But we could have used a map… so there’s that.

Happy Birthday, America! What better way to celebrate the good ol’ U.S. of A. than with a visit to one of America’s National Parks. And let me tell you, we spent a GOOD chunk of time in Acadia National Park today. We spent some time there intentionally, with a planned hike up Beech Mountain to one of the few remaining fire towers in the area. Then, we spent some additional time also getting to know the Canada Cliff trail because we are the worst at reading trail markers. How did this even happen, you ask? Aren’t there two highly functioning adults leading this ragtag group of campers through the northeastern coastal wilderness? I can’t really explain it except to say that BOTH of us need to pay attention. It’s a careful system of checks and balances. We got cocky and we paid the price.

The day started out overcast and cool, the best kind of day for hiking. I pulled on my most festive, spangly American flag t-shirt to commemorate this most patriotic of days, and threw on an Elon College ball cap to keep the hair out of my face. Everyone grabbed their water bottle shoulder straps and I squirreled some snacks, bug spray, band-aids, and a roll of toilet paper in my backpack (fool me once…). We had chosen a moderate hike with some light scrambling (using hands and feet to climb steep and rocky slopes), wooden stairs, steep inclines, and the reward of some scenic views from the summit. Beech Mountain is located in the quieter western part of Mount Desert Island (where Acadia National Park is situated), a part of the park we had not yet been to. The 45-minute ride offered a glimpse into some small local villages like Southwest Harbor, where a good number of the residents work in the lobster industry. Lobster traps, lobster boats, and lobster pounds (a place where trapped lobsters are kept alive by running seawater through their tanks) lined the streets and a view of the harbor revealed dozens upon dozens of lobster boats bobbing peacefully in the water.

We found the Beech Mountain Trailhead easily and parked the Jeep. Within a few minutes we were off in the direction of the fire tower. The entire loop would take an estimated 90 minutes to complete. We enjoyed the challenge of navigating the rocks and scrambling up the giant boulders. Was it a graceful ascent? No. But was it fun? Absolutely. Just when your legs began to burn, there was a stopping point to see something beautiful: a mountain, a lake, or just a view over the treetops. There were several other groups of hikers enjoying the fresh air and wandering along the paths. We picked some of the wild blueberries growing along the path and after seeing other hikers eat them (and not die of poisoning), we also tried them. The terrain varied from flat dirt to gravel, to boulders, to a system of tangled roots. As usual, Rob and the girls were several meters ahead, and Kai spent time climbing anything and everything, while Amaya and I brought up the rear at a steady pace. I like to wander and observe and I am very cautious when descending, especially on uneven surfaces. How embarrassing would it be to break an ankle and have to be emergency-evacuated from the park? No, thank you. I will bump down on my behind like a toddler all day long.

By the time we reached the summit and climbed the fire tower, the sun began to poke through the clouds. We began our descent back to the parking area and were thrilled to find a few more places where we had to scramble over rocks to make our way down the marked trail. It wasn’t long before we encountered another group of hikers deciding on their route at a juncture along the trail. Confidently, we turned a hard right and continued our gradual descent to street level.

We should not have turned right.

It was only after we arrived at a dirt road that we did not recognize that Rob and I opened up Google Maps to access our downloaded maps of Acadia. Fortunately, we had thought to download the maps since the cell signal in the parks is sporadic. Unfortunately, we should have opened those maps at the previous juncture. We were four miles from our car by the road or 1.4 miles from our car by the path we had just emerged from. This was not good news. We had intentionally chosen the direction of the loop based on advice from hikers who recommended climbing up the ladders rather than trying to navigate them on the way down. Going in reverse would be more difficult and we were already tired. We found a route that seemed like a compromise between street route and trail route. If we walked at a good clip, we could make it back to the car in 48 minutes.

Thank goodness for water and snacks. After a hydration station and a quick refueling, we set out on this (unexpected) back leg of of this hike. The kids suggested flagging down a car for help, but Rob and I insisted we make the trek on foot. After all, there were six of us and though we were tired, we were physically able to do this. I will admit that when we turned onto the Canada Cliffs trail with .8 miles left to go until reaching the parking area, I teared up a little bit. Switchbacks. Of. Stairs. There were so many stairs. It’s one thing to know up front you are taking a four hour hike, but something completely different when you feel like you’re done after two hours, and then, surprise, you have another two hours ahead of you. All because you didn’t use your map. I’d like to say we learned our lesson, but we probably didn’t.

We ate a delicious lunch at Eat-a-Pita in Southwestern Harbor and made the short drive to the Bass Harbor Head Light Station in Tremont. This is one of three lighthouses managed by the Acadia National Park. Built in 1858, it housed a lightkeeper all the way until 1974 when it was automated. The U.S. Coast Guard was responsible for the lighthouse until 2020 when it was transferred to the National Parks. Currently, a couple lives in on the property in a private residence. They care for the grounds, provide information to guests, and report any parking incidents or accidents. The lighthouse is simple and stands just 37-feet. I loved seeing the bright white of the lighthouse nestled among the huge coastal rocks, contrasted with the bright blue sky and jewel-green water. Bass Harbor Head and other coastal Maine lighthouses played such a pivotal role in the maritime transportation network, guiding ships safely into harbors, especially during stormy weather.

