At the Laundromat...which in Bar Harbor is a combination Laundromat and tanning salon.  They need to move this town a 1,000 miles south SO I CAN LIVE HERE!

The change machine was broken so I went across the street to the quickie-mart.  While there, bought the dogs a dozen raw eggs for breakfast...went back to the Laundromat, dumped everything in the machine -- including the eggs.  Realized what I had done before it was too late (the carton got a little soggy but the eggs were all intact).  Senility will hold no surprises for me...

Having a hard time deciding what to do...It is another perfect day weather-wise and I feel like I should take advantage and get on the road to Bass Harbor.  On the other hand, if I leave Bar Harbor and the Internet cafe, I'm essentially giving up on the idea of computer contact with the world for the foreseeable future  I could stay another night, have another try at the software downloads, eat more lobster, and try to reach the techies on the phone tomorrow.  If I stay, I'm going to try to change hotels -- we really don't need something on the level of luxury we've been enjoying at The Ledgelawn...and that four-poster bed is awfully high for dogs who have to jump up on it to sleep.

A blindingly red restored 60s Mustang just roared by -- and at the wheel, someone's sweet white-haired grandmother.  No doubt, the original owner!

OK, so here's my plan: Back to the visitors’ center.  If I can find another hotel close by, we'll stay another night.  If not, we'll strike out for Bass Harbor.

Found another hotel – about 20 yards away from The Ledgelawn.  They let us check in early and I left the dogs there while I came back to the Internet cafe for another round – which I lost.  No end to the frustration.  Anyway, for tonight, I’ll be at the Rockhurst, 207-288-3140, room #10.                                 

Freudian Moment...

As I mentioned earlier, The Rockhurst is downhill from The Ledgelawn -- literally and figuratively.  As I was checking in at The Rockhurst, the owner was telling me that she grew up in The Ledgelawn -- her parents ran the hotel for 20 years.  Now she sits and looks up at it every day.  I wonder what she thinks about that.

Newtonian Moment...

Today I saw an apple fall from a tree.  Now, even as I write these words, I realize I come perilously close to sounding like a Hallmark card -- but I don't know how else to say it. I've seen apples in a tree. I've seen apples on the ground.  Until today, I never saw one drop before my very eyes.

This was the highlight of my day, unfortunately.  Four hours of computer agony got me no closer to connectivity so I'm putting my dreams of staying in touch on hold. Tomorrow, we're headed out in the hopes of finding a phone booth somewhere down the line.

We're alive and the food is still up the tree. Will give the stove one more try this morning before dropping it in the first trashcan I come to.

OK, stove did not work -- but reading the instructions that a heating paste may be needed to light it on cold/damp days. In my disgust last night, I had left it to sit outside. I suppose we'll give that another try.

Walking out of camp passed the cutest little cabins which -- if I had known they were there -- would have been very tempting.

Waiting on the ferry at Winter Harbor. Turns out that where we camped was just a few hundred yards from the park entrance. There is no ranger station -- Schoodic is clearly the poor stepsister here at Acadia. Ran into Ed again, he said he was doing another walk in the park today but I think he was checking to see if we made it out alive!

We made the 11 o'clock water taxi from Winter Harbor.  The two guys who crewed The Katherine were dog people -- so much so that I was sure if the boat started to sink, Buster and Mitchel would get the first life jackets.

The ride over -- about an hour -- was spectacular, weaving among small islands and endless florescent floats that mark the lobster traps.  Another perfect day --calm seas, not a cloud in the sky.  Driving into Acadia last week, I didn’t really appreciate the drama of Mt. Desert Island (MDI as they call it here).  Coming at it from the bay is stunning.  Two cruise ships were anchored in Frenchman Bay, and a four-masted schooner was sailing into the harbor just behind us.  Add to that all the whale-watching excursions, puffin-watching excursions, pleasure craft, and lobster boats (Bar Harbor is a real working harbor) and you start to get the idea of how overwhelmed we three were after our lovely solitude of the days before.  On a long weekend, at the height of "leaf peeping" season, with an antique car rally in town and good weather forecast through Sunday, you can understand I was reminded of the opening scene from The King and I when Anna steps off her ship...into bedlam.

Tied the dogs up at the pier and went in search of pay phones.  Beth Ann had found two pets-ok hotels, but they were both booked.  Finally checked with the visitors center and they found me what had to be the last room in town.

