On the Road with Barry: Maine

Day one

a bright red lobster sits on a white plate on a white table. It is accompanied by corn on the cob and a bowl of potatoes. The lobster has a lemon wedge between each claw. — A bright red plated lobster sits on a white table. It is accompanied by corn on the cob and a bowl of potatoes. The lobster has a lemon wedge between each claw.

I’m on my way to Maine for the second time in my life. I went about 20 years ago to visit an intern when I was teaching at the university. I don’t even remember where I was in Maine, but I remember it was blueberry season and having fresh lobster in Portland the day before I left. I’d never had lobster in the shell before, and it was very obvious to the server, who generously offered to show me how to get it done. It wasn’t pretty, but it sure was worth it. The blueberries were as big as my thumb, too. Now, I live in the self-proclaimed blueberry capital of Texas, the U.S. and probably the world, but blueberries in Maine are right on par with Nacogdoches blueberries. Bigger, too. I’m sure Maine doesn’t tout their blueberries like Nacogdoches does — they do have other things. Like lobster. (And the L.L. Bean headquarters.) I may be too early for blueberries, and L.L. Bean will still be there, but I’m pretty sure there’s a lobster with my name on it.

I flew into Portland, which, looking out the window of the plane, resembles a postcard. It probably is. We took a wide turn out over the ocean and came in from the east. There are so many islands out there, and every one is littered with beautiful homes and every type of boat imaginable. It was a cloudless sky as well, so I could see forever. It was a really picturesque setting. I’ll drive up to Augusta for the week, and work in nearby Pittston.

Day two

Bacon was on the menu at the hotel this morning. It was dreadfully thin and not cooked long enough, but mediocre bacon is better than breakfast sausage any day. And there was what appeared to be real eggs. A pretty good two-fer to start the day.

I’m off to Angela’s home outside of Pittston. I drove across the Kennebec River and then drove along it for about 15 minutes. Bacon, eggs and a pretty river close to me: I’m three for three.

Angela lives outside of Pittston on a beautiful piece of property. I’m greeted by Angela and two very energetic dogs. As we sat together and got to know each other, the family cat pawed me in an effort to get me to brush her. I guess the story about me cramming medicine down my cat’s throat all those years ago hasn’t made it to cats in Maine. All the cats I come in contact with in Texas can feel the vibe. It’s my belief that all the cats since have passed down the story that I’m the guy who’ll stick his finger down your throat in order to give you a pill. I’ve been a marked man for years.

A woman uses her white cane while walking beside a four-story, granite state capital building with a large dome on top. — Angela uses her white cane while walking beside the state capital building in Augusta, which is a four-story, granite building with a large dome on top.

A woman uses her white cane to navigate a stairwell inside a stone building. She is wearing a black and pink outfit and is smiling widely. — Angela uses her white cane to navigate a stairwell inside the capital building. She is wearing a black and pink outfit and is smiling widely.

Angela and I head back into Augusta to work at her local hospital, where she often has appointments. It’s a wonderful training environment, with stairs, texture changes, lighting changes, crowds and a large parking lot. If you’ve read this blog before, you know my sermon on parking lots, but Angela got to hear it fresh for the first time. Parking lots are evil places, and you have to have your head on a swivel all the time. That’s true everywhere you’re around traffic these days. Drivers are paying less and less attention. I see it all the time, being out on the street as much as I am. Everyone, it seems, has a phone in their hand. It’s so dangerous, and dadgummed irresponsible.

We finished out the day at the local arboretum that Angela loves to visit. She has great memories, before her vision loss, of coming here with her family. While on our tour, Angela shared with me about brown-tailed moths and the maddening rash they can leave you with, and about the deer ticks. And we got temporarily disoriented. (Not lost. I’m an orientation and mobility (O&M) instructor, for pity’s sake.) I was operating with a sub-par map, it was hot, all while trying to stave off the moths and the ticks. I was concerned about rationing our water at one point, and started looking for edible plants. All those people on those survival shows who think they can survive on plants are always the first ones to get sick and leave the show, all because they didn’t know the difference between edible and non-edible plants nearly as well as they thought. I don’t stand a chance. Luckily, the roof of the office came into view before we cast lots for who ate whom first.

