We took a ride north along the coast of Maine. We opted for the slower road for the fifty mile drive as apposed to the interstate. There is a big difference in time it takes. The toll highway would get us there in about an hour. The coastal road about three.
We drove through towns and villages with odd names like Ogunquit, Biddeford and Saco. There are motels along with bed and breakfasts galore as we maneuvered from stop light to stop light. Convenience stores and fast food shops lined the roadways at first. Then off into the quiet obscurity of the denseness of Maine. Rolling terrain carved through the forest on paved desolate roads edging around curves to the left and then to the right. The trees so tall and foliage so dense you could but understand with a finger on the map that the ocean was nearby.
The more familiar name of Kennebunkport bought us through a small village with more stately homes with the inviting porches and adorned doorways. A reflection back to the familiarity of the name of this area when President Bush – I – spent time with his family on vacation. Whereever his place is located is hidden from the public in the denseness of the forest.
I wanted to look at some lighthouses. Places were called Cape Porpoise which in my mind logically could have a lighthouse. Then I noticed closer to Portland in small red letters on the map the word light. This is after we spent a couple of hours driving the curved roads through obscurity. I remember now the Maine coast from when we traveled through here with John about six years ago. Remote and tedious best describes it.
This time Stan and I drove to the ocean through a small coastal town of Biddeford Pool. The streets had beach homes, more like mansions on both sides. There was no access to the ocean. Just a glimmer across a thick four foot high hedges of pink wild roses.
I recalled the delicate fragrance of those pink roses lining the parking area of the Nubble lighthouse in York Maine the day before. These rose bushes are vibrant in their growth almost to like becoming weeds.
There were three lighthouses, well four really, that we found on the coast of Portland: 1) Portland Head Light by Fort Williams in the most manicured ground , 2) one ancient one out in the ocean that you could see in the distance as being abandoned and deteriorating, 3 and 4) Two lights you viewed looking back to land from the most interesting outcroppings of boulders and cliffs that looked just like petrified wood.
Two lights was interesting. We barely found them close to Cape Elizabeth. Remember the difficulty in maneuvering along winding roads with lots of connecting “ys” to the left or off to the right. We came to the state park where we thought the lighthouses were, paid our $1.50/ per senior and mentioned to the ranger that we couldn’t wait to see the lighthouses. She indicated that this was just a park with trails for hiking. Oops.!. She gave us back our $3 and sent us on our way, but not before she ooh and aah’d over Colorado. Really, she lives and works in one of the most interesting coasts in America. All relative I guess. I mentioned in our conversation with the ranger that I was looking for a great piece of pie. She told us of the Good Table restaurant where the beach road meets highway 77.
We found the road to two lights, parked and looked around for the lighthouses which are usually at the edge of the cliff. Not so in this case. One was apparent as you looked back at the land – private land. You could only see it from afar up on the hill.
Stan had scoped out the other one and I was miffed for awhile trying to find it. All I saw was what looked like an observatory with slits at the top of a dome hidden deep among homes and trees. None of these were accessible for a close up look. We took a ride through the closed off dead end streets of the neighborhoods and snapped a couple of photos. Yes that second one was a lighthouse (not an observatory) nestled between hilly terrain along streets lined with other homes.
On the way back we passed by Maxwell’s farm growing fields of plump ripe strawberries. At the end of the road where the beach road met highway 77 was the Good Table rstaurant that served the most delicious and expensive strawberry pie and strawberry cheesecake I’ve ever had. It’s vacation after all and I’m worth it.