We spent the afternoon relaxing at the camper and preparing a Fourth of July cookout of burgers and hot dogs, baked beans, corn on the cob and strawberry/blueberry shortcake. It was a great way to top off our accidentally-long hiking day! Around 9:00 PM we took our camp chairs over to the community seating area at the campground where the workampers had set up three firepits and were handing out s’mores kits and wooden skewers for all us campers to toast marshmallows while we waited for the fireworks over Frenchman’s Bay. Is there anything more American than a s’more? It’s such a perfect little bite of dessert, especially when you’ve got that perfect crispy golden crust on the outside of the marshmallow and the gooey inside! A few stray fireworks set off from someone’s boat popped over the bay as we settled in our chairs. We waited. We saw some intense flashes of light and the familiar sound of fireworks behind some trees far out in the bay. Surely, these were not the Bar Harbor fireworks over Frenchman’s Bay. We waited some more. After a few minutes, it fell silent. One of the workampers exclaimed, “That was it!” and just like that, fireworks were over. Like most of the other campers, we packed up our chairs and headed back to our camper. It seems the fireworks at Frenchman’s Bay are not, in fact, visible from the Acadia Seashore Campground and Cabins.

While other families may have celebrated July 4th differently, we chose to spend the holiday spending time in nature. However, we have realized that while we enjoy being outside, we aren’t always the best at navigating it and we would not survive all that long if we were to actually get lost in the woods. Also, as much as we love our time outside, we love coming back to a cool, dry space with beds and running water. I think this makes us more of an “outsidey” than “outdoorsy” family, but we like it this way. That said, we are planning a long trip to Glacier National Park in Montana and Banff National Park in Alberta, Canada for next June. Now, those are two parks where we would prefer not to get lost. There are much bigger predators and the weather is more severe. So, we have some map skills homework before next June!

At any rate, Happy Birthday, America! Thank you for your beautiful landscapes and the opportunity to enjoy the National Parks!

 “The forests and the flowers, the open prairies, the slopes of the hills, the tall mountains—the granite, the limestone, the caliche, the unmarked trails, the winding little streams—well, this is the America that no amount of science or skill can ever recreate or actually ever duplicate.”

— Lyndon B. Johnson

Some days you need a forced time out. And yesterday was that day.

Between the sunrise trek up Cadillac Mountain and the queasy morning of whale watching, coupled with the most fresh air our family has breathed for months, we were wiped out. Rob and I slept until 9:30 AM – that’s unheard of. (We are no longer the good sleepers we once were.). The kids began to sir around 10:00 and we had a slow, easy morning of pancakes, fresh fruit, sausages, and coffee while the cool breeze fluttered through the windows.

I read a couple of chapters of my book in my rocking chair and watch Rob and Marlie head out to the beach to try their hand at crabbing. Slowly, we came to life, taking advantage of the gorgeous weather, the quiet campground, and a day without a plan in the world. My mother always hated a down day on vacation. It was always GO, GO, GO – taking advantage of every last millisecond of vacation. As an educator with precious few days of summer, I completely understand this point of view and up until recently, I also subscribed to this philosophy. However, I have come to relish a slow, sweet day to recover my energy, protect my peace, and be in the moment. Sometimes my kids don’t recognize this new version of me, but they are also learning to take vacation in stride and go with the flow. It’s good for them to not have to see me as a crazed, uptight micromanager and to settle into an easy rhythm of relaxation. What a change to come back from vacation well rested instead of needing a vacation to recover from vacation.

If you think six people in a camper sounds cozy, you are partially right. Basically, we are six (nearly) adult-sized people, and while, technically, this RV can sleep 10, it would be a terrible mistake to sleep that many people in here. The only way to politely describe the interior of the camper after a few days would be “lived in.” Frankly, it looks as though there was a struggle. It’s no one’s fault. We all just have STUFF: six water bottles, six phones, six chargers, six sets of sneakers, six sets of flip flops/Crocs, and so on. Sometimes it’s nice to just take a beat and put some things away. I sacrificed a trip to Tracey’s for ice cream to wipe down all our surfaces, put away clutter and vacuum (yes, we have a camper vacuum). The twenty minutes of quiet was just enough to recharge my battery and I felt ready to take on the afternoon having gotten my camper life in order again. All was right with the world.

We decided on a fun vacation activity for the evening, just to get out of the campground – mini-golf! Who doesn’t love the Pirate’s Cove? We drove towards Bar Harbor and selected the Blackbeard’s Challenge Course. I try to tamp down my competitive spirit during these outings, but it’s not easy. It’s really such an unattractive quality -definitely inherited from my Dad’s side of the family. Rob and I are pretty much equals when it comes to mini-golf. We are usually within 1-2 strokes of one another. Don’t let Rob make you think I am the only one who wants to win – he is also very competitive and we exchanged some playful barbs over the 18 holes. In the end, I lost. I choked on the last hole. Nevertheless, a good time was had by all and we headed to find a quick bite to eat.

