Coast to coast and back again!

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

After a yummy breakfast of blueberry pancakes, we borrowed the Inn’s life-jackets and oars and canoed on Echo Lake. The lake was just waking up – carpenters putting the final shingles on a new home, two girls in a diving competition off their dock, and a man fly-fishing near the river (he caught and released two small mouthed bass while we were there). It was a perfectly tranquil hour, as we watched the birds dive and glide across the water’s surface and the kids “fished” with lily pads. Paddling across Echo Lake was also the closest we could come to what we were sure my grandparents must have indulged in during their courting days.

Neil planning our route 

Leaves are changing color here! Already?

Goodbye Echo Lake Inn

Then we piled into the car and drove the longest 100 miles of our trip; we stopped for Eleni’s excuses three times.



Recently covered bridge along the way

Eisenhower's Interstate Highway System!

Our route twisted and turned around the White Mountains until, out of desperation, we found just the right spot to stop in Littleton, NH. Neil and I had visited Littleton eleven years ago when my friend Terry was living here, and happily, not much had changed. The Littleton diner is almost 80 years old and it prides itself on the quality of its food with good reason. We sat close to the kitchen and we could hear the conversation about the Olympics and the French (“Do you remember when everyone was boycotting French Fries? I don’t remember them getting uppity about us being in their air space when we liberated them in WWII.”), bad weather (“We got more of it coming tomorra”), and the great blueberries, squash and tomatoes that have come of it (“And you know with the produce problem, it’s good we got those gardens”).

The kids were bursting out, under, and over the booth by the time our waitress asked us for our order. She was a quick study and she gave us some friendly advice, “I have four of my own. It gets better.”

We rarely buy things for the adults on this trip, but I got overly excited about being back home in New England, so I bought a Littleton diner t-shirt. On the back it says, “Recipe for an American Renaissance: 1, Eat in Diners, 2. Ride trains, 3. Put a porch on your house, 4. Shop on Main Street, and 5. Live in a Walkable Community.”


The diner in Littleton, NH

Main Street, Littleton, NH

The ubiquitous New England sign...

Route 2 on the New Hampshire side already had its fill of Dunkin Donuts and Moose Crossing warnings by the time we hit the border, so it all happened so naturally. But still, there was something magical about seeing the sign for Maine.

We stopped for supplies at Hannafords in Rumford and readily escaped from our car only to get completely drenched by the rain. We fit in perfectly, as the rest of the customers were weather weary, too.

In the summer in Maine (and now we know, as in any small town near potential campsites), the front of the grocery stores are well stocked with Hershey’s Chocolate Bars, marshmallows, and graham crackers. We stocked up on food that wasn’t just car-ride friendly because we were close to our destination.

Oh yeah! 100% Lobstah!

Farmington, Maine is around two hours north of Portland. My family has been visiting this area for many years after one of my Dad’s friends bought an old barn in Industry, ME, just down the road from Farmington. Around twenty years ago, my Dad spent over six months turning the barn into a livable cabin, and in return, my Dad’s friend has graciously let us spend a week or two here every summer.

So around 5PM, my Dad, who drove up from Rhode Island, met us here at the cabin. We’ve balanced on the old stonewall, looked for frogs in the pond, made a house for slugs, and played some cribbage.

And this is the way we are today…feeling very at home. Twelve more days to go.