The first time I ever went to Maine, I was probably about seven years old. It was to become a family tradition to do a vacation each summer. Maine was almost always the destination. The idea of going to Maine came from my mother’s side of the family. Since her hometown in Massachusetts was a few states away, Maine became an easy destination for their family trips.  The picture to the left is my mom on Ocean Point near Boothbay Harbor, Maine.

Our initial trips took us to Boothbay, a small town on the coast, just north of Bath. We would always rent a cottage (Sibley Cottage) on the same cove, Lobster Cove. We’d take it over for a few weeks, enjoying the convenience of a fireplace, kitchen, screened-in patio overlooking the water, and room enough for all three of us (four when my grandmother accompanied us).

Because of my age at the time, I only have vague memories of Boothbay. I remember a foot bridge you could take over to an island (I think). There was a little gift shop at the halfway point we’d always stop at (right). There were lots of neat gift shops. I believe one was called "The Laughing Cow". Another had a salt water taffy puller in the front window, and yet another was a glass blowing shop (always my mother’s favorite). My parents still have glass-blown icicles on their Christmas tree every year from that shop.

The cottage we stayed in always had a sense of mystery surrounding it (at least for a 7-year-old with an active imagination!) Set snugly in an old stand of pine, it always seemed very dark and secluded. There was a little path which led down to an old, dilapidated pier. I don’t recall ever even going down to the pier, so it always seemed like this place "down there". The cottage itself was right on the top of a steep rock face, so the water was only to look at. We would drive around to the opposite, less steep side of thy bay if we wanted to get to the water. All of the paneling in the cottage was real wood and was full of dark knots. I could always see faces in the placement of the knots on each panel. I would fall asleep each night looking at the different faces – there was no end to the possibilities!

My dad has always had a fascination with seagulls. One of the highlights of every trip to Maine was to befriend a few of them and feed them. We’ll never really know if the one that came by our patio at the cottage was the same one each time, or just a close relative, though we liked to believe it was the same one. Either way, ours was always known as "Jonathan Livingston" after the main character in Richard Bach’s book. My dad always tried to see just how close a seagull would get for a piece of bread. He sometimes found out how hard a seagull could bite, too!

We had a big picture window that overlooked our cove, so we could see anything that was going on. Most of the time, there were just peaceful waves and soaring gulls. One time, however, we were startled by unexpected activity in the water. A huge school of minnows, startled by some larger fish, were corralled in the cove. Two fishermen in a small motorboat had followed the activity and were going after the larger fish. After some joking and conversation with our unexpected new friends, we bid them farewell, and they returned to whatever port they had come from.

One thing about Maine that always made it different from my home state of New Jersey is that the "beaches" are very rarely ever sandy. There are always wonderful rocky nooks and crannies to be explored. Low tide was always my favorite time when we were exploring the coast. As I had mentioned already, there was no beach at the cottage in Boothbay, so we had to drive to one. The park on the opposite side of the cove had a small beach which was always quite picked over by birds and people. Fortunately, we could also drive to Ocean Point.

Ocean Point was a fabulous playground for any child. It was here that I could find all sorts of treasure. We’d have to have eggs for breakfast every morning just so that I could have enough egg cartons to safely pack my latest finds. I had no problem picking and poking in every tide pool. I always loved to pick up snails and leave them on my palm, staying so still that they could feel safe to open their trap doors and come out. Yes, I know, "snips and snails", etc., etc.) – I guess I was a bit of a Tomboy. Occasionally, I’d be lucky enough to spy a sea urchin or crab shell to take back with me. I found out the hard way that you must be absolutely certain that any shell you pick up is completely empty. I also found out that snails smell terrible when they die!

Each year always had its particular, unique moments. One year, we had difficulty with the fireplace. It was probably our first year because we hadn’t used our fireplace yet. My dad set up the fire beautifully, but as it burned, smoke billowed out into the room rather than up the chimney. After standing outside for a short while as the smoke cleared out, we realized that we would never forget to open the chimney flue again!

Another year, my mother’s family came up and joined us for a day. It was a sort of family reunion and we went to all of the favorite spots and ended the day at a restaurant which was actually a huge boat. Quite memorable with all of my aunts, uncles and cousins.

We also went to Pemaquid Point via land and water. We took a boat tour around the harbor and out to sea. Looping back to the coast, we saw the picturesque lighthouse on its sheer, precipitous perch. We also drove to it. Unfortunately, you cannot see much from the cliff because of the sheer drop to the ocean. It was still a very neat trip. On the boat trip, I even got the chance to spot some seals off the coastline.

After we had stayed in Boothbay for a few summers, we decided to try other New England destinations. We went to the White Mountains in New Hampshire one summer, took a few summers off, but realized that it just wasn’t the same. We missed the ocean. We had seen brochures about Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park when we were in Boothbay.  We even entertained the idea of a day trip, but later decided it was too far.  Deciding that we wanted to head back to Maine, in the mid-80s, we sent for some information from the Bar Harbor Chamber of Commerce.  We picked a place on the water, and made reservations.  The next stage of our experience in Maine was about to begin.

Bar Harbor

Some teenagers don’t want to have anything to do with certain family activities. When it came to going back to Maine, however, I was all for it. However, I believe my initial interest was because we went on vacation that year in September after school started.

The first time we went to Bar Harbor, we only went for a week. It was always a 2-day trip to get there (with an overnight at the Portsmouth, New Hampshire Holiday Inn). Incidentally, it is not recommended to go swimming at a hotel in an outdoor pool in New Hampshire in September. The Fall leaves floating in the pool should have been a clue – but I was an independent teenager, remember?

