Down East in October

Last week I set sail with two of my roommates on Coastal Route 1 for the eastern-most part of the United States: Down East Maine. We packed up Dan's car with our surfboards, sleeping bags and an old Eureka Camping tent from my College's outing club and headed due east.

Ranging from Belfast to Quoddy Head, the Down East region is the most unexplored coastline in the East because it's simply a pain the ass to get to. It is three hours from Portland, six hours from Boston and ten hours from New York.

For two days, we cruised up Route 1, following the coastline and making trips down gravel roads in search of views.

A wind turbine nestled in a corn field.

By night we squatted on empty plots of land such as this subdivision. Early morning fog near Winter Harbor.

An outhouse in Quoddy Head State Park.

One of our squatting campsites in a housing development near Bar Harbor.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

Tucker overlooking the Atlantic.

At night my -20° F rated sleeping bag made the temperatures in the low 30's feel cozy and inviting and my wool socks and jacket kept me warm in the early morning coastal haze. After 400 miles of driving on and around Route 1, we finally crossed the border over a small cove in the Bay of Fundy and began the second leg of our trip.

Here are some more links,
Down East in October (Picasa).

Changing Seasons: Fall

Last October, I started blogging in an act of bored desperation. I had recently purchased a Canon XSI on a whim and had started taking photos of things around me and writing about things that captured my imagination. While sitting on a bench overlooking the Colby Quad, I took off my shoe and decided to toss it up in the air and take a photo. Funny how such a seemingly frivolous activity can have unforeseen positive consequences on your life.

My LL Bean Bucks overlooking the Colby Quad on chilly fall afternoon in mid October, more than a year ago. The integrated footpad disintegrated in August and I brought them by the Freeport store. Ten minutes later, I walked out with a gift card for the full retail price and immediately invested in my Butcher Mocs.

My Paul Smith Canvas Sneakers overlooking two feet of packed snow on the Colby Quad in mid January. I haven't worn these since last fall and probably won't until spring.

My Common Projects overlooking the Colby Quad in late April. Retired for the year.

My Vans Eras flying over the Colby Quad on a hot a humid day in mid August. After a summer of sockless use they smelled like the Ebola Virus and I permanently retired them a few weeks back.

My Ralph Lauren Wingtips looking glossy on October 16th after three months of blood and tears to break them sock-less. I plan on having these for years.

Since that October day last fall, I return to that bench once a season with different shoes and sit down for half an hour listening to music and throwing my shoe in the air. Confused freshmen and groups of prospective students touring the campus walk by and stare for a second or two in disbelief.

Here are some more links,
Changing Seasons (Picasa),
Changing Seasons: Summer (Picasa).

Picking Apples In October

A high of 58° with a 90% chance of rain limits most outdoor activities. On Saturday, my roommate Dan and I decided to make hard apple cider and went in search of free apples. We eventually found some overgrown trees on the side of the road near Colby. For two hours we climbed trees, shook branches and dodged falling apples.

Incoming!

Soaking wet.

All told, Dan and I picked over three hundred apples destined for our vat of brewing hard apple cider. The consummate fall activity.

Here are some more links,
Picking Apples In October (Picasa),
Fall (ART).

A Fall Drive

Fall is seeping down south in Maine; forcing leaves from trees, turning grass brown, and nudging temperatures below the frost point. The crisp smell of fall makes me smile and eager to put on my itchy wool jackets and retire my iced caffeinated beverages.

On a quiet fall morning I took the long way home through the rolling central Maine farmland and made frequent stops.

Moo's at a local organic farm. MOFGA represent.

These photos give context to a way of life that I romanticize from afar.

In the end, the detour took an extra 45 minutes, time I would give up in a heart beat.

Here are some more links,
A Drive in the Fall (Picasa),
Fall (ART).