My trip to Maine...
Jul. 28th, 2010 01:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Back from vacation - and downloading pictures to the computer. Not sure what I'll do with them. May post a couple to the journal. Don't know, what do you think? Do you want to see my vacation photos? Hee, my journal - you don't get a choice. Well, you do...if I post them they'll go behind a cut-tag as always. My motto in life, I inherited from my Granny - I try not to impose my moral views, values, or beliefs on others. You can do whatever you like as long as you don't tread on people or me. (I said it's my motto, not that I'm always good at following it.)
While overall - I enjoyed my vacation, am quite happy to be back. Six days with family is more than enough. And mine isn't that dysfunctional. Actually, I'm not sure we are dysfunctional at all, except according to Momster.
The cottage we stayed at - was designed by a mad Doctor Who writer or my crazy uncle in California. There was a kitchen upstairs and downstairs. I have no idea why there was a modern kitchen upstairs. The steps lead directly to it -and the staircase had steep wooden steps, painted white and red, that my neice literally had to crawl up. She's six and fairly tall for her age. The rest of us had to stoop to avoid knocking our heads against the ceiling. At one side of the upstairs hallway there was a bathroom, with a huge clove footed tub, a washer and dryer, a toilet on one side of the tub and the sink at the opposite end. Plus a door leading out to a flat part of the roof that doesn't really go anywhere. At the other end of the hallway, past the crooked, steep wooden staircase were two bedrooms. One painted a blood pink mauvish color, with dark wood furniture and two small windows, the other painted robin's egg blue, with yellowish curtains, and pale wood furniture. Guess which one I laid claim to? The blood-red one gave me the creeps, can't think why? Possibly the sealed over heating vent at one side of the room, and the paint color. Yet, as fate would have it - it's mattress was better. I still took the robin's egg blue room. The beds? Rock hard. So hard, my neice couldn't jump on them, which is saying something. The most comfortable bed was downstairs, next to the second and only working kitchen at the tail-end of the house. It was a single bed with a trundle under it. My parents ended up on those beds, due to my father's back issues. To get to the bathroom which had a shower, my parents had to go through the kitchen and into the back living room, which was the darkest room in the house. They'd moved downstairs, because of the location of the bathroom upstairs - we kept the hall light on - for fear of taking a wrong turn and tumbling down the steps. On the bright side, our cottage was located behind the hospital - about a five minute walk if that.
The cottage was also about five minutes to the shore walk, and ten minute walk to all the town restaurants and activities. This basically means - we had privacy from the tourist crowd in Bar Harbor, but could still reach all the activities without driving.
We did have two cars. Kidbro drove up from Beacon with his family, and the folks rented one at the airport. There was a bit of fuss and bother over picking and dropping me off at the airport, because none of us were adept enough to figure out how to contact the local Bar Harbor to Bangor airport shuttle. We'd decided there wasn't one - their web site seemed perpetually under construction and when I emailed for info - no response. But, on the way back from lunch, Momster and I stumbled upon it pulling into and going down the long driveway next to the one that lead to our cottage. This is after a lengthy discussion about the shuttle not in being in existence, because we couldn't figure out how to contact it. Momster took one look at the shuttle and told me - uh, we won't mention we saw it to anyone. We never saw the shuttle. Understood? I merely nodded. Kidbro, stubborn to a fault, managed to persuade my parents to let him drive me to the airport. The airport is about an hour and a half away. Or 4 hours round trip. He, understandably, did not like the idea of my 74 year old father, who could barely walk due to severe back pain, driving me to the airport. I agreed with him. And went with the flow. Even though the idea of two hours driving with kidbro was not something I wanted to deal with. Turned out fine, of course. Kidbro likes to drive, he finds it relaxing.
On the plane ride home - I chatted with a 77 year old woman from a small town in Mississippi. Very religious woman, reading the bible, with a black net cap on her head, and a light cotton, old-style dress - making me think of Little House on the Prarie. Her entire family - all women, various ages, had the same attire. We'd seen them in Bar Harbor, and guessed Amish or Quaker. But I'm not sure either are in Mississippi. Lovely lady, but hard to hear over the whirl of the plane. On way down, I talked to a freelance marketer who lived in Bar Harbor with her dog. Her entire family lives in Maine and she can't envision living anywhere else. That's the only thing these two very different women had in common, both lived in one place their entire lives or one state as the case may be. One in the deep south, the other in the far north. One was 77 years of age, and uncertain of all these new things and stayed firm in the past, reading The Story ( a book of stories based on The Bible). The other, was late 20s, struggling to grab hold of new technology. Spending most of her time listening to her iphone and fiddling with it. But in talking to them both - one upon taking off, and one upon landing - I realized they shared something I can't imagine - they had formed deep roots to a place, a state, and their family that lived there. Both were returning home from family excursions, clearly not their firsts. While I was returning from one as well - but in my case, mine was unique and my family when they returned home would not be anywhere near me.
