Tropical Storm Philippe
Lock the shutters. Batten down the hatches. Fill the bathtub with drinking water. When a big storm comes in, most people like to get prepared. But us, we’re foolhardy! When a tropical storm comes rolling up the east coast, we go hiking.
Featured photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/rTk5JfF2aFwNqNxv9
October 7th, 2023 - Acadia Day 1
Ah, federal holidays. Tyler’s position at the USDA means that he gets all of the “post office holidays” off work (much to the chagrin of our families). 2023 was an ambitious travel year for us, so when Columbus Day rolled around, we weren’t wasting any time. Why spend a holiday folding laundry and doing practical adult things? Instead, we hopped on a plane and headed to Maine. To date, it is the only time we have flown east instead of west!
Our early-morning layover was in Baltimore. With time to spare, we treated ourselves to a breakfast of overpriced airport McDonald’s. Pink smoothie cooling my fingers, I positioned myself at a conveniently located table. Time to people-watch. The art of observing people is one of the marital joys we share. Tyler is significantly better at it than me. My honest face always seems to telegraph that I find you incredibly intriguing. I can’t help it; I’m a scientist! Observation is what we do.
After taking stock of the various hairstyles, fashion choices, accents, and funny conversations present in the Baltimore airport, we headed to Maine. We landed in a world doused in rain and fallen crimson leaves. The heavy clouds were disheartening. Our situation grew more discouraging when we couldn’t find our rental car. We had taken a risk with this trip, stepping aside from the usual car rental companies to try another called Turo. Turo is like Uber. Private individuals act as lenders for their personal vehicles. Prices tend to be cheaper, but there’s less insurance coverage if something goes wrong. We figured it was worth the risk with a short weekend trip like this.
That is, if we could find our car! We followed Turo’s instructions exactly, but our car was nowhere to be found. We dragged our suitcases all over a parking garage, searching high and low for the grey Audi. I squinted my eyes across the ocean of pavement.
“Tyler, what if it’s that car sitting in the passenger pickup area?” I pointed. We had our doubts. This wasn’t where the car was supposed to be, but it was the only grey Audi in the place. We wandered over to the car, and stood by awkwardly to the side as Tyler called the Turo “host.” A second later, I watched the man in the car answer his phone. Found him!
Our Turo host was a very tall man with an equally tall smile. He introduced himself as Kristof, immediately revealing a lilting German accent. Any irritation I had melted away. It was impossible to stay frustrated with a friendly German grin like his! Kristof wanted to show us the car, so we all climbed in. Since Kristof was in the driver’s seat, I got in the back and felt immediately squished. Kristof’s big German legs needed the seat scooted all the way back, I guess.
I leaned in and whispered to Tyler, “Darling, can you scoot the seat forward please?”
Kristof turned that big gleaming smile on Tyler. “Ja, darling, scoot zee seat forward for her!” His eyes twinkled as moved seamlessly from the joke into explanation. “So anyvays, here is zee button for zee skylight, and oooh, don’t forget, you’ve got zee butt-heat!” Excitedly, he jabbed a button on the console marked by a seat with heat waves. “Zee butt-heat is very nice, you’ll love it!!”
(In case you were curious, the heated seats in the car were very nice. More importantly, the term “butt-heat” is one that we still use to this day! Thanks, Kristof!)
Butt-heat blazing, we were soon journeying through the sodden Maine landscape. Sailless boats rocked in the grey harbors. Every theme of lighthouse decorated the buildings, yards, shops, and streets. Thanks to the tropical storm Philippe moving up the coast, everything was drab. Well, except us. Well-conditioned to rain after our Yellowstone trip, we were well-armed with massive umbrellas and colorful raincoats. Enthusiastically, we hit the trail, rain pattering away.
Acadia is known for its fall colors. In fact, October is the busiest month to visit the park. We had expected crowds and vibrant trees, but instead we saw raindrops and fallen leaves. The storm was leaving its mark on the park as we made our way up the hiking trail. Despite Philippe’s intervention, the trail was still very beautiful. Pinned beneath protective pines, vibrant maples flared colors through the misty rain. Golden brown boulders rimmed the edges of ponds. Raindrops glistened with the light of the dying day. A charming New England bridge spanned a gurgling creek, which we crossed after I took some photos. We were beginning to lose daylight, but we couldn’t turn around until we had summited Bubble Rock, the target of our trail.
I’m not sure why it’s named Bubble Rock. It is certainly not shaped like a bubble. Bubble Rock is an amalgamation of rock. The hills are rock. The valleys are rock. Bubble Rock is rock. Accustomed to the smooth dirt trails of Ohio, I was startled at the amount of rock on this trail. And, as Philippe increased in intensity, I grew alarmed at the amount of rock on the trail. The rocks were slippery, and we were expected to climb up piles of them to get to the top of Bubble Rock. The wind was quickly picking up, shoving us closer to the edges of rock piles. Our hands slipped on the wet rock surfaces.
As Tyler shimmied through a rock crevice, he remarked, “Well, we could be at our Airbnb right now. Or maybe driving up to the top of Cadillac Mountain.”
“But no,” I grinned wryly. “We’re climbing a mountain instead!”
The beautiful thing about it was that we were in high spirits. Our flight had gone well. Our rental car had butt-heat. We were together, hiking, and making memories during a tropical storm. By the time we got to the top of the mountain, our pants and shoes were soaked through. Tyler raised his hands like an Olympic champion, then stumbled as a mighty gust of wind knocked against him. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead. We were both grinning. What a hike.
One of our shortcomings as a hiking couple is failing to account for shorter evenings in the fall. It is a consistent habit that we’ve encountered. We still tell the story of how we stayed out far too late during a November hike in Shenandoah National Park. We ended up slogging through creeks in the dark, startling wayward deer with the faint lights of our cellphone flashlights. This Acadia hike wasn’t too different. We took our time coming down from Bubble Rock, and by the time we hit the flat part of the trail, it was dark. We had a flashlight this time, at least, but still, I found myself wondering about the bear population in Maine. Tyler led the way with the bobbing circle of flashlight glow. The rain steadily trickled off our umbrellas. Our sodden hiking shoes quickly pounded into the dirt. We were still in a good mood, but focused. I was trying not to think about bears.
We made it back to the Audi without any incidents. I happily turned on the butt-heat as we ventured into town for supper. The little town of Bar Harbor was bustling with other visitors also avoiding the storm. It was still raining, harder than before. We were forced to park our car much further from the restaurant than we would have preferred and thus were wet again by the time we made it inside. But thankfully it was warm, and there was blueberry pie. It was a good way to end a good day.
It goes without saying that this hike wasn’t the smartest one we’ve ever done. In fact, it’ll probably be counted as one of the “Questionable Life Decisions” on our blog’s home page. We don’t recommend that you go hiking up a mountain in a tropical storm. We did it, and the good Lord protected us from our own stupidity. Now we have a lovely story to tell and unharmed bodies to show for it.
There’s a lot of blessing in that, for sure!
Hiking trails: Jordan Pond to South Bubble Summit
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