Day Five

Day Five

It had rained heavily overnight and we woke up to fog.  Our plan was to take Penobscot Air back to Rockland but it looked marginal.  We called George and arranged to charter his boat to take us out a 10:30 if Penobscot could not fly that morning.  At 9:30 Penobscot confirmed that they were socked in in Rockland so we cancelled the flight and told George we would meet him at the harbor at 10:30.

Matinicus Airstrip

We had a nice cruise in with George to Rockland.  The weather was a little rough but the Robin handled it with no problem.  When we got into town, we loaded up the car and started heading north.  Before we had gotten more than a mile out of town we saw a legit-looking clam shack on the side of the road and pulled over.  Got a lobster roll and a pint of fried clams.  The shack was run by three guys who were obviously not the sharpest knives in the drawer--our order threw them into a tizzy of activity--writing down the order, checking to see what the prices were, doing third grade math to see what we owed them, then actually making the meal.  Notwithstanding their mental limitations, they made very good lobster rolls and clams. 

Stopped at really nice outdoors store to get Ann some gear for the woods.  Hat, fleece, overshirt, etc.  Drove up to AMC lodge mostly on conference calls catching up on things that had been happening in my absence at the office.

We got to AMC lodge at about 430pm.  We got settled and took a short nap.  According to the staff member we spoke to, Fred and Cindy had checked in the day before and I couldn't understand why he hadn't shown up at our cabin yet--it was unlike Fred to let much time elapse before coming over to harass us. 

AMC Lodge Living Room

I double checked with a staff member to make sure Fred was there.  He asked me if my brother was from Cambridge and I said yes.  He assured me Fred had checked in and then confused me by saying "he's the one with the painted toenails, right?"  This did not sound like my brother so I asked to see their sign in sheet--sure enough, Fred had signed in--but under his wife Cindy's name, Taft.  While it was probably logical to use Taft for one reservation and Mueller for the other (ours) I was beginning to wonder about my brother--he's got painted toenails and has taken his wife's name?

It turned out that there was another guy from Cambridge (a dentist) who was there with his wife.  This fellow had adopted a "metrosexual" style that included the aforementioned painted toenails, short shorts and a midriff-exposing tight shirt.  I try to be open minded, but there was something incongruous about this guy's wardrobe at a Maine camp on the Appalachian Trail.  My concerns about brother Fred were allayed.

Fred finally showed up a little before 6pm, the designated dinner time.  Cindy followed shortly on his heels.  As it turned out, they were in the cabin next door to us.  We had a quick beer then went into the main lodge for dinner.  Fred and Cindy had already been there for a day so they were like the cool kids at camp who already knew the ropes.  We were the newbies.

Dinner was good no-nonsense food—chicken, salad, mashed potatoes, cake.  We got a glass of wine at dinner.

The lodge had a campfire that night.  We opted to stay in our cabin and read books, but could hear an amateur folk singer strumming a guitar down by the fireside.  She played all of the required folk standards: Leaving on a Jet Plane; Puff the Magic Dragon (twice); If I had a Hammer; This land is your land, etc.  After the second rendition of Puff the Magic Dragon, I was reminded of the scene in Animal House when John Belushi, at the toga party, hears a sensitive guy singing folk songs in the stairwell with doe-eyed co-eds looking up at him reverently.  Belushi grabs the guitar, smashes it on the stairs, and leaves with a demonic look on his face.

Belushi hears something he doesn't like