Sort of envious - can't quite imagine having my entire family within shooting distance let alone in the same state, even though my brother is - we rarely see each other. OR having deep roots to a place. Talked to kid-bro about it, and he admitted to a similar envy - that it would be nice to have deep roots to a place. Neither of us do or ever really will. We come from nomadic parents - who love to travel and move about. We've both lived in at least four states in our lifetimes, and our extended family is scattered across the country and represented on both coasts. We've been to almost all fifty states, and to at least five foreign countries. The idea of staying in one place your entire life, and having all your friends and family living in that one place is weird to us. We can't wrap our brains around it. And I think, to a degree, we both envy it a bit. The road not traveled and all that.
The most striking thing about the people in Maine is they all look alike. All white. I think I saw maybe two or three people who were not white, outside of the quintessential Japanese tourists. The Japanese have out-done the Americans when it comes to tourism. Used to be quintessential American tourist. Well still is, but the Japanese have given us a run for our money. That's the thing about the Northeast - it tends to be mostly white, most of the people's ancestors hail from Scandanvia, France, Russia, or the UK. Lots of Northern Europeans.
The Indians or Native Americans who once lived up in Maine, have moved down south to Lousiana.
Although there are a few still up there. And the accent is sort of like a mix of Massachustus and New Hampshire, with a slight nasal twang and a long R, that reminds me of Irish.
They have four main industries according to the guides: tourism, lumber, lobster, and potatoes.
Blueberries while plentiful are further down the list. Surprised ice cream wasn't on it - swear never seen so many ice cream places in my life. And I've traveled around. Florida doesn't have this much ice cream. Probably because in Florida, it melts? Understand the tourism - the scenery up there is spectacular. If you've ever been to the Lake Country in England? You get the picture. Or maybe the coastline in Oregon and Washington.
On Monday, we went Whale Watching. And no, I did not bring a camera. Decided it would just hamper me. Glad I didn't. Was windy on that boat. And by windy - I mean gusts that push you back against the handrails, and make your eyes sting. Did it with the family: bro, niece, sisinlaw, and folks. Sisinlaw got seasick. I almost did, but got outside and on the bow where the action was as fast as I could, while the folks sat inside and watched the action from the windows. Warm and comfy. I rode up front with Kidbro and neice and sisinlaw, before she had to pull neice inside for some hot chocolat, then got seasick. The boat itself, holds about 200-300 people. It has four tiers. And is a catermoran. Along the bow - there are metal guard rails that you can hold onto to avoid being blown overboard. Took a long time to see anything. We also had to go pretty far out into the Gulf of Maine - which flows into the Ocean, a feeding ground for about five to six different breeds of whale. Saw two bailing whales up close and personal. There were at least five spouting off in the area. Also saw a school of dolphins, and a gray seal, plus a bunch of birds. The type of whale we saw up close - is on the endangered species list, called a thin-lipped bailing whale - I think. Too lazy to google it. And I'm sure the spelling is wrong. Never done it before, was quite entertained once the action started.
Did it mostly by myself - family members were somewhat scattered around the boat.
Day before we went up to Jordan Pond - which has a huge restaurant that specializes in Pop-Overs. (Was the only person who did not eat the pop-overs, outside of Dadster who didn't come.) The pond itself was quite beautiful - will post photos in next posting. This one is too long. The restaurant? Okay. Had the sherry, cream, lobster bisque - far too rich for my tummy, and a raspberry lemonaide - which was too sweet and too sour. I recommend the pond, skip the restaurant.
Didn't do much of anything on Saturday, it being a rainy day and all. We basically read, wandered about town and did the shore walk. Relaxing day. Had a lovely dinner, before kidbro showed up early with family in tow.
