Excertps from A Walkabout with Principesa Woman

6-3-13

Here we lay in the Robin Hill Cemetery.  The air is infused with the scent of beets.  And everyone knows that a story that starts with beets ends with another garden vegetable.
EXCEPT THIS ONE.
This one will end with ACADIA.
Not 27 yards away lie the physical remains of a clairvoyant physician.
Not 100 yards away lies a highway.
But all is quiet and peaceful in a cemetery.  Trees surround soft grass, people who may have gone any other number of places beyond their burial ground are still thought of and visited by loved ones.

6-4

Trip morals

1) Tell the truth (x3)
2) If you're confused, lack of #1 gets a free pass
3) Forgetting < Being Confused but still okay
4) Lying is the worst (see #1)

Rules

1) Speak in a whipser week 1, lip reading week 2, mind reading week 3
2) keep your gaze at a 20 degree angle maximum from the ground
3) if you feel tired when trying to biphase, you can monophase
4) yellowish red streamwater is not for consumption.

Events

~Angelica bestowed her grace upon us
~we were offered a tiny suitcase for both of our backpacks to fit in
~we cooked carrot bean soup secret with homemade stove
~mailed Gramps a nonfiction book about a traveling cat, for Father's Day, return address an arbitrary intersection where we happened to be at the current moment
~we spent $6, bringing the 2-day total to $7
~got danced at by the most enthusiastic UPS driver in the state of Massachusetts, maybe in the US

6-5

Today we picked up Christina, our baby stroller, at a thrift store.  We ate strawberry and bubblegum peep sandwiches.  Christina, our faithful friend through thick and thin, whether we spoke of her with reverence or disdain.

6-6

Woke up at 4am due to Holly's excellent coaching.  Off by 4:30... the sky was already turning pink!
When we stopped for a breakfest of lentils and Very Condensed Sweet Potatoes, a school bus driver exploded in glee in response to our curb wave.
The fam walked on.  The fam being Hepzibah, Balaina, Merle, Christina, Holly and Laura.
Near lunchtime an old man and his wife pulled up next to us.  The old man gruffly and loudly declared "Here!" and gave us $4.  His wife assisted him from there.  "So you can get yourselves a cold drink."  Wow!
Right after that a truck drove past with the word "Karma" on the grill hehehehehehe.
We took a dip in the pond, gave Holly her first haircut of mannnnny, and then we got to meet Gus.

As we were walking on 110, we saw a sign for the birthplace of John Greenleaf Whittier.  It was hard to simply walk past this sign, since the Whittiers have inadvertently become a part of my life via research for Stephen Sakellarios.

A field trip was leaving the home so we just looked at the sign outside.  And then Gus came out.  A 78 year old man of about 62 vertical inches.  Gus is a bona fide historian.  He accidentally gave us a free tour of the entire Whittier home, but he didn't even stop there.  He offered us books, answered our questions, asked us to sign the guestbook, and found out about our walk.  Uh oh.  InSISting on giving us a ride to Salisbury in his 1969 Chevy Impala with boat-sized trunk for gear-stashing, we could not hold out very long.
Gus is a very dramatic fellow.  He loves to go "Oooooo," clap his hand to his forehead, slow down mid sentence to build suspense and/or allow his audience to chime in.  And he loves to tell a story.  Plus, he's very good at it.
Mid-Whittier-tour, a man came in and asked permission for a few minutes' stay in the supposedly-closed-house-museum, because he'd wanted to come here for 25 years and finally made it at a time when it was "open"!  Gus always says yes when someone wants to see the home.  He works 7 days a week partially because of this fact.  So, the man came in.  When he talked or laughed, his whole belly would lift up and down with his diaphragm.  And it was quite a belly.  He was so happy to be there and on his way out he kept saying "God bless you, God bless you all." What a man.
Gus liked that I knew a bit of Whittier history.  And he loved Holly, for how could you not?  Soon enough we were all officially life-long friends, Oooooo!  He gave us a ride to Salisbury, told us the farmers he'd talked to before we elft had told him to drive us home instead of closer to our goal, and said he was sad he hadn't at least taken us to the beach.  Despite being 62" and 78 years old, it was he who removed my backpack from his boat trunk.  He made us promise to call him if we ever needed ANYTHING, offered numerous rides, got excited for us to get something to eat in Salisbury about half a dozen times, offered us money ("I have a LOT of money"), gave us hugs, told us he loved us and that we were friends for life, and asked us to send a postcard letting him know we're okay.  He waved goodbye multiple times as we walked away.  And when we met him for lunch a week and a half later he told us he almost cried while he was waving.  If all of this sounds a bit much, it wasn't.  You had to be there =0)
Holly and I probably said "Thank you" four dozen times to Gus in the 2 hours we spent with him.  I was giddy with happiness and glowing from ahgning out with Gus.  Holly said he remineded her of Grandma Claire.  And we spoke with him a few times on the phone and visited him again on this very same trip =0)

Day 5

Today we realized Holly's future career as a Travel Agent.  And we sang Funky Butt.  And couchsurfed with Cam and Sabba and Garrett.

Day 6

Pancakes.  10K.  Loud cheering.  Woke up Cam and Sab.  Market Day.  Free shuttle to Kittery.  Man in the market very phased by our trip, walked up to the floor-to-ceiling glass window to look at our stuff and smile and wave at we who were only 2 feet away, on the other side of the glass.  Dave of the fruits and veggies routing us along the ocean.  Dennis of the simple, birdsong filled, water and chips filled life.  Beach party, tuna subs, salt and vinegar chips, pizza crust.  Unidentified previously living blobs of various colors perched throughout the seaweed on the shore.  Met Joe and Baby, who took us to a potential camp site which we did not utilize.

Day 7

29 miles to Portland!  Country jams, road's gettin quieter, granny smith apples.  Stephen and Barbara's kindness playing into our ears.

Day 11 (days 8-10 shall remain forever a mystery to this particular journal)

Napped on a dock at a state park.  Ohhh glorious nap!  Helped a 90 year old man out of his boat.  Walked back toward Christina, where Holly observed Christina's newfound nudity.  "Are our backpacks gone?"   "oh... yeah."  Holly ate an apple, Laura giggled, and we decided to continue walking to Belfast.  On the left a mile up the road ias a barn sale.  Including a $20 once-used four-person tent with waterproof bag, two $4 jackets with hoods (aka sleeping bags), and a $1 "blanket" aka carpet.  And a 16 mile ride to Belfast with aNOTHer David, and John.  They offered to take us to Bar Harbor, but we were already riding too high off of their kindness. 
We have shed our extra layers!
We have gone our extra distance!
We have gained full body chemical suits!
Life is good!
To Acadia!
PS Subway bread by the soggy dozen


Day 14
Some people sit, some people squat, some switch it up, some have their minds blown by the various possibilities.  I still believe that today, which is the equivalent of Day 21, one week later, Holly and I have not tried each other's methods.  Sometimes you stick with what you like.


On the way home we met Gus for lunch at Dunkin Donuts.  There isn't really a way to adequately describe this lunch date, other than that it made me feel like I could live forever.  Gus.  IS.  the man.  And we are very lucky to know him.  Thank you, Gus.  Thank you, Acadia.  Goodnight, Holly.  Goodnight, Laura.  Goodnight, Holly.  Goodnight, Holly.