After a couple of pizzas, breadsticks, and salads at Pat’s Pizza in Bar Harbor, we headed into Acadia back to Thunder Hole to see if our timing would lend itself to hearing a louder roar. It’s tough to tell if the sound was stronger than the other night, but the twilight hour found lights dancing off the water and a refreshing seabreeze coming off the waves. The evening sea was strangely calm – no swells, which also makes for quieter waters. With darkness fast approaching, we continued along the Park Loop Road in Acadia, heading back to the campground. You must observe the speed limit in the parks, and, really, on any of the back roads between Acadia and our campground. Between twilight and nighttime, there are deer that appear very suddenly – bolting across the street, grazing on the side of the road, standing in a field, or even just ambling down the side of the road. These are fairly big white-tailed deer with sweet faces and big brown eyes. Acadia is full of deer, but not moose. We were hopeful to see a moose in Acadia, but the locals say that there is not enough space for moose in the area, so a sighting would be rare.

On a whim, we stopped at Otter Cliff Overlook which offered a clear view of the coastline and some huge rocks to climb! Marlie and Alyssa climbed up the rocks over the cliff for a better, higher view, while a mouse ran over Amaya’s foot and Kai tracked it into its hole. Surprisingly, there were several other groups of late-night visitors to Otter Cliff – people making one last stop before heading back to their hotels, cabins, or campgrounds. It’s wonderful to see the amount of people enjoying Acadia, out walking or climbing, exploring and discovering. I wished we had more time to adventure down the path along the sea, but the dark crept in and when that last bit of light is snuffed from the sky, it is absolutely pitch black.

Tomorrow is July 4th – a great day to continue exploring Acadia. We haven’t done a longer hike or seen a lighthouse yet. Today was good for the soul – a day to regroup and plan for the final days of our vacation – but tomorrow, it’s game on again.

The world has seen numerous notable maritime disasters. Remembering The Sultana, The Titanic, and recently, the Ever Given may give you pause before booking that Carribean cruise. And then there was the 8:30 AM Bar Harbor Whale Watch out of Frenchman’s Bay on July 2, 2024.

The day started out as a top ten weather day. The sun shone high in the sky. Everyone got themselves dressed, fed, appropriately caffeinated and into the car by 7:15 with extra sweatshirts and hats. I had packed a bag of snacks, water, Dramamine and Sea Bands (acupressure bands for motion sickness) and shorts for what would surely be a warm afternoon strolling around Bar Harbor.

Parking this early in the morning was a breeze and we quickly secured a spot in the lot adjacent to the dock. The whole clan queued up, posing for the obligatory group photo behind a life preserver, and boarded the boat, an AtlantiCat catamaran, with about 200 people, a diverse crowd in age and ethnicity.

We chose seats in the lower cabin, two rows of four facing each other across a narrow dining table. The seats were close enough to the bathrooms and the snack bar, but also perfectly positioned to see outside both sets of windows for the incidental whale sighting on our way out to open water. We were excited about seeing all sorts of marine life our on-board naturalist described for us. Besides whales – humpback and minke most likely, we could potentially see sharks, puffins, gulls, terns, seals, harbor porpoises, and dolphins. It was even rumored that there could be both a blue whale and a great white shark in the area. Thrilling!

Amaya and Kai had both been on an amazing whale watch with me at least ten years ago and were eager to repeat the experience. We knew what to expect from the motion of the boat, and where to sit and focus our eyes as to minimize seasickness. An hour before leaving the dock, we all took Dramamine and placed our SeaBands on our wrists according to packaged directions. Rob assured me that he, Alyssa, and Marlie did not get seasick and did not need any interventions. I first knew we were in trouble when the catamaran hit the first swell, leaving me with a flutter in my belly similar to a feeling I’ve gotten on theme park rides. Not more than 15 minutes had passed when I realized Amaya had turned gray and was staring slackjawed into the middle of the table. Before I could ask her how she felt, she bolted toward the restroom, grabbing an envelope with a motion sickness bag inside it.

While we waited for her return, Rob and the girls explored the boat and I switched my position over to face the forward motion of the boat. Riding backwards never did me any good. No sooner had Amaya returned, than Kai also began to look a bit green around the gills. He was chewing gum frantically, his eyes glued to the horizon visible out the front windows, and he was so quiet.

Looking around at the people at the tables all around us, I noticed at least one of the occupants in each group being tended by someone else in their travel party. To our right, a small boy of about six years old slumped in his chair clutching a cup of ginger ale and profusely vomiting into the motion sickness bag held by his mother. I heard more retching sounds from the left and noticed one of the twenty-somethings in the group with her head halfway in her motion sickness bag. Crew members hustled and bustled around the cabin with spray bottles of strong smelling cleaner and paper towels, wiping up sick from tables, chairs, and floors. The toddler at the table behind us played with his parents, only to be interrupted with bouts of vomiting before resuming play.