Friday? Went on not one but two sight-seeing tours. First was a trolly ride up Cadiallac Mountain, tallest Mountain in Maine. May be tallest on the East Coast. Mountains on the East Coast aren't that high, about the height of the foothills in Colorado and Wyoming. But if you've never seen the mountains on the West Coast of the US, I'm guessing you'd think they were pretty high. All a matter of perspective. This landscape, I'm told, is even more spectacular in winter - partly because there are no people about. We meandered our way down to thunder hole.
Thunder hole is where the 24 Darwin Award Semi-Finalists got swept off to sea, they saved most of them, I think two or three were killed. Not sure if you were following the news, but last year during that hurricane/tropical storm - there was tidal surge, which brought out all the tourists and locals to watch the surf. Thunder Hole - and I'll post a picture later, is where the ocean and land are fighting an on-going turf war. There's an outcropping of rocks, the ocean comes in and attempts to pull the rocks away, and surges up through them, creating blasts of thunder, as the rocks hold fast. Water cascading upwards. Three things have to be in effect for this to happen - one - has to be high tide, two - a storm or surge - rough seas, three - rain or enough water. When it does happen the locals will line up at least two streets above thunder hole, because the waves will go over the street below and flood it. The tourists, who ignore the signs, go down to the rails and rocks and get washed out to sea - as happened here.
The afternoon tour - was a boat tour Frenchman's Bay. We were staying on Mount Desert Island (which is about as far from a desert as one can get), an island in Frenchman's Bay. Saw Egg Rock Island and Lighthouse - a broken lighthouse that no one lives in any longer due to weather conditions. It has a foghorn that broke two years back, after the coast guard put it on automatic. So now the horn blows all the time, and not just when there is fog. Outside of that, it is basically a bald eagle feeding ground, with a lot of seals and birds. Saw three bald eagles on this tour. And a lot of stately mansions built precariously on cliffs.
The tour-guide talked a lot about lobster fishing. Also about the coastline. There's a stretch of gravel that leads to an island off Mount Desert Island, called Bar Island. You can visit it at low tide (which Momster, Kidbro, Sisinlaw, and Neice did while I was busy flying home yesterday.). This is a source of great amusement to the locals. You can't or aren't supposed to camp or live on Bar Island. There's nothing on it, but trees and birds and rocks. But you can visit it during low tide. Well, not everyone pays attention to this rule. One day a jeep and its inhabitants got stranded on Bar Island over night (you can drive across this stretch of land), and in the morning, at low tide, drove back only to be stopped by the coast guard and fined $200 for illegal overnighting. Another story - two kayakers drove their Ford Surburban onto the land mass, unpacked their kayaks and lost track of time. When they returned to their car, they couldn't find it at first - it was six inches underwater.
Didn't buy much, a couple of earrings, and a signed copy of The Lobster Chronicles by Linda Greenlaw. Linda Greenlaw wrote the Hungry Ocean, and is a former Swordfish Fisherman and Captain. She's written four books now, including a mystery novel - which Dadster picked up at Sherman's Book Store - the oldest book store in Maine. Since 1833. Dadster's current hobby is to hunt down the books of regional mystery writers in every place he visits. He will buy a few of them and take them home to read. As he puts it - you can't find regional writers elsewhere, they don't tend to publish them outside their region or very broadly. Dadster and I had a lengthy chat about the publishing industry - a constant source of frustration for both of us.
My hobby, far less rewarding than Dadster's, is to hunt for books published by the professional writers on my flist/live journal. Most of them are sci-fantasy writers, which means I never find them in bookstores. Bookstores, that aren't the big chains, have maybe one small shelf dedicated to sci-fantasy. And all the books on it are by the usual suspects or pop sci-fi pulp novelists who have appeared on the NY Bestseller list. Terry Goodwin, Orson Scott Card, Tolkien, CS Lewis, Brooks, and a few newcomers like Butcher, someone named Kristen Britain,
Lois McMaster Bujold (not a newcomer, but her fantasy stuff was there but not her sci-fi),
Greg Bear, and David Webb. Ellen Kushner, Catherine Valente, Caitlin Keirin, et al were nowhere to be found. Of course. I've only found those at The Strand or via Amazon. So, like I said, Dadster's hobby is far more lucrative then mine and proof that if I want to get published and make a living at it - not to write in the sci-fantasy genre. Not that I do, but just saying.
Okay off to eat lunch. May post photos later.
