Journals of a soggy Maine vacation -- part one

It's a fairly gentle first day back to work after vacation: no big crises to solve, only a moderate amount of mail to sort through. I had gone through the email several days ago at home, so there were few surprises. Still, I don't feel quite up to speed yet and it reminds me of Don Marquis' aphorism: "Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday."

That's also true for the blog. We spent over a week tenting on Casco Bay, in South Freeport Maine. It's probably our favorite spot, both for its beauty and its proximity to interesting things to see and do, as well as for the memory of how we discovered the place after a hot and discouraging day a few years ago. This year had serious potential to be a disappointment: there was rain, fog and mist every day at some point. Instead of long walks or kayaking, we did more touring and reading. Still, it was relaxing and enjoyable in a way we weren't expecting. From time to time I grabbed a pad and pen, compiling a virtual blog. Over the next few days I'll post it with relevant illustrations as I have time.

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(Saturday, June 24 — about 7:30pm)

It's cooling down at the campsite; we just finished a dinner of grilled cube steaks, followed by s'mores. The fog is rolling in from the ocean, obscuring the small island half a mile away. Everything is wet from a continuous string of rainy days that softened up the ground before we arrived. The tent took on some water the first day, but we fought back with an enormous 40' by 24' polyethelene tarp, silver on the top, blue on the bottom. It completely covers the tent and extends well beyond the back and sides, giving the site a look more reminiscent of Roswell, New Mexico than South Freeport, Maine. But it works — even though it rained hard from nearly midnight to breakfasttime this morning, it was cozy and dry inside... though noisy from the pelting rain. We ventured out to find our site surrounded by a shallow moat of standing water, with mud that grabs a sandal and won't let go.

This kind of weather can be hard to handle. I was ready to pack up and head back home the first morning, but now we're having a good time. A lot of it is a sense of winning, of prevailing against physical hardship. Our neighbors aren't prevailing, though: they got off to a bad start, forgetting some of the keys to their trailer so they couldn't extend the pop-out beds. The ignominy of having to roast marshmallows over the propane stove in their non-popped-out trailer was apparently too much; they are about to leave for another campground in Old Orchard Beach that, as the woman explained loudly to someone on her cell phone, has heated sites.

I think we'll be okay after all. We won't be looking for a heated site, that's for sure and for certain.