07/22/05: Homeward: Out of New Brunswick and into Maine
We got out of the B&B, got 20 liters of gas at $0.999/liter (about USD$3.30/gal) and hit the TransCanada Highway (Maple Leaf 1). We stopped for lunch in Fredericton, the capital of New Brunswick. I sat in the grassy square and did email while Karen watched a comedy troupe performing. We then had lunch at "The Snooty Fox": Guinness Steak Pie and fried clams and chips.
Harvey's Family Farm along the Trans-Canada Highway (Maple Leaf 1). The big potato was erected in 1969
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Frederickton, NB, the Provincial Capital, has noontime performances as well as WiFi in the city park
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I've always liked bridges to nowhere. This pedestrian bridge over the TCH/ML1 leads to a path to a lighthouse. These bridge pilings once held a traffic-way into town.
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Another view of the formerly used bridge pilings. (Okay, I like the clouds)
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We walked around a bit before jumping back on the road. We stopped for occasional roadside attractions.
If you say Mactaquac often enough, it still seems funny.
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The Mactaquac hydroelectric dam. I couldn't find a single position that let me take a picture that shows how impressive this whole facility really is. Yes, I've toured the Hoover Dam, among others.
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By 4, we thought we needed to find a place to stay. Bangor Maine seemed likely, but it was booked up or too crappy ("One room, smoking, broken air conditioner, $75").
We called around a bit (It's good to have cell service, again!) but had no luck. The Visitor's Center in Maine was still closed due to the heat emergency. So, we left the interstate to try te old highways. We drove through some pretty countryside, but all the motels had little No Vacancy signs posted on the office doors as dusk gathered and it started to rain. We pulled into one motel that had a lit "Vacancy" sign. I noticed that most of the room doors were boarded up, and (I swear) Larry, his brother Darrel, and his other brother Darrel were sitting out front of the office/bar with beers in their hands. We didn't actually stop rolling.
We finally found a room at The Chalet in Lewiston. I was tired, grumpy, and sore. The room was at the end of a hot, smoky hallway. The room itself was clean and large, but had a "due to be rehabbed in 1990" feel to it. Karen found the family-owned and operated place charming.