Bar Harbor sunset from the Margaret Todd
21 June 2024
I woke up at 4:40 without the alarm, turned my head to look out the window, saw clouds, and went back to sleep.
I hadn't been on the sand bar yet. Jack didn't want to risk his bum knee on the uneven surface, so, in the late morning, I walked over by myself.
The sky had cleared. The tide was out, on its way back in.
At low tide, I always look for a certain large rock sporting a seaweed mustache. I named it "Mustache Rock." He has lost some of his facial hair lately. It didn't used to look this Hitlerian.
Behind Mustache Rock is one I named "Hipster Rock." This fella could compete in a bearding contest.
I like taking pictures of the sand and stones at low tide.
Under the seaweed was a long beam.
Bar Island:
As I approached the entrance to the Bar Island trail, a mountain biker came down and across the sand bar. I'm not sure that's allowed.
Seaweed marks high tides on Bar Island:
These small trees looked much happier a few years ago.
The path to the Bar Island summit is short and easy. It starts off in the woods.
The path opens onto a field with flowering trees and lupines.
Back in the woods, there's a side trail that is marked "private." The public trail starts to climb and get a little rocky.
I'd forgotten about the last bit at the summit. Jack remembered, which, he said later, is why he stayed at the hotel.
I've been up here a handful of times. Each year, the view is more obscured by trees.
The long slope in the distance is Cadillac Mountain.
I saw a trail off to the side and went down a bit to explore.
Not sure where it led, I went back to the summit. From here, one can zoom in on the breakwater off of Bald Porcupine Island.
There's a pile of stones at the summit, for some reason.
On my way down, I decided to follow the trail marked "private." I wasn't the only one. There were plenty of people in both directions. I had originally thought someone lived here; now I was thinking that the designation meant that the national park wasn't responsible for this trail's upkeep. I really don't know.
The trail led to ruins of an old house.
Rockefeller's teeth?
The side trail was leading back towards the main one. There were views of the bay.
As I headed down toward the trail entrance, I remembered a side trail I'd partially explored last time I was up here. I followed it as it curved around the western tip of the island.
I saw nobody else, so I kept an eye out for landmarks for the way back.
There was a low, loud rumble coming from across the bay. Between branches, I could see the CAT ferry pulling in from Yarmouth, Nova Scotia.
The rumbling of the engine bounced across the bay and the islands. It went on for far too long.
I crossed paths with someone who asked me if we were in danger of getting stuck here by the high tide. "You have plenty of time," I assured him. I turned around shortly after that, when the trail seemed to peter out. I lost the path for a bit on my way back, ending up on a side trail that passed some colorful boat debris.
I found the main trail again easily enough, and made my way back down to the sand bar.
I checked a map when I got back to the hotel room. Using Ridewithgps' "OSM outdoor" overlay, I saw that there's a complete trail all the way around Bar Island. I'd picked it up on the "private" section and again on my way down. Maybe next time, with my friends in tow in August, we can time it so that we go all the way around.
The clouds were back by mid-afternoon, when we wandered over to Margaret Todd's dock to buy tickets for the evening sail.
By 5:45, when got in line to board the boat, the sky had clouded over.
That's our hotel from the Margaret Todd pier.
Anyone who has followed my Maine blogging all these years might be wondering why the moose over Geddy's restaurant hasn't yet made an appearance. The answer is that it hadn't been lighting up at night. I had to settle for an unlit moose.
I took my usual round of pictures from the boat before it left the dock.
As we passed Sheep Porcupine's dying trees, I took some more pictures.
The captain informed us that there's a bald eagle nest on Sheep Porcupine Island. I couldn't find it.
Cadillac Mountain:
Sheep Porcupine Island:
Kayakers:
Sheep Porcupine Island:
Long Porcupine Island, close-up:
Burnt Porcupine Island:
Bald Porcupine Island:
Someone spotted a porpoise off one side of the boat, then the other. At this point, we'd been bobbing up and down, going nowhere, for more than a few minutes. The wind had died. The captain turned on the motor and we puttered back towards the harbor.
Sheep Porcupine's dead trees from another angle:
So very dead:
What's that sign?
The fellow next to me (from Nebraska) looked at my camera's zoomed-in photo. "Looks like a bird."
Ah! The bald eagles' nest!
As we approached the dock, there was a glimmer of color in the clouds.
We had a sunset after all!
I kept taking pictures as we walked up the pier. Jack was trying to hurry me along. We had dinner reservations on the other side of town.
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