Bar Harbor and Beyond

Amazing scenery and adventure awaits just steps from your door in Bar Harbor, Maine.  From a land bridge that disappears at high tide to rough sea adventures searching for elusive east coast whales — there is plenty to experience in this quaint seaside town.

My wife Carrie and I had a few days off during the second week of June 2012.  We hopped in our Jetta TDI with bikes on the back and drove north from Strasburg, PA.  Google puts Bar Harbor 633 miles away.  Our drive time of 12 hours including a nap, allowed us to arrive just in time for breakfast at Trailhead Cafe.

We arrived at the door of a lovely bed and breakfast called Manor House Inn.  The proprietor was delightful, and we quickly dropped our bags in our room and set off to explore the area.

There are plenty of restaurants in town, but our favorite after a few days was the Finback Ale House.  I was a glutton for the lobster roll.  One evening we went on a date to watch improv, had great laughs and met wonderful people visiting the area.

We noticed people walking to an island via a long sand bar.  After asking a few people, who were snapping photos, about the sand bar we learned it led to Bar Island.  This is part of the larger Acadia National Park surrounding Bar Harbor.  We set off to experience it for ourselves and were not disappointed.

Our next adventure led us to a whale watching cruise.  In the immortal words of George Costanza, “The sea was angry that day my friends, like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli.”  The ruckus began with a few passengers running for the bathrooms in the aft (back) of the boat.  Carrie and I had seated ourselves in two of the ten seats along the aft, starboard (right) side of the boat, just as google instructed.  Google failed to mention the smells and sounds of upchucking passengers in the head (bathroom) adjacent to our seats.  Not delightful!

The ship heaved!  A woman carrying a baby in her arms ran to the rear of the ship.  She narrowly avoided falling overboard as she dodged the vomit of frantic passengers.  The wind shifted, as the regurgitated lobster rolls were spewed into the salty sea air in a chunky mist.  I dove on top of my wife, pushing her and the other passengers in our row out of the way.

We saw no whales on that trip.  Mothers cried, daughters clung to their fathers, and sons held on for dear life.  Skip this trip — unless you want an adventure worth writing about!