Gee, Think.

Mom and I were stranded in an ethereal mist near the top of Cadillac
mountain on Mount Dessert Island last week. We started the hike with
Kitty’s parents and Lloyd as well. We had to stop on the way down
because of an aching knee.
The sky was overcast when we were at the bottom of the north trail.
Soon after we started up the mountain the temperature began to rise. I
was sweating like crazy. We drank our water quickly anticipating the
water fountains at the top.
Before we knew it a thick fog had rolled in all around us. The
temperature began to drop down to about 60 from 80 and the light breeze
becamre a strong wind. The winds must have been blowing at around 40
mph. Humidity was near 100% as we watched thick billowing gusts of fog
streak between us and the trees.
When we finally reached the summit I could not see more than 100 feet
ahead. It felt like twilight. I went from shirtless to sweatshirt in
about 2 minutes. The strength of the gusts doubled as we stepped out
from below the granite boulders.
It was the walk down the mountain that started the knee ache. Mom had
to stop and I volunteered to stay with her. This was mostly because I
didn’t wan’t to hike back day in the atrocious weather.
Lloyd and Kitty raved ahead to the rescue vehicle. I think Mom and I
were sitting on the side of the road waiting for about an hour, but the
time passed quickly. We had a lot to talk about and the unusual weather
conditions created an excellent environment for the meeting of the
minds.
Speaking of meeting, a strange man pulled over on his way down the
mountain in his dodge stratus. He was clearly derranged and I thought I
might have had to kung fu him. Thankfully he drove off after some
disorganized and slurred comments.
What a day for a hike!

I’m back from a much needed week-long vacation. This coming week should
prove to be a busy one, and the next one even busier. I’m going to try
and exit that options position I opened last week if the market keeps
moving up. If I have to do that I’ll be locking in my most humbling
losses yet. Oi vey!
The first day back is always a shock. When I’m coming back from Maine,
I’m coming from the wilderness. I wake up in a little house overlooking
the penobscot. It’s home to eagles, osprey, deer and moose. 24 hours
later I’m in the mix on broadway in the morning rush. I’m weaving
through the crowd on my morning commute, toward my office in a
skyscraper overlooking the New York harbor. The amount of change that I
see in those short 24 hours is a real trip.
Back at ‘em today!!

Ahhhhhhhhh… A giant sigh of relief. Today the real getaway begins.
I’ve got no cell service, no internet access, and no sleeves. It’s
great! Today we’re going to spend a while in tandem kayaks touring
around the southwest harbor waters. We could see some seals, there’s
always a chance. I hope I’m wearing swim trunks all day long.
Our motel, the Edenbrook, is nice enough. It’s a short walk from
downtown Bar Harbor. The rooms are really quaint. I think the “coffee
maker” is an antique. I’ve never seen one quite like it before. The
rooms were a little musty whenwe first opened them too. But this is all
inline with what I would expect, nothing too fancy, nothing modern.
Everything just right.

Non-Sequential
Originally uploaded by ocellnuri.

Maine is my home state. It’s not where I was born, but it’s where I grew up. I’ve got a romantic vision of it in my mind’s eye. The sun shining off the tall grass in the fields I ran through during cross country practice. The snow covered trails I hiked through between home and school each winter day. It’s a place that’s natural. Nature resides in Maine. Industry is sleepy. The pace is slower, and more measured. It’s my idealistic childhood comfort fantasy.

This is way the current events disturb me.

I just drove home to be with my family for the Christmas season. I was almost in Bangor, headed north on interstate 95 when I smelt it. The dump. I smelt it last summer, and the summer before. The stench filled my nostrils for the first time two summers ago. I was appalled. It was like realizing that your Dad is not invincible. Like watching your team lose a championship game. I felt like something beautiful had died.

I never imagined that I would drive through a part of the state that stunk of trash. I thought the only offender was the Old Town mill, which puts out a strange sulfur smell. That mill was the only unnatural odor I knew of. Now there were two, the second being the stench of trash wafting in the air, strong enough to be smelt at 70 mph.

What’s going on? Why does Maine smell? Who is responsible for this? I don’t yet know the answers to those questions, but I hope to find out soon. Someone is responsible for piling the trash so high that it stinks in the wind. Someone is to blame for the excessive pile of waste. My gut feeling is that this site has been mismanaged by the irresponsible in exchange for money. I feel like someone must have had their pockets lined to allow this to happen. What’s worse is that another dump is being built in Old Town.

I think the people of Maine are being taken for a ride by their leadership. Where are the protectors of the state? Who is selling out our Natural resources? Who is responsible for destroying my childhood paradise? I think these people have been bribed by a negligent company. What other explanation is there? I know that it is possible to build dumps that do not stink up the surrounding area. This must take lots of money, and drastically reduce the profit on the dump operation. There must be a huge cost and effort involved in making a “eco-friendly” dump, but the cost is dollars is nothing compared to the cost to the environment when a dump goes bad. The environmental costs could be as serious as a contaminated water supply. What if this chemical run-off seeps into our drinking water?

I haven’t done the investigating to validate any of these feelings. I have no facts to back me up, I’m sure you could get them by talking to the people of Bangor and Old Town. I don’t know what I’m about to do, but I hope to affect a change here. This is serious. I can’t sit in inaction while my childhood paradise is pillaged.

portland grafitti 1
Originally uploaded by kittlesh2o.

yo the writing is on the wall in portland maine. i saw this mural with my cousins abe and hannah back in january. what a peice indeed. i love it