Every Mile A Memory

We made our way back east to our lovely hotel. We were thinking of stopping by a pub for a quick one to commemorate the day, but we also had to watch the time because would be playing a show in just a couple hours. We thought better of it and continued on to the  Great George when Lo and behold, there was a cocktail hour going on where they serve beer and wine, gratis!


Notice the label? Yup Gahan House Brew!


I was in a wine kinda place.


So relaxing.

This was a perfect set up for bringing on a nap. We were rested and ready for our first International gig!


It was this close. Walking distance.


Boom! We’re here.


Taps a plenty


The place was pretty full for off season.

We had a pretty great show. We met several folks who were adamant about us coming back here and strongly advised visiting other provinces in Canada. One gent was there from beginning to end, singing along and making us feel very welcomed and appreciated. All it takes is one person who’s all-in to make the night.

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Said fellow took the pic. He was a wee bit drunk.


Sadly, the next morning we would be checking out of our hotel. We enjoyed our stay here so much!


If only we could have stayed long enough to see the tulips bloom!


Back in the USA!

We were pretty hungry for some lunch now that we were back in the USA.  I was hoping to find a nice outdoor restaurant for seafood of some sort on a sunlit patio. We spotted a place right over the border, but it wasn’t open for the season yet. Sad trombones!  This was a casualty of traveling pre-Memorial Day.  We drove on for quite a long time with zero prospects for food when we came upon this joint:


It was open.

This place was pretty dang funny. The menu consisted of literally everything under the sun.


Turkish? You got it. Pierogies? you bet. Fajitas, no problemo. Manicotti? Molto Bene!


The decor was as eclectic as the menu.


Thrift store chic.


It’s Christmas year round at the Nook and Cranny.

The host/owner/cook/dishwasher/waiter was quite enthusiastic. He made sure that we “liked” the place on Facebook before we even ordered.  We got a couple sammiches. They were fine. Notice how the potato chips were artfully spread out as to fully cover the plate in one thin layer. Classy.


Chicken Parm sandwich. Suspect pickle.


Some sort of Chicken Sweet Chili situation.

I may have griped a bit about settling for this just okay lunch, but it turned out to be a good call. There was literally NOTHING for the remainder of our hours long journey to the next gig on our International Tour in Birch Harbor, Maine.


Go ahead and guess what the name means.

Though we had booked our next stay at Bar Harbor, this show was about an hour north. This little fishing village had none of the tourist trappings of other seaside towns. This place was strictly locals. When we arrived it was DEAD.  We were so tired from the long drive that I mused that being sent away might not be such a bad thing.


Hello, folk!

We met the owner, Sarah. She was a sweetheart to invite us to play, knowing nothing about us. She was a wonderful host as well. We asked if she would prefer if we start a bit later, after more people arrived.  She was fine with that and suggested we belly up to the bar for a beer.


The start of a good evening.

So, if you haven’t Googled “pickled wrinkle” yet for fear of what you may find being NSFW, here’s the story:


Pretty cool, huh?

And it’s not just a story, they have them at the ready for the brave souls who want to give them a try. I concurred that they were survival food. Jeff really liked them though.


We tried ’em.

This story about this titular sea snail, really embodied the place. The Pickled Wrinkle stays open all year, through the tough coastal Maine winters, providing sustenance to the surrounding families.  Tonight was the first “Rib Eye Night” of the year. Locally sourced prime meat is the star. They bring out the Weber and do all the grilling outdoors.  Man, it smelled heavenly.


Chef/ Co-owner/ Husband of Sarah manning the grill.


Our concerns about it not being busy enough for music were unfounded. In fact, the locals had all already called in their “ribeye” orders days in advance because it’s such a popular event. As people trickled in, they piled into tables together and moved about, chatting with friends and neighbors. It became clear that this small, tight knit community was something special. On our breaks we talked with lots of folks including a lifelong lobster and fishermen. He looked as if his skin was made of elephant hide, he was so sun and wind burnt. He was still wearing his waders. We talked a bit about the challenges of keeping ahead in such a difficult industry. It’s a tough living up here.

We finished our show and we were warmly received. Next, we were treated to dinner. We asked Sarah what to try, in addition to the ribeye of course, and she suggested the seafood stew.


More of a chowder, but packed with all manner of tender seafood. Delish!

This ribeye was the tastiest cut of beef I can ever recall enjoying. Perfectly seasoned and laced with cheeky, melt-away fat. It was gorgeous!


A thing of beauty.

We were completely burnt at the conclusion of this night, but we still had an hour’s drive ahead of us. We had a moment of panic when I remembered that this stay was at a Bed and Breakfast. I hadn’t even considered that there may not be anyone there to check us in. I looked at my phone and there were two missed calls from them. Oh no.  To add to the evening’s stress, we almost immediately came upon an accident. A woman had just hit a deer seconds before we approached. Jeff checked on her. She was fine but her passenger, her mother wasn’t, and not because of the accident. They were on the way to hospital because her mom was having severe back pain! We stayed long enough for the first responders to arrive and said a prayer for them. I finally got in touch with the inn keeper and there were no worries, the keys would be waiting for us in an undisclosed location when we arrived.

Whew, what a long day! I’m too tired to even start with the B&B. Let’s just say, I never knew how much floral you could stuff into one room.


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