While overall - I enjoyed my vacation, am quite happy to be back. Six days with family is more than enough. And mine isn't that dysfunctional. Actually, I'm not sure we are dysfunctional at all, except according to Momster.
The cottage we stayed at - was designed by a mad Doctor Who writer or my crazy uncle in California. There was a kitchen upstairs and downstairs. I have no idea why there was a modern kitchen upstairs. The steps lead directly to it -and the staircase had steep wooden steps, painted white and red, that my neice literally had to crawl up. She's six and fairly tall for her age. The rest of us had to stoop to avoid knocking our heads against the ceiling. At one side of the upstairs hallway there was a bathroom, with a huge clove footed tub, a washer and dryer, a toilet on one side of the tub and the sink at the opposite end. Plus a door leading out to a flat part of the roof that doesn't really go anywhere. At the other end of the hallway, past the crooked, steep wooden staircase were two bedrooms. One painted a blood pink mauvish color, with dark wood furniture and two small windows, the other painted robin's egg blue, with yellowish curtains, and pale wood furniture. Guess which one I laid claim to? The blood-red one gave me the creeps, can't think why? Possibly the sealed over heating vent at one side of the room, and the paint color. Yet, as fate would have it - it's mattress was better. I still took the robin's egg blue room. The beds? Rock hard. So hard, my neice couldn't jump on them, which is saying something. The most comfortable bed was downstairs, next to the second and only working kitchen at the tail-end of the house. It was a single bed with a trundle under it. My parents ended up on those beds, due to my father's back issues. To get to the bathroom which had a shower, my parents had to go through the kitchen and into the back living room, which was the darkest room in the house. They'd moved downstairs, because of the location of the bathroom upstairs - we kept the hall light on - for fear of taking a wrong turn and tumbling down the steps. On the bright side, our cottage was located behind the hospital - about a five minute walk if that.
The cottage was also about five minutes to the shore walk, and ten minute walk to all the town restaurants and activities. This basically means - we had privacy from the tourist crowd in Bar Harbor, but could still reach all the activities without driving.
We did have two cars. Kidbro drove up from Beacon with his family, and the folks rented one at the airport. There was a bit of fuss and bother over picking and dropping me off at the airport, because none of us were adept enough to figure out how to contact the local Bar Harbor to Bangor airport shuttle. We'd decided there wasn't one - their web site seemed perpetually under construction and when I emailed for info - no response. But, on the way back from lunch, Momster and I stumbled upon it pulling into and going down the long driveway next to the one that lead to our cottage. This is after a lengthy discussion about the shuttle not in being in existence, because we couldn't figure out how to contact it. Momster took one look at the shuttle and told me - uh, we won't mention we saw it to anyone. We never saw the shuttle. Understood? I merely nodded. Kidbro, stubborn to a fault, managed to persuade my parents to let him drive me to the airport. The airport is about an hour and a half away. Or 4 hours round trip. He, understandably, did not like the idea of my 74 year old father, who could barely walk due to severe back pain, driving me to the airport. I agreed with him. And went with the flow. Even though the idea of two hours driving with kidbro was not something I wanted to deal with. Turned out fine, of course. Kidbro likes to drive, he finds it relaxing.
On the plane ride home - I chatted with a 77 year old woman from a small town in Mississippi. Very religious woman, reading the bible, with a black net cap on her head, and a light cotton, old-style dress - making me think of Little House on the Prarie. Her entire family - all women, various ages, had the same attire. We'd seen them in Bar Harbor, and guessed Amish or Quaker. But I'm not sure either are in Mississippi. Lovely lady, but hard to hear over the whirl of the plane. On way down, I talked to a freelance marketer who lived in Bar Harbor with her dog. Her entire family lives in Maine and she can't envision living anywhere else. That's the only thing these two very different women had in common, both lived in one place their entire lives or one state as the case may be. One in the deep south, the other in the far north. One was 77 years of age, and uncertain of all these new things and stayed firm in the past, reading The Story ( a book of stories based on The Bible). The other, was late 20s, struggling to grab hold of new technology. Spending most of her time listening to her iphone and fiddling with it. But in talking to them both - one upon taking off, and one upon landing - I realized they shared something I can't imagine - they had formed deep roots to a place, a state, and their family that lived there. Both were returning home from family excursions, clearly not their firsts. While I was returning from one as well - but in my case, mine was unique and my family when they returned home would not be anywhere near me.