Because of all the extra walking we did on our Donner Pass escapade, Angela’s blood sugar dropped to a lower level than it should be, so we stopped for ice cream. Bacon to start, ice cream to finish. Pretty good day.

Day three

There were sweet potato tots for breakfast this morning. I did not recognize them as such, but I learned when I asked the lady in line next to me. She added that they were good, and better with syrup. I’m not a sweet and savory guy. Not together, at least. Potato pancakes have always seemed like a disappointment to me. Chicken and waffles are big right now, and I’m not a fan. At Waffle House, I always have my waffle made AFTER my bacon, eggs and grits. Not at the same time. All that to say, I enjoyed my sweet potatoes, sans syrup.

A woman uses her white cane to navigate stairs outdoors. She is wearing a t-shirt and a long skirt. — Angela uses her white cane to navigate stairs outdoors. She is wearing a t-shirt and a long skirt.

Angela and I headed to Freeport today, home of L.L. Bean. For those of you who may not know, L.L. Bean is an outdoor outfitter that started back in the 1800s over a drug store, and their headquarters are in the middle of the shopping district in Freeport. Another excellent training environment, as Freeport and Bean are major tourist destinations, so there’s a ton of pedestrian traffic. There are also narrow sidewalks, large parking lots, and two-way traffic on narrow streets (most of the drivers on their phones, by the way). We navigated the evil parking lot to get into the main Bean store, which Angela thought she knew well. Renovations within and without have changed the store enough to confuse her a bit. O&M is everything, and everything is O&M. Orientation happens every time you make a turn, or cross a street, or go up or down stairs. Angela had to work to find the quilt she wanted for her son’s bed by navigating really heavy crowds, stairs, street crossings, traffic and a lot of other obstacles. O&M is everything, and everything is O&M. Even shopping for a quilt. While in the Bean outlet store, I met a man whose good friend used to live in my hometown of Big Spring, Texas. Almost everywhere I go, I meet someone with a connection to west Texas. The world is big, but not so big…

We left Freeport for a barbeque place Angela likes, but I had to quiz her about barbeque. I know some folks in New Jersey who think barbeque is eating outside. I asked her if we were eating barbeque or having a barbeque. There’s a big difference. Assured that we were going to eat quality smoked meats, we continued. Unfortunately, the restaurant was closed, so we had to re-focus. We found a great seafood place right on the water, but they don’t take plastic. Because Angela’s blood sugar was dropping again, we settled for McDonald’s. Well, SHE settled while I abstained. She made a joke about settling for a Big Mac and finding a great place that was actually open soon after. Her joke became not so funny when we found an apple orchard with a restaurant attached. I had a crab roll and a couple of apple cider doughnuts. Not too shabby.

Day four

Nothing resembling real food was on the hotel menu today, so I settled for the yogurt and cottage cheese I bought when I got here. And I found my favorite Scottish breakfast tea, so I’ll be just fine. Angela and I were headed to Gardiner, a lovely little town just across the Kennebec River from Pittston. Angela shops here, her post office is here, and her favorite restaurant is here. Shopping, post office, restaurant: O&M is everything, and everything is O&M. The streets are narrow, the intersections are not square, and the area is really crowded. An excellent training opportunity. After the post office and a trip to the park along the riverside, we ate at Bintliff’s, and it was the best omelet I had ever had. While ordering, I saw some of the bacon that was going to be included in my omelet, and it was the thickest thick-cut bacon I’ve ever seen. Not wanting to get cheated by having THAT bacon all chopped up in my omelet, I ordered a side of bacon. Now, I’m a good eater, but I could not finish all the bacon, so I had the best bacon sandwich ever for my dinner later on. Bintliff’s was one of the few places I’d eat at multiple times during a trip. I like to branch out, but I would have been fine with the Fireman’s omelet for the duration of my stay. I also had the most luxurious hot chai tea there. So good. I highly recommend it. Gardiner, Maine. Bintliff’s. Fireman’s omelet. Hot chai. Dadgum…

A woman laughs as she uses her white cane to walk along a stone path. She is wearing all black and is surrounded by flora and fauna. — Angela laughs as she uses her white cane to walk along a stone path. She is wearing all black and is surrounded by flora and fauna.

