I’ve been in place for so long that it’s difficult to know where to begin. Originally, I was to stay two weeks in Jonesport, Maine but making a connection pushed it to three. During this time, I’ve seen perhaps five sunny days so I’m pretty well ready to move on from the coast. Unpredictable deep fog comes and goes across the area creating dangerous visibility for biking on narrow roadways, and slippery conditions on rocky hiking trails. This has had me discovering the ins and outs of every pathway in town on foot and reading books galore from the library sale; yet I’m feeling quite sluggish in body and mind.
Thankfully, I’ve been sharing a house with a wonderful group of people (and two dogs who never bark) during most of the past few weeks: a quiet, young man in the Coast Guard here, an older gent pondering Maine homesteading, and a 30-something gal who has just begun roaming. It’s been good to have conversations with people who are also trying to define “home,” and who are grappling with the same concerns of climate change, the cost-of-living, political divisions, and geographic options. Now thoughts of communal living no longer feel out of the question.
Jonesport is a fishing and lobstering town of nearly 1,400 people about 50 miles south of the Canadian border. Take the bridge across Moosabec Reach and you land on Beals Island; while continuing south brings you to a gorgeous nature preserve on Great Wass Island. Fact: There is no other town named Jonesport in the entire United States.
Visit townofjonesport.com for details on its interesting history. My story continues via photos!
Cyclist, writer, teacher, avid reader, bike/ped advocate, nomad, pie lover