Loving Maine ... a lifelong love affair

Over 40 years ago I began a love affair. It's not illicit nor the kind that leaves you heartbroken, well okay, sometimes I AM heartbroken ... when I have to leave Maine.

Yes, my love affair is with God's country – the state of Maine.

My parents first took me there in the early 1970s, where we rented a small cottage on Rangeley Lake in the northwestern part of the state. One look at the pristine lake, the mountains surrounding it, and I was hooked.

My brother lived in Rangeley at the time and so we had a personal connection to Maine. We returned several times over the years until I graduated high school and was out on my own. Nevertheless, the summers we went to Rangeley fill my memory bank with warm, fuzzy family times that are simply unforgettable.

My sister and I went canoeing all over the lake and up many of the streams, panicking once when a moose stomped into a clearing near the small stream we were on. Imagine two city girls trying to turn a canoe around in a shallow, narrow stream instead of just the one in the back reversing her seat and canoeing out the way we came in?

Then there was the time my brother took us out in his small sailboat, entertaining us with his tall tales of the giant frog who inhabited the lake – occasionally shouting at one of us to "DUCK!" when the sail came about. He howled with laughter all the way into town that day.

At night my mother, myself and my sister would climb into the car and drive to the dump on the other side of the lake because we had heard you could see bears up close and personal after midnight when they came with their cubs to feed.

I know I get my penchant for picture taking from my mother since my best memory is of her hanging out the car window, her old Kodak camera dangling from her wrist as she angled for a shot of Mama Bear as she climbed around the dump looking for food. (I would have done the same)

Suddenly, however, Mama Bear noticed my mother and headed for our car. I sat in the backseat doubled over with laughter as my sister frantically tried to activate the power windows to shut them before Mama Bear got to the car, while capturing my mother right in the window as it closed.

Needless to say, Mom was fine and Mama Bear got scared off when another car pulled into the dump. It was a regular night out at the movies, sans movie screen.

There were visits to the Height of the Land, where the views of Mooselookmeguntic Lake are stunning. And day trips to Eustis Ridge near the Canadian border for lunch and plenty of drooling over virgin forests with towering pines, pristine lakes and plenty of wildlife.

I loved Rangeley so much that I returned there in 1978 to open a bookstore with my former husband. We only stayed just under a year, however. Rangeley in the late 1970s was not the place to establish a year-round business. Wish we had thought of opening a coffee shop in addition to the books – we would have cornered that market for sure.

Years later, newly divorced and living in Portland, I met my future husband – a certified Maine-iac native and my love affair with Maine would continue and flourish through his eyes and memories.

A view of Portland's Munjoy Hill (to the right is the Eastern
Promenade) from Casco Bay. My husband was lucky enough
to be raised right there on the "Hill." (Photo by Liz Johnson,
Jolly Hill)

We eventually followed our jobs and moved to Massachusetts and then New Hampshire, where we enjoyed 18 years of living elsewhere in New England. We learned to appreciate life where it is cold more than it's warm throughout the year. We spent many a summer at Hampton or Rye Beach along the NH coast, walking the beach, enjoying the views. Or, we'd head inland for a day spent lazing around on a sandy beach by one of New Hampshire's beautiful glacier lakes.

Often we would enjoy a gorgeous summer day by rising early and driving up to the most beautiful drive in the world – the Kancamagus Highway. The Kancamagus is a 34 mile scenic drive through the White Mountains, where streams, mountains and wildlife abound. You can stop and hangout for the day pretty much anywhere you want, surrounded by the rushing water of a mountain stream, the lulling sound of wind through the towering pine trees and know you've enjoyed nature at its fullest.

As always, the autumn season is one of the best times in New England, where leaf peeping is the past-time for everyone who has breath in their body. The plethora of oranges, reds, and yellow leaves are stunningly beautiful.

After moving to Missouri to take care of my family, we certainly missed New England, most especially – Maine. My husband, humble man that he is – left behind his children, his mother, his brothers and cousins to help me care for my father and sister.

We've had occasional visits back home that left us longing for more of Maine.

