Thursday morning in Maine. We’re about 15 miles outside Acadia National Park at a horrifyingly 1960’s hotel. (It has a kitchenette, and my feet stick to the floor when I walk through it.) We were going to camp last night, but that plan changed when we got into the area around 11:00 and Lisa saw rain on the windshield.

Wednesday was pretty cool. We left the Super 8 we crashed at near Bangor and headed north to Baxter State Park. The drive up the I-95 was stupefyingly boring–kind of like central, wooded Minnesota, only the trees were a bit different–but the park was more than worth the trip. We went on a couple of short hikes and drives spanning most of the afternoon and early evening, and left as night fell. We saw some great scenery along the way, and Lisa got a 40-foot encounter with a moose. (That encounter was received much better than the one with a bear a few days ago.)

The story of the park sounds quite interesting–it sound sounds like it was pretty much forced into existence by one man, Percival Baxter–so I’ll have to do some more reading on it when I get some time.

Well, I’m going to make use of the shower so we can get out of here. We have a full day ahead at Acadia, with camping at one of the park’s campgrounds.

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The next entry may very well be from Boston. I guess our trip is starting to wind down. (Crap, and I’ve actually managed to not think about work for a week.)

More later.