AIN’T AMERICA GREAT!

Although I always prefer to be jetting off to exotic locales, this year we decided to keep it closer to home and a bit low key.

Steve and I took a lovely vacation to New Hampshire and Maine.

The car ride is achingly long, but due to my ongoing food obsession, I packed enough fruit, nuts, raisins and chicken to sustain us so we wouldn’t have to graze on highway junk. I love highway junk, but the car seat only has room for one big ass and I figured I’d sprout a second one if I ate that stuff day in and day out.

The chicken was rather cute. She sort of sat up in the back seat staring out the window, enjoying the breeze on her gizzard. And not once did she ask, “are we there yet!”  Ya gotta appreciate a pleasant passenger on a long haul.

First stop was New Hampshire to visit the kids, grandkids and grand dog on their vacation. The rental property was a spacious glassy multi-tiered ski house, high up perched on a mountain peak, with 360 degree  views that were spectacular. Grilling on the deck while looking into that lush greenery was so nice, although the thought of people skiing down those vertical passes made me dizzy.

We took the kids to an adorable kiddie amusement park and did several of the rides ourselves. Steve looked terrified and yelled like a girl which gave the kids quite a chuckle.

The next adventure was special to us. Steve and I are avid fishermen and we try to fish wherever we go, geography permitting. We would love it if the little ones would embrace the sport so we can take them along as they grow older.

 

This was their first time, and anticipation and emotions ran very high.

The pond was a tiny stocked pond with itty bitty rainbow trout, and the fishing gear was plastic Barbie poles. Most attempts at casting ended up in the weeds or caught up in my sneaker shoelace. It was impossibly difficult to get a good cast, but we managed a few.

8 year old Jake snagged his first fish and I thought his daddy would fall in the lake from excitement. The yelling and screaming and high fiving resembled an Olympic gold medal win, and Jake could not have been more ecstatic.

Hannah was next, and she too lured one in, but overall she was hot, tired, more interested in taking a nap and heading home for lunch. A five year old has limited attention span and fishing isn’t for the impatient.

She will grow into it hopefully, but if not, Grandma will always be happy to take her shopping instead.

Next, Jake grabbed another trout, but at last turn of the reel, the fish spit the hook and swam off causing a river of tears.

I am a very empathetic granny, and I understand disappointment through the eyes of a child, but come on….THERE’S NO CRYING IN FISHING!!

That’s why they call it fishing, not catching!  THERE IS NO CRYING IN FISHING!

We left the kids for a day to hike Mt. Washington. It was a glorious, quite rocky 4 miler with some vertical challenge, but overall simply beautiful and peaceful. We had a great picnic lunch by a bubbly creek and returned home tired, contented to hang with the kids while Mom and Dad caught dinner and a movie alone, a big big thrill for 24/7 parents.

On to Bar Harbor, Maine, charmingly pronounced “Baa Haa Baa”.

We took a sunset cruise and chuckled when someone asked “aah theya shacks in the haa baa?  That translated into “are there sharks in the harbor”!

This particular cruise had two Newfoundland sea dogs as shipmates. They accompany the captain on most trips and are quite the selling point for avid dog lovers like me who will cop a hug anytime I can. Unfortunately, these two hounds had not seen a bath tub in years, and their odor far exceeded any dead harbor fish that might have floated by. Everyone tried to stay at the very stern of the boat to avoid the downwind wafting of the two nasty Newfies.

We chatted up nice people from everywhere and shared a good laugh over the nautical stinkers. They should have a scratch and sniff on the brochure to let people know what they’re in for. Phew!

Acadia National Park is another true American treasure and we tackled that quite easily. Cadillac mountain is 7 miles round trip, but less aggressive elevations than others. We really enjoyed ourselves and made it back in time for some shopping.  Blueberry jam is the specialty in summer, and we enjoyed the taste tests in the various stores. There were moose sweatshirts and moose decals everywhere, but nary a real moose to be seen anywhere. Bummer.

A quick shower and off to lobsta, lobsta, lobsta.

Steve definitely put a dent in their abundant annual supply, and I decimated the rich lobster rolls on a daily basis. Totally yummy and affordable this year.

Portland was our last stop, a very cute town full of artsy galleries, a lively wharf with music, beer, locals and tourists alike, and more lobsta lobsta

If you ever go, Walters and David’s both get high marks for unusual creative fare with flair, and J’s Oyster Bar is down home no frills good lobster eats.

We took a nice long walk to the local organic market and bought another hot rotisserie chicken. She is resting comfortably on the ride back home and we are beginning to eye her lustily as our fifth hour in the car rolls around.

We should leave her be, but the junk food signs are calling to me at every exit, so I’ll just have to ignore them and wrestle a leg off her.

A great vacation, … and as always, ain’t America great!