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Warning: A long long entry follows...
Welcome back to all readers of the journal, glad to be home but of course even more glad to get up here and dish on the details of the trip.
When last we spoke on Tuesday, Doug's VW had died.
The guy who towed it to his shop reported to Doug on Wednesday morning that he couldn't fix the problem. Something involving words like timing belt and valves and cylinders, I'm not mechanically inclined so... whoosh, over my head. He had it towed from there to the nearest VW dealer. We packed up the truck and were fully ready to leave by 3pm. Then the car guy called and Doug put some time in to calling around to VW repair guys to see if someone could take the car. I did dishes, did more laundry folding, and sent Jessica over to the house where she was cat sitting. She called the cat -- he didn't respond.
She watered the garden, which was another task she had been given, and waited for the cat. He still didn't show. So she called here worried, not knowing what to do. I went over and helped her look, and we watered the garden in other areas, and after about a half hour, the cat came back. Seems he's not used to being let in after 5pm and his little internal clock told him that it was time to come home and wait for her at about 4:30.
We were on the road at 5:30, and stopped in New Hampshire to procure the needed noisemakers for the darkness segment of the party. We went to the same place as last year, they had "buy one get one free" going on, so we obtained a little bit of fun in colorful boxes and resumed our trip by 7pm. We encountered little traffic, had dinner in Waterville, and arrived at the house at about 10:30. We all settled into the apartment to sleep after chatting with A&M. Slept like the dead.
Thursday Aaron and Michelle both had to work so we entertained ourselves and had fun with the usual Maine stuff -- swimming, sunning, hanging around. We visited Michelle at work in downtown at the park info booth, and we went to check on the cache that we planted last year and read the log book. That was fun. We also went to another cache right near it which we had done back in like November, sat in the dark in the fog and tried to see the ocean. WE gave up and went back to the truck.
The dogs really enjoyed being out -- it had been a few days since they'd been out to play hard, mostly because of Jack's foot. I was unbelievably worried about him, but it held up well with the stitches even on the tough terrain. That night we all slept like the dead.
Friday dawned early with an amazing thunderclap, shook us all out of bed and started the day for us. It was foggy and dim, Aaron was shoveling woodchips onto the trails that he widened and cleaned up out through the yard. The trails hadn't been maintained for a long time, so he was making them tight and good looking. Jessica didn't want to go geocaching with us, so we ditched her with Aaron and told him to put her to hard labor and he did.
We went to do some caching, of course. One "real" cache and about eight virtual caches were all that was left for us to pick from on the island itself. A virtual is a cache where there is no box hidden, but you have to mail the owner information from the site to get credit. Usually it is what's the name on the sign, or what year was this monument dedicated... that kind of thing. Virtuals are usually walk up and read the sign caches, and Doug hates them because they are not very challenging. But they add to the notches on our caching headboard so we went out to do some.
The first one we went out to do was a real cache, and we couldn't find it. We spent about an hour looking with no luck. We figured we were burning time, so we headed to the next one. We didn't realize you had to be on the park loop road to get to this one. We thought we could park on the Schooner Head Road and walk up to it. Well, we could have if we wanted to climb 500 feet of nasty craggy rocks. That would have made a virtual into a huge challenge.
Instead, we found a trail head on the opposite side of the road that went down to the water, and walked down to check the place out. It was gorgeous -- excellent views of the Thrumbcap and the cliffs all around. It would make an EXCELLENT spot for a cache, if it weren't inside the park boundaries. Damn. But it was a wonderful walk, nonetheless. Don't get me wrong. I'm up for a walk anytime that doesn't involve a prize at the end.
We decided to go to the loop road to get back on track to the cache we initially were seeking, and found where we were entering was a one way road and we were not able to get to the cache from that spot without driving the whole way around the loop. We went to the next cache on our list, feeling like we were striking out miserably.
This cache is on a huge long trail between Sand Beach and Great Head, almost at the summit of the cliffs/mountain/whatever it was. We really had a great time with this one, and the hike was more of a challenge than other virtuals. No walk 60 feet from car door to read plaque here! There was a deep fog in the cove for Sand Beach, and the mountains all around were veiled in darkness. It looked like it could be a washout. We didn't have much of a view from the cache site, but on the way back down the fog burned out and provided gorgeous views of the Beehive and the beach.
We liked this one a lot. Next we went to the Otter Cliffs for a virtual there. Caught it and headed back to A&M's. We went through Northeast Harbor and got Geoff some icecream before driving up along the fjord home. Very fun day.
Saturday, Michelle worked and Aaron, Doug, the kids and I all piled in the car to go up to Bangor to get the pig and go shopping at Sam's Club for the food we'd need to feed the 80 or more people he anticipated would be at the pig roast.