Do you remember the scene in The Goonies where Chunk is being interrogated by the Fratelli and he confesses to using fake vomit at a movie theater? He goes on to describe the chain reaction that ensued as one person saw another person vomit and then vomited themselves., and so on. This scene was replayed during our journey to sea this morning. Anyone without seasickness had fled to fresh air, laying claim to a spot on the lower or upper deck to catch first glimpses of the majestic cetaceans. The remaining passengers were wilted over their small, white plastic motion sickness bags at their tables, the ripped envelopes scattered over their tables. The galley served up complimentary oyster crackers and ginger ale as people fell sick one by one, like dominoes. Occasionally, a sympathetic family member would come back into the cabin to check on their loved one, staying for a few minutes before returning to the sunshine and fresh air. Incidentally, it might have been better to have the seasick folks head out to the deck for some fresh air, but it would have been like trying to corral the walking dead. No one could move.

I rubbed backs, fetched ginger ale and crackers, and readied the bags trying to make Amaya and Kai more comfortable. We took a short trip to the back of the vessel to sit on a shady bench in the fresh air, but were soon overtaken by a mom with one miserable child, patiently holding open barf bags for her boy. Dear Mom, I see you. You didn’t think today would result in you holding a bag of your child’s vomit, fetching flat ginger ale for your crying 11-year old, but here you are. Just know there is a margarita in your future, mama. Stay strong.

Throughout this ordeal, the boat’s naturalist continued to narrate what we were seeing – a tern at 10 0’clock, a puffin at 9 o’clock, a small group of harbor porpoises at 1 o’clock. Folks on the decks oohed and ahhhed outside while I had one kid’s head on my shoulder and one kid’s head on my lap, and I willed my stomach to stop turning over. I fixed my eyes on that line where the sky meets the sea (thanks, Moana), swallowed the dry oyster crackers, and whispered a lot of promises to a higher power if I could just not throw up today. All around me, bags were distributed, collected, and discarded by heroic crew members and exhausted parents, many of whom were seasick themselves. And then I heard the sweetest sound in the world.

The engines cut out. They found the whales.

Confident that Amaya and Kai were momentarily comfortable, I made my way outside for the viewing. Off the bow of the boat, the naturalist pointed out blow in the distance (whales surfacing and clearing their lungs) while passenger scooted from one side of the deck to the other following the surfacing whales.

A pair of humpbacks repeatedly dove and surfaced, putting on quite a show, and sometimes showing off their tail patterns. These unique markings on the underside of a whale’s tail are like fingerprints. Scientists can track whales by identifying their tail patterns over time to determine migratory patterns. There is still so much to learn about these incredible creatures.

One of the whales even let out an enormous poop next to the boat and the smell of the reddish liquid reached the boat on the light breeze. It smelled just about at bad as you might think excrement from a 60,000 pound creature might smell. Our knowledgeable naturalist let us know that this was very important to the ocean ecosystem, as it adds much needed nitrogen back into the water, supporting a healthy and balanced environment. The reddish color indicated a diet of krill. Now you know more about whale poop than you ever wanted to.

Since it seemed like we would be hanging out in one spot for a while, I persuaded Amaya and Kai to head out into the sunshine and breeze for a while. They were able to see the whales along with a small pod of dolphins, including a baby (so cute!) and most importantly, the most incredible sight of the day – a full breach by one of the humpbacks! Incredible how they can haul themselves out of the water completely. This is a rare sight, and one we didn’t catch on camera, but we felt so lucky to have witnessed it firsthand.

This bit of excitement proved to be overwhelming for Amaya and Kai, so they headed back inside to rest while the rest of us continued to marvel at the playful whales. We even caught a glimpse of a whale shark off in the distance. Amazing to know that below the tranquil and smooth open waters there is a diverse and thriving world full of creatures. I mean, the food chain was alive and well right below our feet! Also, please note, this fact is also the most terrifying to me. Open water is one of those concepts that both piques my curiosity and ignites nightmares.

By this point in the trip, I was feeling more myself – I just had an empty feeling in my stomach and I felt absolutely exhausted. Amaya and Kai were also looking better. but then the sea claimed its fourth victim – Alyssa. She didn’t look so hot as she, Rob and Alyssa entered the cabin. We quickly rearranged our seats so all four of us affected by the motion could sit facing forward, leaving Rob and Marlie to sit across from us. I procured more ginger ale and crackers for Alyssa and forced her to take small sips – this poor kid HATES carbonated beverages. I assured her the crackers and ginger would help settle her tummy, but I went ahead and opened up a motion sickness bag and slid it over to her just in case. Looking around the cabin, the carnage from the trip was everywhere…empty ginger ale cups and cracker bags spread across the tables like a minefield. The exhaustion and misery on the faces of parents whose kids had vomited for three hours was apparent and regret hung like thick fog in the air. The crew looked spent. I didn’t know how they would take visitors on an afternoon whale watch.

