A few days ago a friend invited me to meet him at the Deerfield Fair. I said sure, I could use a day out, and we planned to meet each other at noon. Sounds good! Until I almost got to the exit into Deerfield, there were cars lined up for a mile in the break down lane. Oh shit… So I swung aside with them and twenty minutes later I found myself in Deerfield but just barely. I was five and a half miles from the destination and it was complete gridlock. Since I was at a standstill anyway I texted my friend who then called me and decided to come pick me up at the used car place I happened to be slinking by. I didn’t know why…. but I guess he and his friend were out on their motorcycles earlier and they wanted to come pick me up, drop off the cycles and my car at this other guy’s house and wander to the fair together as a group…. This is highly unusual for me. I don’t do vehicle hopping and I’m a shit passenger besides but seeing the traffic it just made sense to go as a group and use only one parking space.
My friend’s friend was an older guy who had clearly spent all of his youth living hard and hoping to die young. I hate seeing people like that old… their bodies completely spent, creaking at every joint, seemingly miserable at their lack of mobility… SIGH. But still! What he couldn’t do walking he sure made up for in driving. Ever wonder what it’s like to drive with Hunter S Thompson? AHHHHH HOLY ASS CRACKERS CHRIST! SLOW DOWN! A DEAD MAN’S CURVE! OH MY FUCKING GOD ANOTHER ONE! I imagine it would be a little like that. Also I want to take this moment to apologize to any passengers who may have been in my car while I was driving in a similarly terrifying manner. Know that I love each and every one of you and it’s out of my system now. Sorry.
We went the back roads and immediately hit gridlock again. It was a GORGEOUS day out there. This guy said he’d never seen the traffic this bad, that the Deerfield Fair isn’t usually that crowded, and he hemmed and hawed about being stuck…. for about and hour…. before my friend asked if I was hungry.
“Always!”
“You’re not allergic to seafood are you?”
“Only one way to find out!” Crickets. OK OK, I’ll add anaphylactic shock to the list of things I shouldn’t joke about. Here I thought I was cool because earlier I said the cure to something was “a shot through the head” which elicited shock, horror, and a nervous laugh. I’ve been a bit lippy lately but regret nothing.
To make a long story short we turned around and drove to Portsmouth, probably another 45 minutes or hour away, where I took a few lovely snaps of sea gulls and learned that lobsters have compound eyes. Ah, the things you learn when your food is staring at you! But really, we got some sort of sale and it was 4 lobsters for $32. They also got a combo plate to share between us filled with fried marine miscellany. I think there were steamers, scallops, and fries. And you know what I also learned? That fresh seafood, no matter the shape, all tastes the same when it’s fresh – like nothing. It’s really a texture thing or perhaps a “I need an excuse to eat tartar sauce” thing. Either way I am not complaining! And I was STUFFED TO THE GILLS. This place was really nice as it had a porch outside right on the ocean you could watch or feed the sea gulls from. It was quite relaxing! And here’s a few snaps of boats and seas shore when we parked down the street to check out their beach.
Another hour to my car…. an hour and a half from there home… and I am bushed! And ready for another adventure next weekend! Dun dun dun!
I love going to the feed store – mostly because I rarely ever end up there without distracting myself first. Today was no different. I took a long, winding, and nonsensical route to my destination trying to find prime foliage for a nice snap or two. Indeed I got a good look at the mountains but the foliage was pretty dismal. After waiting weeks for it’s late arrival we immediately got rain afterwards… for several days. Now the trees are mostly bare. SIGH. Still, I did manage to find a trail…
I’m struggling to figure where it was exactly but I believe I just found the tail end of the Common Trail off of Grove street. There was a turn off right next to the bridge so I decided to check it out. As usual it was where I needed to be, a serendipitous and joyful experience. It wound close to the river and provided a wonderful flat walk for most of the way.
Rivers have become a source of great spiritual connection for me. Whenever I am down, hesitant, or anxious I seem to serendipitously find a river to play in. There’s nothing like a good river. Today I found a little bench halfway up the path that denoted a sweet little spot to while away the hours. There were some rocks jutting out clear to the middle and I forsook the bench to crawl out upon them. Here I sat with the gurgling of the water blocking out all other noise, the smell of the crisp autumn air mixing with that of the fresh cold water, allowing the sun to kiss my cheek as the water flowed beneath my feet. Nothing else mattered anymore, I was instantly overtaken by a sense of absolute zen.
It has become a custom of mine to splash in the water of any river I come by, reciting the closest thing to a prayer I will ever utter as I bathe my arms and hands in the brisk churning waters. “May you take away all negativity in my life and wash it down stream. May only positivity flow towards me.” Perhaps this is why rivers have gained such spiritual meaning for me. Rivers don’t stop for anything. Whenever they come across an obstacle they still a find a way, making a space for themselves even when there isn’t one. It’s a lesson I try to keep close to my heart as I overcome obstacles in my own life.
I watched the river for probably an hour. No other people came by but a squirrel and a chipmunk did visit for a while and a frog tried to commit suicide darting under my feet in the same second I was stepping down. How he escaped that I don’t know but I nearly took a header into the river trying to avoid crushing the poor little beast!
Portland is a sweet little port city, not nearly as much of a tourist town as Old Orchard Beach. I had enjoyed walking its streets before but now it was nice to return to a different portion of the city. My GPS led me to where the International Cryptozoology Museum used to be, but not knowing this I placed the Prius in a nearby parking garage and we started to walk. Portland is a city of very mixed architecture – some which appeared very Dutch, some which looked like Lego bricks, and others which seemed more relevant to Maine. I took a few snaps here and there. Katherine kept herself entertained finding ninja’d stickers posted throughout the city reading fiercely
critical liberal sentiments. The graffiti seemed almost sweet and added another layer of entertainment but where was this bigfoot museum?? Nowhere to be seen. We stopped in a used bookstore instead and oddly it had a map to the new location of the cryptozoology museum which was a seven minute car ride. So off we went to reclaim the car… only to find the parking garage would not let us out. I tried paying for my ticket but the machine kept spitting out my card, not telling me why, and asking me to re-insert the ticket. I was at a loss but with no one behind me I backed out of the toll lane, parked again, and found a machine inside to pay. With this new pre-paid ticket the toll gate actually worked. FWEW!
We spent way longer than we should have continuing to walk around all these unmarked buildings to find nothing. It was getting annoying so we circled back to the food truck and finally found Bigfoot standing around the side of that building, guarding a chicken shack and a brewery. It was a scene that was just so Maine.
We both went in and it’s a two level (but still two room) museum filled with just the most goddamn bizarre things… The bottom floor was for sea monsters and various beasts which was capped off with a five foot tall plastic ninja turtle for no reason I could see. In the display cases there were Fiji mermaids, labelled as hoaxes, but smattered aside things like a GI Joe standing next to a stuffed beaver with a plate reading, “Do giant beavers still exist?” It was completely mental. We were both getting quite a kick out of this place and I was so happy to experience it with a friend instead of going alone as I had planned a few months back.
