A Living Magazine - Grounded in Maine - Day 22 - Camp at Serpent Cove

I woke up at 5:30 am and remembered where I was. Amazingly, I was still tired. I turned over and went back to sleep for a couple of hours. Then, when I woke the second time, I knew I had to get up. As I was packing, Colleen came down to visit, with her pup leading the way. We went back to the cabin. It was nice to see it in the sunlight...

Little Girl observes all.

After I transferred some pictures we left to go into town. When we got there, I showed her where the Sunken Garden was...

We enjoyed a few minutes talking and walking around the garden, then said goodbye. I was so happy to meet Colleen in person. She really did inspire me and we had a good time together...

Had to do the selfie!

I worked there in the garden until it got unbearably hot, then went over to the library. The Wiscasset Library in small but nice. The gentleman working there confiscated my mango juice at the door. Some libraries will let you drink something if the container has a cap. Not this library, though.

All the while, it was good to be indoors. The air conditioning was cranked full up. They had an outlet and a table. I worked there finishing the post before this one, then left when they closed at 5:00 pm. Walking back across the town I saw that people had gathered on the lawn of the park called Wiscasset Common. A stage was set up and there was a very interesting three man band playing (just keyboards, bass and drums). I discovered later that the keyboardist, singer, leader/songwriter was Max Ater...

I really liked this stuff. All original music. And, I was reminded about how much different a keyboardist is as a songwriter. The chords were novel. The songs were unique. Ater has an excellent voice. I'm not sure who I would compare him to. The overall feeling was kind of a Bruce Hornsby and Ben Folds thing.

I shouldn't leave out what made these guys so good. The bass and drums were right there. The bassist was very good. I wouldn't mind having him back me up. He was always popping in notes right along with the rhythm. And the drummer providing that rhythm was super tight, matching his beats to the inflections, stops, starts, breaks, etc., of Ater's keyboard parts.

If you have a chance to check these guys out, do it. Not all great music needs guitar. It was refreshing to see a band do so much without one.

When the day finally began to cool a bit, and the sun sank low behind the western hills, I left to find a sleep spot on the other side of the bridge...

A look back at Wiscasset.

A look ahead at Davis Island, where Fort Edgecomb

is located far down the southeast side.

I walked laterally across the island following Route 1 but not wanting to go all the way over to Edgecomb proper. It was due to rain for the next few days. My next visit was with my friend Melinda down in Boothbay Harbor. But it wasn't for another five or so days. It was a twelve mile walk with no stores, libraries or gas stations along the way (down Route 27). I had to be judicious with my time.

I would be in Boothbay Harbor for about a week anyway and decided that the best idea was to stay near Wiscasset. I'd camp on Davis and walk into Wiscasset each day if I was able. I was really searching for a good place down near the water. Man, did I find it. 

Just before taking the next bridge off of Davis Island, I saw down to my left, that there were some possible places. As I scouted it out, I heard a woman walk up on my right side, startling me a bit. She was about 35, very pretty, in a short red dress, and carrying what looked like leftovers from the Water's Edge Restaurant. She was quite glib when we came face to face.    

I could not imagine what the hell someone like that was doing on the highway without a car. She was looking off the side of the road in same places I was.  I asked her if she lost something. She said she had a bag stuffed in the bushes. She smiled and said she and her kids were camped under the bridge. How odd was that? I told her I was looking for a campsite in the woods down by the shore, but that I'd go somewhere else if they were staying nearby.

She said not to worry about it. And, I was glad she did, because it was dark and there wasn't much else I could do, besides walk over the bridge into Edgecomb. and scrounge around there. She found her bag and continued down the road then crawled over the guardrail and climbed down the embankment, disappearing under the bridge.

So, what were they doing? Was this a family tradition? Second week of August each year, have dinner under the bridge to Edgecomb? Or, were they tourists trying to save a few bucks? Was their car parked over at the resort? Were they homeless? I couldn't figure it out.

I climbed down onto the rocky beach and scouted along the woods for a good spot. I found one up on the grass beside some small birch trees...

There was this grass right on the beach and the tide didn't reach it. It was soft and level.

But that spot was too exposed. Traffic going south would be able to see it.

Now that the tent was set up, I could just walk around on the beach. The stars were out and there was no rain forecast for this night. I noticed that the woman and her kids had lit a fire under the bridge, probably to fend off the mosquitoes--who were quite active. Fire is never a good idea near a town. But, all I cared about was not having the police show up and think it was me.

Looking around and across the river, I noticed that the surrounding land looked like a large serpent on the water. I decided to name the little area where I would spend the next few days, "Serpent Cove,"an image you see in the next post's pictures...

My solar air lamp gave a bright glow when I climbed into the tent.

After a good long while, I climbed into the tent and fell asleep on top of my sleeping bag. Then at about 1:00 am I woke, hearing the woman and her family walking toward Wiscasset on the highway above. I moved into the bag. I had put all my clean clothes in the new little bag that I'd found on my way from Brunswick to Wiscasset the week before, and it made an excellent pillow.

Edgecomb Sleep Spot.