Fortunately, the ride back to Bar Harbor was smooth. The ocean was like glass and the AtlanticCat cut through the water like a knife through butter. We arrived at the dock, all of us with noodly legs and heavy heads. We did not purchase our photo – it seemed like a lie – and we were not the same people who boarded the boat a mere four hours earlier. We ate a quick lunch at the famous Stewman’s in Bar Harbor – shrimp cocktail for Amaya, a lobster/crab cake and salad for me, a Cajun shrimp roll for Kai, chicken fingers for Marlie and burgers for Rob and Alyssa. Then, we decided to head to Bar Island, walking across the sandbar that is only accessible during low tide.

The loop from Bar Harbor to Bar island is only about 1.5 miles long. It’s largely flat, but offers several unique paths. First, you cross a rocky path with some patches of sand and some shallow tidepools that are perfect for looking for crabs, shellfish, and other small sealife. Then, you walk along a wooded dirt path to get to the summit trail. The summit trail is slightly steep and rocky, but easy enough to climb with regular sneakers. The summit overlooks Bar Harbor and offers a lovely view of Frenchman’s Bay. It also offers respite from the sun! Though only 80 degrees and with low humidity, we were hot… probably a little dehydrated… and tired from getting up early two days in a row.

The ride home was quiet. In fact, the rest of the evening was pretty low-key and quiet. We grilled a delicious dinner. I read my book while looking out over the blue sea at the sun set, and it was lights out by 9:30. Perfection. Aside from the vomiting.

Up next? Who knows? I’m envisioning a lazy campground day with late morning coffee sipped under the awning, a trip to get ice cream, and maybe a rousing round of mini-golf topped off with a sunset trip to the Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse.

Nothing says “Seize the day!” like waking up at 3:00 AM to drive out for a 4:00 AM sunrise reservation to the Summit of Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park. I fully expected to be making this a solo trek, despite having talked up this little adventure yesterday. I mean, who in their right mind gets up hours before the dawn on the first day of vacation? It turns out… WE DO!!!

Just two days ago, I frantically logged into the National Park Service to purchase one of these coveted passes to witness the spectacular sunrise, just as they were released. (I credit last year’s Genie+ training during our Disney trip with the successful procurement one of these limited passes.) Would you believe that all six occupants made it into the car with teeth and hair brushed and without significant grumping and groaning? If I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it either, and yet, there I was driving along in the blackness, roads blanketed in thick rolling fog, listening to the Foo Fighters. Lucky for me, Rob co-piloted, keeping an eye out for moose and other wildlife and we made it to the park entrance by 4:05, just as the first pink streaks of light began to break through the low-hanging clouds.

It was a slow crawl to the summit parking lot. During the 20-minute ride to the top, the road twisted and turned and we snatched our first glimpses of the incredible Acadia National Park shoreline. Considerably colder and windier at the top, some grumping and groaning promptly followed our short walk to the bedrock areas overlooking the approaching sunrise. Hundreds of people, some huddled in blankets, some with parkas, some carrying small children, and some with full-on picnics, stared out at the horizon, waiting patiently for the sun to come up. Long about 4:45, we came to the grim realization that this would not be the most spectacular visual phenomenon since the thick gray clouds stretching across the sky were not going to lift in time for the 4:52 sunrise. (Let’s be honest… it was still pretty spectacular.)

Even with the partially obstructed view, the sunrise was pretty amazing. Never ones to throw away a chance to explore, we made our way back to the car in a pretty round-about way, both following the footpath and also exploring some of the cliffs by walking across the bedrock. We didn’t get up at some God-forsaken hour to head back to the campsite after an hour. Interestingly, we had shaken off some of the initial grogginess and chill by climbing up and down the summit slopes, marveling at the sheer cliffs and the steep drops down below. After a quick trip to the summit gift shop (I mean, if you don’t get a Sunrise Club sticker for your RV, did you even do the Sunrise Summit?), we took advantage of being in the park by scoping out some of the popular destinations we want to return to visit later in the week. By this time, it was 5:30 AM. We were seizing the day! And there was so much to seize, given that we started the day at 3:00 AM.

While we weren’t really prepared for a big hike, we did check out some of Acadia’s more popular locations: The Bubbles, Jordan Pond (but not the Pond House since it didn’t open until 11 AM – nearly six hours after our visit – but I WILL be back for one of their famous popovers later this week!), Thunder Hole, and scooted through a section of Bar Harbor. Funny story… Rob and I stood looking out over the vastness of the ocean and spotted some activity in the distance. We kept watching and again saw what appeared to be a spout of water burst into the air. We waited and saw it again. And then again. “Do you think it’s a whale?”, I asked Rob. “I think it might be,” said Rob and began pointing again. We created an entire scenario in our minds – two whales playing off the shore. What luck! Surely, they would breach, right? So, Rob ran frantically back to the car for the binoculars. By this time, we had also convinced the kids it was a whale. We waited eagerly for Rob to confirm whale activity. I was a hot second away from telling other visitors about our fortune in this once in a lifetime sighting. After ten seconds Rob confirmed our “whale” sighting was, in fact, water breaking over a large rock, probably on a sandbar. We whipped ourselves up into a frenzy for a whitecap.