Day five

Scottish breakfast tea for the win again this morning. The hotel tried something different with their “eggs,” so it was yogurt and cottage cheese and that lovely tea again. I wonder what actual Scots would think of my tea?

I met Angela at her gym this morning, and I got to witness her training for jujitsu with her trainer and her son doing some tai chi. I felt a little awkward just watching others work out. I guess I could have stretched or done some curls or something useful, but mostly I just watched others improve themselves. Angela met her trainer in stroke recovery. He volunteered to train her, having had a stroke himself. This guy is the picture of health and fitness, and if he had a stroke, I mean, I’m doomed. Wow.

After the workout, we went to a beautiful bakery where Angela bought some goods to munch on and keep her blood sugar at a manageable level. Changes in schedules and activity levels can really do a number on your blood sugar, and she keeps close watch on it. She has basically a probe on the back of her arm that regularly checks her levels and sends a message to her phone when things get out of bounds. Knowing this, I’ve been asking her to check even more often, which she does, but it’s almost like Minecraft for me. It’s a video game-style high: “What’s your sugar now, Angela?” Instant gratification.

After the bakery, we headed to the YMCA in Augusta, where Angela works out. (Yes, I can hear you singing the song in the background. You know you did it. I did too.) She wanted to check on the pool schedule for the rest of the summer because she swims and does water yoga. After that, and just down the road, is the capitol complex. There’s a museum on the grounds there that Angela likes to visit. Unfortunately, the museum was under renovation, so we headed across the parking lot to the actual capitol building to see if we could get an audience with the governor. We found out quickly that she’s not in, but we took a tour anyway. (O&M is everything…) Four floors, the Senate and the Congressional chambers, some fine rocking chairs, and a cool breeze on the patio overlooking the grounds later, we were done with the capitol. All the granite in the building came from nearby Gardiner, and if Bintliff’s had been open when that was happening, I guarantee they wouldn’t have gotten any work done at all. Everyone would have been taking a nap. From the capitol, we headed to Angela’s grocery store for a lesson on shopping and more evil parking lots. We got some lobster rolls from the deli and had lunch with Angela’s mom back in Pittston. She’s had some health problems, and Angela wanted to check on her. I don’t know what lobster rolls are supposed to taste like, but I enjoyed mine, as did the Mainers. Locals call themselves “Mainers,” although you have to work hard to hear any “r’s” in that or any other word with the letter “r” at the end. “Lobstah” is how it sounds coming out of a Mainah’s mouth. Anyway, Mom was doing okay, and we headed home again, but by a different route, as there’s a local farm that has a store in which Angela thinks they might have a special soda in a bottle that I “just have to try.” And she’s always telling me that she has to be there when I do. When she asks her friends where they can find Moxie, they all squinch their noses and ask “why?” My superior detection skills tell me that Moxie is not pleasant. But it’s still being sold, so it can’t be all bad, right? At the store, we found Moxie and a beautiful piece of blueberry pie that’s bigger than my head. For those of you who don’t know me, this is quite a statement. I tried the Moxie in the parking lot, and Angela filmed me during the process. It’s not bad at all. She seemed very disappointed. All the reviews and the Mainahs say that it tastes like Pepto Bismol. It didn’t taste like Pepto to me, but I like the taste of Pepto, so maybe it canceled out? I don’t know, but it was not nearly as unpleasant for me as everyone expected it to be. I had my blueberry pie and a nice cup of Scottish tea for dinner tonight.

