by Amy | Sep 4, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure
Here’s a story for you. It’s actually a continuation of yesterday’s journey to Devil’s Tower. And I wouldn’t be bringing it up if we’d only gone and walked around, then driven back to Rapid City. But, as tends to happen, an awkward scene arose…and tonight I’ll tell you all about it.
Let me start by saying that Devil’s Tower is fabulous. A friend of mine visited once and climbed it–all the way to the top. Ever since then I’ve wanted to visit. Now I have, and it is as cool in person as his photos made it look. Maybe even cooler.
The great mass of stone seems to come out of no where. It’s only transition from earth to sky being a tier of boulders and crumbled rock around its base. A paradise for fools like me who love to walk along uneven terrain and scramble up rocks.
But alas, as you know, I’m working with an injury. So there was no fun bouldering for me. Derek and I decided that we should stick with the paved trail that goes around the tower. Even that was a challenge. You see, months of inactivity has rendered me physically useless. So the ups and downs of what was marked as an “easy” hike left me winded and in need of frequent breaks. Meanwhile all the elderly who had stopped off during their RV trips “out west” were whizzing by me with legs that worked perfectly.
It was along this trail, at one of my all-too-often bench stops that Derek said to me, “I think I’m going to walk up closer and walk on the rocks instead of the trail.” I sat there, just a touch confused. He was going to leave me to be passed all alone by 70-year-old speed walkers? Then I got a grip. It would be more fun that way…and just because I couldn’t do it didn’t mean no one should. So I watched him walk up to the rocks, then turned to follow an off shoot of the trail to an overlook.
When I got back to the main trail I looked up toward the tower to see if I could see Derek, wondering if he had gotten too far ahead of me. What I saw nearly made me fall over. I spotted him alright. Waaay up high. So high I could hardly see him, above the tree line, all the way up to the point where ropes are required to climb higher. I just couldn’t believe it. He was not just walking along, “a little closer.” He had scaled half of the tower. He was standing where this circle is drawn.
I whipped out my phone. Ah, yes, service. Perfect.
I called him. Why I expected the call to go through, I have no idea–but it did. His ring tone bounced off of the rocks and echoed back to the trail as loudly as if he was standing next to me. The mechanic tee-tee-tee-tee of his Verizon ring tone split the sounds of nature like a hot knife through butter. Awkwardly, this got the attention of all of the other trail walkers around me–who started looking around, then realized there was a man, half way up the tower taking a call.
A crowd was forming and I didn’t want to make a scene. No one likes a naggy wife. So I nonchalantly turned aside and said casually, “Please do not go any higher.” Then added, “Are you insane?”
But, there is no privacy on a crowded Labor Day weekend hike at Devil’s Tower, and soon the group had gotten larger and put the two calls together. There was pointing, laughter, photo snapping, and wry comments about how he “…must not have gotten permission,” and “Look at the guy who climbed all the way up there to take a phone call.” Hardy, har, har.
In Derek’s defense, once he had gotten to the tower base, there really wasn’t any other way to go but up. He had expected the tier of boulders to curve back down, but it never did. He told me he was actually about to turn around when I called.
The crowd dispersed, chuckling, after our conversation ended. Naturally there were a few over the shoulder comments about “keeping a closer eye on that one…” as they all wandered away and I parked it back on a bench to wait for Derek.
When he met up with me I must have shot him one of those looks. Those looks. He just laughed and said, “What?” What indeed. But I just said, “Well, that was exciting.” And we kept walking–together this time–and I told him all about it while we finished the trail.
by Amy | Sep 3, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure
I guess it’s official. Now I can say I’ve been to Wyoming.
You remember yesterday when I mentioned that Derek has to work from South Dakota for a bit because of a runway closure? Well, the part I didn’t tell you is that when my back was at its worst, I made plans to come and stay here with him for a few weeks. The thought was that here I wouldn’t be lonely, I could do my work remotely and I’d be able to focus on recovery without any distractions. So I got a house sitter and took off.
Things took a turn for the better, since I’m feeling pretty darn good. Meaning that instead of laying around the hotel we’ve actually been able to go out and do things. For starters we went to Devil’s Tower in Wyoming–which is only a few short hours from Rapid City, SD, where we are staying.
Don’t panic. I’m being really good. Walking, yes…but no strenuous hiking or climbing. Seriously. I’m on level with the elderly.