The Ledgelawn Inn is a 100 year-old Victorian manse with a "carriage house" out back especially for guests who travel with their pets.  (The dog next door has been howling incessantly for hours -- it's so cool not to be the owner of the worst-behaved dogs in the place.)  I have a huge corner room with a beautiful old four-poster bed -- over which I've draped my tent and rain-fly since I didn't dry them out yesterday. Ledgelawn's rooms and common areas are decorated in the Victorian style -- except for the bathrooms which seem to have undergone an unfortunate renovation in the early 70s. The only comparison on the ugly-scale is to a motel Michaela and I once stayed in along the interstate in Arkansas.  We stopped there because the rooms were advertised as having whirlpools, which turned out to be a couple of noisy jets in a scary brown bathtub...

 Skipped high tea on the veranda and headed straight over to the Internet cafe where I spent a frustrating few hours.  Managed to update the journal, download pics from the camera, and answer e-mail, but not much else.  May go back tomorrow to try again with some of the software downloads.

I'm sure you're all wondering if I got to eat a lobster for dinner -- and the answer is no.  I ate TWO.  That's right, last night I had a protein bar and some water, tonight I had lobster and coleslaw and corn and french-fries.

Went to the camping store -- no tent poles.  They claimed they don't stock the poles because they come in so many different sizes -- I assumed it was some sort of conspiracy.  I went back to the Internet cafe and wrote the folks I bought the tent from and asked them to send a replacement to me c/o Beth Ann.  We'll just hope my little McGyver workaround holds up a few more days.  It's supposed to turn nasty here tomorrow night so we'll be testing my tent-erecting skills as well as the tent-maker's waterproofing claims.  Did manage to stock up on candles, matches, and other stuff for the week ahead.

Finally, tried to do laundry but got there too late -- will have to try again in the morning because I'm running out of wearables...

Buster sits under a tree, staring at me sorrowfully. He cannot understand why I have taken all of our food -- HIS food -- and elected to hoist it in the air from a tree limb. To tell you the truth, I'm not so sure myself. Beth Ann says I need to do it to keep the bears away -- but it seems like an invitation to a pinata party for every other creature in the forest...and sure enough, as darkness falls, we're hearing sounds from outside the tent that are terrifying me and actually keeping two very tired dogs WIDE awake. It is going to be a long night.

Started out this morning from Prospect Point. Hated to leave the cabin, but it was too beautiful to stay indoors. Good roads all the way to Birch Harbor -- a little crossroads I would have loved to find during the needier times of the past few days. At the little food mart, wandered the aisles overwhelmed at the abundance, ending up with some turkey and cheese for the dogs, and a cold Orange Crush for me.

Took advantage of the phone and Post Office before setting out for the little corner of Acadia National Forest that sits on the Schoodic Peninsula. Best walk of the trip so far. Not just the views -- a postcard scrolling by -- but a nearly empty two-lane road that loops the park with all traffic going one way.

Met some folks from CA who had the cutest (is there any other kind?) four-month old black lab. She's training him to be a guide dog. Gave her the web site address in hopes she'll send the pics she took. Even with the timer, it's been hard to get pics of the three of us.

Walked about 1/2 mile with a lovely gentleman, Ed Pert, from Georgetown, ME. He comes up here each spring and fall to visit the park and friends nearby.

We have made camp just a mile or so from the Park gate at Winter Harbor -- didn't want to get any closer to the gate since camping isn't allowed here -- and didn't want to get into Winter Harbor itself since it doesn't seem like the kind of place you can pitch a tent in. Keep hearing cars up on the road -- it's after dark so I'm guessing it's the park ranger out looking for strays. We're pretty well hidden down a hill so should be ok.

Couldn't get the stove working again. Maybe I'll look for a more reliable one tomorrow in Bar Harbor. Tomorrow, we'll catch the water taxi over to Bar Harbor and start the hike around to Bass Harbor in the hopes of catching a ferry to somewhere. Ed suggested I stick to the carriage roads on the island (funded by Rockefeller in the 30s to encourage tourism)(the island gets more than 3 million visitors a year now)(those must be some great roads). Ed's uncle was part of the Civilian Conservation Corp unit which built some of the island's infrastructure.

Hopefully, a stop at the Internet cafe in Bar Harbor will get me "wired."

Baby Got Back...The windbreaker pullover I'm wearing has a little pouch in the back that I've been using for my day-pack: dog treats, map, sunglasses, etc. This morning, caught a glimpse of myself reflected in a window -- it looks like I have the world's largest butt...No wonder all the cars slow down to pass me.

Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, dear Rhonda. Happy Birthday toooooooo yoooooo.

Was it the best night of sleep I ever had in my entire life? Judge for yourself: In the middle of the night, the dogs woke me from a dead sleep. I pulled on clothes and stumbled outside, actually missing having a tent flap I could just unzip for them instead. Back inside, I glanced at the clock, wondering if I should just go ahead and get up for the morning. It was 10:12 PM -- I had been asleep approximately 10 minutes...

Back at the Bluebird for breakfast while the nice lady at the hotel lets me do a load of laundry. Tried calling KP twice from the restaurant last night and got voicemail both times. Will try again this morning, but if I don't get her, it'll be another couple of days judging from the emptiness of the map ahead.

Next stop, Corea. The fabulous weather is due to hold for another couple of days so I'm in a hurry to get back out!

As I write this, I am simmering a pot of hearty stew on a beautiful old O'Keefe and Merritt white enameled gas stove (with matching salt and pepper shakers which slot into little holders next to the oven timer). I have a fire blazing in the hearth, burning driftwood that I collected this afternoon as I walked along the rocky shores of Prospect Harbor. As night falls, I am waiting for the lighthouse across the harbor to be lit. The dogs are sleeping at my feet. Am I hallucinating? I wouldn't rule it out -- but here's what I think happened...

Carolyn, the proprietress of the Seagull Motel had offered to let me do a load of laundry. It turns out there IS a Laundromat in Machias, but since I just had the one load...Anyway, while I was waiting for the clothes, I asked her what I should see next. She said not to miss Schoodic Bay -- and mentioned that her boyfriend's mother had a place near there. "Would she be interested in renting it out?" Carolyn said she didn't know. What I've discovered about Maine-iacs is that they don't finish conversations the way we do. I thought her "I don't know" was a polite "no" when in fact, it was an "I'll check."

This morning, Jim and Carolyn (my new best friends) drove me to Prospect Harbor. The road wound through a fir forest to a red shingled wood cabin nestled in the pines. Big windows look out over water, just a few hundred feet away. All afternoon I watched the lobster boats in and out of the harbor and wished I had thought to have Jim and Carolyn stop at a grocery store. As it was, I had stew and baked the rest of my wild apples in the fireplace.

Spent hours on the phone trying to coordinate my life long-distance. Bottom line, I'll need to get online somewhere (maybe the Internet cafe that KP and I saw in Bar Harbor) to download the software I need to run my handheld. Talked with BAJ to catch up -- can't believe the US women lost in World Cup...so sad.

Talked with Lavely (The Cat Wrangler):

Whiz is still alive...and still glad NOT to be hiking like some kind of dog...

Surprisingly warm this morning and clear. It rained a little last night but we stayed dry and warm. Still have not had our test of foul weather -- and I'm fine with that.

Surrendering to Maine's disdain of public laundering facilities, I've decided to change into my only other clean pair of clothes -- still, less than satisfying since I can't do better than a sponge bath. I wonder if I would have a heart-attack if I jumped in one of the rivers we're sure to pass today?

Yesterday, found a handle from a plastic bucket and -- feeling like a genuine homeless person -- threw it on top of my cart. Then last night, used every tool in my Leatherman to cut off the plastic grip and put a "band aid" on my broken tent pole. It held through the night, at least.

When I'm pushing the cart, it looks like those wooden bulls on wheels that they use to train young bullfighters. When I pull the cart, I look suspiciously like Tevyah in the final scene from "Fiddler on the Roof."

For the third night in a row, we've camped at the foot of a big hill which we will have to climb to start our day. Note to self: Try stopping on the TOP of a hill...

Also, I seem incapable of determining flatness -- I keep pitching the tent on what appears to be flat ground but reveals itself in the night to be a terrestrial roller coaster.

Oddly enough, the coast of Maine reminds me a lot of the Caribbean -- where the shoreline is particularly rocky. This morning, I'm drinking my coffee looking out over Little Machias Bay and the way the sun is lighting up all the small islands as far as the eye can see reminds me a lot of the view from Great Camano. The weather is similar, too! Already I've shed turtleneck and sweater for short sleeves, and left off the windbreaker.

The dogs are --quite rightly -- miffed at their small ration of water this morning. To show her displeasure, Mitchel attacked the spout on the water jug. Now, like all of my other equipment, it looks very well used...

