Growing up in Maine I developed a keen sense of direction. Home was always towards the ocean- if you smell carefully enough or listen closely enough you would be sure to find it. With that terrible saying of “Ya can’t get thaya from heya” always haunting us Mainers it was of utmost importance to know your way home at all times. Winding back roads with no mile markers, street lights, or road signs were always the fastest and most direct way for any trip worth taking.
Some trips that I miss taking now that I am no longer in Maine and can’t just get in and go:
1. The long and amazing trip up 27 to hunt for sugar at the loaf… and PBR.
2. Bar Harbor. Plain and simple. Amazing sights and smells and hidden gems of history.
3. The Jetty. The drive down isn’t always fun but the long walk out past the flat rocks and clam cakes make it all worth it.
4. Red’s Eats. Dinosaur fries. (You must always stop at Big Al’s)
5. The trip home from Sunday River with the girls on Sundays because it always involved nachos and rocks.
Now that I am no longer in Maine I know that I can still find my way home by heading due north. North up Broad Street and an illegal left turn and I am home in the hood. I guess that I like the south facing view- more sunshine to light up house through the windows.
In a week I’ll be heading north up 95 to vacationland. I’m giddy with anticipation of home and all things Maine.
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