Before we left, I called my sister to find out her ETA. She and Ronnie were joining us for the weekend. They'd headed out to the ferry and took it up from NY the night before to get a jump on the trip, seeing as its about an 8 hour trek from her house. They slept a few hours at our house, and hit the road at about 6:30am, and were in Portland -- broke down by the side of the road. Yup. Dead. Second car in three days that died in our circle of friends.
In essence, the car would not stay running if the gas pedal wasn't fully stomped upon. So toll booths, stop & go traffic, stalled out the engine. We joked around that they should leave the car in Portland, get on the Nova Scotia Ferry (12 hours, $85 bucks a person) ride it up, and then get on the Bar Harbor Ferry in Nova Scotia (2 hours 45 minutes, $55 bucks a person)...
Aaron said it sounded like a fuel filter problem, and suggested they get to a garage to have it looked at. No garage could help them because they were all busy as hell, so Ronnie swapped out the fuel filter, and put in fuel injector cleaner junk, and the car ran fine, until they got off the highway at rte 3 in Augusta to come east. Then it stalled again and again.
They had a joyous trip I'm sure. But we were in Bangor to shop... and shop we did. Sam's Club was a buttload of fun, and we basically bought a truck load of food. No lie. The truck was loaded. Scary. Lots of food.
Then, to the pig.
Many of you are grossed out by the concept, and you have my sympathies. I'm all for eating meat but I don't like it when I can see its eyes. Package my food up in a box and give it to me without the head, thank you. But... the pig was intact in the sense that the good people at W.A. Bean & Sons had it totally prepared for us and ready to go. It was a lot smaller than I thought it'd be, really -- my dogs are both larger than this pig was. And it was in my truck. And it was kinda weird.
The pig was named for the occasion. Aaron gave Jessica the task, and she dubbed him Uncle Sam. Although he looked too small and wee to be an uncle. Uncle Sam was partially frozen, so we put him up in the tub to defrost slowly. Linda and Ronnie made it to Ellsworth, and traffic was unbelievably heavy so we had them park there and Doug went to pick them up. We'd deal with the car problem later.
Margaritas were served, and Ronnie and Linda each took a nap while a massive thunderstorm bounced around the bay. Michelle's mom and step father had come up for a visit for the day, and they brought her birthday presents so we hung out with them and had a nice visit.
When Linda and Ronnie woke up at about 7pm, we decided that we'd head up to the summit of Cadillac Mountain to check out the sunset. Where we were sitting was all foggy and rainy, but Aaron assured us the sunset up there would kick ass. He was completely correct. It was the most phenomenal sunset ever. The clouds were like ocean, rolling all through the islandy peaks below us. It was like being in an airplane above the clouds. We ooohed, we aaaahed, we recorded the answer for the Cadillac Mountain virtual, and we headed down the hill to downtown Bar Harbor so Linda and Ronnie could see it.
The island has about 10,000 year round residents. In the summer it swells to 4.9 million. And all of the residents were in downtown at the ice cream store. Or the bars. Mostly the ice cream store. It was late, but all the stores were still open, because the nightlife in town is hopping and people spend money when they have happy full bellies and are slightly drunk. We did some window shopping, and headed back up to the house. It was bed time for sure but not before we got the fire started for the pig roast.
Farmer Matt actually owns a huge framed roaster with four level settings and a big barrel pit at the bottom for the fire. We wanted coals that were good and hot by the morning time, so having a fire started was important. We achieved that goal along with some beer and margaritas, made fun of Dave Chapelle Show, and generally enjoyed the hell out of ourselves in between swatting the Maine State Bird. We all went to bed, and Aaron got up at like 4 to throw wood back on the fire and keep it going. He slept in his truck for an hour, got up, stirred the coals, threw more wood on and fed the bitch to keep her going.
Sunday dawned and I got up at 6:30 and started cutting fruit for fruit salad, and greens for green salad, and dumping Marzetti's slaw dressing in huge bags of slaw.
Aaron came back up the house for some breakfast, and we hauled the pig over to the cooker to put him in the sunshine and continue the thaw. The inside was still frozen, so we flipped it over on its back and covered it with plastic so as to make kind of a little greenhouse and get the warmth going in there.
Aaron realized that we were lacking a couple items of great importance. One of them was baling wire to wrap the pig onto the T-bar spit, which he thought he had or could find up at the farm. He realized that trying to find it up the farm would be like finding a needle in a haystack, and he was dreading wasting the time going through the shop looking for wire that he needed, only to find out it is probably galvanized and that would suck. The other was a digital meat thermometer. Very important.
At 8:30am, Michelle, Linda and I headed out to Home Depot which was (thankfully) open on the fourth of July. And Wal-mart, where we had "Code Geoffrey" last summer.
