Maine - Day 28

Yellowstone Park Campground

Tuesday, 28 August 2018

today's route

I heard on the news this morning that a 3-masted windjammer called Victory Chimes is the only privately-owned item that appears on a state quarter, and it’s on Maine.  It was on the news because it's for sale and can be yours for the bargain price of $650,000.  But it's really pretty.

Victory Chimes

Also on the news is concern about Maine’s governor, who has been hospitalized for the last 3 days with an unspecified medical problem.  People aren’t really pushing for him to disclose the problem, but they are concerned about who can take over for him if he’s incapacitated.  Maine is one of only 7 states that doesn’t have a lieutenant governor; its constitution specifies what happens if the governor dies but not what happens if for some reason he’s unable to fulfill his official duties.  I’m guessing this question wouldn’t have come up if he’d just say what happened to him, but he isn’t, leaving everyone to speculate about incapacitation.  Odd situation.

Today I drove back down to the coast, going north on Route 1 through the Rachel Carson National Wildlife Reserve to Kennebunk.  From there I turned southish, along Kennebunk Beach (see yesterday’s note about York’s Long Beach for a ditto description here).

George HW Bush's house

the president's house, internet version

the Bush compound

By following Beach Road along the coast, I came upon an excellent view of Pres. Bush Sr.’s home.  That road is very narrow and winding, but along the eastern side of that little peninsula is where you can see the house, and the town has sensibly put up wall-to-wall signs saying don’t stop here, there’s a parking area farther down.  And sure enough, there is, which is where I was when I took this photo.  I’m sorry but it was still fairly early in the morning, so the sun obscured my photo a little.  Because I’m sure you’re fascinated, I’m including an internet photo of the house, and an internet photo of the whole compound.  These buildings take up the entire peninsula known as Walker’s Point.  As the road goes by, it’s easy to see the security gate at the entrance to the peninsula.  Those poor people didn’t have much chance for privacy with that kind of set-up.  But it’s a beautiful location.

In the neighborhood is a monastery – St. Anthony’s Franciscan Monastery – that allows the public in the daylight hours; I hear the grounds are beautiful and peaceful.  There’s a Guest House on the grounds that’s open for public guests.  I just didn’t expect a monastery on the Maine coast, though I suppose I should have.

I went a little farther along the coast, aiming for Cape Porpoise and a view of the Goat Island Lighthouse, which the internet swore could be easily seen from the end of Pier Road.  Trustingly, I drove out to the end of Pier Road and found a private restaurant, with a parking lot that had signs saying absolutely no RVs here, and parking only for restaurant patrons.  I can take a hint when it’s not really a hint, but had to do some backing and forthing to get out of the tiny parking lot, which I’d gone into because I was hoping I can see the lighthouse and grab a quick photo before anybody got upset.  No view and no photo.

So I managed to get out of the parking lot and went just a little farther down the road because it looked like there was a boat launch there and I thought there’d be a turnaround (it was a boat launch, after all) and maybe a view.  That was an enormous mistake and I don’t know how long I’d have had to sit there if a restaurant patron hadn’t taken pity on me.  See, people parked along that turnaround that was, in fact, there and parked in such a way that there really wasn’t room for my 8’ wide RV to get through.  I had to come around the turn with cars parked on both sides, and the angle they left me would have been a bit of a squeeze for a car, let alone a large pickup – and for me it was paralyzing.

So I sat there, stuck, wondering how long I’d have to wait for the car owners to come back from whatever boat trip they were on, and a nice local woman came across the road from the restaurant’s parking lot to the restaurant, and I waved at her and begged her for help.  I think I must have been asking for the sort of help she’d never had to give before, because she didn’t look at all sure of herself, but she took one look at my clearly desperate situation and agreed.  She managed to inch me through that spot – and I do mean inch – and patiently checked both sides over and over and had me turn this way or that or straighten out the wheel – I think it took 5 minutes but felt like an hour.  She was so nice about it I was ready to buy her lunch or something.  But she trotted off really quickly, apparently afraid I’d ask her to do something else impossible.  What a situation.  And once again I’m thankful I’m not any longer than a 24’er.

And I never did even see the lighthouse. I’m including an internet photo here. 

Goat Island Lighthouse

Finally, back in Cape Porpoise, I stopped in front of a pretty church and walked the dogs around town a bit – their town post office is inside their local market – and generally had a good rest.  That street the church was on was the usual narrow village street – uphill – and I wasn’t about to try a turn-around there, so I drove up the street to find the road dead-ended and was just about to make a Hail Mary turnaround when a young woman with a baby in a stroller told me that little lane off to the right came out back by the village market.  So, again trustingly, off I went down the lane and she was right (unlike Google).

Not satisfied with my near fiascos so far today I set off down another local road, looking for the Seashore Trolley Museum, which I found with no trouble!  Yea!  I found some shade to park in – it was seriously hot and humid (the temp and the humidity were about the same) and there was almost no breeze, so I was worried about leaving the critters, who all had fur coats.

But I did anyway and for $10 (senior fee) I got a great ride on an old trolley.  The one I was on was from New Haven, Conn., and among other things transported Yale students to football games with about 5 times the recommended number of passengers.  Among other things, I learned:

• the forestland the trolley was running through used to be all cleared off for dairy farms; the dairy farmers would flag down the trolley as it passed by on its route between Kennebunk and Biddeford
• the Brooklyn Dodgers team was originally named the Brooklyn Trolleydodgers (guess why) but the name got shortened by use
• trolleys allowed the mills in Sanford (see Sunday’s post) to function as they provided affordable transport for workers to the mills
• in the same way, streetcars allowed cities to expand and suburbs to be established
• trolleys between towns could be quite high speed – the Portland to Lewiston train was clocked at 78 mph
• in 1914, former president Theodore Roosevelt rode that trolley back from a moose-hunting trip in the wilds of Maine
• trolleys were used to haul freight as well as for passengers
• the Sanford Mills Co. and Goodall Worsted Co. used up to 300 tons of coal/day, and the trolleys hauled that coal from the ports up to the mills
• to help convince the general public that electric trolleys were safe, streetcar companies built luxurious cars with rare wood inlays, window shades, cut glass windows, polished brass fittings, comfortable seats
• the museum has the trolley that was used in the original Taking of Pelham 1-2-3 movie with Walter Matthau
• the museum includes not only trolleys they’ve renovated but also a workshop where visitors can watch the restorations underway
• the trolley I rode had old fading signs advertising Burma Shave, Gaines dog food, Maidenform brassieres, and Viceroy cigarettes – and the short 30-minute ride provided the best breeze all day and made me feel guilty for leaving the critters without it

my Connecticut trolley

 The plaque explains the building, which is made of tin.  I know because I thunked it to be sure.

And from there it was time to head back to the campground before we all died from the humidity.

We passed back through Kennebunk and I made a detour to see a home called the Wedding Cake House – I think because it’s so elegant. You can probably see the no trespassing signs the owners have posted and can guess how much trouble they’ve had with idiots tromping around in their front yard.

Wedding Cake House

I also drove around Kennebunk for a bit, trying to find a spot where I could stop to take a photo of this church and finally resorted to the internet.  This is the First Parish Unitarian Church, built in 1773.  The bell was cast by Paul Revere in 1803 and is still rung.  The clock was built in 1883 and still runs.  The organ inside dates from 1900.  Of course, everything’s been refurbished along the way, but it’s still all what you might call genuine antiques.  Pretty neat, huh?