There are places I remember WQH


Just a couple of summers ago, or so it seems. We headed down Rt. 9, otherwise known as The Airline, on our way to meet up with my brother in law who lives in Calais for his 50th birthday celebration.  A big part of that day was feasting on some rather large, and very hard shell lobsters.

When I say hard, envision..hammer..claws..concrete garage floor.. 

At the end our meal, even with Mike and Rob having their way with the brutes, there was still a wicked slug of meat left over. So after several digestifs of IPAs and Sam Adams the question was brought up of what should be done with the remains.  And this is what leads me to the theme of this post…

If you’ve ever been to West Quoddy Head you’ll not forget it, provided of course if it wasn’t socked in by fog.  Now I’ve heard the crazy talk about Alaska being both the most western and eastern most points in the U.S. but that’s just..well..crazy. Anyone who’s worth his weight in wild Maine blueberries knows that West Quoddy Head is THE most eastern spot in our country. And that will not be taken away from us on some technicality.

It was a beautiful day to be at The Head and we took full advantage of the trails that follow along the rugged and beautiful shoreline. The views out over the ocean and Grand Manan and Campobello are spectacular.  As were those Maine lobster rolls that we enjoyed on our picnic after the hike.

We were all too soon winding our way down Rt. 1, heading back home. But WQH rates very high on my list of places that I remember…