If you follow the Facebook page you probably saw a few images from our journey west when I posted a couple photos from our pit stop in Aladdin. You see, we were nearly out of gas and I was about to wet my pants, so we decided to stop at the next “town” which ended up being this.
Yes, this is the whole thing. It’s remoteness and back-in-time air has caused the general store to become a bit of a tourist attraction. The best part about the town of Aladdin is their fine, hand-lettered signs. They were everywhere. The signs on the door read: “Great deals upstairs.” “This town is for sale. Store-House-Bar-Trailer Park-Post Office-30 Acres. $1,500,000 Firm.” “We will be closing at 4:30 pm for a wedding.”
Naturally upon entering this other worldly place I forgot all about the need for a toilet and went upstairs to see all the great deals. Antiques and curiosities of all kinds abounded. Clothes, shoes, yard games, guns, vintage furniture, antique dishes. It was all there. As with the signs, everything upstairs was hand labeled as well. Including this Swagger Stick. What is a swagger stick, you ask? It’s a really cool cane.
In freezers on the first floor we were blessed to lay eyes on the country’s best bacon.
In the bar, off of the main room there were coolers with all kinds of beverages and another hand written sign reading “Free Beer Tomorrow.” It was shoved behind a book case…apparently they put it out sometimes.
Then I remembered why we’d really stopped. So I asked about a bathroom at the counter. The woman working told me there was an outhouse behind the building. “Oh, how cute,” I thought. I thought I was getting a real out-west experience. I couldn’t wait to see the “outhouse.” I mean, could this place get more kitschy?
What I found behind the building was not a tourist attraction “outhouse.” It was a real outhouse. Just a wooden shack baking in the sun. Inside sat a wooden bench with two holes cut in the seat. As soon as I opened the door I could see all the contents under the seat. The smell slapped me across the face. “Nope, not cute. Not cute.”
I let the door swing shut on it’s spring loaded hinge. And I held it until we stopped for lunch.
Welcome to Wyoming.
Come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you about Devil’s Tower.
Amy
by Amy | Jun 11, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure
I could go on and on about our Maine vacation. But I’ve put a cap on my ramblings. So today is the last post about our trip. The last portion of our vacation was spent in the highland portion of the state, at Moosehead Lake.
Since we only had 10 days to spend In Maine, we really wanted to see as much as we could. After spending most of our trip near the coast, we wanted to be sure to experience the inland region as well. This area of the state is just about as different from the coast as we could get. There were no coastal villages, no streets jammed with tourists, no sun hats, flip flops or breezy dresses. Quite the contrast actually. The town of Greenville, which sits on Moosehead Lake, is small, quiet and very woodsy. Unusually cold temperatures meant that {yet again} Derek and I were just about the only visitors around.
In the summer Greenville attracts hunters, fishermen, white water rafters and wildlife enthusiasts. The industry is mostly logging, guiding and lodge operation. But for a town that rugged, we were surprised by the aura of Mayberry it held. Everyone knew everyone. Everyone knew we were visiting.
One night we stopped by an ice cream stand {go figure} and two boys walked up behind us. While I was waiting on my cone the younger, probably seven, dressed in his little league uniform, walked up to the window. He leaned on the ledge, barely tall enough to see inside. A teenage girl was working. “Hey there! How’d the game go? Are we celebrating?” she asked him.
“Eh. We lost.”
“Okay, well, do you need something sweet or something salty to make you feel better?”
“Just shoe string potatoes please,” he told her. His older brother, probably 13 got a cone. The conversation continued, and I could still hear them chatting as Derek and I walked back to the car with our ice cream in hand. It’s a cute place, for real.
Of all the places we stayed, our two nights at the Indian Hill motel in Greenville was my absolute favorite. No, it didn’t include Kim’s amazing breakfast. But it was undoubtedly one of the cleanest rooms I’ve ever stayed in, in my whole life. It’s an old motor motel now owned by a young couple. They’ve done a great job restoring it’s 60’s charm, and all the rooms boast panoramic views of the lake. It’s just breathtaking.
{image via}
I had my heart set on seeing a moose. Yes, yes. Moose do live in Practically Canada. But I never see them. I wanted a Maine moose.
