Go for the lobster, stay for…everything else.

Half a month after returning from a weeklong “family vacation” in Midcoast Maine (including my partner, my partner’s parents, and their adorable puppy dog), I’m feeling pretty confident about the cliché I’ve just summoned you all with to enjoy this great northerly state.

See? Nary an image of a tasty crustacean to be found in this introduction. (Don’t worry, lobster feasting tips to appear later.)

For now, I insist on sharing with you what first comes to my post-vacation mind when I close my eyes and think of Maine: a sea view, rocky shores with boats in the distance, and GREEN.

Building an enduring vision of Maine composed of omnipresent water, rocks, and trees is easy when you spend a week in a house painstakingly decorated in a nautical theme with a beach literally in its backyard.

No complaints here. Okay, the quaint spiral staircase turned maddeningly rickety real fast, but the sea-facing deck, along with other surprising luxury amenities such as a fully-equipped kitchen and grill, a SAUNA, and a private stone-laden trail to the beach more than made up for the architectural quirk slash nighttime water refill path hazard.

As did this first “Welcome to Maine, behold the beauty!” sunrise:

Setting the tone for the rest of our mornings in Maine, this inaugural vista inspired a simplified rising routine of leaving bed, collecting a warm beverage, and spending an unspecified amount of time on the deck contemplating nothing else but the everyday wonders of nature before us.

On a much less sunny day, we extended our expeditions northward. Taking on the moderately challenging terrain once again, I decided to put all that time staring at my feet toward becoming absorbed with composing a small but choice rock collection—a simple, meditative, and instantly gratifying activity for all ages.

Venturing on, we were greeted by more humble specimens of natural beauty in the form of wildflowers and grassy reeds—subjects a detail-dedicated person such as myself could (and tried very hard not to) spend hours photographing.

My sojourns in Maine repeatedly reminded me that there are “views” to behold everywhere, details big and small to be appreciated, and worthy lessons to learn from “doing nothing” and “just being.”

Given my previous self-description as one keen on the details (often exchanging panoramic shots for bokeh-ed out closeups of wildflowers), I am the person least likely to recommend a not-to-miss vista point for your upcoming travels.

That said, Mount Battie (in Camden Hills State Park) is in fact that sort of “not-to-miss” stop and warrants a leisurely visit if you find yourself anywhere near the area.

Sure, you can check off that “postcard shot” here. Sure, you can just enjoy the “views for days” here.

But while I did spend a fair amount of time snapping away with my camera, every time I looked out onto what looked like the giant arms of a furry, friendly land monster trying to collect all the little toy boats in his ocean-bathtub, I kept thinking, there’s a story here, somewhere. At one point I mused out loud, “See that little house tucked into the woods, right there? That is a story waiting to be written!” Maybe not too long of a story, maybe just a faint idea of one, short enough to fit on the back of a postcard. I wouldn’t hesitate to bring along a notebook or sketchbook here on a future visit.

Of more practical concerns, such as what’s for lunch?, this spot on Mount Battie is THE perfect location for a picnic of the tailgate variety. Ascending the mountain, you can drive right on up and into a small parking lot designated for such activities. Perch yourself on a rock or in a camping chair you cleverly packed, take a swig of something cool and bubbly, get up to stretch your legs and pilfer something to nibble from the car, and go on back to surveilling the seas, Captain.

Elsewhere in the park, there are trails and much more terrain to explore. As we spent most of our time mesmerized by the scene and rather attached to our picnic spread, we left those hikes for another time.

So here’s where I’m gonna go ahead and dive into a Life Lesson I fashioned for myself while traversing a trail to a lighthouse, no less.

Yes, it has something to do with the “path of life.” Yes, it’s cringe-y, but just roll with me here and you might just find it to be the reminder you needed today. Here goes:

[quoting my self talking to myself]

“If you try to walk across [the trail] in a perfectly straight line, you’re actually making it harder and take longer than if you were to just go to whichever next stone is easiest to step onto. Even when your movements look all wonky from all the skipping around and going sideways and it feels like you’re never gonna get there, don’t feel like you have to keep to that straight line. You’ll get there anyway, at some point. Honestly, no one’s timing you, nor do they care to. Don’t make things harder than necessary, and just enjoy the exercise.”

Yeah? Interpret/apply/ignore as you wish, and now please enjoy a few requisite lighthouse visit photos:

Okay, so I didn’t take too many photos of the lighthouse, and you probably don’t want/need to see all the other ones I took of the jigsaw puzzle stone path (close up! high angle! low angle! the edges! the angles!). I think that’s when I was really contemplating that Life Lesson I just graced you with.

Anyway, another teachable anecdote of sorts: The narrow dirt path that led from the parking lot to the lighthouse trail was actually quite pretty and I daresay more interesting to me, personally, than the main attraction. Dotted with cheery summer blooms and apple trees heavy with fruit, this little preamble was a total “Carla spot” I could easily have just chilled in for a few hours. I mean, you know, I had to go through the “path of life” and learn my lessons and all that, but also: don’t forget to savor unexpected beauty along the way, before you think you’ve even begun your journey!

Speaking of unplanned delights, our spur-of-the-moment decision to hike around Fernald’s Neck Preserve certainly fits the bill. Similar to what I experienced at the Rockland Lighthouse trail, I found myself already enraptured while standing at the entrance to the nature preserve.

Every guidebook tells you not to miss The Foliage in autumnal New England. Coastal Maine advertising campaigns implore you year-round to place yourself “where the mountains meet the sea.”

