This past weekend The Wiff and I made our way up to Maine. We were invited up by Andy and Nerissa to stay at their campsite. Actually we had been invited up Memorial Day weekend but the Volvo only wanted to go as far as Saco. Luckily we were able to limp the old girl home and get the repairs made and this time the car worked perfectly. Since it was predicted to be 1,000 degrees here in Boston we were psyched to get away from all the asphalt.
Since gas is so expensive I drive like a little old man with a hat. Not to mention that the Volvo is about as aerodynamic as a armoire so driving fast just kills the gas mileage. So the trip took longer than I'm used to. But, so much less stressful. Try it next time you go on the highway for a trip. Just go slow in the far right lane and you'll be amazed at how much more relaxed you'll feel. At least I did.
We got to the camp, unloaded our crap and immediately got stung to death by mosquitoes. Why does nature have to be full of bugs? They had some bug spray that was labeled "Family Scent" so we doused ourselves in that. We all smelled like family (tip of the hat to Nerissa since that's her joke). Andy and I decided to go to The Liberal Cup and have a beer or two. They have special handmade ceramic cups for the regulars (members of the Mug Club). The bartender sees you come in, grabs your special mug which is hanging in the bar with this little contraption and fills it with the brew of your choice. Marky want. I need to move here.
Back at the campsite it must have been frickin' breeding season or something for every species of frog that weekend because those little dudes were making a huge racket. I could ignore it for a little while (sort of letting it become white noise) but there was a few of them on our side of the stream and it sounded like they were in the trees. I grabbed my flashlight and walked into the woods behind the cabin and waited for the chirp so I could pinpoint it. After a little bit I was able to find a little gray tree frog about 2 1/2 inches long. Holy crap that lil' guy could make noise.
The next morning we went into town to the A1 Diner and on the drive back we came across a family of woodchucks or gophers or something (look, I'm from the city. All small animals are either a squirrel or a rat) on the dirt road to the campsite. We were in their Prius so it was pretty quiet. We drove up to them and stopped to take a look and I was pretty sure all that we would see is their little butts high-tailing it away from us. Nope. They decided that it would be a really good idea to run UNDER the car. All of them. There must have been 5 or 6 of the furry little dumb-dumbs. Andy beeped the horn to hopefully frighten them out from under the car but that didn't work. So The Wiff got out and very animatedly tried to shoo them away. She was successful with the exception of one stubborn bugger (plus it was hilarious to think that if someone was looking at her and didn't know what she was trying to do, they'd just see this crazy lady on her hands and knees on a dirt road yelling at a car). She gave us the go-ahead to drive slowly forward so Andy did. I looked back and I could see the gopher/woodchuck/whatever-the-hell chasing after the car. "GO!" I yelled, "Quick! He's gonna catch us!" You'd think that we were being chased by a black bear or something. Finally he gave up the chase, cursed out The Wiff with his tiny rodent barking and took off into the woods. I was exhausted.
By noon on Sunday the heat had finally made even Maine unbearable so we said our goodbyes and made our way back home. Turns out it was a good thing that we weren't around Saturday night since there was a shooting right up the street from our house. Sigh. Maine is taunting me.
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