An Epic Hike and an Epic Ride to End an Epic Trip . . . But It Had to be the Shoes

It rained some on Sunday, but we were able to take a nice hike with the dog along the old narrow-gauge railroad tracks in  Sullivan . . .

and then our last full day down east was a beauty-- 46 degrees in the early morning, slowly rising to a high of 71-- so we got up early and headed back to Acadia for one last epic and precarious hike-- the Dorr Mountain Ladder Trail . . . I highly recommend this hike but get there early, as the roadside parking fills up by ten AM; the hike was made even more precarious because of the heavy rain the night before-- we were essentially hiking up a waterfall of stone stairs-- so you really had to watch your step, but it was worth it, for the views and the interesting terrain . . .

the trail was built from 1913 to 1916 and it's a feat of mountainside engineering-- it may be one of the best hikes in the world, in terms of bang for your buck, views, instant gratification, and lack of tedium;

every turn is something new and interesting;

and you get up really high in a fast fashion 

and there are blueberries at the top of Dorr Mountain 

coming down wasn't quite as treacherous, but there were still some slippery sections

but it was obviously worth it-- this hike is far less crowded and far more shaded than the Beehive and offers even better vistas;

after the hike, we went to the quaint and uncrowded town of Ellsworth and had delicious burritos at 86 This . . . definitely quieter and cheaper than Bar Harbor, and then we headed back to the place for some final round of cornhole, some final soaks in the hot tub, and the big pack up so that we could get started at 6 AM on Tuesday morning . . . and everyone did a fantastic job packing up and we actually got driving at 6:16 AM on Tuesday morning-- so we'd be home in time to watch Italy play Spain, but best-laid plans, an hour-and-a-half down the road, Catherine yelled "the shoe bags!" and we all realized that we had left all our footwear hanging behind the door of the place-- and it was a LOT of footwear: running shoes and tennis shoes and hiking boots and sandals-- a few hundred dollars worth of shoes-- just enough that we had to turn around and drive back, perhaps adding three hours to our 8-hour drive . . . so we drove back, Lola got out, confused, and peed, and we got the shoes and piled back in-- but we didn't realize that now we would be headed into the teeth of Connecticut and NYC traffic AND a monster thunderstorm . . . so after several Joe Rogan podcasts (and an interesting story about Chippendale's called Welcome to Your Fantasy) we arrived home at 7:45 PM . . . over thirteen hours in the car-- Lola was a hero-- she never threw up or whined, and Catherine did a great job driving through the storm on our way to the George Washington bridge-- there was lots of flying garbage!-- and it was an epic end to an epic trip . . . perhaps one of our last true fmaily only vacations, as the kids are getting older and now have to start summer employment and all that-- and as a final treat, Italy beat Spain in PKs . . . and I never learned the score so I was able to watch the game and pretend we made it home at the right time.