October 2 - “Moose Hunt”

This hotel was another of those we were glad to be leaving. The room smelled funny. We had to carry our luggage because they only had two carts for a full hotel. It just looked like it had its glory days, but they happened long, long ago. But here’s the thing. It was literally the only thing available. All the hotels are full with people looking for dead red leaves on trees.

 

We met a couple from Kansas in the elevator.  They felt like they had come a long way until they heard where we were from.  They weren’t very pleased with the hotel, either. One of the most fun parts about a trip like this - for me, anyway - is meeting people from all over the world. We took a picture for some ladies from Germany and for a couple from England. Not to mention the folks we have met from all over the U.S. 

 

Our initial objective for the day?  Moose hunt!  We traveled two hours farther north to a national park up there. Supposedly, as the vivacious park Ranger told us, “People see moose there every day.”  Gotta love it when a person, especially a park Ranger assigned to an obscure outpost, is really enthusiastic about her job.

 

We followed her directions that led us down a dark and dreary, well-traveled road. No, really. It was dark.  And the sand mixed with gravel mixed with some pretty large stones made for a somewhat paved road.  Until it didn’t. The one lane road became what it was truly intended to be - a logging trail. It was over the river and through the woods for real. I was feeling more understanding toward poor Little Red Riding Hood. Chris was listening for banjo music again. Sadly, we saw no mooses. Not that I was surprised. You see, this just proves further that mooses are not real.

 

We did see some wildlife on the way back out and headed south. A beautiful mink run across the road right in front of us. Pitch black fur with a gorgeous long tail. I can see why they make great, warm coats. Chris looked it up, and they are found in that area. Of course they are. We just saw one. We also saw a horse. I know. Doesn’t sound so unusual. But this guy was pulling one of those Amish buggies behind him. We have been seeing warning signs to share the road with them. We did.

 

We split up the two-hour drive back into civilization. I went first, since I was already the designated National Park driver and mythical moose hunter. Chris took over when the Sleepies got the best of me. She drove to the St. Croix visitor center, which for some unknown reason, was temporarily closed. The site was open, though. Chris got her park stamp.  We did the little hike, and I stuck my fingers in the waters of whatever bay that was that touches the Atlantic Ocean. Then we made a quick Walmart run for some more cheese and peanut butter crackers (often our lunch on busy days).  And then we were off to our evening hotel stay in Bar Harbor, Maine.

 

And staying on the coast in Maine meant one thing. Food. Chris had her bowl of clam chowder. I had a lobster roll. We shared a crab cake. Best dinner yet.

 

Philippians 4:8 says, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

 

Father, thank you for the excitement that park Ranger exuded. It was refreshing. Amen.