We bought the items needed, and 10 bags of ice, and headed back. We got there at 10:30 and the boys started prepping and wrapping pig.
Doug loaded up the inside of the pig's cavities with salt, and they seasoned the outside with hot and spicy cajun seasonings as a dry rub.
Ronnie, Doug and Aaron got the spit into the pig, and tied the feet up close to the body so they wouldn't flop and burn. They tin foiled the ears and snout, and then wired the pig to the spit.
And here's where they ran into some difficulty. The spit kept rotating inside the pig even though they had everything wrapped the way they wanted it... so they figured out a way to wire up the handle to the pig, and they used hose clamps to completely squeeze the wire to the spit in certain places, and the T-bar would assist in the rotating of said pig. It worked perfectly.
At about 11:30, an hour later than planned, the pig hit the spit. A huge discussion about temperature of air close to pig and coals and fire and everything ensued. Doug wanted to put the pig down a couple notches, Aaron wanted him up top. They settled for one notch down and Doug went into Pig Monitoring Mode.
Using his handy digital meat thermometer, Doug took baseline readings, internal temps, raked coals, added wood. He was in the Cooking Zone. He was the PigMaster. He was in his glory. My husband, I have to say this, my husband hates doin' stuff. He really does. Doug would rather not do than do. But, when it is something he WANTS to do -- Doug is amazing at stuff. And this. This was where Doug could shine in all his doing glory.
We had a quick lunch, the keg was tapped, the boy was taken swimming. Aaron, Ronnie and Doug each took turns at the pigside. I was coming back from swimming with the boy, and saw Doug with the garden hose knocking back the fire. Seems he put an oak palette onto the fire and the thing flared up like a disco inferno. He had the meat thermometer inside the pig and watched the temp go from 70 to 300 and the thermometer turned trippy colors and started to melt. He chucked it into the woods and knocked back the flames with the hose.
It was good for a laugh, and it was decided that the wood palettes weren't the best thing to use now that the pig was on spit. Doug asked me to go to Wal-mart and "save the day" by getting a new thermometer. Reluctantly I cleaned up, and headed back there with my sister, got the thermometer and a few other things, like a "Mullets ROCK!" CD, which cranks totally. Doug assured me the meat thermometer would only be put into the pig for monitoring purposes and kept away from the fire at all other times. Lesson learned.
Folks started arriving. We had enough food to feed the world. But only about 30 to 40 people showed up, far below the 80 Aaron was anticipating. He named about 15 people who told him they were coming and his plans to kick their asses later. But. Everyone who was there had a genuinely good time. There were tons of boys and girls playing with dogs, grownups talking and getting to know one another. Farmer Matt brought friends from Texas who were charming and nice. I cheffed up some shrimp skewers and Jamaican Jerk Chicken, which rocked.
And the moment everyone was awaiting... at about 6:30, the pig, Uncle Sam, was ready to be served.
People were lined up with plates right there at pigside. We'd hoped to get the pig closer to the house and to the other food, but man -- they were hungry for some pig. And it was tremendous. It was delish. It was a huge hit. Everyone was raving about the pig. All that work, all that preparation -- and here it was. The moment of truth. And the crowd was truly impressed.
Doug and Aaron had all the knives in the house with them, and none of them were really sharp enough to do their thing. Towards the end there, it looked a little "Lord of the Flies," as the guys were hacking and ripping and just going crazy getting pig out onto the serving trays so folks could eat. Little kids were volunteering to eat anything. One kid paced Aaron step for step as he sampled this part and that part. "Want some snout?" Aaron asked. "Yes." said the kid. Want some cheek, want some this, want some that? Yes, yes, yes.
One of the Texans said to me "30 years ago I was a vegetarian, and now I can't get enough of this pig! How things change..." So everyone chowed down on pig. The salads were barely touched. The pig was the main attraction, and had we served that and beer alone it would have been just fine.
Michelle and I groaned inwardly knowing how much fruit salad we'd made, and how much cole slaw there was to be eaten. How much beer there was in that keg.
Then, after the pig we did a mess of cleaning up, and it was dark enough for the noisy explodey things that someone stopped and bought in New Hampshire.
Aaron and Ronnie orchestrated the explosions this year, and it was far FAR less chaotic than last year. Two screaming flamey things kind of flew right at us at one point, and that was bad and kind of scary, but no one was hurt. Thankfully. There were cheers and clappings and at one point Aaron yelled up from the beach "This is NUTS!" and we all laughed. The sky was crystal clear, no moon was out yet, and it couldn't have been nicer.