After Thunder Hole, the energy in the car turned dark, so Rob and I decided to take our crew back to the Acadia Seashore Camping and Cabins for some real breakfast (more coffee), a nap (delicious), and some well-deserved rest and relaxation. When we arrived at back at the campground after a delicious bite at Acadia Coffee, it was 8:30 AM. Though the fatigue began to set in, I felt accomplished! And then I took my day-seizing behind to bed and recharged for the rest of the day.

Amazingly, I woke up from my nap feeling energized and ready to explore. Rob, Amaya and I took advantage of the low tide and explored the tide pools along the shore trail of the campground. Typical of New England shores, the beach was rocky and scattered with seaweed and shells. We poked around a bit, sank into the mud, looked for crabs, and watched some lobster harvesters pull in their traps. The workampers (people, often adventuresome couples, who volunteer their time to work in campgrounds in exchange for a place to park their camper/RV) in the camp store told us to look for Tracey, a local harvester who owns a seafood and ice cream stand two houses down from the campground. She pulls her traps up in the morning and then sells her fresh catch the same day!

The weather has been absolutely beautiful! It’s hard to believe Maine After a brief pounding storm when we first arrived (which cut down the humidity), it has been dry, sunny, and breezy in the high seventies. In other words: perfection. It was perfect for visiting the bald eagle who roosts in a tree by the campground’s community seating, a cluster of Adirondack chairs overlooking a bluff that faces the ocean. It was perfect for reading a few chapters of my book in the sun, sipping a seltzer and hearing nothing louder than the soft clang of the channel markers in the distance. After a bit of lunch and planning for the rest of our week: a longer hike, a visit to a lighthouse, confirming our whale watch reservation for tomorrow (where we will endeavor to see actual whales and not just seawater crashing over rocks), and figuring out the timing of the tides so we can walk out to Bar Island from downtown Bar Harbor (more on this tomorrow!), we decided on a stroll over to Tracey’s for ice cream. It was the perfect compliment to the quintessential summer vacation day. I highly recommend the blueberry ice cream.

I am absolutely loving this campground. There are no bells and whistles here, just beautifully maintained sites with incredible views, simple picnic tables and firepits. It’s quiet, full of dogs (still not regretting leaving ours), so clean, and the staff is incredibly friendly and helpful. Although it is a 45-minute drive from the more bustling Bar Harbor area, Sullivan, ME is a hidden gem. We get the beauty of Acadia without the Bar Harbor traffic. We get to discover some local treasures while still being conveniently within reach of the area’s more famous attractions. It is the best of both worlds.

Seizing the day is not just about the destination. It’s about making the most of every moment. It’s walking barefoot through cool green grass and wrapping up in a cozy flannel by a crackling campfire while reclining to look at a sky full of stars. It’s giggling playing board games crammed in the RV as the rain pounds the roof and throwing a frisbee across an open field as the sun sets into beautiful pinks and purples. It’s looking around you and realizing there is no other place you’d rather be and letting go of the rest of the world, even if just for a few glorious days. It’s days like this that you want to capture every last little moment like fireflies in a jar. It’s days like this that make our lives extraordinary.

” Don’t count the days, make the days count. ”

– Muhammad Ali

Normally, the travel back home from vacation can be a let down. You start making a mental list of the things you will need to do to get ready to go back to work: grocery shopping, laundry, sorting through the mail. For this reason, we always try to pepper in some fun pit stops to make our ride home palatable. The drive from Tennessee to Connecticut is around 13 hours, but 13 hours in an RV with five people and two dogs can easily turn into 18 hours, so we happily split the trip into two parts.

Our final destination for Thursday’s trip was Middletown, VA, in the northern Shenandoah Valley. – around 383 miles or six hours. Apart from a few stops to stretch our legs and let the dogs out, we drove pretty much straight through. While Lemmy was happy to be on the road again, Finn was less than thrilled and resumed shaking and hiding his head for the duration of the trip.

Nearing the end of our driving day, we all needed to stretch out legs for a few and we found just the spot – Luray Caverns, just a few miles from Middletown, VA. We’ve had some good finds on our road trips, but this was a gem of a park, tucked into Shenandoah National Park.

