freeskier125
Observer
It was a long weekend of dodging snowplows and shovelers. New England was coated with 3-6" of fresh cold, squeeky snow and freezing temperatures, so I brushed off the rig and let 'er warm up before setting off towards Downeast Maine for a 3 day New Year's trip. I've been visiting Acadia NP for 16 years with my family, but never during winter. The real reason for heading to Maine was to watch the first sunrise of the New Year at Quoddy Head Light House (Eastern-most point of the U.S.) and test the whole camper setup before I leave for Tahoe at the end of the month. Needless to say, the Sun-Lite isn't a 4 season camper.
Setting off
My first destination was Bah Hahbah for some grub at Geddy's. I took RT3 + RT1 and stopped by the few open interesting points along the way.
Penobscot River...
Drove around Fort Knox...
I arrived at Mt. Desert Island just in time for sunset. I was surprised the 3-6" back home turned into 14"+ (which is very unusual) once I crossed over the bridge, they could barley keep up with it. Every road and every tree was basted with snow making it a winter wonderland. I kept taking right hand turns until I found a place to park on a western road where I'd watch the sun fall below the horizon, near the water of course, ending up at Bartlett Narrows.
Neat lil video of me pulling over for the sunset. It's more colorful then the pictures my Pentax adventure proof point-n-shoot camera takes.
After sunset, I rallied across island (avoiding deer whom were overwhelmed with the new snow and decided to walk down the road instead) to one of the only open restaurants, Geddy's. Between devouring my shredded bacon bbq chedder burger, I tried searching google maps for an open parking lot or something similar near the Park Loop Rd where I could spend the night. As usual, it ended up being a guessing game, driving around really fancy neighborhoods for 45 minutes without any luck. Finally, I ran into a plowed section of the Park Loop but was at the wrong end of the 1 way road. Switching between satellite images, I could see a few parking lots just north from where I was. Frig it. I went about a 1/4 mile the wrong way towards the first lot to find it was not plowed out. Kept on going to the second lot, not plowed either. Kept on going. The third lot was plowed so I pulled in to set up camp for the night around 9PM.
The storm was still hanging around making it quite cold and windy, especially being directly on the coast. The barometric pressure was getting near hurricane low's, with single digit temps, and a coastal wind advisory. I put 1 jack down to stabilize the camper, cranked the heat, and got myself organized for the night. Finding out I forgot my HDMI cord for the computer/TV, I pulled out my mast with the antenna attached to see what local channels I might pickup. No luck. After fiddling around and striking out I decided to call it a night, climbing up into bed... Within minutes I realized it was far too cold and I'd be sleeping with the roof down. So, I quickly re-orginised, set up the dinette sleeping area and dropped it down. Setting the thermostat as low as it could go I tried again to fade into sleep. Having the wind howl around the camper and the ocean waves crashing, occasionally rattling the camper like thunder, I knew I was in for a long night.
The only (and lousy) picture I have from that night. Can't really tell but it says it's cold out. (Single digits without the steady 15-20MPH breeze)
The camper didn't hold any heat and would drop from the high 40's down into the teen's every 35 minutes or so. I slept through the heat kicking on and off along with the other wild noises outside until 12:45AM when I rolled over, sweating in my 0* bag, to find no heat blowing from the furnace. :O I laid there debating what to do, knowing this is how horror stories probably begin. I could picture the local news headline "Idiot camping in winter storm freezes to death. Sub-zero temps" I tried the fridge and stove to confirm I was out of propane and not some other issue, I had come over prepared for just about anything else but didn't even consider how much propane I had left. So, I threw on my gear and packed up camp optimistically to find propane at 1AM. Miraculously, within an hour I was parked back at the same spot with a new tank I exchanged at an Irving gas station, sooo ready to get back in bed. Luckly the rest of the night was uneventful.
