On our recent visit to the Edgar M. Tennis Preserve on Deer Isle, Russell, Betty and I not only had our first exposure to the tremendous scenic beauty found on the Preserve, but I also had my first exposure to the world of letterboxing.
Letterboxing, according to the Urban Dictionary, is an interesting combination of hiking, orienteering, travel, and sharing adventure with fellow hikers. The goal in the letterboxing world is to find waterproof letterboxes that are kept in scenic places like the Tennis Preserve — some of which are harder to find than others. When you find the letterbox, you’re supposed to leave a message, stamp the message book in the letterbox, and also stamp your own letterboxing book so you can keep a record of all the letterboxes you’ve visited. Not being aware of the world of letterboxing, or that the Tennis Preserve had a letterbox, I didn’t have a letterboxing book with me when we came across the Tennis Preserve letterbox, so I couldn’t stamp my own book. We did, however, leave a message and used the cool shell stamp to record our visit to the letterbox. Fortunately for us, the Tennis letterbox wasn’t hard to find, either.
It was fun to thumb through the Tennis Preserve letterbox notebook to see how had visited — we were surprised to learn that somebody had been there before us on the day of our visit, even though we were hiking early in the morning — and I think letterboxing would be an enjoyable, and very healthy, hobby. Any pastime that gets you out of the indoor world and into the fresh air in places like the Tennis Preserve has got to be beneficial, both physically and mentally. And the stamps are pretty cool, too.
This week Russell, Betty, and I took a hike on the Edgar Tennis Preserve — one of the nicest trails in Stonington. You can walk on the rim of the peninsula, getting a chance to explore the shoreline and some of the tidal areas, or choose one of the trails the cross the peninsula and take you inland through piney forest and meadow.
Whichever way you go, you’ll enjoy lots of fresh air, some beautiful views, interesting colors — particularly at low tide, as it was when we visited — and exposure to some of the diverse ecosystems found on Deer Isle. There are lots of good hikes on Deer Isle, and the Tennis Preserve is one of the best.
The view tonight from the deck of Acadia House Provisions. A spectacular view to go with a spectacular meal.
One of the great things about Stonington, Maine is that it’s far off the beaten path. So far, in fact, that it’s totally franchise-free. You won’t find a McDonald’s or a Starbucks here. In fact, you’d have to drive dozens of miles into the mainland before you hit your first franchise fast food restaurant or coffee shop.
Located at the tip of Deer Isle, out in the middle of Penobscot Bay, Stonington is just too small and too remote for the big franchise chains. That means if you’ve got to start your day with some kind of Starbucks brand caramel-topped pumpkin spice latte grande, this just isn’t the place for you. (It also means that you won’t find a discarded Starbucks coffee cup or a McDonald’s wrapper around town, either.)
That doesn’t mean that Stonington lacks for coffee or the other amenities of modern life. Instead, locally owned businesses have filled the niche that would otherwise be filled by the big chains. There’s a great coffee shop called 44 North where you can get your java fix, and there are really good restaurants, ranging from the classic home-cooked offerings offered at the Harbor Cafe (pictured above, where the haddock chowder is addictive and you have to save room for dessert) and Stonecutters Kitchen and the Fin and Fern to the more high-end fare found at Acadia House Provisions and Aragosta. The other businesses in town are locally owned, too — and some of them are employee-owned co-ops.
The local ownership adds a certain indefinable quality to the buying experience. There are signs around the island noting that buying from local businesses means local jobs, and that’s clearly the case. It actually makes you want to shop at the local options and support the local economy, in a way that just doesn’t apply to stopping at a national chain operation.
It’s all a pretty old school approach. There’s nothing wrong with the big companies and their franchises, of course, but it’s nice to be reminded of what America was like before large-scale national brands took hold and unique local businesses lined the sidewalks along Main Street.
When you’re killing time during a long layover in an airport, and a Hudson News is the only non-fast food place to visit, you tend to check out the magazine rack. So, what does the generic airport magazine rack tell you?
First, it tells you that magazines aren’t exactly thriving. The current magazine rack is pretty shrimpy by comparison to the full wall of magazines you found in the old days. Airport book options are shrinking, too.
Second, it suggests that modern Americans aren’t all that interested in serious reading. Once you go past The Economist, you’ve pretty much exhausted the serious reading category. Time and Newsweek have become the print equivalent of clickbait and don’t even try to present themselves as serious journalism. The rest of the shelves are devoted to the celebrity culture and the Royals — which is pretty much the same thing. How many interviews with, say, Taylor Swift is a person going to read?
And third, has any celebrity couple been the subject of a longer run in the romantic speculation/break-up/make-up category than Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt? Didn’t they first hit the gossip rags more than 20 years ago? And yet here they are, the subject of rumor and speculation and disclosures by purported insiders. In the history of American popular culture, is there any other couple that has had greater tittle-tattle staying power than these two?
I’ve enjoyed spending some time in Boise, Idaho, over the last few months. It reminds me of Columbus in some ways — it’s a growing town with a good foodie scene and a significant college vibe, thanks to Boise State University — but of course it’s different in come ways, too. One difference in the overall vibe is the foothills (in flat Columbus, we’d call them mountains) that are found very close to the downtown area.
We decided to hike up Camelback, which is only a few blocks from the core downtown area, up 8th Street through a very cool neighborhood. Once you reach the trail head, you can walk straight up to the Camelback overlook, or vie with the mountain bikers, horseback riders, joggers, and dogwalkers on one of the main trails that fan out into the area. We took one of the trails first, heading out into the sagebrush and arid scenery, then ended the excursion with the cool Camelback overlook and its nice view of downtown Boise and the Idaho Statehouse dome.
It’s amazing what a little elevation near downtown can do for you. Of course, I’m not sure that many downtown officeworkers hike up dusty Camelback on their lunch hours.
Yesterday I had a plane flight that involved a very tight connection in Minneapolis-St. Paul. The B.A. Jersey Girl and I made it, thanks to some speed-walking on the rolling lanes and light jogging through an underground tunnel, but unfortunately our bags didn’t. Instead, they got routed to Detroit, for some reason, and were supposed to make it to Columbus late last night.
So now, I’m in the delayed luggage delivery waiting zone.
When we found out at the Columbus airport that the luggage wouldn’t make it to town until much later, we had a choice: either have the bags delivered last night, or this morning. I figured there was no way I wanted to wait up for a delivery that probably wouldn’t happen until well after midnight, so I chose this morning instead. And because I’ve read about the scourge of Amazon porch pirates and therefore think it’s probably not wise to leave two fully stuffed bags sitting out on the front steps for the entire day, this morning I’m in the delivery waiting zone.
The problem with being in the delivery waiting zone is that the estimates of arrival time are regrettably . . . imprecise. The websites and 1-800 numbers are nice, and certainly give you a lot of information about the torturous route your bags have followed — in addition to giving you more than ample privacy disclosures — but the reality is that you’re still looking at about a six-hour window, and you’re never quite sure whether your stuff is being successfully delivered until it actually hits your doorstep and you hear the doorbell ring.
Time for another cup of coffee!