Luray Caverns is the largest cavern system in the eastern United States. These caverns boast 10-story high chambers full of rock formations of every imaginable texture. Some look like coral, while others look like folded cloth or glacial ice. There is even a dream”lake” (really only 12-18 inches deep) where the ceiling is reflected into the pool of water and appears like an aquatic abyss. We agreed it looked scarily like the Upside Down from Stranger Things! Luray Caverns are estimated to be over 450 million years old and are formed from a mild carbonic acid from the soil mixed with water that seeps through the ground, coming into contact with the limestone layers which hollows out the bedrock to form the hollow chambers. Erosion slowly wears away the weaker minerals, leaving the harder minerals behind to form the walls and ceilings. The stalagmites (coming up from the ground) and stalagmites (hanging form the ceiling) are formed as water drips into the chambers, releasing carbon dioxide, and crystalizing. It’s incredible to believe that these formations grow only one cubic inch every 120 years! The natural colors are formed from different minerals collected by the water – calcium carbonate (white), iron oxide (reddish-brown), and manganese oxide (grayish-black). We met some characters working in the caverns who pointed out some of the more interesting structures and regaled us with historical tidbits and cavern lore. I think these folks have spent a lot of time in the caverns.

The ride to the Wayside Inn, our Harvest Host campsite for the night was less than an hour from the caverns and is normally a beautifully scenic ride. Unfortunately, this area was hit with wildfires in late March and we saw the devastation firsthand. Miles of blackened forest, foliage completely eradicated. Rain moving into the area helped contain the fires which impacted both national forest land and private lands across 3,400 acres. Fire is frightening and difficult to control and this one began on private property with a downed electrical. Although it may take 100 years to completely recover, amazingly some regrowth is already evident on the ground. Nature is amazing that way.

The Wayside Inn 1797 did not disappoint. This gem of a Harvest Host was originally a stagecoach stop and way station as far back as the 1740s. It has 22-guest rooms decorated in 19th century-style and boast a quaint tavern with live entertainment. We set up shop in the parking lot and sat down for a delicious dinner (and some beers for the grown ups) before retiring to the camper for the night. I really think we could do an entire cross-country trip just staying at Harvest Host locations across the U.S.

Day 2 of the journey home felt a little more rushed. With just a third of a tank of water, we had the shortest showers ever before gearing up for the final leg of the trip. Rob and I were both a little groggy from waking up frequently throughout the night to the camper violently shaking from 50-60 mile per hour winds. We just could not catch a break from wild weather! In fact, that wind whipped us along our drive home – so much, in fact, that we had to slow down our speed. You would think a rig like Kevin wouldn’t be so easily shaken, but today was a two-hands-on-the-wheel kind of driving day. In fact, the number of tractor trailers pulled over in the rest areas was astonishing. No one likes driving in the wind.

While we had no grand stops planned for the day, it is customary for us to stop at one novelty roadside attraction. Behold, the World’s Largest Paint Can! Located in Shippensburg, PA, this former water tower was purchased by the Benjamin Moore store in Shippensburg and repainted (complete with handle) to resemble a giant paint can. A couple of quick snaps and it was onto the home stretch!

Pulling into our neighborhood is always both exhilarating and bittersweet. Exhilarating, knowing you will be able to stand up straight and shower without having to contort yourself to shave your legs or turn the water on and off as not to run out of hot water. Exhilarating also describes how I feel to sleep in my own bed…we are so incredibly fortunate to have a huge, comfy RV, but you know that feeling when you sleep in your bed for the first time after vacation… there’s nothing like it. Bittersweet is knowing you had an incredible vacation, but that it is now over and you have to return to work and school and millions of kid activities in just a few days. It is also knowing that you have a mountain of laundry to wash, fold, and put away. The worst.

No one was happier than this guy as we pulled into the driveway… home sweet home!

Kevin is parked, unpacked, and plugged in. We’ll be heading out to the Charlestown Breachway in just a few weeks, but for now, it’s “See you later!”

To say the weather was “unfavorable” would be a gross understatement. While we managed to squeeze in ALL of the fun during the day, the nighttime brought high winds and pelting rain. In fact, we had to take in our awning as the storms moved in so quickly, we had little time to react. Both Rob and I poked out heads outside in the middle of the night to make sure Kevin’s bits and pieces were still in tact, and not, in fact, flying off the camper. It is one of the biggest camping faux pas to scatter debris from your campsite across the campground. No one likes to wake up with someone else’s bathing suit hanging from their antenna or a camp chair flipped into their fire pit. Overall, no damage to the camper, just a very soggy campground and a weather forecast that included showers off and on for the rest of the day – nothing that would slow us down.

Any activity that includes animals is usually a winner for our group. Alyssa’s pick was Parrot Mountain and Garden of Eden, four acres tucked up in the mountains of Pigeon Forge with thousands of beautifully manicured flowers, plants and trees and hundreds of beautiful tropical birds. As we drove up the steep, winding driveway to the property, we couldn’t help but gawk at the gorgeous colors and lush landscape of the park. Picturesque stairs flanked by tropical birds on their perches led to the entrance. Ducking under thatched rooftops during the occasional cloudburst, we strolled along the treetop walkway admiring jays, macaws, cockatoos and more. Exotic birds in spacious enclosures with swings, balls, jungle gyms, perches, and feeders lined the pathways. Signs on the enclosures advised that the birds bite and not to touch the birds. Not surprisingly, the only person who needed reminding about keeping their hands to themselves was Rob.