I awoke to a wonderful sunrise and the sound of waves crashing. I reluctantly squirmed out of my sleeping bag and prepared myself for another day. Pulling out of the lot in daylight I noticed a brown Park Sign next to the entrance. Thunder Hole Parking. How about that! I accidently spent the night at Thunder Hole! Explains all the ground shaking from the waves that night. Arriving in the dark, I knew I was on the coast but had no idea of all the beautiful scenery that was whizzing by.
I finished the Park Loop Rd, driving in the proper direction, to head back and restart the cruise down what little section was open and plowed. 20 minutes later I pulled up to find the first gate was locked!? ...with Park Rangers showing up only seconds later. After shooting the breeze they said come back in the afternoon and it might be open. I didn't tell them I snuck in or that it wasn't too windblown (occasionally hub deep) and they should totally let me get first tracks. I turned around and headed back to Bah Hahbaah for breakfast.
Park Loop Rd...
Park Loop Rd.
Downtown Bah Hahbah
After a stack of Maine's finest blueberry pancakes, I returned to the beginning of the Park Loop Rd to see the gate was still closed. I passed one of the Rangers I had chatted with on the way back, he even waved at me, but there was no way I or anybody else could legitimately drive down the road. I finally decided to leave and meandered clockwise around the Island checking out all the wonderful views.
Schooner Head Drive.
Sargeant Drive.
Sargeant Drive.
Town of Mt. Desert
Bass Harbor Head Light House
Turquoise ocean in Maine (remember; this is from my mediocre point-n-shoot, it was unbelievably vivid being there)
The Seawall is a special place to me. Back in '97 on one of our annual family camping excursions (our family of 3 boys and close family friends with 4 girls) we had lunch at the Seawall. By the end of the week the young girl's were tired, had enough, and wishing to be back home, so of course my older brother kept teasing them and saying "Seeeeeaawaaaaaalllll..." till the youngest one broke down and began to cry. It became a running joke between us and also became the name of my fathers little computer consulting business. www.seawall.com (network security, seawall.... we thought it was neat) I was going to drive out onto it but there was too much traffic.
I tanked up somewhere near Seal Cove at an old gas station. (found that the pumps didn't have an auto shutoff when I happen to look over and see dollar bills flowing out the fuel door and down my bed side, I casually kicked some fresh snow over to cover up the evidence) Afterwards I hit the road headed east toward Lubec, finding hardly any open attractions en-route to the east'est east coast in the U.S.. Again, I arrived just in time for sunset.
Setting off
My first destination was Bah Hahbah for some grub at Geddy's. I took RT3 + RT1 and stopped by the few open interesting points along the way.
Penobscot River...
Drove around Fort Knox...
I arrived at Mt. Desert Island just in time for sunset. I was surprised the 3-6" back home turned into 14"+ (which is very unusual) once I crossed over the bridge, they could barley keep up with it. Every road and every tree was basted with snow making it a winter wonderland. I kept taking right hand turns until I found a place to park on a western road where I'd watch the sun fall below the horizon, near the water of course, ending up at Bartlett Narrows.
Neat lil video of me pulling over for the sunset. It's more colorful then the pictures my Pentax adventure proof point-n-shoot camera takes.
After sunset, I rallied across island (avoiding deer whom were overwhelmed with the new snow and decided to walk down the road instead) to one of the only open restaurants, Geddy's. Between devouring my shredded bacon bbq chedder burger, I tried searching google maps for an open parking lot or something similar near the Park Loop Rd where I could spend the night. As usual, it ended up being a guessing game, driving around really fancy neighborhoods for 45 minutes without any luck. Finally, I ran into a plowed section of the Park Loop but was at the wrong end of the 1 way road. Switching between satellite images, I could see a few parking lots just north from where I was. Frig it. I went about a 1/4 mile the wrong way towards the first lot to find it was not plowed out. Kept on going to the second lot, not plowed either. Kept on going. The third lot was plowed so I pulled in to set up camp for the night around 9PM.