Might I just humbly add: mind the meadows. Oh, the meadows. Meadows I would frolic through were I not allergic to (extended contact with) grass and terrified of ticks.

See the meadows. Be the meadows. Paint the meadows. Mental Note: pack plein-air painting supplies for next time.

A simply carved wooden sign gently pulled me out of my reverie and reminded me of our purpose for that day. And so off we went into the woods, guided every so often by the easy-to-spot color-coded trail markers.

This hike revealed to me just how little time I’ve spent in wilderness outside California, and how wonderfully enchanting the most mundane details can seem when you’re coming across them for the very first time. In addition to pondering Balance Rock’s predicament and playing peekaboo with Megunticook Lake, I could not stop exclaiming over every new kind of mushroom I spotted, how comfortably springy the layered ground felt beneath me, and Oh look! A deer!

As with the lighthouse trail, I’ll spare you the bajillion other shots I took of commonplace details such as moss, mushrooms, and solidly-built footbridges that my partner and I immediately and unquestioningly attributed to Maine Craftsmanship. Here instead are some snapshots of how we rewarded ourselves after the hike (beer + a lakeside picnic!):

By the way, I’m now more closely noticing the “Staycation Land” moniker on the Baxter beer can, which I’ve come to recognize as the local brewery’s reference to its home state’s longstanding “Vacationland” nickname. Wouldn’t want to leave if I lived here, either.

While “in nature” activities comprised most of our weeklong stay in Midcoast Maine, we also took the opportunity to poke around town to get a feel for how New England does “seaside village.”

First up was Camden, the nearest bustling town to our base in Lincolnville.

Owing partly to COVID-19-related concerns and partly to a preference for soaking up the good weather outdoors, on this visit we mostly enjoyed Camden as we could enjoy it from its streets.

We still found plenty to be delighted by around town, including this whimsical footbridge we stumbled upon after a futile hunt for ice cream—it was right next to the (sadly, closed) shop:

We rounded out our little jaunt into town by heading toward the Camden Public Library, which offers all visitors an adjacent outdoor amphitheater replete with leafy shade and built-in reading nooks.

Across the street is grassy Camden Harbor Park for sunny-day picnics or a spot of studying, while just up the slope is a gushing waterfall created by the 200-year-old Montgomery Dam.

Closer to the immediate harbor area, a row of benches invite one to sit quietly by oneself or with a friend, and perhaps, in the pauses, to also enjoy the passing clouds and their reflections on the water.

You gotta work real hard not to feel “nature’s embrace” around here.

Downtown Rockland

On another day, following up our excursion to the Rockland Breakwater Lighthouse, we made our way into Rockland proper, the “art capital of Maine.”

As with our time in Camden, we mostly stuck to appreciating Rockland’s artfulness from the sidewalks, so any of my future trips to this town will have to involve museum-going and art supply shopping—plenty places for which I have already duly noted.

At long last we arrive at the part of this travel journal (thanks for hanging in there!) where I speak about the defining delicacy we all come up here for: LOBSTAH. It was with great naiveté (and a general vacay mindset laziness) that I embarked on this trip with nothing but the daily hunt and relishing of $5 (ha!) lobster rolls on my personal agenda.

How exactly I came to expect these luxurious seafood sandwiches to cost as much as a Happy Hour pint at my friendly neighborhood bar remains a mystery; nonetheless it was with this unfounded pre-trip notion of Maine that I descended upon Midcoast, eyes darting around in anticipation of all-terrain food trucks coming out of nowhere to roll up beside my beach towel, ready to dole out lobster rolls in taco-like plates of three.

Sadly, these things have yet to be invented. Happily, our Lincolnville vacation stay was mere minutes away from two lobster shacks (Lobster Pound and McLaughlin’s), both serving up Maine-style mayo-infused lobster rolls ready to enjoy where all summertime meals in these parts ought to be enjoyed—outdoors!

“Home” Cooking

In addition to sampling freshly prepared lobster and oysters at nearby restaurants, we did a fair bit of grocery shopping at the local supermarket (Hannaford) as well as at quaint little markets such as the Lincolnville General Store (up inland a bit) and Dot’s Market (just off the coastal highway).

We also had the special opportunity to cook for and with my partner’s folks, indulging in baked Maine Atlantic salmon, grilled meats and vegetables, and a full-on lobster feast for our final night at the ship house.

I really appreciated the balance of outdoor dining, takeaway, and home-cooking we managed on this trip, which I would absolutely recommend to anyone exploring Maine for the first time (especially given the always-evolving COVID-19 situation). Cooking with in-season, locally-sourced/grown ingredients (of which there are plenty to find in Maine!), especially, deepened my travel experience and allowed me to exercise my creativity while participating in a group activity. And, I’ll gladly use any level of kitchen equipment I can get my hands on when traveling, anyway, even if it’s just to fry up eggs for breakfast or heat up restaurant leftovers.

I certainly hope that there are more travels to Maine (Midcoast and beyond) in store for me. While writing and researching this travel journal, I noted several ideas I would love to explore on a future trip. Here they are, in case you might find some inspiration for your next Maine trip as well:

I plan on updating this list as I come up with more ideas and resources, so feel free to bookmark and return to it at any point! With this travel journal, I do hope I’ve managed to paint an inviting picture of Midcoast Maine for you to enjoy over a cuppa or perhaps to even help you plan a future trip. Feel free to reach out to me with any comments or questions below—I’d be happy to share more!