We Rode The Giant Water Flume

...all the way to Maine. Our campsite is wonderful, well-selected, salt water bay just 100 feet away. We arrived near dark, set up camp by rain and dark, cooked a really not at all bad Portuguese chorizo (so the wrapper said) chili over an eye burning, lung charring, smokey damp pine (2.50/bundle, local driveway, leave money in the coffee can) fire. The rain kept me up at night, and then the light, the early morning light! This morning, the rain let up enough for us to start a new fire, have eggs and Christmas boerewors (that's what we're calling them), bread, and good coffee. 

The incessant rain has led us to hiding in Bar Harbor, drying my joints out, in a coffee shop full of drenched north faces and beans. We bought some candy like good American tourists, but here is what we're looking forward to: lobsters, mussels, and clams delivered to our campsite by a local trapper. Only five fifty a pound and delivered at 5 pm. We'll do this tomorrow, when the sun is scheduled to shine. Not looking forward to stabbing the lobster in the head to kill it before grilling. Betsy's killed chickens so maybe she'll take a stab at it.  

There is an incredibly brilliant cleome outside this bakery, but that may be the rain talking. Photos will be few and faulty, as our camera literally has no name. Time to brave the rain again, figure out how we will spend the remaining light of day.