The storm was still hanging around making it quite cold and windy, especially being directly on the coast. The barometric pressure was getting near hurricane low's, with single digit temps, and a coastal wind advisory. I put 1 jack down to stabilize the camper, cranked the heat, and got myself organized for the night. Finding out I forgot my HDMI cord for the computer/TV, I pulled out my mast with the antenna attached to see what local channels I might pickup. No luck. After fiddling around and striking out I decided to call it a night, climbing up into bed... Within minutes I realized it was far too cold and I'd be sleeping with the roof down. So, I quickly re-orginised, set up the dinette sleeping area and dropped it down. Setting the thermostat as low as it could go I tried again to fade into sleep. Having the wind howl around the camper and the ocean waves crashing, occasionally rattling the camper like thunder, I knew I was in for a long night.
The only (and lousy) picture I have from that night. Can't really tell but it says it's cold out. (Single digits without the steady 15-20MPH breeze)
The camper didn't hold any heat and would drop from the high 40's down into the teen's every 35 minutes or so. I slept through the heat kicking on and off along with the other wild noises outside until 12:45AM when I rolled over, sweating in my 0* bag, to find no heat blowing from the furnace. :O I laid there debating what to do, knowing this is how horror stories probably begin. I could picture the local news headline "Idiot camping in winter storm freezes to death. Sub-zero temps" I tried the fridge and stove to confirm I was out of propane and not some other issue, I had come over prepared for just about anything else but didn't even consider how much propane I had left. So, I threw on my gear and packed up camp optimistically to find propane at 1AM. Miraculously, within an hour I was parked back at the same spot with a new tank I exchanged at an Irving gas station, sooo ready to get back in bed. Luckly the rest of the night was uneventful.
I awoke to a wonderful sunrise and the sound of waves crashing. I reluctantly squirmed out of my sleeping bag and prepared myself for another day. Pulling out of the lot in daylight I noticed a brown Park Sign next to the entrance. Thunder Hole Parking. How about that! I accidently spent the night at Thunder Hole! Explains all the ground shaking from the waves that night. Arriving in the dark, I knew I was on the coast but had no idea of all the beautiful scenery that was whizzing by.
I finished the Park Loop Rd, driving in the proper direction, to head back and restart the cruise down what little section was open and plowed. 20 minutes later I pulled up to find the first gate was locked!? ...with Park Rangers showing up only seconds later. After shooting the breeze they said come back in the afternoon and it might be open. I didn't tell them I snuck in or that it wasn't too windblown (occasionally hub deep) and they should totally let me get first tracks. I turned around and headed back to Bah Hahbaah for breakfast.
Park Loop Rd...
Park Loop Rd.
Downtown Bah Hahbah
After a stack of Maine's finest blueberry pancakes, I returned to the beginning of the Park Loop Rd to see the gate was still closed. I passed one of the Rangers I had chatted with on the way back, he even waved at me, but there was no way I or anybody else could legitimately drive down the road. I finally decided to leave and meandered clockwise around the Island checking out all the wonderful views.
Schooner Head Drive.
Sargeant Drive.
Sargeant Drive.
Town of Mt. Desert
Bass Harbor Head Light House
Turquoise ocean in Maine (remember; this is from my mediocre point-n-shoot, it was unbelievably vivid being there)
The Seawall is a special place to me. Back in '97 on one of our annual family camping excursions (our family of 3 boys and close family friends with 4 girls) we had lunch at the Seawall. By the end of the week the young girl's were tired, had enough, and wishing to be back home, so of course my older brother kept teasing them and saying "Seeeeeaawaaaaaalllll..." till the youngest one broke down and began to cry. It became a running joke between us and also became the name of my fathers little computer consulting business. www.seawall.com (network security, seawall.... we thought it was neat) I was going to drive out onto it but there was too much traffic.
I tanked up somewhere near Seal Cove at an old gas station. (found that the pumps didn't have an auto shutoff when I happen to look over and see dollar bills flowing out the fuel door and down my bed side, I casually kicked some fresh snow over to cover up the evidence) Afterwards I hit the road headed east toward Lubec, finding hardly any open attractions en-route to the east'est east coast in the U.S.. Again, I arrived just in time for sunset.