One week is just not enough. One week of staying on the ocean, hearing the soothing sounds of the waves crashing on the beach is not enough. One week of watching sailboats, lobstermen and tour boats circle the harbor is not enough. One week of seeing family is not enough. One week of eating your fill of lobster, cod, haddock, clams and scallops is not enough. One week of savoring the pungent smell of the marshes, the coves at low tide, is not enough. One week of hearing the natives (or your own family) say "watah, buttah, and come over heah," is not enough.

One week of hugs from the family is not enough.

This year we made two trips back to Maine and that has made us long for home just a little bit more this time, but left us satisfied and filled with sun-charged, sea-charged and family-charged memories.

Every night we fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach, since finding a new spot to stay that was reasonable on their rates, clean and "YES!" faced the ocean.

Every morning we awoke to a gorgeous sunrise, rising to catch the sun as it lit up the sky with dark reds and yellows prior to rising over the horizon – then setting the horizon on fire as it poked it's first sliver of light over the water.

The sun peeks over the horizon while the low clouds look
to be on fire during a sunrise while we were in Maine this year.
(Photo by Liz Johnson, Jolly Hill)

Every day dawned to a perfect temperature – not too cold and not too warm – so that we could sit out on the patio and simply enjoy watching the waves crash upon the beach. That is how one can really be still and listen to God without distractions.

Trees were just beginning to turn, so we sadly missed the full effect of fall foliage – but we have memory banks full of those images from past years.

An afternoon spent on a cruise around Casco Bay (Portland's harbor) fulfilled a bucket list item for me as I shot over 600 photos of the coastline, light houses, birds, forts and islands – finally seeing the city of Portland from the ocean – a stunning view for anyone.

And the food ... Oh the food! When you grew up near the waterfront as my husband did, you feast on fresh seafood all year long, so when you move away from that offering, you really miss it.

We ate our fill from sampling lobster rolls at a number of establishments (Ken's Seafood at Pine Point won hands down), to scallops – fried and broiled with seafood stuffing (Becky's on Commercial Street in Portland – to-die-for broiled scallops, and you MUST have their melt-in-your-mouth Lemon Lush for dessert), to clam chowder (Jay's Oyster Bar on the waterfront), to breakfast at Old Orchard Beach.

Yes, I said breakfast. A few years ago we discovered this little restaurant off the main street in Old Orchard Beach called Beach Bagels. It's tiny, with very limited, tight seating inside, but plenty of canopied tables and chairs outside. The staff is friendly and treats everyone – tourist or native – like they eat there every day.

They offer a huge quantity of flavorful Green Mountain coffees, bagels, pastries and other breakfast items – the egg white breakfast sandwich with cheddar and tomato on whole grain bread is healthy and will stick to your ribs. Everything is served up by one of the twin brothers who do the cooking (and may own the joint for all I know).

Meanwhile, you can hang outside sipping on your coffee, enjoying the fresh ocean breeze, while listening to some of the best tunes around pumped out to the parking lot speakers.

It's a great way to start your day and beats the heck out of Dunkin' Donuts who rolls up their OOB sidewalks in the middle of September, never has enough staff on hand to handle the rush and is not friendly. Though I have to admit, one of our favorite draws to Maine IS being able to enjoy a few cups of iced Dunkin's coffee – elsewhere in Maine.

This year we made friends with the folks who owned our hotel and discovered they also imported olives from Greece, make their own olive oil and sell it at their store (Lakonia's - on Route 1 in Saco). Made fresh with impeccable standards, anyone who loves olives, olive oil and Greek food, will want to visit Lakonia. We know that next year we'll be stocking our room with goodies from the store.

Someday if we win the lottery we will retire to the beach in Maine. One can always pray for that abundance. Meanwhile, we are content to come east a few times a year and enjoy the relaxing life that beach living affords you.

I can't think of a better way to de-stress and start your day than to rise with the sun, throw on some sweats, a pair of old sneakers and hit the beach for a long walk. It's healthy, invigorating and I swear it will add years to your life.

My love affair with Maine is a life-long romance. Maine keeps giving and I keep enjoying. What's heartbreaking is when we leave to come home.

Sadness pervades when we cross the Piscataqua River Bridge back into New Hampshire and head for the airport. We stare at the receding pine trees as the plane rises off the runway, look at each other and say, "next year, a longer visit!"