Real Maine: Reality Check; Part 1

When I talk to people about Maine, it's usually about all the things you can do here.  Shop, eat, hike, bike, relax, swim, boat, and we'll do our best to accommodate whatever else you can think of.  But like everywhere in the world, there are truths and fallacies.  I have compiled a listing of some common misconceptions about Maine and the realities that real Mainers know.  

True:  there are moose in Maine

False:  moose are everywhere

No, moose are not running rampant throughout the state.  We don’t all have them wandering into the backyard barbeque or holding up traffic downtown.  Yes, there are moose here.  In fact, in some places, like Moosehead Lake (hence the name) and in the Katahdin region and in the space between like the 100 mile wilderness, they say moose outnumber people.  I live in the city, albeit a small city, but in my daily travels here I don’t encounter moose.  When I was growing up in southern Maine, there was a family legend about a moose trotting up into the yard one morning, very early, and peeking in the windows.  There was also a story about a moose on the golf course in Bangor during a tournament, but I’m not very clear on that one.

If seeing a moose is on your bucket list and one of the goals of your visit to Maine is to cross that one off, you will want to be certain that you will see a moose.  I suggest that you contact one of the great outfits that offer moose safaris or moose photo tours.  Here's a couple to get you started: Moose Photo Tours or Maine Moose Safari.  Google "moose tours" or visit the websites for the Moosehead Lake Chamber of Commerce or the Katahdin Area Chamber of Commerce.  

True:  you can visit the beautiful beaches of York and Ogunquit and you can have a great lunch in Boothbay Harbor overlooking it all and you can go on a whale watch from Bar Harbor.

False:  you can do that in one day

I read the reviews and forums on TripAdvisor.com and on Frommer’s to name a couple and I’m astounded at what people think they can accomplish in one 24 hour period in Maine.  People seem to believe that they can just “hop” off the interstate and “pop” into Boothbay Harbor for a quick bite.  That “hop” can take hours in the summer, with traffic backed up for miles and the “pop” can mean some time waiting for a table or finding a parking space.  I’m not trying to discourage visitors – just trying to manage expectations.  Maine may be a place you can get away from it all in spirit but many parts of the state are just as busy as urban areas around the country.  Just be realistic about it and have a good, relaxed time.  You can leave your uptight suit at home.  Know we’ve got traffic and waiting for a table at a good restaurant just like you have at home.  Also know that most people here will wave you into that traffic and that the restaurant you’re going to eat at has seafood that was caught this morning.  The people are what makes the difference here. 

 

True:  you can eat lobster and blueberry pie every day of your Maine vacation

False:   don’t bother coming if you’re not into lobster or blueberry pie

Maine is carefully crafting a culture of culinary excellence.  Back in the late 90’s Bon Appetit magazine declared that Portland, Maine had more restaurants per capita than any other city in the US.  Since then, the food scene here has just exploded in a great way.  The farm to table movement is big here, as is the boat to table concept.  Every season offers something fresh and delicious.

The Maine Restaurant Association's website can give you listings of where you can eat in the part of Maine you are visiting.  They have a great new app that you can use while you're here to make decisions, make reservations, and make your trip mouthwateringly awesome. 

 

True – you can drive 75 miles per hour in Maine

False – that starts at the border

There’s a show that I’ve attended in my role as marketing person for our tourism region. It’s called the Big E or the Eastern States Exhibition. It is held each year in West Springfield MA and goes on for 17 days. Each of the New England states has their own building on the Avenue of States. My organization, The Maine Highlands, was, of course, in the Maine building. I’m telling you this because it ties in with my true/false above. Dozens of people came up to the map we had displayed and asked “Where is it you can drive 75 miles per hour?” said with a dreamy, I’ve-got-to-do-that voice. When I explain that the 75 MPH area begins just north of Old Town and I point to where that is – about 3 ½ hours after you cross the border on 95 from NH, they get either a depressed droop of the shoulders or a determined I’m-gonna-go-there-someday look. 

