Maine Lighthouse Tour Day 4

I’m trying to run from the tornado, but my legs will not respond. The ache is tremendous, and I keep trying despite the agony. I spy people heading to a storm cellar and I try to catch up, but the door slams before I reach it. I look up and the funnel cloud is looming ever closer. That is when I awake yet again this night. The back problem that has flared up is causing me great pain so that earlier, Andy had to help with pulling the boots off.

As the morning rolls around, I can at least get out of bed, barely, only to discover that I can’t lift the right foot onto the floorboards. I’m beginning to seriously wonder at the safety of traveling in such a state. I strongly suggest we stop for something besides oral meds. Medicated back rub is suggested. Through the course of the day, we try that and by 3:00 pm I’m not thinking so hard about lifting the foot off the ground.

The day progresses in like fashion. We head down the coast along US 1 and detour at Milbridge and head down one of the many finger like peninsulas that dot the coast of Maine. We are having technical trouble with the two way radios, and we miss the first turn. No worry, the GPS recalculates and we can still get there from here. Yet, the fog is thick, and while we can see the shore, no lighthouse seems to appear. Andy stops to ask directions for a local utility worker parked in his truck. Meter reader I presume. Andy begins gesticulating in the way I see him try to speak with my brother and sister. The person in the truck is clearly a deaf man. Finally he pulls forward and I roll up.

“Hi” I say with a wave of my hand. Then in American Sign Language I ask my questions.
“Lighthouse…can’t find here…where?”
“Not here” the man tells me. “Go back…US1 south….4 miles.”
“Sign?” I ask
“Yes, sign, about this big” indicating with his hands the dimensions of the sign.
“Beautiful!” he adds “you will like.”

We head back to US 1 south, yet we never see the sign. What we do find are some significant commercial fishing docks. We stop at these and try to see through the fog. In a few moments a young man comes rowing in and pulls his rowboat in.
“Done for the day?” Andy asks.
“Yup.”
The man is chatty and we discover that there is a lighthouse not too far off but the fog will not allow us a view and you can’t drive to this one. Now how did that one end up staying on the route? It was not my intention.





So that the day is not a complete waste, we ride through and stop in Schoodic National Scenic Byway. The fog is still shrouding a lot of the area, yet we are fortunate to spy a seal popping his head up to check out the visitors. We are also amazed at the posted signage telling us about the magma that in the earth’s earlier days pushed its way through the crevices of granite stone, leaving the stripes we see today. “Jim” an old retired buck, and Maine native, approaches us to talk about the bikes. He seems interested in the fact that I’m riding my own. We chat for some time and he tells us a few stories of Maine. He’s out and about in his motor home investigating all the tourist attractions he never visits because he lives so close.





We mount the bikes wave goodbye to Jim and head toward Bar Harbor. With any luck, here will be the only lighthouse we see this day. It’s close to 5:00 pm when we finally reach Bass Harbor Head Light. We take our time here, and then a few moments to discuss our next move. I’m reluctant to leave this area. I want to ride through Acadia National Park, get my stamp and climb Cadillac Mountain. We head back inland, find lodgings, eat at the nearby “Maine Luau” and I sample another local beer. This one is Cadillac Mountain Stout, made right here in Bar Harbor. Sokay…I’m walking, not riding.