Blueberry Camp

Marshall Girls: Olivia, Kate, Kelsey, and the Mermaid

Day 45

It's another rainy morning, not the best weather for travel. We get everything loaded, clean up our guest room and hit the road by 9 am. Amy and Harold give us a warm send off with extra baggies for our things to keep them dry, concerns that we will be warm enough, advice on routes, and promises to give Dean a kiss from his mama when we see him. I think we will be home sick for these people whom we have only just met for a long, long while.

Blueberry Rake

We have breakfast in Lubec at the Wharf. Happily, this breakfast is worth the long wait. They have a view of the marina, and the very best Eggs Benedict I've ever had. We watch as the sky pours forth, and hope it passes. For this reason alone, we are happy that our breakfast takes as long as it does.

Today we are heading just down the road to Cherryville where we have some friends from Marshall. Kate and Kelsey blazed the trail up here 3 summers ago, and now Olivia is here too. They convene for “Blueberry Camp”, an experience comprised of living in a tight community of 18 people and 10 dogs, and “raking” fresh organic blueberries for about a month. Unlike North Carolina blueberries which grow on tallish bushes, Maine blueberries grow very close to the ground. The berries are small, and so are “raked” with something that looks like an extra long dust pan with teeth. This particular farm, Burke Hill, is the source for fresh packed organic blueberries. Most farms up here use machinery to harvest, and end up selling their yield in dried or frozen form.

We are in Cherryville in no time, and wait at a tiny grocery for Olivia to come and fetch us. Within five minutes of being there, the Pirate starts fiddling with the Girl, and in no time has her entire speedometer removed. A guy nearby asks me “you havin' trouble wid ya skoodah?” It takes me a second to wade through the Maine accent (remember, we've practically been in the south the last 3 days) to decipher “are you having trouble with your scooter”. No, I say, hoping the Girl did not hear him call her that.

Shoe and Kate

Olivia fetches us with her friend Heather and a dog, Ember. We head back to camp, get big hugs from Kate and Kelsey, pat at least 7 of the 10 dogs, park the Girl and ride back into town for groceries. Nobody rakes berries if it's wet out, the berries must be totally dry. Needless to say, everyone in camp was well aware of the weather and impending rest day, they have the hangovers to prove it.

In town, Olivia explains that getting out of camp is something everyone looks forward to, and that meandering alone through the grocery isles is a type of therapy. We get it. Grocery shopping migrates to having a 3 pm lunch, and pretty much stalling as long as possible before heading back.

Kelsey and Rocky

It is drizzling and misty and not the best weather for putting our tent up. The digs out here are welcoming, but not fancy. We set up our camp beside a stack of lumber a foot from the driveway. The Girl stands guard in front of us. As it begins to rain harder, we join in the collective camp past time of hiding out in our tent. We nap and look at maps. As it grows dark, we emerge and head down to the group's outdoor kitchen and communal area. We chat with a few people from home and realize we have pals in common. We pass our bottle of scotch around to no avail, these folks did their drinkin' last night. It turns out to be a lovely night with no rain, spent visiting with friends who are also far from home and mid-adventure.