After two wonderful months in eastern Canada we returned to the U.S. for one of our bucket-list items – fall colors!
There is no doubt that we fell head over heels in love with Canada. The cities we visited had old world charm and in the French-speaking areas, surrounded by gorgeous architecture, it often felt like we’d driven the RV to Europe. The country was beautiful, the water was clean, the people were extremely helpful and friendly, and any political turmoil they might be experiencing was kept in check. Political debate and discussions are still handled there with respect and a desire to understand the other side. A willingness to focus on the issues, rather than a particular person or party and better yet, every topic of conversation doesn’t turn into a political topic. It was a wonderful change from the U.S. and until we returned to the U.S., I didn’t even realized how much of that stress I have carried with me.
Having said that, there’s something about coming home that always feels good and we intended to become expert leaf peepers, following the fall colors from Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont all the way down the East Coast! It was, for me, the main reason I wanted to do the eastern U.S. tour in the RV.
Unfortunately, we were treated to a rude awakening our first day back in the U.S. We arrived at the Cobscook Bay State Park campground without issue. As we pulled up to the camping spot we’d been assigned moments earlier, an older gentleman with a student girlfriend were parked in it. It took a few phone calls with the main office and the surly woman on duty to sort out the fact that the couple had moved to that campsite yesterday and the prior office worker didn’t record their move properly, so it had looked to little Miss Surly like it was an open spot. We didn’t need her exhaustive explanation about how it was her co-workers fault. We just needed a new spot and there appeared to be plenty.
We picked one out, called the office, gave her the number, and settled in for the evening.
At 1am I heard 4 shots fire in rapid succession – bam, bam, bam, bam! I shot up in bed. Was hunting allowed in this area? Was someone hunting at 1am? Who would be hunting from their tent or camper in the campground? No…this didn’t make sense. This was not right. Shortly after, I heard someone speed away. Now what? Call the police? Tell them what? This was the most uncomfortable I’d ever been in two years of RVing!
Another U.S. incident that had me pondering the U.S. dilemma.
I know that smarter people than me are working to figure out how to balance these rights.
All I can say, was that this incident left me feeling like Uncle Sam welcomed me back with a right hook to the jaw. Whether you own guns or you don’t, I don’t think anyone wants to feel unsafe in their own country. I don’t think any of us want these increasingly random acts of violence (again, not that this is what occurred in the park). The U.S. is still one of the greatest countries in the world and I hope we find a solution that works for both sides.
I can’t tell you anything more about this area of Maine. We were here 2 nights and I don’t think I left the RV for more than a few minutes. There’s no logic in why. It wasn’t like I was afraid I’d be shot if I went out. I just wasn’t feeling…well…good.
The only thing we did do in the area was use the InstaPot outside (picture above). Doug’s multiple trials confirmed that the exploding InstaPot (more info here) was due to a poorly seated gasket. Future incidents have been avoided.