Day six

A woman uses her white cane as she walks across a wooden bridge. She is wearing a t-shirt and long skirt and is smiling widely. — Angela uses her white cane as she walks across a wooden bridge. She is wearing a t-shirt and long skirt and is smiling widely.

We’re headed to Boothbay to go to another arboretum and to visit Angela’s uncle and aunt who live on the actual bay. The arboretum is always a nice place and a challenging travel environment. No straight lines, lots of crowds, and it can be very easy to lose your orientation. The aunt and uncle’s home is another postcard moment. Super nice folks who spend their time between Boothbay, Boston, and Dubai. We went to downtown Boothbay for lunch, and I got my lobstah. The first one in 20 years. Angela’s uncle volunteered to remind me how to get into the shell and get all the meat. He really enjoyed teaching me. He would visit Angela in between getting me into different parts of the shellfish. At one point, I sprayed lobster juice all over everyone but myself. They gave me a bib for this very reason, but I apparently had the lobster pointed down range and survived the juicing. Undeterred by the mess, I followed my superior coaching, and, as the Mainahs say, “destroyed” my lobster. It was fantastic. After lunch, Angela and I did some Juno work, which is walking with an empty harness to help evaluate dog guide readiness. It does look a little strange, I’m sure the curious onlookers, but Angela did really well with this. It’s a big transition, going from having the cane in your hand to walking freely without it, but she handled it great.

I took Angela home after this, and I headed back to Portland for a hotel stay closer to the airport. It’s been a long week, but a good one, and heading home is always a good thing.

Day seven

If you’ve read this blog before, I usually don’t write about my travel home. (This is called foreshadowing. I’ve done it in this article before. You should know something is coming.) My flight out of Portland was delayed to the point where I wasn’t going to make my connection in Newark. Apparently, something was wrong with the windshield on the plane. That’s a pretty big deal. With delays looming, I bought jerky and trail mix just to be prepared (see earlier Donner Pass reference). I definitely missed my connection in Newark, but I was booked on a later flight to Atlanta, then to Houston. Surely, all will go as planned, right? I got to Atlanta on time, but upon deplaning, I found out that there had already been at least 75 flights cancelled due to weather. If you fly at all, you know that once they start cancelling flights, there’s a severe domino effect all over the country. Also, “due to weather” is a key phrase. If the flight is cancelled due to weather, no hotel provisions are made for you. I was already late to the ballgame, so by the time I knew I was gonna be there overnight, there was not a hotel room to be had. I did get a meal voucher, but the airline had run out of pillows and blankets. In Atlanta, at every gate, there’s a section of chairs that do not have armrests, and I think I found the last one available. And on this section rested a brand new blanket, completely unused. How about that? So with my blankie and my jerky and my trail mix, I settled in for a long winter’s nap. My flight the next morning got delayed about four times and changed gates and terminals at least three times. The meal voucher was not accepted anywhere I tried all morning except at the convenience store-type places, so more jerky and trail mix for me. The worst part of all this delay was that my toothbrush and toothpaste were in my checked baggage somewhere in the bowels of some plane, somewhere. I found plenty of toothbrushes in the stores in the terminals, but no toothpaste! What’s up with that?

Finally, on my flight, I got bumped up to first class. I don’t know why, but I certainly didn’t argue. I sat next to a young lady from Houston who flew in just to see a Beyonce concert. She’s no Lyle Lovett, but I hear she puts on a pretty good show. I watched “Jaws” on my way back. This is the 50th year since “Jaws” has been out, and the story was based in Maine. A little more Maine in my life on the way home. We landed and got almost to the gate when a huge, fast-moving storm hit Houston. They called in all the ground crew to keep them safe while we sat on the tarmac. The plane was rocking with the storm, and people were upset, but I got to finish my movie.

Written by Barry Stafford, certified orientation and mobility specialist (COMS)