Today we weren’t just adjacent to Acadia, we went in to Acadia. And out, And almost immediately back in again, and then later back out, and then by a couple of entrances, and then through. (Possibly there was even a bit more in and out and next to, but it’s hard to remember.) Because that’s the kind of park it is.

We hiked the Beehive, and by we I mean I made it about a third of the way, TBH about half way, and Erin all the way to the top. And back. I turned around when it was like here is where you start scrambling up the rock face, TBH when it was like here you hang on to some iron loops to climb the rock face. Then we ate lunch on the beach, in part because it was right across the street from the beehive so we didn’t have to drive and find another parking spot, and partly hey it’s the BEACH, where else would you sit and eat and enjoy the day?

We continued on the loop road stopping where our fancy and the views led us, until we stopped at Jordan Pond to hike around it. We considered tackling The Bubbles (hey I don’t name them, I just hike them – or not, as the case may be) while we were right there, but a combination of factors made us say tomorrow. That’s an odd thing in life, when you feel like you have a tomorrow you start emptying today to fill up tomorrow. The trail on the east side is nice, with a nice firm crushed rock makeup, but then you round the top thru some wetlands with a couple of bridges, then a rock scramble for a while (overheard as we passed a family where mom had taken her little girl’s hand “mom, you’re pushing me in the water”), then a board walk, then a bog walk (that’s what the sign said, but it felt like they put down spagnum moss over forest moss for a very spongy feel), and the crushed rock again for a hop, skip, and jump back to the beginning.

We got in a nice drive around the island, not as in all the way around the whole island, including stretches through where the wealthy and not wealthy live, before arriving back in Bar Harbor where we easily parked and ate because we learned from last nights fiasco. Ahh, the joys of a second chance. At a rough estimate 1/3 of the license plates are New York and 1/3 New Jersey. The accents are thick, including the foreign ones.

Now MBH and I are just hoping we can climb out of bed tomorrow.

A classic selfie with the Bubbles in the background.
In the words of my better half (MBH) “rugged beauty”. Not in reference to the pink interloper.
The beehive from below. IRL you could easily see and hear people on the hive (including Erin), but the fog and distance was enough to befuddle the iPhone camera.
Rocks, taking the best pictures since the stone age.
We walked the plank, road that is. It was a lot like a Scottish single track with turnouts.
The fog burned off, the clouds rolled away, the sun came out, everything looked so much better.
And we end with a post lunch beach selfie.