Morning Runs and Summer Races

Short and sweet, a morning run usually lasts 30 minutes to an hour depending on the day and weather conditions. My dog, Penny, wakes me up at o'dark early, so our day begins with a sunrise walk along the Kennebec, and then I put on my running shoes. I step out the side door, stretch a bit, and run less than a block before turning toward the river. The running views are so different from the walking views! When I'm walking with Penny, I like to take pictures of the boats, the buoys and, of course, the wildflowers, but when I'm running the images soften and blur like a Monet. It's really difficult to snap a photo when your feet are in motion, so I try to breathe in the beauty and save it to my hard drive, my collection of happy thoughts!

For a runner, the route is all important. In Illinois, I run along flat roads, but in Bath I run up and down hills, serious inclines that slow you down and make you sweat. It isn't always pretty! To quote Jackson Brown (Yes, I did see him in concert in the 1970's!), when I'm "running on empty," I simply look out on the water and fill up with all that morning glory! The endorphins usually kick in as I reach Bath's City Hall at the top of Front Street and round the corner to approach Waterfront Park. The short stretch through the park is one of my favorite places along my five mile route. Perhaps that's because it comes early, and it's so peaceful there that time of day. There's rarely a tourist in sight, but I always have a chance to say hello to the groundskeeper, and we agree that it's a great day to be in Bath! From the park, I loop back to Front Street and pass by the Patten Free Library, which for me is a sweet spot in Bath. Across from the library stands the rather new Hampton Inn, which is super convenient for travelers heading north on Route 1. My warm-up is complete at this point, and the real miles begin. I run north now on Front Street until it intersects with Washington and Drummond at the top of an incline which requires a glance to my right, to the Kennebec, as I continue north on Washington up towards the dead end with no turn around for large trucks. This is the prettiest part of my morning run. The views keep getting better and better! In my mind's eye, I'm gathering the flowers at the side of the road and saving a picture of a red canoe, and a boat house, and a front porch at the bend in the road. It all seems like a warm slice of cinnamon coffee cake! Yesterday, I decided in a short breath that I would have to return to this stretch of road to take pictures. Later that day, around 4 o'clock, I returned with Penny and my camera to capture the river's smile. At 50 something, I've learned you cannot trust your brain to remember all the details clearly. Photographs really do help!

 Like most runners, I feel a day or two younger at the end of a long run. That feeling never ceases to amaze me. I don't feel "newer" like the Hampton Inn on Commercial Street; rather, I feel refreshed like the old houses on Washington Street that have been purchased by new owners! I have to give credit to Sam Armentrout, the seller's agent for our Maine house, for sharing her intuitive wisdom with us. When Sam greeted Joe and I at the Bath Farmers Market for the first time last summer, she said "Old houses love new owners!" As fate and Bath would have it, she was right. There are quite a few new home owners along Washington Street. I see them as I run by their gardens and driveways, and they are certainly busy planting, painting, repairing and refurbishing. You can feel the endorphins of active people in motion! In some ways, Bath reminds me of a busy beehive, and we can always use more sweet honey!

Joe and I are a couple of early birds. Over a month ago we registered for Bath's annual 5 Mile Road Race on the Fourth of July because the first 50 runners to sign up receive a free t-shirt. Last summer five family members proudly wore the numbers 37 through 41, and we triumphantly put those free t-shirts on after the race! This year my son, Mark, and his girlfriend, Lauren, will be joining us. Competitive by nature, we've all been training hard. Knowing that, I am fairly certain that I will be the last of our daring group to finish, but I hope to PR (set a personal record). After all, it's the hopefulness that counts. Truth be told, Bath keeps me hopeful!

P.S. Next Bath Time, I will let you know how the 5 Mile Road Race turns out for our merry band of runners. May our feet take flight!