We all trekked back to the house, and many people departed at that point. Some stayed for desert for Aaron's birthday cake. There was still tons of beer to be had, but no one was drinking. It was mellow out time, and I went to the pit where the fire was still burning and stoked up the flames again. We had a bonfire that couldn't be beat, Aaron snored in one of the Adirondack chairs and Michelle, Doug and I were entertained by stories from one of the young'uns from the farm. Doug went to bed, and when I got up there he was still in his clothes, sprawled out diagonally across the mattress, his shoes barely off his feet.
Monday morning came, and Linda and I both woke up at the same time. We met in the kitchen and started cleaning while discussing what we could possibly do about her car problem. Aaron had suggested a few people, none of whom were at work as they were observing the holiday on Monday. Linda HAD to be back to work on Tuesday, so sticking around for a day or so while the car got fixed was not an option.
Everyone had ideas, some worked, some didn't. We decided that we'd leave the car there. Aaron would hook it up with a repair guy, and we'd not rush the repair so that it can be done right, especially if there are parts and stuff that need ordered.
The plan was that we'd head back here, ditch Doug and the kids, and I'd drive Linda and Ronnie to Bridgeport (about 2.5 hours) to grab the last ferry. Ronnie and Aaron went to get Linda's car so it'd be on the island instead of over in Ellsworth, and we packed and got lunch going. Everyone ate, we loaded up and then realized it was friggin' LATE. 2:45pm. Damn. We hauled ass and made amazing time to Portland. No one was on the road. Then, we hit Scarborough, where the Widening has not yet been completed. Two lanes down from like 8 where 295 and 95 merge... and traffic was at a standstill until Kennebunk.
Thanks to Scarborough, we sat in traffic for an month, and got back here to the house at 8pm. Totally blew the crap out of our Bridgeport plan. I was feeling less than optimistic that we'd get them down to the ferry in time. So we considered other options.
We could have gone down and they could have stayed at a hotel overnight and ... well. I'd have to drive back 2.5 hours and get here at like 2am or something if traffic was not cooperative. Damn. So we started looking into the trains and busses.
Amtrack was booked solid, but this morning there were seats available on the Acela train. Problem was, it was about 100 bucks a person. Meh. No.
The busses run pretty much all night, and they could get a midnight bus for like 39 bucks a person. We opted for the bus. As sucky as the bus can be, it was our best bet. They'd get to NYC at about 4:30 and then get the commuter rail out to the island and my mom could grab them and life would be good. Linda would make it to work almost on time, which was the goal.
Here's the thing about Linda's work -- any other company would take the shop bill and see it says "Seal's Cove, Maine" on it and be like, hmmmm. Yeah, you weren't lyin. Her co-worker J would have no problem with her missing work today. The person who would freak would be the manager L, and she's on vacation. When she gets back, she'd pull this whole "What, I go away for a week and you can't make it to work and I guess I can't go away if this kind of thing is gonna happen and meh meh meh meh bitch bitch bitch..." and Linda just could not deal with that noise. No. She had to make it back. Anyone else would be pretty laid back. But that's not her boss' style.
We had some time to kill, pizza was ordered and we kicked it for a bit before leaving at 10:30 seeing as I wasn't 100% sure of where I was going thanks to the Big Dig in Boston. I knew where I used to catch the busses when I was in college, but... we got down there and discovered that building is GONE now.
We drove around onto Congress Street and I thought maybe I could drive behind the back of the Post Office, but no dice -- so I drove them around again, pointed out the building where Chaos Factor works, the new convention center which isn't done yet, and it was all pretty and quiet and serene back there. But we couldn't find a street that would do what I WANTED it to...
We backtracked, I crossed the highway, we drove around to the left, saw all the people waiting for the Chinatown bus to NYC, but no bus terminal for Greyhound. Finally, we found Atlantic Ave again (why couldn't I find Atlantic Friggin' AVE!) and the bus station. Yay! I dropped them off at 11:30, and I was home by midnight. Success! What an adventure!!!
She made it to work, a tiny bit late after getting a well deserved shower. I hope to hell she got some sleep on the bus. I hope Ronnie's back didn't bug him too much (he had a back injury which can be exacerbated by sitting for too long in seats like bus seats or my truck!) so that's their adventure.
It isn't over yet -- now we have to figure out how to get the car back to them. MEH! I know I'm going down to see BNL on July 16th, I could bring them up here with me and then they could bus it to Bangor or Ellsworth or something... or, we could perhaps go all the way up to Bar Harbor again for a couple o'days!
Woot!
We'll see. We'll cross that bridge when we get there.
Right then. I have a ton to do. Glad to be home. Gotta figure out what I'm doing with the kids, if they're going to NY, if they aren't, where Doug's car is, what am I doing? Where am I going? AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
Talk at you later. And, of course, pictures will be posted shortly. Cheers.
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