|Dolores near the Belfast landing on a day when neither of us got lost. Milt Gross photo.|
"Lost at the Somerset" is the title Dolores and I thought of, when she told me her experience the other day at the Somerset.
She got lost there, and later I somehow "got turned around" and ended up driving toward Camden on the same road on which I'd left Camden a half-hour earlier.
The Samoset is a luxurious resort in Rockport, Maine, with guest rooms, cottages, and 72 timeshare units. It was opened July 4, 1889, according to a website I found -- one of several.
But Dolores didn't feel too luxurious, when she got lost on their property, which may or may not give you an idea of how big it is. She had gone there to eat a luxurious dinner (In Maine, dinner is at noon and supper is in the evening.) but became bored with too many relatives all talking at once.
So she excused herself to walk back to her cousins house a mile or two up -- or down, not sure -- the public road.
Meanwhile, since I felt more like a Burger King fish sandwich and since I didn't feel like walking any more than necessary on my walking sticks brought on by a "bad" hip, I took off for Burger King. (Besides, I was never a "luxurious" type of guy.)
Back to Dolores, who found herself walking down a long road, which turned out to be the driveway to the Somerset property. After a while, she became confused and decided this was not the way back to the public road, so she turned around and walked back. She found someone and upon asking them for directions, turned around again and walked out the long driveway toward the road.
She was pretty sure at this point that there was no public road nor end to this long driveway. Also, she had walked off her dinner and was hungry again.
This time as she walked out the drive, a car stopped. Her cousin's husband, Hank (his name for this column only) had interrupted his dinner to do an errand off the property, and he was now driving back when he met Dolores walking.
He drove her back to his and Dolores' cousin's house. When I drove in to pick her up, she was ready to be picked up. (Although she usually doesn't want to be picked up by a guy in a Toyota -- Toyoter in Maineiac.)
Meanwhile, I had found Burger King okay, down at the beginning of Rockland. I wound around, entering by a wrong entrance, of course, since their were no "keep out, stupid" signs, and after circling the parking lot, found my way to a window. I ordered, moved up, and collected my two fish sandwiches.
Not wanting to eat them there, I drove to Merryspring (a woodsy place where "stuff" happens) in Camden. I sat there in the car among a few hungry insects and ate my very delicious Burger King fish sandwiches. Then I decided I should relieve myself and saw bushes in front of where Miss Toyoter was parked. I got out and without my two walking poles moved to the front of the car and prepared to relieve myself.
And, of course, a car drove in and parked nearby. Although this is a place with trails, trails for walking, the driver stayed in his car.
So I returned to Miss Toyoter unrelieved. I then drove through Camden, a chore in summer, and turned into the Camden Hills State Park. (I read a piece in today's paper, telling why people visit state parks. My visit was none of those reasons, of course.) I got to the shower and rest room and limped with my walking poles to the building. After ten minutes of reading signs on doors, I found the men's rest room at the back of the building. Except for the water on the floor, it was okay. I got relieved.
On my way back to the car, I met a young man -- younger than me -- who asked where the men's room might be. I told him he had a ten-minute walk behind the building before he would find it.
Finally back in the car, I drove out Route 52 and stopped to relax in the parking lot at the boat launch on Megunticook Lake. I was just getting relaxed, when a pickup pulled in with a trailer in tow, looking for a parking spot. I had the only free spot, so I left and headed back through touristy Camden and picked up Dolores.
Then we headed out John Street in search of a back way back to Belfast and Searsport to avoid once more driving through Camden. After a few right turns, we somehow found ourselves back on John Street, heading back to Route 1. (Mind you, I wasn't lost, just a bit confused. Maineiacs, even imported ones like me, never get lost. Just turned around.)
After driving through busy Campden again, we headed toward Belfast on Route 52.
If you think this was a long column, think how long things get when you're lost or even turned around or trying to get through Camden on a summer day.
We were happy to see the driveway to our new home in Searsport.
Milt Gross can be reached for corrections, harassment, or other purposes at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Milton M. Gross Copyright 2014