I can't tell you where I am because I can't see a damn thing

Days 1&2: Dover, NH, to Perry, ME; Perry, ME, to Saint John, NB
Mileage: 421

Blogging is tough work. Sometimes you drive for six hours and this is your only reward:

Yup. Ralph's Got Gas.

This was in Downeast Maine, along rt 9, or as I now call it, The SOL Highway. It does not appear to be an area where you want to break down, go into anaphylactic shock, have to pee--no, scratch that. You could totally stop the car, get out, pee in the middle of the road, and go on your merry way with no witnesses.

So I'm on my annual summer Canada road trip. Last year I headed to Cape Breton, the tip top of Nova Scotia. This year I'm going to keep it chill around the southern end. But to get there, I needed to drive all the hell up through Maine. Lucky for me, I got to stay with a friend up by the border. Georgie drives a red convertible, wears a blue kafiya (a scarf that rhymes with "Sophia"), runs a sweet little shop that features local crafts and goods (The Red Sleigh), rents lakeside cottages on a beautiful piece of land full of fireflies (Kendall Farm Cottages), and knows everyone in town. Seriously, hanging around Eastport with Georgie was pretty awesome. I talked to many local peeps and we shut down the bar last night. I'm feeling pretty proud. Anyway, here are some quieter moments.

An outbuilding at Kendall Farm Cottages

Beautiful barn on the property

In the morning, I went back to Eastport to take pictures. First stop: Shackford Head State Park.

It's a very quick detour. There's a small parking area and a couple trails down to the water. The view is okay; a little industrial. And as I emerged from the trail, my left foot started to hurt. Like little shards of glass cutting between two toes and on top of another.

Oh. I was of course wearing the opposite of everything mentioned on this sign. And if you're wondering, those little fuckers hurt.

The land to the right is Campobello Island.
Remember my death-defying trip out to a lighthouse there last year?

Heads up!

Onward to Canada!


Except that Canada was ridiculously foggy. I was glad to have the highway to myself because I actually applied the breaks to read the enormous signs that would suddenly come into view. I was worried that it would ruin my plan for the afternoon, but the pics just came out nice in a different sort of way. I present to you New River Beach Provincial Park.

Right. All those tough New Brunswick gangstas you always hear about.

He was smaller than a quarter and scurrying.

Then Lepreau Falls...

There are cool lookouts with picnic tables.

And finally to Saint John. No point in taking pictures yet, frankly. The fog has stayed so bad that driving was exhausting and a little scary. Each time I got to an intersection in the city, I realized I was in the wrong lane and did a bent-over Estelle Getty posture, looking all around for street signs and letting out a long "fuuuuuuck." So when I came up quickly on the hotel, I dodged in and stayed. Well, except for some mediocre food nearby that then got a mediocre review on TripAdvisor. Yup, I'm one of those people.

Gnight