Stowe to Bar Harbor

Easter morning in Stowe.  It rained overnight, and the gentle little stream out back that flowed under the covered bridge was a raging torrent this morning.  I was glad that I had thought to rescue a football-sized rounded rock yesterday, destined for a rock wall somewhere on our property.  On our Mini trip  to California last summer, I returned home with three rocks which I had been able to improbably lodge in the corners of our tiny "boot" - one from the Pacific, one bright-red one from Sedona, and one from the Petrified Forest.  Consider it a little unusual; an amateur rock mason likes to collect rocks.

For 62 years, the Stowe Community Church has held an Easter Sunrise Service on top of Mount Mansfield; worshipers ride the big gondola to the summit.

There were dogs and babies and lots and lots of skis stuck in the snow, because at the conclusion of the service, many of the downhill-skiing Stowe locals like to ski down the mountain.  What a way to celebrate the Resurrection and the Joy!

We had planned to worship in the tall white ca. 1839 Stowe Community Church this morning, but the 6:00 a.m. sunrise service was a good way to celebrate, so we got an early start - a very early start - on the next leg of our journey.

We drove through gorgeous Vermont scenery, which still had plenty of snow, big blankets of it sharing the hillsides with solar panels.  And mud, lots of mud, everywhere, steaming in the morning light.  Martha spotted a little girl in a pretty dress out in her yard hunting Easter eggs, which were just lying in the grass in plain sight.

Sap was being collected from these sugar maples - we spotted the pails right by the side of the road, and also what we thought might be sugar shacks.

Each little town in this part of Vermont was filled with these beautiful old homes, many of them now operated as gracious inns, and still well-maintained.

The two-lane roads were a delight to drive after that bout of interstate driving around Toronto.  Each little township and turn in the road revealed a new and unexpected surprise.

We spotted this unusual covered bridge - the Fisher Bridge, in Wolcott, VT, spanning the LaMoille River.  It is one of the last of the railroad covered bridges in the country, ca. 1908, is still in use, and has an unusual full-length cupola.

Lunch at the little White Mountain Cafe, and it looked like the only place around for miles and miles on this Easter Sunday.  Ski-barred windows and simple but delicious sandwiches.

Inside, on the wall, they had a Good Karma Board that is put to good use.  This area is frequented by many hikers, some of them through-hiking the Appalachian Trail, and many of them want to "pay it forward."  What a generous thing to do!

Then we crossed the river into New Hampshire, into the White Mountains.  We tried to remember what this state was known for other than the Presidential primaries, and I remembered from my high school geology that it was "The Granite State."  Granite seemed to be in plenteous supply, and there were forests and campgrounds and hiking trails everywhere, along with the "Live Free or Die" motto on all the license plates.  That's a pretty harrowing choice to make, but one with which I can surely identify.

In no time we were in Maine, with its unexpected swamps and bogs.  And these signs were all along the road, although we never saw a single one (but really wanted to).

The temperature had been rising all day, and it finally climbed to a surprising 75 degrees.  And yet there were still big frozen lakes covered with slushy ice.  I suppose it takes them a long time to melt, insulated from the radiant heat of the earth by those cold waters.  Winter was not that long ago!

Finally we arrived in Bar Harbor, with its countless large, wealthy homes clustered around Frenchman Bay, and our little inn for the next two nights, the Atlantic Oceanside.
 

What a beautiful view from the balcony!

We found a menu of small plates at the Side Street Cafe on a quaint alley in Bar Harbor.  Another long day!