     

House and Garden Tour: 3 Anniversaries, 2 Weddings and 1 Room with a Loom

Flag Day, June 14th, is usually a beautiful day for flying Old Glory, celebrating anniversaries, walking down an aisle with someone you love, or creating art with your own two hands. On June 14, 2014, Joe and I launched our second summer in the Maine house by going on the Sagadahoc Preservation, Inc.'s 12th Annual House and Garden Tour. For the first time, SPI's tour left the City of Bath and chose to spotlight the "Architectural Gems & Hidden Gardens of Phippsburg." It was a good and timely decision because Phippsburg is celebrating their bicentennial this year. Such a significant historic event deserves an anniversary party, and thanks to a committee of 14 history loving SPI members, headed by the talented Judy Barrington, and a score of well informed docents, SPI put on quite a show for a continuous stream of people on a picture perfect day. The entire event felt like a progressive brunch among good friends, but instead of serving blueberry pancakes, gracious hosts opened their doors to share quaint rooms, picturesque views, and insightful facts about the architectural details and family histories of their homes. The Kennebec River seemed to be overflowing with extraordinary, almost scandalous, stories! Who knew that the history of an 18th century house would sound a lot like a J. Courtney Sullivan novel (Maine, The Engagements).

Jackie Hogg and John Atkinson, the charming English couple who own and operate The 1774 Inn at 44 Parker Head Road, had some lively tales to tell about Pre-Revolutionary War America. History tells us that sailors and shipbuilders are legendary risk takers. The McCobb-Hill-Minott House, now the 1774 Inn, has a colorful history that illustrates that notion. According to Jackie, the Georgian mansion was originally the property of James McCobb, a successful merchant, who landed on the peninsula in 1731 and bought up much of the land that is now Phippsburg. He had his elegant home along the Kennebec River built for his second wife. Yesterday and today, numbering wives usually foreshadows family drama, and so it was for the McCobbs! For James McCobb there was a third wife, who upon his death altered his will and claimed his mansion as her own so that she and her son, Mark Hill, could remain there.  This selfish act ignited a scandal because Thomas McCobb, James' son from his second wife, was at sea when it transpired. With revenge in mind, Thomas built a new, and even grander mansion, "The Spite House," across the road. Ironically, Mark Hill grew up to marry his stepsister, Mary McCobb, and partnered with his stepbrother, Thomas, in shipbuilding and ship ownership to create an enduring legacy. Charles Minott later purchased the grand house and its nearby shipyard in 1854 and went on to build 34 more vessels, including the last commercial wooden full-rigged ship built in North America. Visiting the 1774 Inn today is like stepping back in time. There is a Linden tree on the front lawn which was planted in 1774. Its graceful branches seem to reflect the long and intriguing history of this daring community. Our docent, Mr. Minott (not a ghost, but possibly related to Charles Minott) described the inn's back door as a "witch door" because it had both Roman and Greek crosses on it to ward off evil spirits. Personally, I found the "Woodshed Room,"tucked in a corner on the ground floor to be the most enchanting part of the house. This hideaway room opens up to a private verandah facing the Kennebec River. Now, that is what I call "magic!" Jackie told me it is by far the most popular room at the inn. On June 14th, it was reserved for a couple celebrating their anniversary (anniversary #2). I uncovered this fact surreptitiously by reading a note from the innkeeper on the nightstand. (Sorry, hand-written notes left on nightstands are simply irresistible!) Finding best wishes for a happy anniversary was a very sweet discovery at The 1774 Inn!

Anniversaries usually follow weddings, but on the SPI tour, the opposite proved true. The Sebasco Harbor Resort, down east on the Main Road, offered us a glimpse of our first wedding of the day. We spied a young woman carrying her coral bridesmaid dress to her cottage. A few minutes later we saw two men setting up 100 white chairs on the lawn overlooking the harbor. Later that afternoon the wedding guests would enjoy the same water view that Eleanor Roosevelt enjoyed when she stayed at the Sebasco Lodge. Nathan Cushman, the baker from White Plains, New York who founded the Cushman Baking Company in Portland as well as the Oakhurst Dairy, added Sebasco's unique Lighthouse accommodations in the 1930's. The Sebasco estate, however, dates way back to 1767 when Henry Totman bought 500 acres from James McCobb. (That name sounds familiar!)

The present owner, Bob Smith, invested millions of dollars to give the resort a new facelift. The Pilot House Restaurant and the Fairwinds Spa may be wrinkle free, but the stunning harbor view remains unchanged. And God must truly bless June brides because not a single drop of rain fell that afternoon on the peninsula!

