The world is screwed so we enjoyed another National Park while we could
I watched Donald Trump's first press conference since becoming President-elect today. That was a whirlwind. And by whirlwind, I actually mean a different metaphor, which is "an embarrassing flaming dumpster fire that was very reminiscent of authoritarian regimes." We couldn't even have 24 hours of feeling good about the country, thanks to Obama's farewell speech, before Trump had to come blustering back in, dragging everyone down.
In short, the country is buggered. I'd say just for the next four years, but the climate change damage will be irreversible once Trump and his cabinet of swamp creatures have finished pillaging the earth for fossil fuels to bring jobs back to the 1800s to the blessed Middle America.
On that light note, and putting my soapbox away, I finally got around to uploading photos from Lia and my trip to Acadia (one of the National Parks that will surely die a grim death thanks to the actions of the next four years, in case you didn't quite catch the link)!
We headed up on a Friday afternoon with several of her friends, to a huge AirBnb we'd rented on Bar Harbor, the island Acadia sits on. Saturday, just as it began snowing, the hippest, most stylish group of hikers you ever did see headed for the park.
As we were making to leave the AirBnb, located in a part of the tiny town of Bar Harbor we learned was referred to as Bar Harlem by the local youths, one of the many cats that roamed around the block made a dash inside. We nabbed it, and then we were off!
Yeah, we had a man bun in the group, we were painfully hip hikers!
This image and the above were at the parking lot we stopped at to try and find our way into the park. As a bunch of people went off to try and find a map, a couple of us hung back to just check out this awesome lake and the coast around it.
The Maine coastline is so harsh, brutal, and unforgiving. It's such a rugged beauty, just just as picturesque as the Pacific Northwest in my mind. I fell in love with the colours over the course of the trip, the dull yellow of the brittle grass, the purples of the leafless branches, and the dark green of the hardy trees.
And the water. It was just crystal clear.
I can't decide which one of the two images above I prefer. I think the right, with the fog slightly obscuring the mountains, and the delicacy of the colours of the foliage on the floor.
Then the other group found a map, we got our bearings, and got to the park. And we climbed a mountain while I used an unnecessarily big camera.
Still, some pretty views from the way up.
Celebratory cigar at the top of the mountain.
Paul Hoover, Lia's roommate from last year, in his element. He drank an entire Natty Daddy later that night, prompting his new name, Natty Daddy.
Here's Lia looking small on the top of the mountain.
It was bright and stupendously pretty in one direction...
And grey and foggy in the direction we were headed.
But the leaves were so vivid. Also, finally got some photos of me, which are a rare thing -- rarer still now that I deleted 7 years of photos from my external hard drive by accident. Whoops.
Babe in the woods.
We reached the end of the trail, so jumped back in the cars and whizzed around to a basin we'd been told was especially dangerous. There wasn't much danger of any of us swimming though.
Then we went back to the house and made a massive dinner feast, and all got very drunk to numb the pain, which I feel the need to do again now, in light of today's entertainment. ✌🏻