For those of you not
familiar with Maine, you can crisscross the state on numerous country
back roads, roads that seem to go no where. Sure we have the major
highways, at least running north and south. But to experience the
true character of Maine one only needs to spend a bit of time touring
places like T 16 R14 or Square Lake (T16 R5) to get the real flavor
of Maine. I'm not talking about the sweet taste of a freshly cook
lobster or clams direct from the ocean. I am talking about what you
do when you are lost and have no idea where in the world where you
are or how to get home.
Now before you all
suggest that I type my location into my cell phone, I need to remind
you that there are still many areas in the back woods of Maine void
of cell service and besides, it only works if I remembered to take it
off the dining room table and bring it along. And what is that new
expression.....'out of cell out of mind!'
It started out as a
beautiful ride on a cool Fall morning. The colorful foliage provided
a fantastic contrast to the blue sky and puffy white clouds. A few
left turns here and then a couple to the right and I was deep into
the Maine woods. As it got closer to lunch time, I decided it was
time to head back, but which way was back.
Here are a couple of
facts to remember. There are very few street or road signs in most
of the Maine woods. Keeps the state budget down. There are very few
houses and not much other traffic. And most important, regardless of
which way you turn, everything looks the same...trees, trees and more
trees.
After driving for a few
more miles in what seemed like circles, I was surprised to come upon
a very small general store. The sign in the window said 'Wilson's
General Store' for all you local shopping needs.
Several men stood by
the counter, drinking coffee and discussing the local politics and of
course, the weather. The lady behind the counter was rearranging the
boxes of shotgun shell and neatly folded blaze orange hunting vests.
The vests appeared to be the 'one size fits all' model.
I wanted to act 'cool'
and not seem like someone from away so after pouring myself a cup of
coffee and grabbing a Ring Ding off the shelf I casually said....”I
spent a bit too much time taking in the beautiful scenery and I am
running a bit late. Can you guys give me directions for the quickest
way back to the interstate?” I think the word that gave it away was
' interstate.' They knew I was not a local.
The first to reply
simply responded by saying...”turn around and go back the way you
came.” That was easier said than done and I confessed I had not
really been paying attention.
The second offered more
detail. “Take a left out of the parking lot. Go about three miles
to the big oak tree on the corner of the 'ole Warren place. Take the
next right. If you pass the dead deah (that's deer for those of you
from away) carcass on the side of the road, you've go too far. Turn
around and take the next left. Follow that road to the next 'fillin'
station.
At this point the lady
behind the counter asked...”Which way ya headin' on the interstate,
north or south? There is an easier way to get there 'pending on
which way you're going.
“South'” was my
response.
“Figures,” was
her's. “Could tell just by the brand new boots on your feet.
L.L.Bean ?”
For the next few
minutes the three argued as to the best route to send me so I could
get to where I was heading.
The final directions
included a turn at the local sand shed, keeping to the right at the
twin forks, staying to the left of the old log cabin and keeping an
eye out for the horse barn surrounded by the white fence. “When you
get there, you're getting close.
“Need a box of
shells?” she asked.
“Nope. Not this
trip.” Like I could find my way back there!
I “thanked” them
for their help, paid for another Ring Ding and started out on the
journey. Much to my surprise, within the hour or so I was back on the
interstate and heading for home.
With the advent of the
'garmins' and the cell phones, provided you are within reach of a
signal, the need to be able to ask and be given directions is
quickly becoming a dying art, especially if the directions include a
bit of the local flavor, whether it be a bit of “down-east' or
southern Aroostook county humor.
And as I climbed into
my car, I could hear the three of them laughing. “He probably has
never held a shotgun and doesn't even know what a box of shells is
used for!!”
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