​On our second trip Downeast, before returning to Campobello, we stopped in Eastport, home to 50-feet tides and Ray’s Mustard Factory, the only remaining mustard plant in the United States. 

,​When we arrived, a Pirates Festival was just getting underway. Maurading bands of seemingly inebriated pirates crossed our path even before we arrived in town.

​A dead pirate guarded a shop on the outskirts of downtown.

An old Woodie was parked nearby and loaded with skateboards, destination unknown.

In the harbor the Fisherman’s Statue was left behind as a gift to the city by producers of a mini-series, Murder in Small Town. 

​After a quick look around Eastport we headed back to Canada and Campobello, where this peaceful campsite at the shore’s edge awaited.

It is not the journey that we had sketched out in our minds, a trip that would have taken us through the rain forested Pacific Northwest, landing in the redwood forests of Northern California as autumn turned cool.
 
We have landed instead in Bangor, Maine, where we can assist my mother as she recovers from a bad fall.  Mark and I arrived three weeks ago and between visits to the skilled nursing unit we have managed to find moments to explore the beauty of  Bangor and further Downeast.

​Just over two hours north and east of Bangor lies the easternmost town, Lubec, and the easternmost city, Eastport, in the United States.
 
Lubec is a quirky fishing village with an artistic fringe.

​ Canada lies just a stone’s throw away and the two countries feel very close.

A short bridge takes you right to Canada, to Campbello Island.​

​Our most exciting find was in Head Harbor where we found  two ships laden down with thousands of fresh scallops just scooped out of a fishery off the coast of Nova Scotia. The fishermen called in a crew of local men and women to shuck the scallops from their shells and get them quickly to market.

We had a bird’s eye view of the action and caught the wrist action of the shuckers in this video.

​That night we turned the skillet on hot and seared up a huge panful of the fresh scallops that we purchased at boat side in Head Harbor.

​And took a drive to watch the sunset between Campobello’s lighthouse and Lubec.

Click below to see pictures of some of the highlights of our trip from Dawson Creek, British Columbia through the Yukon Territory to Alaska.

​After my mother fell and fractured her pelvis, Mark and I decided to make the long drive back along the Alaska highway, driving 4,637 miles from Anchorage to Bangor, Maine. This time we didn’t have much time to linger as we sped eastward.  Mark drove long hours every day as we headed south through mountainous Yukon and British Columbia.

The alpine scenery there is breathtaking.

​*** Click here to see a slideshow of our trip down the AlCan Highway, including the beautiful Kluane National Park, Liard Springs, and the small businesses that scrape buy selling gas and snacks to travelers along the road.***

After three days on the AlCan highway, we moved into the endless prairies of Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba, where farmers, including dozens of Hutterite and Mennonite communities, grow wheat and canola in expansive fields that roll out in both directions as far as the eye can see.  Farm machinery is big business here, along with granaries and trains.

​By the time we reached Ontario, the fields had been replaced by sparse wooded areas dotted by hundreds of lakes.  We stopped for gas several times a day and tried to find a lake where we could eat lunch and admire the view.

Some of the Ontario towns tried to distinguish themselves with unusual sculptures like this snowman …

​and a tribute to the fur traders who often portaged their canoes to travel the Missinaibi river from the Great Lakes to the Arctic.

We are staying at campgrounds in Bangor for a month or so, then moving to a cottage for most of the fall.