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It's amazing how easy it is to become acclimated to Maine's lifestyle, even though it's such a change from my usual lifestyle. I haven't at all wanted to log onto the net, I'm not especially bummed that my cell phone is constantly in roam, I don't mind the fact that the roads here are few and far between, and mostly, I don't mind that I've only seen one Starbucks in the entire state thus far. And yes, I know what you're saying: I've only been here a few days, and I couldn't live this way forever, and really I'm not addicted to Starbucks (and make it a point to express the fact that it's overkill and "over-convenience" how many there are in the world/in a mile radius where I come from, etc. etc., etc.). But there is no withdrawal. I feel like I've stepped into a time portal or something and have gone back to the point in time before everyone started using digital technology as life support. And man, it's great.

Conquering the King

The first stop on Friday was the no frills, fresh from the sea, eat like locals, get your hands dirty Round Pond Lobster Fisherman's Co-Op. Mmm... lobster, real lobster. I told Keith we couldn't leave Maine without getting our hands on some seafood. Despite never trying lobster before, he was a good sport and gave it a go. I can't say he cared for it much, and didn't bother with our steamers... but it was funny to watch him try to eat it (reference the videos, if interested in some lobster eating humor). It's been a while since I've tried to break open a lobster, so I probably wasn't as efficient as I could have been, but what I had was scrumptious. Note to self: find liaison to deliver fresh Maine lobster to me in Champaign.

Meeting the Keeper of the Coast

If there is one common theme woven through this trip, it has been the landmarks. Or the clichés. Perhaps it's the inner tourist in me that I'm slowly getting out of, but everywhere we have gone so far has been emblematic (read: cliché and touristy) of the location we were at: the National Mall in DC, City Hall in Philadelphia, the Empire State Building in NYC. And while it's true that you have to see these sights, and clichés are born out of truth (actually that might be stereotypes, but it still applies here), the cliché of going to a lighthouse in Maine defines cliché becoming reality more than anything else I have experienced. Maine IS lighthouses. Lighthouses ARE Maine. The two go hand in hand.

The lighthouse at Pemaquid Point may not be the most famous lighthouse in Maine that I know of, or it may be... how would I know, but I can't imagine any other one topping this one in terms of aesthetics. The lighthouse stands on top of wave ridden rocks and seems to challenge the ocean to try and topple it. The lighthouse, rather small and picturesque compared to the rugged coastline, stands with its keeper's house on top of the wave eaten and surf clawed slope of granite that are just remarkable to climb around on. The granite has streaks of colors and trenches where you can imagine that have tried to battle the ocean for hundreds and hundreds of years. And all the while, the light house keeps a slow and steady, diligent watch on the restless, encroaching ocean. I really enjoyed getting to the tip of the jutting rock and at some risk, stand there while the Atlantic pounded in back of me and all around me. It was quite thrilling really. In fact, walking along the whole coast line was thrilling... at any point a huge swell of water could come crashing up the rocks in a display of foam and shower of salt water. Keith got hit by a big one, soaking him from the waist down. We also spent a good amount of time just watching the water roll in and out of little cracks, crevices, and pools around the base of the land which was really cool.

After our time on the rocks, we followed the lines and streaks up to the top to get a pseudo tour of lighthouse. It was really more us talking to the guy who maintains it at the base of the lighthouse until the people who were up at the top came down and we were allowed up. I've got to tell you too... the stairs were really narrow, and when you get up to where the light is, there is no room! But the view was awesome, and the light, a working 4th order Fresnel light, was actually pretty interesting in itself. I am really starting to like lighthouses though; I can see why people travel with the intent of seeing many of them. It reminds me of the people that try to hit every single ball park in a season or a summer and catch a home game... maybe not exactly the same thing, but it still reminds me of it nonetheless. Either way, I'd take a lighthouse trip in a heartbeat.

The rest of the day was spent lounging around the campsite and looking at critters and shells in the ocean, which if I haven't mentioned before is absolutely awesome to have right down the path from where the tent is. Perfect really. I'm really loving this trip, and tomorrow should get even better: we're heading out to Monhegan Island for a bit of "real Maine" action... or so says the boat chartering ferry people's flier. Yay!

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