Sort of envious - can't quite imagine having my entire family within shooting distance let alone in the same state, even though my brother is - we rarely see each other. OR having deep roots to a place. Talked to kid-bro about it, and he admitted to a similar envy - that it would be nice to have deep roots to a place. Neither of us do or ever really will. We come from nomadic parents - who love to travel and move about. We've both lived in at least four states in our lifetimes, and our extended family is scattered across the country and represented on both coasts. We've been to almost all fifty states, and to at least five foreign countries. The idea of staying in one place your entire life, and having all your friends and family living in that one place is weird to us. We can't wrap our brains around it. And I think, to a degree, we both envy it a bit. The road not traveled and all that.
The most striking thing about the people in Maine is they all look alike. All white. I think I saw maybe two or three people who were not white, outside of the quintessential Japanese tourists. The Japanese have out-done the Americans when it comes to tourism. Used to be quintessential American tourist. Well still is, but the Japanese have given us a run for our money. That's the thing about the Northeast - it tends to be mostly white, most of the people's ancestors hail from Scandanvia, France, Russia, or the UK. Lots of Northern Europeans.
The Indians or Native Americans who once lived up in Maine, have moved down south to Lousiana.
Although there are a few still up there. And the accent is sort of like a mix of Massachustus and New Hampshire, with a slight nasal twang and a long R, that reminds me of Irish.
They have four main industries according to the guides: tourism, lumber, lobster, and potatoes.
Blueberries while plentiful are further down the list. Surprised ice cream wasn't on it - swear never seen so many ice cream places in my life. And I've traveled around. Florida doesn't have this much ice cream. Probably because in Florida, it melts? Understand the tourism - the scenery up there is spectacular. If you've ever been to the Lake Country in England? You get the picture. Or maybe the coastline in Oregon and Washington.
On Monday, we went Whale Watching. And no, I did not bring a camera. Decided it would just hamper me. Glad I didn't. Was windy on that boat. And by windy - I mean gusts that push you back against the handrails, and make your eyes sting. Did it with the family: bro, niece, sisinlaw, and folks. Sisinlaw got seasick. I almost did, but got outside and on the bow where the action was as fast as I could, while the folks sat inside and watched the action from the windows. Warm and comfy. I rode up front with Kidbro and neice and sisinlaw, before she had to pull neice inside for some hot chocolat, then got seasick. The boat itself, holds about 200-300 people. It has four tiers. And is a catermoran. Along the bow - there are metal guard rails that you can hold onto to avoid being blown overboard. Took a long time to see anything. We also had to go pretty far out into the Gulf of Maine - which flows into the Ocean, a feeding ground for about five to six different breeds of whale. Saw two bailing whales up close and personal. There were at least five spouting off in the area. Also saw a school of dolphins, and a gray seal, plus a bunch of birds. The type of whale we saw up close - is on the endangered species list, called a thin-lipped bailing whale - I think. Too lazy to google it. And I'm sure the spelling is wrong. Never done it before, was quite entertained once the action started.
Did it mostly by myself - family members were somewhat scattered around the boat.
Day before we went up to Jordan Pond - which has a huge restaurant that specializes in Pop-Overs. (Was the only person who did not eat the pop-overs, outside of Dadster who didn't come.) The pond itself was quite beautiful - will post photos in next posting. This one is too long. The restaurant? Okay. Had the sherry, cream, lobster bisque - far too rich for my tummy, and a raspberry lemonaide - which was too sweet and too sour. I recommend the pond, skip the restaurant.
Didn't do much of anything on Saturday, it being a rainy day and all. We basically read, wandered about town and did the shore walk. Relaxing day. Had a lovely dinner, before kidbro showed up early with family in tow.
Friday? Went on not one but two sight-seeing tours. First was a trolly ride up Cadiallac Mountain, tallest Mountain in Maine. May be tallest on the East Coast. Mountains on the East Coast aren't that high, about the height of the foothills in Colorado and Wyoming. But if you've never seen the mountains on the West Coast of the US, I'm guessing you'd think they were pretty high. All a matter of perspective. This landscape, I'm told, is even more spectacular in winter - partly because there are no people about. We meandered our way down to thunder hole.