To see our moose, we booked a “Moose Safari,” yes, they actually have those, with Northern Outfitters. They actually guarantee that you see a moose. Guaranteed! They have a land option, which means you travel on foot, and a water option, which means you travel by canoe. We went the canoe route, since walking tends to get uncomfortable for me after a while.
Little did I know a moose safari requires such an early start. We were up and at the meeting spot at 5:45am. From there we took a 45 minute drive north via logging roads into the woods. Once to our spot we got out and into the canoes. We were all silent and anxious to spot one of these magical creatures. It was freezing cold, windy, and drizzling. But I didn’t care. I kept my eyes open, ready to spot. We were all silent as we stealthily paddled around.
That silence was only broken by one sound. The ring of my phone. My 7:30 am alarm going off. Boy am I obnoxious. It was in a pocket on the inside of my coat, under my life vest. Well, that was awkward. But we pressed on. Until it happened again–because I had just snoozed it, not turned it off the first time.
After paddling for nearly an hour with no luck, we decided to get back in the van to try to find a moose on land somewhere, which everyone was in favor of, since the icy temps were making everyone a little miserable. Once back in the van we drove and drove and drove. A couple times we were close. Once we even got out to follow fresh tracks…only to find them cut off and into the woods. So close.
When our four hour tour was nearly over, we had canoed, tracked, driven, and learned all the signs of moose habitation. But still, we hadn’t seen a moose. Frustrated, our guide was just starting to tell us what kind of compensation we could get for not seeing a moose on a tour that guaranteed a sighting…when, suddenly I saw one. Like magic. There is was in a stream on the side of the road. Our guide told us it was a yearling. Even though she was young, she was still huge. The way she moved was fascinating. Slow and lumbering. She looked so weird, like a cross between a horse and a camel, covered in the fur of a donkey.
Okay, so mission #1 accomplished. Mission #2–hiking to Maine’s highest point. That one didn’t end up happening. Based on the activities and pain levels of previous days, Derek put the kibosh on a five mile hike uphill. Instead, we took a ferry to Mt. Kineo and walked a much shorter trail to the summit.
{image via}
A little bummed that I could go to the highest point, this was a very good second. Mt Kineo is gorgeous. As a special bonus, getting to the summit also required facing a little fear, which I like to do. The highest point is in the woods, so there is a lookout tower you can climb to see a 360˚view of the region. Now, I don’t mind heights, unless I can see through what I’m standing on. The metal mesh stairs were–in a word–terrifying to me.
In the end, I was glad I climbed up. Even though, one could argue that the overlooks along the way were pretty cool as well.
Our last stop in the highlands was Elephant Mountain, site of a 1963 B-52 crash. Most of you know I tend to like things on the creepy side, and boy, oh boy–this is one of the eeriest places I’ve ever been. The remains of the aircraft have been placed at the crash site as a memorial to those involved and those who lost their lives. It’s so quiet. So surreal.
The next day we got up, ready to head back to Boston to catch an early flight the following day. Originally we planned to drive straight there, not sure what we would do in Boston all afternoon. But…on the way, got talking about states. Which ones we’d been to, which ones we needed to visit. That’s when Vermont came up. We’d never been.
On a whim, in order to mark it off of our list, we decided to add three hours to our drive in order to stop by Cabot Creamery–which hold the award for World’s Best Cheddar. WORLD’S BEST. Why wouldn’t we go?? And Goodrich Maple Farm. I won’t bore you with all the details, but we toured both and I ate 27 different kinds of cheese that day.
I guess, in hindsight, that was our first “yes” of summer. It was a great choice.
Amy
by Amy | Jun 11, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure
After leaving Boothbay we made our way toward Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park. En Route we stopped at…you guessed it–another historic fort. This was my initial reaction upon realizing we were pulling into yet another fort parking lot.
This time we were at Fort Knox. {photo below from Trip Advisor.} According to the visitor’s center, it is supposed to be super haunted. I don’t understand where that idea comes from, because after reading the information I learned that this fort never saw action and only once had people stationed in it.
At Halloween time they hold “Fright at the Fort.” A big haunted house inside the fort after dark. Can you say awesome? Follow the link for info about 2014 dates.
It actually ended up being pretty cool. My favorite of all the forts we stopped at along the road. If you go to Maine and are into this kind of thing, I put my stamp of approval on Fort Knox. It really was cool.