Love was definitely in the air because our tour uncovered a second wedding just a few miles up the road. Joe and I definitely enjoy fine details, so we move slowly on tours. Several hours into the SPI tour, we realized we were running out of time, so we advanced quickly to numbers nine and ten. We were especially drawn to 153 Fiddlers Reach Road because it strongly resembled our home on Washington Street, so we decided to make it our last stop. Cold Spring Farm was number 9 on our tour, and we discovered our second wedding of the day in its barn. Constructed of homemade bricks, the farm's main house was built in 1773 by William Lee, a former chimney pot maker from Yorkshire, England. Local historians tell us that Mr. Lee arrived in Boston Harbor with his wife and six children on December 16, 1773, the day of the Boston Tea Party. This is an amazing fact, and we only discovered it because of the in depth research of Jane Morse, an area resident who wrote most of the house tour program. When we met Jane earlier on the tour, I immediately thought of Morse High School in Bath. Names really do replicate around here! Well, in typical Maine fashion, the Lee family owned Cold Spring Farm from 1773 until 1895. Later, it fell into disrepair, but a direct descendant of William Lee, Mrs. Marie Forbes, purchased the farm in 1932 and restored it to its original grandeur. She also built the double barn. She actually found two exceptional barns, disassembled them, and brought them to Cold Spring Farm Road to be reassembled. This is the same barn that served as a wedding chapel for two people in love on  June 14, 2014. There is definitely a romantic thread here because William Lee, Jr. married the daughter of James McCobb, and James gave the newlyweds his island, Lee's Island, as a wedding gift. One can only imagine what spectacular gift today's couple received: Island Magic or a Cuisinart?

Finally, we reached 153 Fiddlers Reach Road, an address and a home that truly reminds me of "Fiddler on the Roof" tradition. And since family weddings are a seasonal topic, William Lee's daughter married Daniel Campbell in 1797. Six generations of the Campbell family resided on this property until selling it in 1957. Tradition! Today, this Federal-style home is owned by Roger and Marcia Clark, and I was delighted to meet them because if homes reflect our personality, we probably have a lot in common. As luck and Bath would have it, we do. (We have children who make music for a living!) After meeting Marcia at the top of the stairs, I turned to discover our last hidden gem of the day, a loom! The Clarks converted a bedroom into a weaving room, and Marcia's loom now owns the space. The Halycon yarn from Bath looks magnificent on that elegant machine! Marcia was quick to tell us that her loom had traveled with her from home to home over the years, but this 18th century colonial was the first to offer her a room solely for weaving. Every artist deserves their own space! Although I am not a weaver, as a Spanish teacher I have met outstanding Zapotec weavers in Oaxaca, Mexico. The Zapotecs told me about cochineal, their hidden treasure, a tiny insect that provides us with carmine, a crimson-colored natural dye. When I mentioned cochineal to Marcia, she knew the historical significance immediately, and that's when I knew I had found good people among the architectural gems and hidden gardens of Phippsburg! Priceless!

P.S. If you pay attention to numbers, you probably noticed we are one anniversary short. Anniversary number three is my heart's gem. If my mother and father were still on this Earth, June 14, 2014 would have been their 62nd Wedding Anniversary.      

Riding the Historic Highways to Bath

It is impossible for all roads to lead to Bath, but in summer all of my road-trips do indeed lead to Maine's Cool Little City! In just a few days, Joe and I will be packing up the car with shorts, t-shirts, running shoes, bathing suits, beach towels and flip-flops! Of course, we will also throw in to our 13 year old SUV two vintage chairs and an oak library table that we found at the Kane County Fair in Illinois over 20 years ago. It's clear we like to keep and treasure old things that serve us well! As we move to the future, however, we do not keep both feet stuck in the 20th Century; rather, we program the Garmin for our favorite destination, Washington Street, Bath, and joyfully set it on the dashboard of our old, but highly functioning automobile. Except for the GPS, this whole picture is reminiscent of National Lampoon's Vacation with Chevy Chase. Wait, there is another obvious difference: Joe is better looking than Chevy Chase!