Mount Desert Island is a very unique place. There is some geological, glacial explanation of why it is the way it is. I won’t go into any detail because I’m not a geologist. Whatever the reason, this island is referred to as "Where the Mountains Meet the Sea". Mt. Cadillac is the highest point on the Eastern Seaboard, and at least 3 other mountains on the island come close to it. Compared to the rest of the relatively flat Maine coastline, it definitely stands out. There is one bridge that connects the island to the mainland. It is at this bridge that you get your first sense that you’re approaching the ocean. It crosses a narrow channel which fills your nose with the wonderful smell of ocean.

Shortly after crossing the bridge in Trenton (which, by the way, has some great little gift shops, an airport and an animal farm. . . we’ll get to that later), you are greeted by the bearer of good luck to the island. A huge totem standing 20-30 feet tall is just off to the side of the road ( I could be exaggerating about the size). This is Glooscap. Of course, being the tourists we are, we had to stop and do a photo shoot.

After passing the abandoned animal farm (I assume the one in Trenton replaced this one), the furniture stripper (which, for some reason, we always found amusing), and a few other little shops and homes, we made the turn on to the short road to Salisbury Cove.

A small town (large enough for a Post Office – barely) just North of Bar Harbor, Salisbury Cove is the perfect location for a peaceful family getaway. There are only two motels in Salisbury, one which is owned by the Bowdens. David Bowden and his family own a large piece of property right on the edge of the cove, Edgewater Motel and Cottages. The motel and most of the cottages are only a few feet from the water at high tide. We fell in love with the place immediately (and with the Bowedns and their wonderful Maine accents and small town hospitality).

Once we settled in at the cottage (#2 - this became our preferred site for many years) we decided to begin exploring the area. Only a short way further down the two lane highway that circles the island, there is more evidence that many families have discovered the attraction of this island. Hotels, motels, RV parks and campgrounds are scattered all along the route from Salisbury Cove to Bar Harbor. Another small town, Hulls Cove, is the halfway point between the two. Just before Hulls Cove, the first time we ever drove this route, we noticed the most unusual thing – one of the residents had a Christmas tree perched atop a crane sitting in his front yard (every year, I watched with great anticipation to see if it was still there – and every year it was!).

Just past Hulls Cove, is the entrance to Acadia National Park. Even without the cottage on the water, the small town hospitality of the locals, the shops and restaurants, this island is ideal because of Acadia. Discovering all of the wonders in this National Park helped me to appreciate how special our Park System is. It has a little bit of everything. For the day traveler, there are scenic drives, pull-offs for attractions such as Thunder Hole and Otter Cliffs (left). For the more laid back vacationer, there’s Jordan Pond House (famous for their tea, popovers and strawberry jam), carriage rides on the many carriage paths, Sand Beach, gift shops and guided walks. Then, for the serious backpacker and outdoor person, there are trails up all of the mountains, including The Beehive and The Precipice (aptly named – a sign states "people have died on this trail"). I have been all of these types of vacationers at different points in my life. Acadia has never let me down. More about my adventures in the park later.

Bar Harbor is a very stereotypical tourist town. Everything is within walking distance of Main Street and it is packed with shops, galleries and restaurants. My mother and I became very familiar with them over the years, and would exclaim, "Gift Shop! Gift Shop!" in our excitement of finding more trinkets to "oooh" and "aaah" over. One intuitive vendor even had a "Husband Bench". My dad returned to that bench every year!

Of course, many of the things that I describe here we discovered after a few years of returning to our favorite vacation place. Sometimes, it was just the three of us. Occasionally, we found other family and friends to share it with. Namely, my grandmother (on my Dad’s side), John (a friend of the family), Nibbles the Rabbit (who loved Maine clover), and on our last trip as a family, my husband David (fiancé at the time).

From 1985 to 1990, we always went to Bar Harbor for a one or two week vacation. This was some of the best time we ever spent together as a family. We never went to Disneyland or any other typical American family vacation spot. For us, Maine was something to look forward to every summer. Every year had it’s own unique memories.

The first time we drove through Acadia National Park, we definitely felt like tourists. We did the standard visit to the visitor’s center, collecting as many maps, brochures, and postcards as we could. We bought a tape we could play in the car as we drove the Park Loop Road that described what we saw. Playing the part of guide, I happily read out of the book that came with the tape, pointing out details the tape did not mention. This was just our first of numerous drives on this scenic road, that we would eventually know with our eyes closed.

We did the day trip stops, taking pictures of the fabulous views of the ocean along the way. For a good portion of the drive, you can easily see the ocean from the road. We saw Otter Cliffs and Thunder Hole. We stopped at Jordan Pond House and visited the gift shop ("Gift Shop! Gift Shop!"). Then we made our first visit to Bubble Pond.

Bubble Pond is named after the two perfectly rounded mountains that lie just to the South (North and South Bubble). The first year we were in Acadia (remember this is in September) there were very few visitors to the park because it was the off season. The parking lot at Bubble Pond was vacant. If there is any place in the world that I would consider to be a perfect spot for quiet thought and meditation, it is Bubble Pond in early Fall. The lake was like glass, not even the wind was blowing. It is just far enough from the ocean that there is never any sound of surf. It is flanked by two huge mountains, so all you see is the pond. We just stood in awe, afraid to make any sound that would break the silence. It wasn’t until after a few trips back to the park that we realized that this was a unique and special moment we had experienced. It was never quite that serene again.