Maine Weekend: Up at the Lake!

Sarah's extended family has their annual summer get-together around Fourth of July, up at "the camp"--a cottage up at a lake near Bangor (her extended family's ancestral home). She has been talking up this experience most of the time we've been dating--so this past weekend was going up for the festivities.

It's a fantastic place--a log cabin in a protected cove, looking right out on the lake. Here's the view from the screened-in porch...

...and much socializing goes on there (including relaxing on the porch swing):

We did loads of the classic camp activities: swimming off the dock, going out for a canoe ride, walking around the lake, making s'mores around the fire pit...

... my first solo attempt at kayaking...

... oh yeah, and making the food. I've demonstrated my passable kitchen chops enough times that the family decided that they "needed to initiate me" in the ways of a New England Clambake. Too cool... it involved a washtub basin sat on top of the fire pit, with clams, corn, potatoes, eggs, hot dogs, and lobster, all covered with a sailcloth to keep the steam in:

Seriously yummy stuff. Many lobsters were devoured, in a wonderful feast.

But you might wonder, "What the heck is up with those hot dogs?" They are red hot dogs, which are a Maine delicacy--and yet another thing that Sarah has been talking up all this time.

Yeah, more than a bit terrifying. First of all, they partially dyed the clam shells pinkish. Also, if you need to guide taxiing airplanes on the tarmac, you can wave a pair of these franks around.

After the big lobster fest, we picked the lobster for salads. Personal protective equipment was warranted.

One disturbing discovery made while swimming: I am buoyant only as long as I hold a breath in. I experimented by doing a face-up float, and my face stayed out of the water. When I exhaled (much like a whale exhaling through its blowhole), I sank right down. I have always thought of myself as a fat dude with loads of built-in buoyancy, bobbing away on the water... I'm wondering what's up with my current flotation levels.

Overall, it was a great weekend, although all too short--I am currently on the bus back to Boston on Monday afternoon. Unfortunately, this will be a hella busy week. But many thanks to all of Sarah's family, for their generosity and hospitality!


At 11:09 AM, Blogger j.ho said...

I don't think you're a fat dude. Rather, I think you're a short dude with thick bones and a lot of muscle mass, both of which are heavier than water. Hence, the sinking.

I love how the freaky hot dogs only died the edges of the clam shells. That's very cool.

At 1:45 PM, Blogger Christy said...

We always knew you were dense.

Re: the scary red hotdogs - do they taste different from regular hotdogs?

At 2:32 PM, Blogger Bats said...

Hahaha... rho(bats) = large!

The scary red hot dogs pretty much taste the same as normal hot dogs, as far as I can tell. A blind taste test might be warranted.


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