Since I was injured on this trip I was a bit nervous about our time at Acadia National Park. I’ve never done the park thing without being fit to hike at least 10 miles at a time. I wasn’t even sure what people did at parks if they weren’t taking a physically exhausting trek through the wilderness.
Once we arrived, Acadia put my mind instantly at ease. I’ve never been to a more accessible park. There are loads of things that you can do, even if you aren’t fit {or allowed} to trek. We started by driving the Park Loop Road. It’s a beautiful scenic drive with plenty of overlooks and pull offs along the way at some of the parks highlights. Once pulled off the road, the park’s most famous destinations are just a short walk away. Ideal for a gal like me.
The following day we rented bikes in Bar Harbor {for the worry warts out there, biking is still an approved activity.} The cost was reasonable and the route to the park was only two miles. Acadia has an awesome trail system for biking. Once upon a time J.R. Rockefeller Jr. owned a big chunk of the land that is now the park. He installed an intricate system of “carriage roads” to use to tour through the scenic wilderness.
Because the roads were originally designed for horses to climb while pulling loads behind them, the grade is very consistent, with only slight gradual hills. It’s totally doable, even if you don’t consider yourself a biker. They are also perfect for families toting little ones along. We saw lots of kiddos strapped on booster seats, riding in pull-along buggies, or on a carrier. The roads are clearly marked and travel along some amazing parts of the park. Without the carriage roads there is no way I could have seen this much of Acadia, simply because my back won’t let me do much hiking these days.
After looping through the park, we headed back to Bar Harbor in time for low tide. Since the water was out, it was the perfect time to travel across to Bar Island, via a large, rocky sand bar that becomes exposed when the tide goes out. Most people walk. We rode. I don’t recommend biking across. Yes, it saved us some time, but the sand is deep and the rocks make it a tricky jaunt. Just walk.
Cars are allowed to try to cross over at their own risk. Definitely don’t do that. On our way back we saw a car stuck in the sand up to its front bumper.
After returning our bikes we decided I needed a good, long sit down. So we got in the car and drove around Mount Desert Island. We made our way down to Bass Harbor to see the iconic lighthouse. And boy was it worth the drive. Just seeing the “cottages” that rival Grayson manor along the shore was enough to make it worth the trip. But sitting on the rocks while waves crashed at our feet, one of Maine’s most iconic lighthouses at stage right–it really was magical.
I’ll leave you with some Bar Harbor-ish tips. Things we did {and might do differently} if we were to try again:
1. Don’t stay in Bar Harbor. We stayed in Trenton and saved a bundle. Even if you have your heart set on lodging on Mount Desert Island, there are plenty of places to stay at that aren’t in Bar Harbor. Save your money and spend it on lobster.
2. Stay up late and see ImprovAcadia. The setting is intimate and the talent is wonderful. Just don’t get a milkshake beforehand and think you can take it in. You’ll be asked to finish it on the patio…
3. Go to the Rock and Art Shop in Bar Harbor. Out of all the cute shops in all the cute towns we went to, this was my absolute favorite.
4. Eat at the Side Street Cafe and the Thirsty Whale. It’s where the locals dish and there is a good reason for it. Both are amazing.
5. Going early in the season was great for beating crowds, but bad for taking advantage of all the park had to offer. Some major features–like the free shuttle service and Jordan Pond House were closed and didn’t start up until June.
6. I mentioned this before, but walk–don’t bike or drive–to Bar Island.
7. Get some coffee from Coffee Hound.
8. Plan your day from Agamont Park and take advantage of their free Wi-Fi while you watch boats in the harbor.
9. Take a little down time to walk the shore path. It’s an easy stroll and there are some amazing historic homes to gawk at–oh yeah, and coastal views too. Just make sure you find a bathroom first, especially if you chugged down a Coffee Hound drink before embarking on the journey. There is no where to go and you are always in sight of homes…so it might {hypothetically, obviously} be a very uncomfortable last quarter mile.
10. Figure out the tide schedule and get to Thunder Hole at the right moment. We tried twice, but missed out. I hear if you get there at the right tide stage it is awesome. {Image below is from AcadiaMagic.com–since we were never there when the waves were doing this…}
by Amy | Jun 9, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure, The Art of Living
The response my sister sent me in a text took me by surprise. I’d done something on a bit of a whim. It was a shot in the dark, but I thought I’d text her to ask if she’d like to join in. Now, joining would require a 6 hour drive that would need to commence in about 8 hours from the time of the text. But I thought I’d ask.