Found an overpass where 191 crosses Spring Brook, figured there would be enough privacy underneath to do some laundry and take a bit of a bath myself. Figured wrong. Just as I was rinsing, heard the beep of a car horn, signaling that the alarm on a car had been set. I am at a place of such "odiferocity" in my life that I just thought "enjoy the show" and finished what I needed to do.

Climbed back up to find a minivan with two nice tourists from Michigan who let me use their cell phone. Left Kristie an "I'm still alive" message which I hope she gets (sounded kind of fuzzy from my end). The ladies from MI had AT&T service --the one phone I didn't bring...

Have some clothes drying on the guardrail (very hobo right now) as I sit looking across Little Machias Bay at the Naval Communications Center -- clearly where the Navy sends you when you've been bad. It's a radio tower farm on a bare spit of sand. I had seen the towers yesterday and got all excited thinking they were cell towers (dozens of cell towers in the middle of nowhere?). Hard to believe, but Cutler was probably on the Ruskie's top-ten list during the cold war (check that out for me, Beth Ann).

Clothes drying fast in the sun and wind, think I'll meander on...

Picked some more apples from a wild roadside tree. Johnny Appleseed -- pleased at the proliferation or dismayed by the number of trees abandoned to drop their fruit for rot? Discuss.

I write this from a cozy window booth at the Bluebird Ranch Family Restaurant -- or as I like to call it, "Heaven." Coming down 191 into East Machias, about four this afternoon, Buster started to lie down from time to time and give me the look of death. I was hoping for a motel.

The first gentleman I asked about motels told me to go to Machiasport -- just a few miles past Machias and --- according to him -- nicer. Nicer? He was quite old so I could understand him not being able to see me -- but couldn't he smell me? "Nice" was not on the table. When I asked him to show me where we were on the map, he told me that from his kitchen window you could see South America -- I'm hoping he meant you could reach it if you went in a straight line... He also asked me to do him a favor when I got back home and shoot "that Blair fellow." Of course I agreed, assuming that he meant Tony Blair and we've gone to war with the United Kingdom in my absence...I was a little saddened of course. I always kind of liked Tony. He looks like whatshisname from the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The next person I asked, also an elderly gentleman, knew of no motels locally-- but a couple of nice "rooming houses" about three miles down the road. He wasn't sure the rooming houses took dogs and I wasn't sure the rooming houses existed other than in his memory.

The third man I asked was wiring a satellite dish -- which I took to be a sign from God. He said the only hotels were in Machias, another five or six miles away. Buster gave him the "Save me from this death march" look and the nice man offered us a ride. If I weren't so tired, I would have jumped up and down from happiness. Buster got to ride in a pick-up truck so it was pretty much the best day of his life. The nice man deposited us at the first motel we came to -- clearly, the local no-tell motel. Seriously, I'm looking out the window at it right now and it doesn't have a name. It also doesn't have phones in the room, enough hot water, satellite TV, free shampoo, or a hair dryer AND I DON'T CARE. I am so indescribably happy to have indoor plumbing and soap.

Apparently, I also have a new friend. Just when I got out of the shower, the man who had given us a ride into town knocked on my door. He wanted to show me HIS dog. Awwww.

At the Bluebird, I am treating myself to a steak (just missed the last lobster --- grrrr!) (OK, little aside: KP, where were we when we were discussing how the mixed-greens salad has now reached the farthest corners of America? I just got served the iceberg-lettuce-shaved-carrots-cherry-tomatoes salad of yesteryear...)

I am wearing long johns, a wool turtleneck, and windbreaker pants and a pullover. The people in the booth across the aisle are wearing shorts.

Two men just came in and asked the waitress if they were "too late." "No," she told them, "we're still open" It's 7:20 p.m.

So from time to time, the state of Maine smells like balsam fir and the views to the sea (and South America) are inspiring, and they eat lobster like peanut butter...all in all, a lot to love. But would it kill them to put a 7-11 every 100 miles or so?

My room at the motel is a hoot -- it looks like the REI catalog exploded. In addition, I have something plugged into every outlet -- cell phones, computer, camera, etc. And two very tired dogs sound asleep already...

We’re on an inlet next to a cute little waterfall where I replenished our water supply. Even after filtration, the water is a suspicious orange...

With this morning's use of the filter pump, I have now used ALL of the equipment I brought. Even managed to get the stove working, which was good because I woke up this morning feeling lurgy -- achy with no energy. Realized I hadn't eaten before passing out last night. So this morning, a feast! Started with reconstituted pears (are they really "reconstituted" if they're crunchy?), a protein bar, ramen noodles, and the best cup of coffee EVER.

