North

There's something kind of disconcerting about heading up to Northern Maine. I've been making the trip my entire life, and I still get creeped out. During the summer months, where there is an influx of traffic that seems to get worse every year in most of the state, but as soon as you get above Bangor, the highway and streets are eerily empty. No cars, no towns, no people. Just woods. The kind of woods that if you walked 10 feet into them, you could manage to get lost and never be heard from again.

True story: when I was 6, my aunt told me their were dinosaurs living out back in the woods. Even though I knew they were all long dead and fossilized and I wasn't a particularly gullible kid, I totally believed her. They are the kind of woods that can hold a secret.

It's the kind of place where you stop to help the turtles across the road.

Also, rather terrifyingly, moose abound.

Moose are fearless. Their only natural predator are wolves, and there are few of those even in these woods. They do not bat an eye when you stumble upon one, and unlike deer, they will stand their ground and even charge if they think you are a threat. They are also too stupid to be afraid of cars, and they frequently congregate on the sides of the road to lick off rock salt leftover from the winter.

This is why moose hunting is not a sport.

They are quite tasty though. The biggest challenge being to drag something that huge out of the woods, but those who do have a nice freezer full of meat for the winter.

I've only been able to take pictures of the ass ends of deer as they are running away, but you could sit in front of a moose and take pictures until you are bored. They stare at you placidly and stupidly and go about their day.

Oh, and in this part of Maine, you can get on a list with the local game wardens. If someone hits and kills a deer with their car, the warden will call you up to come fetch your roadkill.

So, the creepy factor continues. The town of Millinocket is still desolate and economically depressed. There are more empty houses and full, and it's just quiet in a way it shouldn't be.

Want to buy a house here? 3 bedrooms start at $25,000. You can pay your downpayment with whatever you find under your sofa cushions. You will probably have to commute to work 60 miles each way to Bangor, meaning your gas will cost more than your mortgage.

It's just odd to walk around and encounter almost no one. Despite their being sidewalks, no one actually seems to use them.

Hence the need to leave town and head to the lake, where it's okay that no one else is around.

More Foothills and Mucho Suds

Another day, another hike. This time in the South Foothills of the city. I was tickled to death that there were prairie dogs everywhere.







The one sentry would give a chirp and suddenly the ground was crawling with furry fat rodents as they darted back to the dens for safety. It kind of reminded me of the rat colonies in Thompson Square Park, but these were much cuter.







It was a nice morning for a quick hike- after our previous mountain adventures, hills were a cakewalk. It was overcast and a little cooler. Pretty soon, it started to rain and thunder, so we took off for town.

Colorado is a beery kind of place. There are lots of independent breweries and there seemed to be a high concentration of home brewers. We checked out the Avery brewery because they had free tours.





The guide was knowledgeable about the whole process and he seemed to really enjoy himself. It's a pretty complex operation.

I liked how they have a warning label that we shouldn't be diving head first into the beer tank:


Afterwards, it was fun to sample all the goods. My disclaimer being that I don't particularly care for beer still rings true, but I do still sample everything that is handed to me. I guess I'm trying to develop my palate, or hoping one day it will all click and I'll start appreciate what I'm tasting. It all, uh, tastes like beer to me. Some offend me more than others.



It's a convivial kind of place- it looks like a German beer hall. There were lots of people hanging out and playing board games.



Oddly enough, the brewery was in an industrial park, so you really had to be committed to your beer drinking as there was nothing else in that particular area.

Clermont l'Herault and Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert

It was market day in Clermont.















That was just waaay too much excitement for me to handle. We picked up enough for lunch (and then quite a bit more) and drove up to Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert, which is considered to be the prettiest village in France.



It lived up to its claim. It had narrow winding car-free streets and an Abbey that was founded in 804. It was surrounded by mountains and cliffs and a beautiful deep river.



We rented kayaks and paddled several miles through the gorge.



The entire trip down the Herault was stunning. We didn't see a sign of humanity except for another occasional paddler. The river was teaming with fish. At times, the sound of frogs was almost deafening.