So, as I said, I was surprised by the response.
YES.
I sent the text from a booth in the Twin City Grill {eating the best mac ‘n’ cheese you’ll ever taste} inside the Mall of America.
Katie and I were on our way to one of my all time favorite places in the whole-wide-world: Noah’s Ark Water Park. You may remember that we went there last year too. Photo via Noah’s Ark’s FB page.
After much debate on when we should go, if the weather would be warm enough and how we should split the drive, we decided at the last moment, just to go ahead and make the drive. Over dinner, it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe Erin could join us. After all, school is out and kindergarten is over for the summer. So I asked.
YES.
Let me tell you. We had the best time. The weather threatened rain, but held off until three. The cloudy weather and being so early in the season, meant the crowds were slim. In our four hours at the park together we did all the slides. And our favorites more than once. Noah’s Ark really rocks in a major way. Let’s just say it is well worth the 12 hour drive from Practically Canada.
When I told Erin I was really shocked she decided to come so last minute she informed me that this is her “Summer of Yes.”
I like that idea.
Saying “yes” this summer. To fun, and new and exciting, and spontaneous. Saying it as much as you can. I like it and I’m going to try it.
That night we stayed in an adorable motor lodge near the Wisconsin Dells called the WilloWood Inn. It’s decked to the nines in 60’s nostalgia and home to a couple of adorable cats. {One just happens to be a bit…big boned.}
The next morning Katie and I took a walk while Erin slept a bit. We grabbed some coffee and split company. Twelve hours and a Culver’s stop later I was back in Minot. One “yes” of summer down. It was a long drive, a short trip and an amazing time.
So worth it.
Amy
by Amy | Jun 7, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure
We split our Maine vacation into three big chunks. After our day in Portsmouth we drove to Boothbay Harbor, where we would spend the first phase of our trip.
Boothbay is an active fishing community. Like a lot of coastal Maine villages, Boothbay stays pretty quiet in the months and days before Memorial Day. Then, suddenly it blows up into a bustling “summer town,” filled with tourists, as well as folks coming up to spend the warm months in their quaint summer cottages.
Derek and I were in Boothbay in the days just before the holiday, and happened to be there during unseasonalbly chilly weather. This meant we pretty much had the run of the place. We stayed three nights at Captain Sawyer’s Place, an sea captain’s home built in the 1800’s. Now it functions as a bed and breakfast…and it looks pretty darn sweet.
The room was comfortable, and we were the only occupants two of our three nights. Staying at Captain Sawyer’s felt like staying over with an older relative that you don’t know very well. Kim, the owner, was eager to help us decide on fun things to do, since the town was not officially “open for the season.” She also made the most amazing breakfasts. We were so full every morning we usually didn’t eat lunch until around 2pm.
Our first day in Boothbay was well spent. We started by heading to the Coastal Main Botanical Gardens. I was a little skeptical at first, since I felt like it might be boring, or {heaven forbid} an old person’s activity. But Kim insisted that it was amazing. So we went.
It was a great choice. Our visit to the garden stands out as one of my absolute favorite activities of our whole ten day trip. It’s that great.
The gardens are wonderfully laid out and accessible to everyone. Even people with a bad back. The day we visited, there was a huge field trip going on. Kids were spilling out of the specially designed “Children’s Garden” into whimsical tree houses, fairy woods, and other pathways. We overheard more than one kid turn to a friend and say, “This place is awesome!” I couldn’t agree more.
The Coastal Botanical Gardens own 250 acres. That’s a lot of space. You are free to walk to the more distant parts of the exhibits…or {if your back has issues and you have a husband who insists you “take it easy”} you can hitch a ride on one of their shuttles.
After the gardens, we took a drive down the coast to Pemaquid Point to see what the Internet told me was one of Maine’s most idyllic lighthouses.
On the way, we stopped so Derek could eat Maine’s #1 lobster roll from Red’s Eats. I had chicken fingers. I don’t like sea food. Don’t judge me.
