“To continue doing something with determination or resolve despite difficulties or an unlikely chance of succeeding.”
Now my mission to Folk Festival was over, I headed north up to the Maine woods. Had no idea what or where I was going except closer to Canada. The only thing I knew about Canada was that they had snow, Montreal had a world’s fair, and they spoke French. I was very lucky that I hit Acadia Nation Park, just outside Bar Harbor as the sun was setting. I drove around, picked my campsite, then settled in for the night. After coffee the next morning I went down to register, then I went looking for the Atlantic. I heard and smelt it before I saw it, I could hear waves crashing, wave that had come from half the world away.
The trees finally parted, huge boulders made up the shore, the waves crashing against them. I spied a young couple who’d come just to get away from their folk’s. I made for a spot some yards away, I was there for the power of the ocean. And a lesson in power was demonstrated in just a heartbeat. A wave broke, seawater made its way towards my feet, just shy it started to ebb. Then the next wave broke, again seawater raced up the boulder I was squatting on. As it reached my shoes the grip I had on the rock broke, down is started sliding. Just as I was picking up speed, I saw a hand reaching out to me, to save me. I grasped the savior’s hand, he pulled me back to dry rock where again I had somewhere for my shoes to grip.

The young couple became my instant friends, they took me back to meet there respective folks. It was then I learned that they came every summer, and had since the kids were small. I was to learn that most folk’s knew each other, longtime summer friends. There were people who came with relatives, a real family camp-out. I was welcomed by a number of families just by meeting their kids. One older couple I just admire their rig to be welcome. I became every mother’s son who himself was away from the family bond. I moved from group to group fluidly, though I had my space too. It was the change I needed, people to hail on my walks around camp.

I also met single and groups of people who were just stopping in on their way to somewhere. Here pot was the great equalizer. I had some pot given to me as a going away present, and some hash I could not get off on no matter how much I smoked. Often people I shared the hash with beg off when I offer more. Once I met two guys who were traveling though, we shared some pot, and just as I was getting off, they thew my friend and I up against the tent and frisked us just like cops do.I was instantly scared straight as an arrow by their tactics, as they just laughed and laughed. Needless to say that was that as far as any pot sharing in the future.

But the park was very cool, and the people too. I decided that was where I wanted to be for a spell.