A note to the Coleman company who made my little tin mess kit -- what were you thinking? The soup pot is half an inch too small for the brick of ramen noodles...don't you think that should have been covered in your research?

Frost on the tent when we woke up this morning. Mitchel's teeth were chattering which was very funny -- I didn't know dogs could do that. She didn't appreciate me laughing at her.

Another gorgeous day. I'm letting the sun dry out the tent before we set off again. Buster seems good for only about seven hours so there's no need to get started before late morning.

Last night we made camp too early -- I fell asleep right away but then woke up a few hours later and didn't get back too sleep for a while.

Across the inlet from our campsite is a dock which the local lobstermen use to moor the smaller boats that ferry them back and forth to their sea-going boats. They were highly amused by Buster standing on the opposite shore barking at them. I think he wanted to go along. I can see him as a lobster boat dog, decked out in his yellow foul-weather gear...

Speaking of barking, we were awakened in the middle of the night by howling. I convinced myself it was not the wolf pack it sounded like -- but Buster and Mitchel looked a little scared and neither of them made a sound!

Route 191 which we were on yesterday and will stay on today, is ideal -- paved, but a car only every 20 minutes or so. The locals slow down to stare as they drive by, but then wave and move on. I can only imagine what they're saying!

Still no service on the Sprint or Nextel phones. The solar-powered charger is only having to juice the computer and digital camera -- so doing a fine job. How do people live without cell phones? Quite happily, I'm guessing.

191 ambles from cove to cove, each more relentlessly charming than the last. I've stopped taking pictures out of fear of redundancy. As it ambles, 191 goes up and down a (thus far) endless number of hills. The downs aren't so bad -- mostly just a struggle to hold onto a cart that weighs more than I do. The ups are hell, especially as we seem to be playing chicken with unseen traffic coming toward us over the crests. Some of the hills are high enough to warrant names. Yesterday, we climbed Squaw Cap (or as the locals call it, "Headdress of an adult, female, Native-American). At the bottom of nearly every hill is a stream where the dogs swim and get water so I have not had to carry for them.

Drawback of bringing along a computer: In the daylight, I can see my reflection. The hair is astounding. I could use a squaw cap. I could use a shower.

In response to many queries, let me just clear up one thing: I did NOT bring along the cat. Whiz (or as she has been renamed by her foster mother, "Pee") is spending this semester in Charlottesville, auditing classes at UVA. She's very happy not to be sleeping outdoors with the rest of us, but has been good about sending encouraging e-mails to Buster and Mitchel.

Buster has been busy marking the state of Maine. I think he's realized that this is a bigger challenge than he's had before -- he's stopped lifting his leg to pee, just squats like a girl. The glucosamine-chondroitin seems to be working -- no limping so far.

Saw our first moose! A big fella with antlers and everything, crossing the road about 1\4 mile ahead of us. Tried to take a picture but needed both hands to keep Buster from running down to make friends.

Trying to make Cutler... Not going to. Did stop a man to ask how far it was -- another four miles which I would try for except he says there's nothing there -- no gas station, no hotel. Why bother naming the place? Nothing until Machias which is another 15 miles past Cutler. I explained that I was rolling on two flat tires and he drove down the road to fetch a friend of his with a portable air pump. Hurray! It makes a big difference in the way the chariot rolls.

Still too soon to stop for the night although it won't be much longer. It looks like my run of good weather is over: storm clouds on the horizon and definitely colder. Dogs are tired so maybe we'll go one more hill and call it a day.

Found some apples growing wild by the side of the road, been munching on those whenever we stop. I suppose a little fresh fruit now and again won't kill me...

Tonight we managed to time camp just about right -- set up while it was still light, but everyone now tucked in and dark enough to sleep. Were on the other side of Cutler -- and another disappointment. Cutler is listed on the map as the site of "the Maine Lobster Hatchery" and a charter boat company, it is also the nearest town to the Bold Coast trails. We passed the trailhead but didn't take it -- the trail is a nine mile loop (so no closer to Key West) and the trail is "rugged" which clearly the chariot is not built for. Instead we pressed on to Cutler-- getting there just as they were lowering the flag at the post office -- yes, Beth Ann, I walked right past one! Was at least going to go inside to see if they had a pay phone -- but like gas stations, motels, and Laundromats, it's just not a priority for the fine folk of Maine.

