Consisting of 450 oceanfront acres , there are ample opportunities for strolling.
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The resort itself spreads out in various areas with various types of buildings… and gives you a feeling of stepping back in time.
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Individual cottages straight out the 1950’s are across the road from modern condos.
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And everywhere you look there’s something photo worthy.
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The rugged Maine coast is on full display. No wide sandy beaches in this neck of the woods.
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The resort has their own cruise boat and offers scenic tours of the area.
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And naturally my husband had to strike up an hour long conversation with the boat’s captain.
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Ever spent the night in a lighthouse inspired suite? You can here.
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And it’s right across from a moonlit dancing lobster. What more could you want?
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Low tide.
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Another cottage.
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The cove.
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Ahhh…. Maine.
It never fails to lower my blood pressure.
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In life, mysteries abound.
And in my state? Sometimes they’re a little odd.
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The duck, as you may have heard, stands some 25 feet tall. It floats in the harbor off of Belfast, a tiny city midway up the Maine coast and south of Bangor, having apparently appeared bobbing in the water there under cover of darkness. As if to overemphasize the message of happy playfulness its creator clearly aims to project, it has the word “JOY” written in big block letters across its big yellow chest. Ropes attached to weights appear to be keeping it anchored in place, as gawkers in boats and along the shore stare at it in wonder. No one knows who put it there, and the mystery surrounding its sudden unannounced arrival has quickly been noticed by news outlets across the country.
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The yellow waterfowl emblazoned with the word “joy” appeared in Belfast Harbor over the weekend, and it’s a mystery who put it there.
Harbor Master Katherine Given told the Bangor Daily News that the 25-foot-tall duck doesn’t pose a navigational hazard, so there’s no rush to shoo it away. She added she heard rumors the duck floated from the town of Islesboro, south of Belfast.
“Everybody loves it,” Given said. “I have no idea who owns it, but it kind of fits Belfast. A lot of people want to keep it here.”
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I tried to get my husband to take a ride up there. But driving an hour and a half to take pictures of a giant rubber ducky was not high on his list of required weekend activities.
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But damn.
Talk about a missed opportunity.
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I stumbled on a rather odd Facebook group page the other day.
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And while I doubt I’ll join, I can appreciate the sentiment.
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Red’s Eats is a Wiscasset landmark, a popular tourist destination and a long running bone of contention for anyone who has to drive through the area. Locals laugh at the outta staters who stand on line for an hour for what is seriously sub par seafood. (And trust me, they’re all outta staters… no self respecting Mainer would pay $38 for a lobster roll.) But the reason behind the page and its flamboyant parade of finger waves are the atrocious traffic jams this silly little take out trailer produces. A drive through town that should take 3 minutes? Will sometimes take you 30.
So without further ado… I bring you the only appropriate thing to do should you happen to drive past Red’s Eats.
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Look! They even have tee shirts.
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P.S…. if you visit Maine and decide you have to try this universally loathed establishment? Please unfriend me first.
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So you can understand what the natives are saying when you visit.
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When I first moved here I thought this was a ridiculous adjective. 43 years later? I still do.
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Never let a dubbah be responsible for the beer. No good can come from that.
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If you live in the back of beyond? Behind the puckerbrush, in bumblefuck Egypt? You live in the willywacks… and really can’t get there from heah.
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River's world..... 