The speed limit was raised last September.  The interstate is pretty darn straight and other than trees and the occasional deer or moose (see above) and the other drivers, there's a pretty clear path.  Here's some info about it from the Bangor Daily News.  The increased speed zone begins in Old Town and ends at the Canadian border in Houlton. 

True – you can visit up and down the coast’s quaint little harbors & coves

False – you can just meander along the coast, weaving in and out of the villages, snapping iconic photos along the way

Maine has 3500 miles of coastline. Do you realize how many “meanders” that is? A LOT! And if something looks like it’s only this far on the map, take into consideration the things I mentioned above, like traffic, and then factor in getting stuck behind a tractor or someone else looking for quaint harbors and plan to see a few in a day. If you actually get out of your car you might enjoy the experience more. Many times has the traveler laden with luggage poked a camera covered eye out of the passenger side window, snapped a photo for their “Maine” scrapbook, and drove off in a spew of dust and rock, anxious to get to the next place. There is a better connection waiting for you if you get out and walk around a bit. Check out the lobster boats and the general store. We’re a friendly lot. You might find something more interesting to take a photo of beyond the typical boats-in-the-harbor (although this is a very popular image, I must admit) scene. Smell the harbor . . . BE the harbor . . ok, I’m kidding there, but really, if you want a Maine experience, get out of the damn car!

True – Mainers have an accent

False – ALL Mainers have an accent

Some do, of course, have that Maine accent that is noted on the bumper stickers about not getting there from here. There are some people who personify the “Mainer” you see in commercials and movies. What you’ll find more than the stereotype is that most of us are like most of you. We like to have fun. We love our kids. We enjoy good food. We want to find some larger role to play in the world. Some of us have French accents from the large influence of French Canadian heritage. Some speak more than one language and those other languages can be Spanish or Sudanese. Or Arabic or Swedish. Just like the rest of the country, we're a mixed bunch of people, some born here and some "from away" who have made the choice to live here.  

The Maine accent is a real thing, but don't expect it from the first person you meet when you come to Maine. You're just as likely to meet someone whose path had led them there as you are to meet someone whose feet first hit the ground here.  For a few years, I worked in an office at the University of Maine in Orono where out of twelve of us, there were only four of us that were born Mainers.  That's only a third.  Everyone else had come here for other reasons.  One moved with her family from New Orleans when she was in middle school, the daughter of faculty.  Another moved here from Rhode Island when her husband's parents were ailing.  Someone else moved from Austin TX to Boston for his education then married a woman who became an economics professor.  My point is that you just never know where we are from originally and what brought us here to Maine.  But you can ask.  And we'll tell you.  And you might find that we have more in common than you originally thought.

Maine Tourism statistics show that 80% of the people who visit Maine the first time come back.  My guess is that they find so much to do, they end up making a list of what to do on their next trip.  Those choices are solidified by the great experiences they have with the people here.

So just come to Maine and see for yourself what we're all about. Visit anytime.

Some websites to help you out:

VisitMaine.com
The Maine Highlands
Visit Bangor Maine
The Maine Beaches
Maine Camping Guide


Send me your comments and your Maine "truisms".  I'll make it part of my Part 2 of this series about the real Maine.


   

Sidewalk Arts in the Rain

Fortune's Rocks Beach Biddeford, Maine - the day after

I’m new to the arts and crafts show circuit. That doesn’t mean I’m new to art or craft for that matter, just to the concept of setting up a temporary shop for a day, weekend, or even just a few hours to sell your work. In the past year, I’ve been assigned a space between a gourmet fudge maker and a Christmas wreath crafter, a handcrafted unique bird house designer and a whoopee pie baker, and a marshmallow gun carver and my friend Judy, who makes jewelry, and who is “not in this for the money. It’s just fun . . ” but outsold me by 300%.

I have learned a thing or two from these people, though, and from these events. By making mistakes and finding myself wishing I had brought X, I thought I was totally prepared for the show I did this past weekend in Southern Maine.

