I am a weather dependent human and I find my happiness when the sun is out. Two days of heavy rain had me grumpy, three had me crying uncle and thinking about turning south in those moments of deepest despair. Then the sun came out.
We left Vermont and New Hampshire under a blanket of clouds but I knew the break in the sunny weather was temporary. We arrived in Maine, found a campsite in the White Mountain National Forest and the heavens opened up.
I was okay with it as Rusty was walked and we were tucked up for the night and despite the downpour outside GANNET2 is perfectly dry and free of condensation inside. We had dinner to the sound of drumming on the roof.
The sun struggled to break out in the morning and the leaves were dropping moisture everywhere as Rusty and I pushed under the canopy.
We got on the road and with an effort the sun came out. Our plan was simple: drive to Fort Kent in Maine taking the back roads. Which it turns out are the only roads across the inland parts of this vast empty space.
The roads across Maine for the most part are smooth and easy unlike some of the ghastly rutted roads we’ve driven in the north east. Road construction, bridge construction sand maintenance were on shoe everywhere. The highways are pounded by logging trucks but the roads don’t show much wear at all.
I enjoyed the scenic drive.
Layne had her fun thanks to Amish farmers all the way out here who had their farm stands alongside the “English:”
Summer season is over and the leaf colors are starting to change. School buses are out and school speed zones are in force. Summer fruits are sold out but Layne isn’t phased.
Temperatures were close to 70 and the sky was filled with truly extraordinary clouds as we followed the blue van line from village to village.
Bethel to Fort Kent was just over 6 hours on US 2 and Maine Highway 11.
We stopped in Rumford to buy regular gas at $3.34 a gallon. Then we stopped to admire the Androscoggin River which is used to generate electricity by Rumford Hydro.
A classic view of a classic paper mill town:
It was a good day driving. We stopped and paused in one of the many roadside rest areas that line Maine’s highways. We admired the views. We dodged ambitious pick ups and harried trucks.
Maine is vast. On the rises you can see for miles, forests with no signs of human interference.
Once we found out the municipal campground in Fort Kent had no showers it made no sense to us to pay to sleep so we stopped in a rest area five miles short of town.
Heavy black clouds were rolling into the valley off Mount Katadhin, the place where the Appalachian Trail ends or begins depending how you view it.
The rain returned but as Layne put it, we’d had a good long day of sunshine and short sleeves and that felt good. A dinner of stir fried pork and broccoli all produced on small Maine farms and we could listen to the rain all night if we had to.
