Rainclouds

After leaving the top of Cadillac Mountain around 1am, I had to stop on the way down because the fog rolling over the mountain was so thick that I couldn’t see the road. I waited on the same pullout where I had watched the sun rise the previous morning. As the fog cleared I saw what I thought were street lights from Bar Harbor down below. I watched them for a while and noticed that some were getting closer together and others farther apart and I realized that these were not buildings but boats on the bay. Fog rolled in and out and in between I watched these lights bob and meander through the fog down below.

My original plan after visiting Acadia was to drive up to Nova Scotia and take a ferry over to Newfoundland. Unfortunately when I tried to purchase a ticket for the ferry I discovered that during the summer it fills up for months in advance. So Newfoundland will have to be left for another trip and I will go straight to Quebec. This will give me a chance to add some stops on the west coast later in my trip.

To get to the border I cut across Maine from the coast on small country highways. The rain that’s held off so far on my trip pours down today but intermittently as I seem to be driving along the edge of the storm. I enjoy this route because rather than bypassing every town like an interstate, these highways go right through the main street of each town I pass and I see some doing well and others with rusted out plows and hand painted conspiracy theory billboards displayed in front yards.

By the time I reach the border it seems that I’ve outraced the storm and it is sunny while I wait in line. This particular crossing isn’t built near any town and it seems strange to be driving down an empty highway in the forest and suddenly run into a line of cars stretching up a hill. To my surprise I’m able to cross the border after only a few stern questions by the Canadian border officer. I had worried that the appearance of my car and my travelling alone would result in a thorough search.

The scenery changes as I cross over into Canada, the road in Maine had been under the trees and along valleys but now the road is high up above the fields stretching to a distant horizon on both sides. With this expanded horizon I see that I’m running into the storm again, now colored dark blue and yellow by the setting sun.