Thunder hole is where the 24 Darwin Award Semi-Finalists got swept off to sea, they saved most of them, I think two or three were killed. Not sure if you were following the news, but last year during that hurricane/tropical storm - there was tidal surge, which brought out all the tourists and locals to watch the surf. Thunder Hole - and I'll post a picture later, is where the ocean and land are fighting an on-going turf war. There's an outcropping of rocks, the ocean comes in and attempts to pull the rocks away, and surges up through them, creating blasts of thunder, as the rocks hold fast. Water cascading upwards. Three things have to be in effect for this to happen - one - has to be high tide, two - a storm or surge - rough seas, three - rain or enough water. When it does happen the locals will line up at least two streets above thunder hole, because the waves will go over the street below and flood it. The tourists, who ignore the signs, go down to the rails and rocks and get washed out to sea - as happened here.
The afternoon tour - was a boat tour Frenchman's Bay. We were staying on Mount Desert Island (which is about as far from a desert as one can get), an island in Frenchman's Bay. Saw Egg Rock Island and Lighthouse - a broken lighthouse that no one lives in any longer due to weather conditions. It has a foghorn that broke two years back, after the coast guard put it on automatic. So now the horn blows all the time, and not just when there is fog. Outside of that, it is basically a bald eagle feeding ground, with a lot of seals and birds. Saw three bald eagles on this tour. And a lot of stately mansions built precariously on cliffs.
The tour-guide talked a lot about lobster fishing. Also about the coastline. There's a stretch of gravel that leads to an island off Mount Desert Island, called Bar Island. You can visit it at low tide (which Momster, Kidbro, Sisinlaw, and Neice did while I was busy flying home yesterday.). This is a source of great amusement to the locals. You can't or aren't supposed to camp or live on Bar Island. There's nothing on it, but trees and birds and rocks. But you can visit it during low tide. Well, not everyone pays attention to this rule. One day a jeep and its inhabitants got stranded on Bar Island over night (you can drive across this stretch of land), and in the morning, at low tide, drove back only to be stopped by the coast guard and fined $200 for illegal overnighting. Another story - two kayakers drove their Ford Surburban onto the land mass, unpacked their kayaks and lost track of time. When they returned to their car, they couldn't find it at first - it was six inches underwater.
Didn't buy much, a couple of earrings, and a signed copy of The Lobster Chronicles by Linda Greenlaw. Linda Greenlaw wrote the Hungry Ocean, and is a former Swordfish Fisherman and Captain. She's written four books now, including a mystery novel - which Dadster picked up at Sherman's Book Store - the oldest book store in Maine. Since 1833. Dadster's current hobby is to hunt down the books of regional mystery writers in every place he visits. He will buy a few of them and take them home to read. As he puts it - you can't find regional writers elsewhere, they don't tend to publish them outside their region or very broadly. Dadster and I had a lengthy chat about the publishing industry - a constant source of frustration for both of us.
My hobby, far less rewarding than Dadster's, is to hunt for books published by the professional writers on my flist/live journal. Most of them are sci-fantasy writers, which means I never find them in bookstores. Bookstores, that aren't the big chains, have maybe one small shelf dedicated to sci-fantasy. And all the books on it are by the usual suspects or pop sci-fi pulp novelists who have appeared on the NY Bestseller list. Terry Goodwin, Orson Scott Card, Tolkien, CS Lewis, Brooks, and a few newcomers like Butcher, someone named Kristen Britain,
Lois McMaster Bujold (not a newcomer, but her fantasy stuff was there but not her sci-fi),
Greg Bear, and David Webb. Ellen Kushner, Catherine Valente, Caitlin Keirin, et al were nowhere to be found. Of course. I've only found those at The Strand or via Amazon. So, like I said, Dadster's hobby is far more lucrative then mine and proof that if I want to get published and make a living at it - not to write in the sci-fantasy genre. Not that I do, but just saying.
Okay off to eat lunch. May post photos later.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 05:54 pm (UTC)The latest Maine mystery I enjoyed was The Poacher's Son (http://www.amazon.com/Poachers-Son-Mike-Bowditch-Mysteries/dp/0312558465/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1280339584&sr=1-1) and my favorite non fiction book is We Took to the Woods (http://www.amazon.com/Took-Woods-2nd-Louise-Rich/dp/0892727365/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1280339642&sr=1-1).
Enjoy your trip!
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 08:02 pm (UTC)I can see why - it's pleasant up there, cooler than the rest of the country, and lots of outdoor activities. Plus easy enough to get to and beautiful. Their heat wave is what we get normally this time of year - 80s and 70s.