To reach our Maine house, we will travel 1,125 miles. Ironically, our journey begins close to the terminus of historic Route 66, the "Mother Road" between Los Angeles and Chicago. Of all the historic highways that crisscross the United States, Route 66 is probably the most famous because of Nat King Cole's 1946 recording of Bobby Troup's song, "Get Your Kicks on Route 66." Here's a fun fact: "Route 66" was also recorded by Chuck Berry in 1961, the Rolling Stones in 1964, Michael Martin Murphy in 1989 and by John Mayer in 2006 ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg2EbJy-9dc). The universal appeal of Nat King Cole's  rhythm and blues hit inspired the iconic 1960's TV show Route 66,which starred Martin Milner and George Maharis. In auditioning for the pilot, Marty Milner had to out perform Robert Redford to play the part of a young, ivy league graduate who inherits his father's Corvette and sets out to find himself with one of his father's former employees, a defiant Hell's Kitchen orphan, played by Maharis. Although the show ran for only four years, it has become an important part of television history because it was filmed all over America, and it explored the changing mores and social problems of the 60's. A few miles after pulling out of our driveway, Joe and I will cross over Route 66, and I will invariably think of the countless travelers who have driven along open roads, chasing their dreams and looking for adventure in far away places. As air travel becomes increasingly unpleasant, I find it so freeing to press the pedal to the metal and accelerate on the highway! It feels like America the Beautiful all the way!

  Route 20 is the longest road in the United States.

Joe and I will also be riding along Historic Route 20, a.k.a. Main Street, on our road-trip to Bath. Route 20 is considered the longest road in the United States. Coast to coast, from Boston, Massachusetts to Newport, Oregon it runs 3,365 miles with only a brief break in signage at Yellowstone National Park. In Illinois, Route 20 passes through historic Galena, where General Ulysses S. Grant resided after the Civil War, and then continues along the Ulysses S. Grant Highway to the south side of Chicago and on to the Chicago Skyway which takes you to Indiana. Joe and I used to live in La Grange, Illinois, and La Grange Road is in fact Route 20. Now, that is what we call highway trivia! You have probably heard of the game "Trivial Pursuit." If you have ever taken a family vacation in a station wagon, especially if you were in the way back facing backwards, you know that trivia can save your mind! Okay, let's get back on the interstate. U.S. 20 passes through Cleveland, Ohio skirting along the south shore of Lake Erie. At this point of our trip, we test our mental acuity by naming the five Great Lakes. In order to do this successfully, we rely on our grammar school mnemonic "HOMES,"and then we laugh like little kids because we feel so smart! Historic Route 20 can actually trace its origin to animal paths, native American Indian trails and early turnpikes. In fact, it was once called the "First Western Turnpike" and later the "Cherry Valley Turnpike." Today, Route 20 intersects with I-90, and it was probably the construction of state thruways that ended the golden era of the historic routes, 66, 20 and 1 that take us from Chicago to Bath.  In the 1920's, when Henry Ford was producing his Model T, the first affordable automobile, Route 20 blossomed from East to West. In 1954, however, New York started building the New York State Thruway, and motor travel was forever altered. People quickly embraced fast and direct interstate highways over peaceful and winding roads. The scenic routes with gift shops, miniature golf, drive-in movies and wishing well motels seemed to quietly disappear into the old maps of history. But once upon a time, when our children were very little, Joe and I stopped at Avon, New York along Route 20 to visit with our Uncle George. It was there that Uncle George took my favorite picture of our three children in the middle of a wide open field on a sunny August day.

Avon, New York on Historic Route 20 - August, 1990

As Joe and I travel I-90 from Buffalo to Albany, and the Massachusetts Turnpike from Lee to Auburn, we continue to crisscross Historic Route 20. (Adding to our trivial pursuit, we hosted the rehearsal dinner for Lauren and Matthew's wedding in Sturbridge at Rovezzi's Restaurant on Route 20.) Finally, after traveling on 290, 495, 295 and I-95, we meet Route 1, the oldest highway serving the East Coast, in Brunswick, Maine. After our two day trek across eight states, that U.S. Route 1 sign looks like the entrance to our Yellow Brick Road to Oz! But after each trip, we arrive with more joy than fatigue, because from the front seat of our thoroughly modern SUV, we have seen snapshots of enduring beauty, the American landscape at its finest. From tall corn in Indiana to dairy cows and vineyards in upstate New York, from birch and maple trees in the Berkshires of Massachusetts to evergreen trees and beaches in Maine, we have seen a magnificent slice of America, and the view seems to calm my anxiety over the unknown future. Somewhere in the middle of our 1,125 mile journey, I begin to relax, and I feel a sense of well being. Faced with so much change on a daily basis, our ride along the historic highways to Bath, shows us that some sweet ingredients of life remain the same. Quite simply, the view out the car window on a road-trip to Maine makes me happy, especially when I am sitting next to Joe. Let summer begin. Let's take a ride to Bath!