The lighthouse at Pemaquid Point was idyllic, as promised. And again, on a cold, rainy May afternoon we were pretty much the only visitors. The older men working at the site as museum docents and guides were helpful and glad to tell us all about lobster traps, the specially cut glass that helps a small bulb power a huge lighthouse beacon, and life as a light keeper.
I love talking to locals. And these men were definitely local. They told us the best places to eat, complimented our trip plan when we told them that we were heading to Acadia then up to Moosehead Lake. “That’s the way to do Maine. If you’ve only got 10 days, that’s the way to do it.”
On our way back to Boothbay, Derek spotted a sign for another historic fort—so obviously, we had to stop. It’s Fort William Henry…in case any of you are interested. Click the photo for more on that.
The next day, we decided to get a look at Boothbay Harbor, from the harbor. During the high tourist season all kinds of water cruises leave the bay. You can ride a wind jammer, go on a puffin cruise, or take chartered fishing trips. But before Memorial Day, your options are limited. The only boat running was a ferry going from Boothbay Harbor to Squirrel Island. Not easily downed, we bought passage and rode along.
The captain told us that the trip would mostly serve to ferry folks to the island that were coming out for the weekend to open up their summer cottages. As we waited to leave, we watched as grills, pool toys, luggage, and lawn furniture was loaded onto the boat. Soon people filed in too. They all seemed to know each other and eagerly chattered away about how excited they were for another summer. How they were just chomping at the bit to get back to the cottage.
Now, let me just say, this word “cottage” should be taken lightly. Very lightly. These cottages that lined the shore could swallow up my little Practically Canadian home and still have 1500 square feet to spare. In some cases, the wrap around porches alone probably held the same square footage as the main level of our house. It was wild.
That day we ate lunch at the Bridge Street Cafe, where we picked our waitresses brain about this lifestyle of “summering” in Maine. She told us she was 19 and that her family had always come to their cottage for the summer for as long as she could remember. Her family lived in California, where her dad worked for IBM. During the warm months, they came to Boothbay Harbor, where he worked from home at the large cottage they had inherited. “That’s pretty much everybody’s story. The cottage was a great-grandfather’s. They family keeps coming up here, because that’s what they’ve always done,
she told us nonchalantly.
Wild.
After walking the streets of the quaint downtown, we took a drive around Southport Island to gawk at more summer homes and do a little jaw-dropping at the coastal scenes. We took a short walk along a nature preserve. We pulled off to walk a beach that looked out at another lighthouse.
When we were tired and hungry, we headed back to town to change and head to dinner. This was our anniversary and it was fabulous. That night, we ate at the Boothbay Bistro, where we were {again} among only a small handful of locals eating before the holiday rush began.
The next day we took our time heading out. I got coffee in town, we watched the boats ready for the first day of the official tourist season. Then I pulled on my purple sweatshirt and we took off toward the next phase of our adventure: Acadia National Park.
Amy
by Amy | Jun 6, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure
So upon finding my suitcase was filled with a lot of purple clothing, inappropriate for the weather conditions, I did manage to dress and we spent most of the day in Portsmouth, NH.
{Image source here.}
Let me tell you, that was a majorly good decision. Portsmouth is, #1 adorable; #2 delicious; and #3 pretty darn walkable. I highly recommend that you visit. I’ll tell you how we spent the day, but I’m sure there are loads more fun things to do that we missed out on.
We started our day off at the Friendly Toast. I tried to get some photos to show you, but honestly, it was a little dim and I was way too busy nom-noming on some of the most amazing pancakes I’ve ever had.
So when you go, remember–you need to go to Portsmouth–start your day here. These beautiful photos are from their lovely website. You should go and look at their other spiffy photos. And their menu while you’re at it.
After breakfast we took a stroll around town. We didn’t make it too far though. Just a few doors down from The Toast. A little place called Diversions. AKA–our paradise.
You guys, it is a game store! Not a game store like those places that call them game stores, but really just sell Dungeons and Dragons stuff. This is a legit board game a puzzle store. It is so amazing. Games that we thought were discontinued, games that we’d never heard of, games we added to our Christmas list. We like games. And the best part of all, was that they had a big shelf with “demo games,” and tables set up. So you could try out a new game before committing to buying it.
AND–they have weekly gaming meet ups. So. Cool. We spent 90 minutes playing games and left with just one–only because we flew and didn’t have the space for more.