Gotta say, Maine's coast is amazing, but inland is nothing special. The land is mostly covered by a reddish-brown scrub which seems ugly until you learn (as I did) that those are wild blueberry bushes.

My goal has been to keep the Atlantic on my left -- knowing full well that this will not always be possible. Still, I can't really afford to walk up and around every bay, harbor, sound, river, and cove. Instead, I'll try to find passage across. So far, with Machias Bay, no luck. I did see a car for sale by the side of the road and was a little bit tempted to make an offer...

Hope I get faster at this! It took me an hour to break camp and get on the road this morning...

Yesterday, I met some hikers who told me the hardest part of the coastal trail was ahead of me. Turns out they were not speaking metaphorically. I'm having to empty the chariot, hump one load at a time over the next half mile, then come back for more. I figure it will take me the rest of the day.

On the good news front, had a wheel come off yesterday but managed to find it -- and more miraculously, the small black wing nut that holds it in place. Both of my big tires are flat, so I'll need to find an air pump (thought I had packed one but can't find it...)

Other good news, KP made me buy gloves yesterday and I would not have made it without them--not so much for warmth but because I was dragging myself up inclines by grabbing hold of roots and bushes. I've still got blisters but nothing like it would have been without gloves. This morning, the dogs found one glove that I had lost in the night (and by "found" I mean were in the process of destroying when I caught them).

Speaking of dogs, they were restless on our first night tenting. Finally negotiated that I would sleep in the middle with one on each side. Speaking of sleeping, I was positively TOASTY! Those Mountain Hard Wear people are a little disorganized but they make a good sleeping bag. By the way, KP, that mesh bag was just for transport. Turns out there was a stuff-sack inside that reduced the bulk greatly.

It took four trips but I managed to unload all the gear and then pull the empty chariot over the last half mile of the Coast Trail. It was such a spectacle that a lobster boat out on Carrying Cove stopped and all the lobstermen came out on deck to watch. At some point, buzzards were circling overhead which I resented greatly. Just when I thought the trail was too much for me, I passed a couple in their 70s at least and it embarrassed me into finishing.

Got all the gear repacked and discovered that the nut for the front right wheel had come off again...Hiked back up the trail and -- truly a miracle -- managed to find it in a half mile of mud, rocks, roots, and waist-high grass.

On an actual road at last -- although it does not seem to have a name -- maybe eight miles. My goal was the only town shown on the road -- South Trescott. Had to check the map five or six times because when we turned onto 191, the sign said north. Strange but true: I'll be traveling north and west for a while before I can go south. Life lesson? No, just geography.

For the whole afternoon I motivated myself by imagining what South Trescott would offer...in order: >a gas station with air hose (I am still traveling on two flat tires) >a motel so I could get on the phone and figure out this computer thing >a Laundromat -- I stink! >a camping store (stove doesn't work, tent pole broken) (KP predicted this, but I bet she didn't think it would happen the first day) >a lobster and steak restaurant >an Internet cafe so I could upload some pictures.

South Trescott had nothing, so we are camped by the side of the road. Buster refuses to go farther.

Quoddy Head State Park. The easternmost point in the US in the easternmost city in the US (Lubec, Maine), in "Sunrise County, USA" (Washington County) (although there's a mountain in Acadia National Park that supposedly sees the sunrise before any of the aforementined claimants).

Coast Trail.. Two and a half miles of twisting, narrow, rocky hell {except where it was muddy, and so muddy hell}.. Tested all my equipment as well as my will to live. Physically, the most demanding four hours I've endured in my liffe -- all to gain two miles. Fortunately, every time I lay on the ground gasping for air, I could look up to see a woth-it-all view of the Grand Manan Channel.

Then it started to rain. The rain gear works well and the boots reallly are waterproof , right up until you step in water that is deeper than the boots are tall...

Tried the dogs in their harnesses-- they did fine but iit was too hard to get them to pull up the trail with all the side to side angling needed to clear the wheels over rugged terrain, so they'll have to wait to be sled dogs until we're on flat ground.

Started camp too late, had to set up the tent in the dark. Thank goodness for Kristie's tutorial. Still didn't get it right and I know I'll laugh when I see it in the morning -- if I live 'til then...was I supposed to put all the food up in a tree to keep the bears away?

Too tired to cook. Everything hurts. Dogs are asleep already -- so much for protection! Still, I've pitched my tent on a cliff above the ocean and I will fall asleep to the sound of rocks tumbling on the shore, and a small stream that runs past the tent and spills over a cliff to join the water below.