How did such a place come to exists in Tennessee? Well, Fletcher Hollingsworth, founder of Parrot Mountain had a dream that led him to Tennessee to build an exotic bird sanctuary. As a child, he rescued and rehabilitated injured birds. Eventually, he became interested in tropical birds and began collecting them to bring to a sanctuary in New Orleans. Now that he has developed Parrot Mountain, he has collected over 130 species of exotic birds, many of which have been brought there for rehabilitation or to escape abuse. Some were surrendered as unwanted pets by their owners, and many are considered endangered species. During warm months, the birds are kept outdoors, but in the colder months, they are housed inside to protect them from the elements.

As you wander the grounds of Parrot Mountain, evidence of the Hollingsworths family’s affection for these incredible birds is pervasive, as is their spirituality. The gardens provide spots for quiet reflection, gorgeous vistas of the surrounding mountains, and opportunities to be surrounded by these beautiful creatures. Every employee working at Parrot Mountain was friendly with outward affection and appreciation for the park’s inhabitants. They helped visitors learn more about the birds, why they were there, and the best way to interact with them.

One of the draws to visiting Parrot Mountain was the opportunity to feed the birds. I never imagined that we would literally be covered in birds. In the feeding area, no photos were allowed, but there were dozens of birds, large, and small on perches, waiting to be hand fed sunflower seeds. Kai and I had some definitely hesitation in letting some of the larger birds eat out of our hands. (I have some trauma from living in Mexico where we had a macaw in our home and it was aggressive. Paco bit me on more than one occasion and those beaks are no joke!). It turns out that the large birds are gentle and they use their tongues to maneuver the sunflower seed so that their strong beak can crack it open and eat the meat from the seed. Then, they spit out the shell – it’s remarkable! Some birds hopped right on our fingers or shoulders. They are funny, with distinct personalities and incredibly verbal! Marlie even taught on to say her name!

We were also able to interact with birds as we fed the lories small cups of nectar in their protected enclosure and also in the nursery where young birds are raised and cared for by Parrot Mountain staff. I think we could have left Alyssa there all day and returned for her at dusk. Both she and Marlie have a special connection with animals. The more Kai is around them, the more he relaxes and learns to enjoy being around animals too.

If you happen to find yourself in Pigeon Forge, I cannot recommend Parrot Mountain highly enough.

From birds to boats, we headed over to Pigeon Forge’s Titanic Museum. I, too, had my doubts about a Titanic Museum in the middle of Tennessee, a place with no obvious connection to the Titanic. However, if you are a Titanic enthusiast, this place a must-see. The museum is in the shape of the ship (a 1/2 size replica), complete with iceberg. It’s very impressive from the outside! However, it is definitely a missed opportunity for the museum that you cannot stand on the bow with your arms outstretched like Kate and Leo. When we arrived, we were given cards with short biographies of actual passengers who were aboard the ship and at the end of the exhibit, we could discover their fate by finding their names on the memorial wall. Four of us were from the same family, the Anderssons, from Sweden), third class passengers. I was assigned the mother and Rob, Marlie, and Alyssa were my children. Kai was a first-class passenger, a man named Hudson Allison. As we navigated the museum, we listened to an audio-tour with narration from actual survivors and their families. Artifacts from the ship and replicas of key features such as a lifeboats, first and third class accommodations, and the Grand Staircase provide an immersive experience. Museum workers dress in period clothing and answer any questions about the ship or its passengers.

Looking at pictures of passengers boarding the ship with their belongings, excitement in their eyes, the opulence of the ship captured in eerie black and white gave me goosebumps. Dishes, jewelry, a deck chair, a trunk and other artifacts brought up from the wreckage are ghostly reminders of the tragedy that occurred. You can hop on the sloping decks to experience how it might have felt as the ship descended, touch water at 28 degrees, the temperature of the North Atlantic the night the ship hit the iceberg and use the telegraph to send a distress signal.

As you move through the exhibit, which is staged like a timeline of events in the ship’s history, the intensity builds. I can hardly imagine the panic and fear that ensued on the night of April 14th, 1912 and often wonder how survivors dealt with the aftermath. Of the 135 children on board (ages 15 and under), over 50% were lost. First class passengers had a survival rate of 62%, while third class passengers had a survival rate of only 25%. We found our passenger’s names on the memorial wall at the end of the tour. Each one of them perished aboard Titanic. Having the name of a passenger assigned during your visit personalizes the experience. You root for this individual’s survival. I felt a little gut-punch on finding out Mrs. Alfrida Andersson’s fate.

Here are our bios and a photo of the actual family:

So much excitement and so little time! After a quick stop at the Fun Zone, where Marlie and Alyssa rode the giant spring swing, we had an early night with breakfast for dinner and another episode of Physical 100. Tomorrow we pack up early and head to Middletown, VA and another Harvest Host site.

Pigeon Forge, it’s been a blast!