My table display

The one thing I needed the most and forgot to pack: my thick skin.

The one thing I wasn’t prepared for: disappointment.

The one thing I hoped wouldn’t happen and did: rain.

The one thing I had, but didn’t get much use out of: inventory.

No, I’m not especially spleeny (a good Maine word for frail, sensitive or easily hurt). And no, I’m not generally a person who looks at life with a glass-half-empty attitude.



But it rained. It poured. The brave ones came out to the show anyway and expected to see some serious art. My first sale of the day was my largest: $100 for one of my bigger, display pieces. The rest of my sales were smaller, but were certainly sales nonetheless. It’s just that there were so few of them. I guess I’m lamenting the fact that there were points in the day that I thought I’d cry from the frustration. Rain poured down the gully on the edge of the sidewalk. It dripped in from the metal poles supporting my just-bought-for-this-occasion beige canopy (without the side walls, because I couldn’t find matching ones, which turned out to be a valuable asset to those around me to keep their work dry when the rain came in sideways). Cars drove by and splashed the back of my table, the tablecloth, the gear I had stowed beneath the skirt.



And not that I can blame them, hardly anyone came. And of those who did, many said “ah, the Saco Sidewalk Art Festival . . it always rains . . “ and they’d shake their heads and give me a small grin, like I should have known or like I did know yet chose to come anyway.

my canopy covered show space

Reality is that you sign up for these events long before the extended forecast comes out. You pay the entry fee. You try to consider everything, every what if, or if not. You – or maybe it’s just me – research display ideas and find something that’ll work for your art. You think about how to pack the car for easy unloading and set up. You consider the phrasing of your signs. You dream about making a bunch of money and being able to call your husband and tell him how great it was and that you’re taking your parents out for dinner on your big earnings and how everyone ranted and raved about your work and you have orders for more work that’ll keep you busy until Christmas and you convince yourself this will be worth having given up your day job.

And then it rains.

And only the brave few come to the show.


And thankfully you make enough to just cover the entry fee and your gas.


And . . . you learn.



And you meet a few people and chat with them and bathe in the compliments.



You listen to their stories of this place or that one and how they shot this amazing sunset and oh here it is in my digital camera do you want to see it?



And your face hurts from smiling because despite all of that, you do like doing this.



And you’re happy about giving up your day job and spending the last four nights gluing mattes together and making signs.

And there’s a certain satisfaction when you back up and take a look at all you’ve created and think about the trail of an image to this point. How it goes from something you see through the viewfinder to your computer to the printer to the table with the glue and mat board to a finished product with your name on it that goes up on someone’s wall that they see every day and it makes them smile.

Ocean Park Beach Path Saco Maine

It takes a lot to put your work out there. Not only do you have to have confidence and pride in what you do or create, you have to have a marketing concept of some sort. You have to know no only what you sell, but how you sell. What kind of image do you intend to project? What psychological nerve do you want to touch in the people who walk by your booth? How are you going to get noticed, in a sea of white canopies and colorful signs? I don’t know the statistics on the amount of money spent by the typical consumer visiting an art or craft show. I understand that for someone to earmark some of their time and energy to going to one of these shows, they have to have an interest of some sort. Sometimes they drive long distances. Sometimes there’s an admission fee. Sometimes it takes the coordination of several friends or family members who enjoy this sort of event to decide to go together and make a day of it. I get it. These people have an investment into this before they even get to the gate. This earns them the right to some sort of expectation. Arts and craft show attendees want to see and buy things that are on a different level from the things on the shelf at Walmart. They want to meet the artists and talk to them about their art. They want a story to tell when someone asks them about the photograph of the sunflower they’ve hung in their living room.



My Dad asked me the next morning if I would do it again. I was sore from moving everything and standing on my wet feet all day. I was struggling to repack the car with items I didn’t sell. My patience was thinning. I had a long drive ahead of me and unpacking at the other end.




I said yes.

Tangled lobster buoy ropes on the beach