live. work. dream.

With a wag of his tail, our dog Jerry always seems to bring us such good fortune. On Saturday, we took him to “Bark Harbor,” an upscale pet boutique in Bar Harbor’s downtown area. As we walked in, we noticed a flyer that advertised the business as being for sale, along with the building which has an upstairs apartment, and a separate home away from downtown. Woah!

We’ve often said that our next business would be some kind of dog-oriented operation, and the opportunity to start one was right in front of us, in one of the most beautiful locations we have been to yet.

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So, if you do decide to go the fancy feast route for your lobster dinner there are plenty of expensive looking restaurants in Bar Harbor to choose from. And I recommend a dish that doesn’t require you getting up to your elbows in lobster.

Lobster Alfredo is a nice way to get the cream and butter fix that is mandatory with any lobster meal. But this can be made easily enough in the comfort of your own camper. You don’t have to get dressed up, with the risk of your fine duds getting messed up. It is a lot cheaper – and much more fun – to pick up your fresh ingredients at a traditional lobster pound. And whether you you eat off fine china, plastic, or paper plates is up to you.

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This was a new site for me at a National Park campground. When we first drove up to the easternmost camp site from where we began our trip, I guessed this was a communal lobster pot where you could boil your fresh catch from Bar Harbor and feast on bugs by the fireside.

My silly dream was crushed when I discovered it to be a sink for dumping camp dishwater with a strainer basket and nearby trashcan for nasty bits. This is a good thing I suppose. After all, like the signs read, “A fed raccoon is a dead raccoon.”

But it sure felt good anyway to finally sit by a campfire again without bugs feasting on me. Especially after enjoying an authentic Down East lobster feast in Northeast Harbor. Just remember, when it comes to overindulgence, it’s not the volume of lobster one consumes, it’s the butter factor. And it is clarified butter that makes a breaks an establishment from the fine dining list.

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From California to Maine, we’ve seen some of the best and worst grocery stores across the U.S.A. There’s been many a week when we haven’t found anything resembling fresh local produce. Lucky for us, there’s been a handfull of large chain grocery stores that have kept us from getting iron deficiencies and scurvy when no local farm stands were to be found. Here’s a handy list of some of the higher quality ones that may scratch your foodie itch while traveling cross country.

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In just our first few months on the road as full-timers, we’ve met tons of great, fun people. Now that school’s back in session, we’re meeting more fulltime RVers, most of them retired. One thing I’ve noticed is, there hasn’t been a person of color in the whole bunch (I’m assuming this of course, based on outward appearances, however right or wrong that may be). But as a brown skinned person, this kind of observation is just something that one tends to notice throughout life. Please; I’m not saying it has any sort of impact on what I think of people or places, or whatever.

But I find myself wondering; why aren’t people of color getting in on the full-time RV lifestyle?

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Last fall, our beloved dog Jerry was diagnosed with bone cancer, had his leg removed and became a tripod dog. The vet told us that he would only survive about 4 months after the surgery. We moved quickly to sell our house and business so we could hit the road and give Jerry the life he always deserved. This trip was our way of making up for all those long hours we worked, and devoting 100% of our time to playing and romping with him, while he still can. Every day with Jerry is precious to us; we are so grateful that 10 months later, he’s still happy and healthy.

Today was a milestone. We made it to the Atlantic Ocean, at Acadia National Park in Maine, and got to watch Jerry play in the ocean once again, just like he did for so many years at Samoa Beach in our old hometown of Eureka, California. He made it with us, all the way across the country, and dipped his three paws in the Atlantic. What a beautiful day this was.

Not Just Aimless Wanderers

Not having to watch a clock has given us the really precious gift of being able to go with the flow, follow our intuition and just let things happen. How sad that life as working fools, we are all too busy to meander down streets of different places, or stop to chat and get to know people. Why should this great learning experience be reserved for retired folks only?

Not charting a strict course is less about aimlessly wandering around the map, and more about listening to intuition, so that we can open ourselves up to what lies ahead. Doing so has brought us many adventures, and helped us to learn tons about where we might want to set down roots.

We Found a Contender: Plainfield, Vermont

Recently, after leaving Burlington and moving toward New Hampshire, Jim and I were completely starving for some grub. We kept looking for a good place to turn into, but the countryside’s driveways don’t give much room to stop an 8,000 pound trailer. Finally, we spotted one of Vermont’s unobtrusive roadside business announcement billboards (Vermont, Maine, Alaska and Hawaii are the only four states that have outlawed billboards).

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Back in Wisconsin, we picked up some local maple syrup. As good as it was, we desperately tried to finish it before we got to Burlington where we just had to pick up some pure Vermont maple syrup straight from the source. Then I realized, why wait? Let’s get some from both states and have a taste test.

Below are the results from our head to head comparison of these two pure maple syrups.

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Having been an avid reader of nearly all the early Stephen King classics, our stay in Bangor, Maine would not be complete without a drive-by of the horror master’s manor. Surprisingly, it is easy to find, and very accessible. As to not disturb mister King, we rode by on our bicycles, took a quick photo and quickly fled the scene. Watch the movie of our spooky ride-by in our RV Home Movies Playlist.

The house is beautiful, and the ironwork on the gates – which were wide open – is simply amazing. One look at the intricate yet tasteful spider web and bat designs, and we knew we were in the right place. But this haunted little jaunt got me to thinking that it has been quite a while since I picked up a King novel. So I compiled this selection of Stephen King Audio CDs on Amazon.com, perfect for you full-timers out there looking for a good scare on your next long haul.

For those who don’t get the title of this post, it is a reference to the Stephen King novel Misery, with a character portrayed eerily well by Kathy Bates in the movie adaptation. Respecting Mr King’s privacy, we’ll leave you t find his house like we did. Hint: while his address isn’t exactly listed by the Maine CVB, it can be found in Jamie Jensen’s Road Trip USA.

We’ve actually been receiving some flack for our post about reasons to consider emigration to Canada. You won’t, however, see these flaming remarks here on the blog because, well, it is our blog and we don’t intend to give these so called patriots the time of day or glory of assuming their comments actually get to us.

So as mother always said, if you don’t have something nice to say… don’t bother because you’re just wasting your time with comments that get sent directly to the spam pile. After all this is indeed America as these right wing fascists so proudly declare, and we are proud to have the freedom of using our delete button.

While they call us “unamerican” [sic] and would gladly help us pack our bags, they’ve got us all wrong and are merely substantiating our beliefs about certain factions that continue to make this country a target for international enmity.

How appropriate that this has all occurred as we crossed the state with one of the best state mottos. While we enjoyed our stay in neighboring Vermont – “Freedom and Unity“ – New Hampshire’s “Live Free or Die“ is now our favorite state motto. Attributed to New Hampshire Revolutionary War Hero General John Stark, this slogan says it all.


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