My Maine and the Highway – Summer Reflections in Pictures

At the end of May, I began to drive north. 

My destination was certain: the rocky coasts of mid-coast Maine.  I missed the smell of the Atlantic Ocean, the uncertain weather, and slower (but longer) days.  I missed my family, my insanely energetic twin sister, and the way people say, “ayuh” when asked a question.

My friend Kris often says that Baton Rouge has a way of “getting under your skin.” And it does.  And it has.  Baton Rouge is definitely under my skin. 

But what about those of us whose epidermal layers are so caked with “lobsters, blueberries, and craft fairs” there’s nowhere for them but Downeast Maine? To this end, Baton Rouge comes up a bit…short.  It’s not that I can’t find blueberries or go to a craft fair.  It’s more like…like…there’s no place like Maine.

Pictured: the view from a friend’s island in Port Clyde, Maine.  Overthrown boat, sunset, and water.  I think I could want for little else.

I’m often asked what it was like to grow up on the coast of Maine.  I never respond the same way—“we have four seasons!” or “lobsters are cheaper than chicken!” or “there was a bagpiper who stood on his roof at night and everyone came outside to listen!” All of these are correct answers and certainly true, but their wide range in details speaks to how varied and unique a place like Maine can be.  You’ve got setting (four beautifully distinct seasons), food and agriculture (lobsters, blueberries, you name it), and characters (bagpipers, lobstermen, red-headed hippy poets like my mother).  In some ways, Maine is like a play–a full cast of characters and lots of action.  But, I have no idea how it could be staged.

Pictured: a riveting dread-locked Mainer at the 2013 North Atlantic Blues Festival in July.  I think he captures the spirit of Mainers I like best–individual, interesting, and worth getting to know. 

When recalling my childhood, my eyes have a tendency to sparkle.  Growing up on the coast of Maine was like living in two worlds: modern and old.  We had spinners, artists, and lobstermen speak at our fourth grade Career Day.  We road skiffs (small boats) to islands to visit our families and waited for the moose to get out of the road if we were too far north.

Pictured: a skiff (boat) off Hupper Island in Maine.  Twice I have lived in a place where you could only get to the house by riding one of these things.

And I know how this sounds – so very idyllic like nothing ever went wrong, but it wasn’t.  In fact, Maine has some of the highest levels of poverty in the country and the winters are cold and long and sometimes people get so depressed there’s actually a name for it: S.A.D. (“Seasonal Affective Disorder”).  And, everyone I know works incredibly hard in Maine.  But boy, is it home.

Pictured: family friend Karen (or, the “Oreo Lady” as I used to call her – the woman who gave me my first Oreo cookie!), holding back goats as she closes her barn’s door. Of course, this is after a regular work day.

So when I started driving north, I thought about these things.  I thought about how hard the people I knew worked, how beautiful the area was, and how much I couldn’t wait to eat lobster.  When I look back at my summer, it’s hard to sum up what my time in Maine was like.  Certainly, regular readers have seen the Crawfish Meet Lobster: Rediscovering Roots in Maine post, or recipes for Seafood Stock and Lobster Bisque and Seared Sugar Snap Peas.  But Maine was more than just food (although I ate quite a bit of it).  It was people, places, and lots of exploring.  It was relaxing, writing (and writing some more), and some lovely nights when I got to play scrabble, canasta, or have drinks with friends.

Here’s a look at what I can only call, “My Maine,” some stories best told through pictures.  

(for complete albums from this summer, hop on over to Flickr and checkout my ever-growing selection of images here).

Lighthouses

Pictured: the Owl’s Head Lighthouse in Owl’s Head, Maine.

Pictured: the Rockland Breakwater Lighthouse in Rockland, Maine.  The walk out to the lighthouse is an easy 1-mile trek filled with jagged stones and seaweed.  Entirely worth the walk.

Pictured: a closeup of the front of the Rockland Breakwater Lighthouse.

Lobstering

Pictured: one of my favorite photos I have ever taken: Justin Thompson hauling a trap aboard the F/V Ruthless.  But every time I see this image, I hear Justin’s voice: “Huh.  That’s weird.  Looks like I’ve got a tumor.”  Can you spot it?

Pictured: third sternman Chris aboard Ruthless taking a cigarette break.  This photo pretty much speaks for itself.

Pictured: the F/V Ruthless crew hauling traps.  I’m partial to this image because of the action and story it tells, as is my friend Jason who loves the composition.

Pictured: ugly fish found in a lobster trap.  These guys cut them up and reuse the fish as bait.

Family and Friends

Pictured: a few of my favorite people–(from left to right) Lise Duda, Peter, and Caroline climbing the steps to the Owl’s Head Lighthouse.

Pictured: Lise and her daughter Caroline outside the Owl’s Head Lighthouse.

Pictured: a truly beautiful baby at the 4th of July Parade in Thomaston, Maine.

Pictured: a friend’s kids posing with Black Beard, a volunteer performer who participates in the annual Lobster Festival in Rockland, Maine.  

Pictured: once again Karen, the “Oreo Lady,” walking her goats to the barn.

Favorite Images and Things

Pictured: I’m not entirely sure what it is, but there’s something about Maine rocks and stones that are absolutely breathtaking to me.  I can’t help but pocket speckled round stones and smooth grey ones.  Several of these rocks are coming home with me to be filled in a clear vase.  I’m now in the habit of picking up stones at places and writing the location on the back.  #greattradition

Pictured: rusted anchor gear at the Breakwater Lighthouse.

Pictured: Maine wildflower(s) – one of my favorite natural treasures of the entire state.

Pictured: carnival rides at the 2013 (66th Annual) Maine Lobster Festival.  Just like the ones I used to ride as a kid!

Pictured: a rainy–but fun–Lobster Festival Parade.  (The locals came prepared.)

Pictured: child’s eye-view of Shriners riding in their mini cars during the Lobster Festival Parade.

Pictured: more scenes from the Lobster Festival Parade.  These kids are eating candy, a treat parade participants still throw to the kids.  This is the only parade I’ve ever attended where candy is thrown from the floats.  Can anyone think of others?

Pictured: a stampede of goats on Karen’s farm.  I wish this were more in focus, but I was genuinely afraid of getting hit by these guys (they’re super friendly).  Plus, they were moving kind of fast!

Food, Food, Food

Pictured: a killer lobster roll at the 2013 North Atlantic Blues Festival with Linda.

Pictured: Gay Island Oysters at Primo Restaurant in Rockland, Maine – a picture from my first dinner date with Jason.  Not as big as Louisiana oysters, but very tasty and salty.

Pictured: Seared Sugar Snap Peas with fresh peas from Paul and Lise’s garden in South Thomaston, Maine.  Read the recipe here.

Pictured: Homemade Lobster Bisque made from leftover lobster heads, knuckles, and tails.

–Helana 

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