Yesterday’s plan, insofar as there was a plan, was to Get Out of the House and Do Something Else.
We were in large measure, Successful.
I drove us to Coburn Gore, which, for those of you who are Unfamiliar lies on the border between Maine and Canada. It’s our closest crossing to Montreal, and, having not had any real reason to visit Montreal or Quebec in the last few years, has remained Unsurveyed by Authors Goofing Off for Quite Some Time.
It . . . is not much changed. The northern reaches of the state are much harsher in terms of landscape and standard of living than the sought-after southern points. Several of the smaller towns have aged badly. Kingfield looked . . . OK, but we’re in the skiing off-season and Kingfield really doesn’t come into its own until the first snow.
The country — harsh, yes, but grand for all of that — mountains in the distance, and then right up in your face, chains of deep green lakes, ledges of living rock two feet from the passenger side, and on the driver’s side — why no, who on earth has that much safety rail? And honestly, at the speed you’re likely going, coming down the mountain and playing with gravity, that itty-bitty safety rail isn’t gonna make one damned bit of difference.
We drove up Routes 6 and 8 — hit some road work (welcome to Maine in the summer) but not much traffic, and most of that the big rigs, going up to cross the border.
For the purposes of this discussion, Coburn Gore is a convenience store and two border stations — Canadian, and USian. For those traveling in this direction, be aware that Peppin’s convenience store has no public bathrooms — those are said to be available at the border stations. I did not check this information, so cannot tell you how many questions you might have to answer the border guard before you’re let to use a bathroom.
What Coburn Gore really needs is a Visitor Information Center, with maps, and tourist booklets; coffee and soda machines, and public bathrooms, Mind you, this isn’t going to happen, but it would make the place seem less . . . prisoned.
So, anyhow, beautiful drive on the “new” road. The first time we drove to Coburn Gore, it was a lane-and-a-half of washboard; the second time, MaineDOT was tearing down a mountain and putting in a road that the big rigs could make some time on. That road is now complete and has been for maybe 12 years. So you see we really were overdue for an Inspection.
It was 77F/25C at the border on the top of the mountain. Steve took us back down, picking up degrees as we went. When finally we raised Bingham and pulled into the rest area on Route 201 to eat our picnic, it was 88F/31C and I was thinking it might make sense to turn around and retrace our drive.
However! There were cats at home, and home we came.
Steve beat me at Scrabble, just by a squeak. We had grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, and retired to the living room with our wine, and said cats, to read until bed time.
Today, it’s back to the routine. I have bills to pay, paragraphs to write, and laundry to do. I’m also on-deck for supper, which will be! The Rest of the Quiche, and roasted asparagus. Shaw’s keeps throwing asparagus in my way, and I keep buying it, so . . .
At the moment, I believe I am unsupervised. Firefly was in for a few minutes, but then Steve went downstairs, and she rushed off to supervise his Important Work for Cat Kind in the basement.
The Big Plan for the rest of the week is to stay inside on Station Air, as we’re looking for 90F/32C, and In My Not So Humble Opinion, that is too damned hot.
. . . and I think that catches us all up.
Everybody keep warm or cool, depending on your preferences.
Today’s blog post brought to you by The Beatles, “The Magical Mystery Tour.” Here’s your link.