I’m not sure exactly how it happened but just after we arrived in Maine things started to unravel a bit.
Oh, right. The rain. That was how it all began.
With a nod to Robert McClusky, one morning in Maine (our first morning in Maine) I got a message from a blog reader alerting me to a big storm that was blowing in. A really big storm. (Thank you, Hilary!) I woke the kids and we broke camp in a hurry, hoping to arrive in Acadia National Park before the roads started washing out.
We did.
But somewhere in the waking early and hustling up the coast, somewhere in the worrying about hurricane-fuels storms heading our way and feeling the wind bouncing us around on the road, we misplaced our groove.
We got grumpy. We lost our sparkle. The fridge door flew open on a corner and chicken and wild rice soup went everywhere. We got lost in a congested small town just as a cruise ship unloaded hundreds of people to wander out into traffic. I had to clear a clogged toilet with my bare hands.
It was that kind of day.
And then the rains came.
After a week on the road, we lost our groove.
Because you know, a tiny 20 foot vintage RV is quaint and adorable and funky and sweet. Until there are high winds and driving rain for days on end. It got a little tight. It also a little wet. I think it was after the second day of rain that I noticed that the window gaskets were giving way and water was pouring onto our bunk. Um. Yeah. That.
And you can tell me how much more memorable this trip will be because the camper started to leak and you’ll be right. But it also made for really wet pajamas and more grumpies than could comfortable fit in 20 feet.
So I circled back to where this all began.
Go with the flow.
Expect the unexpected.
Be kind.
Worry less.
And then - magically and right on cue - my parents arrived. Nanny and Bumpy to the rescue!
While we had not planned on the flooding we had planned to meet my parents in Acadia. And their 23 foot not-vintage RV felt downright luxurious after two weeks in our own. So did watching my kids play Uno with the grandparents and eating my mom’s cooking.
We exhaled.
My parents supplied us with a small heater to help dry out our mattress, bought me an atlas because “really-you-are-driving-cross-country-with-our-only-grandchildren-without-an-atlas?" and also some duct tape, just in case. We spent a few days together, exploring Acadia by car and by trail, and just enjoying the treat of time together on the road.
Did things stop going amiss? Of course not. But for a brief few days I had backup when they did. Say, when our keys got locked in the RV or when our shower overflowed. (Off the top of my head.) And then, like magic, our energy shifted.
Thank goodness.
And now? The sun is shining once more, our bunk is (mostly) dry, and we’re ready to see what unfolds out on the road this morning.
From somewhere in Eastern Maine, wishing you a beautiful Monday!
Love,
Rachel
You can keep up with our journey through my photo postcards here.