Next we walked the town a little more. We took a stroll through the Book Bar. Way cute and a must-stop for book lovers.
A big highlight for me was Prescott Park. Although we were there pretty early in the season, and not all the flowers were blooming it was still breathtaking. No matter how fancy my new smart-phone is, it really didn’t do it justice. And I left my “fancy” camera in the car {WHY?} So I got these photos from online sources to show you the park in all it’s glory. Click the images to see their original sources.
From Portsmouth we continued our journey, after all, we did travel east with the intention of going to Maine. We crossed over to Kittery, ME, which proved to have something for each of us. Outlets for me, since I packed like an idiot. And, historic Fort McClary for Derek. {Little did I know at this point we were embarking on a fort tour of Maine…}
Oh, and while we were doing the military history thing…we went ahead and toured the USS Albacore, a retired experimental submarine. Even though it smelled really weird, it was pretty interesting {and cheap.} I don’t know–Derek and I are easy to please, so it’s hard for us not to have a good time.
It was a great way to kick off the trip. Tomorrow I’ll tell you about our days and nights in the Boothbay Harbor region…and my new understanding of what defines a “summer cottage.” Stay tuned!
Amy
PS–looking for more fun in Portsmouth? We got some of our ideas from this article–and I’d bet the rest are just as fabulous.
by Amy | Jun 3, 2014 | Blog, The Art of Adventure
Sometimes moments in my life pass by in a blur. I remember bits and pieces of them, but the details are all foggy. Then I snap to it, look back and wonder, “What the heck was I thinking.” A moment like that pretty much kicked off my vacation just over a week ago.
The day before we left we realized that we had pretty much no clean clothes. I did laundry all day. That evening Derek folded while I I hosted a social for the spouses of Derek’s squadron. It was really fun. I love seeing all those awesome ladies. It was a paint-along party. Our art turned out lovely.
After everyone left I was exhausted, my back was killing me, and I was dreading the 4:45 wake up call the following morning in order to catch our 6am flight. Luckily, I have an amazing husband. All our toiletries were packed, all my laundry was folded and sitting on the bed. I just needed to pick out clothes for the trip and put them in the suitcase.
“I’m so tired. I don’t even know what the weather is going to be like. I hate packing. I have no idea what to bring. What should I bring? I can’t do this.” I whined that to Derek upon walking into our room and throwing myself down on the floor.
“Ok–ay. Well, the weather is going to be chilly. Pretty much like it’s been here the last two weeks. And–this is what you’ve worn the last two weeks. So just pack some of that.” Derek is always nice and logical. He pointed at the stack on the bed. It was a good point. There were lots of basics, solid t-shirts, a couple sweaters, a cardigan or two.
After that I don’t remember much about the rest of the night. It’s all just a blur.
The following night we stayed in Portsmouth, NH. When I got up the following morning and tried to get dressed I was shocked. Just shocked. When I looked through the suitcase I just simply could not believe what I was seeing.
Hardly any of the clothes that had been on the bed had made it into the suitcase. I had brought the appropriate number of bottoms: two pairs of jeans, two pairs of leggings and two pairs of shorts–enough for a 10 day trip. But the tops–oh, the tops. Here’s what ended up in the bag.
Okay, setting aside the fact that I packed every purple article of clothing I own–why, I have no clue–just look at what I brought. Those two, nearly identical, purple tank tops have actually been in my Good will stack. They are ratty gym tops that have stains on them. I only wear them when I am completely out of clothes…and never if I’m teaching in front of a class.
Why that dressy top? No clue. We were going to a national park. And why, oh why are there only a few things? No basic long sleeves, no cardigans, no flannel button downs. And, what did I think I would wear those purple shorts with? One of the purple tank tops? Am I Grimace from the McDonald Play Place?
I sat in front of the suitcase for a long while. Just in utter disbelief. I didn’t even bring hiking socks. WHAT? Just low cut running socks.
I just really don’t know what happened.
I got dressed. Later–again, I have a great husband–we made a pit stop at an amazing outlet mall in Kittery, ME. Old Navy and the Columbia outlet set me up with more appropriate attire for the rest of the trip, but I’m still just really unsure about how I ended up with such a poorly packed bag. So as the rest of the week goes on and I show you photos from the trip–don’t judge me. I’m wearing that purple sweatshirt in nearly every photo.
Amy
