In the rain I drove 3 hours North to Acadia national park. I passed old wooden homes, many of them caving in, the lobster shops and inns closed for the season. I stopped at a small grocery store which served me smoked chicken wings. I found a trailhead and began to follow the coves. It rained heavily, then lightened, and then I was running without my jacket. I followed part of a rocky trail but the moss covered slick rocks made it unrunnable. I continued on a gravel trail which seemed endless. Nearly 2 hours later I was running in the dark, the sun setting in an intense red. I drove to Bar Harbor and there were
two places open for food. The lobster fishermen were done for the season and drank beer and whiskey with me as I ate what they characterized as a very small lobster. Even with the vat of butter, I was still very hungry. After the sunset, the temperature dropped intensely. I drove in the cold night back to Portland. I ran to more food in the city and ate oysters and drank cold ales and inhaled a burger. The next morning I drove to Mackworth Island, which has a trail that circles the island and a school for the deaf and blind. I ran the trail in an intense wind and looked out into the sun and the ocean. I drank good coffee downtown.

Maine is open. The air is sweet and nearly arctic. Its people are stern and friendly and serve the finest beer and pour the largest quantities of whiskey I have encountered. The ocean was good to me.

I hadn't slept the night before. Philsophical investigations. I was off to Maine, a place I had eyeballed in 2009 for land. It was remote and unpopulated.

But now I came to Maine with the feeling there was something strange and fun I was missing. There was Arcadia 3 hours outside and when the sun hits Arcadia it hits  america first on the sunrise.

I found a car and a hotel. The car rental guy spoke to me manically for 30 minutes and drew maps and diagrams. I told him I had worked intensely for 10 weeks and I wanted to let it go to another place. I would let the coast become my new lungs. What have I lost and gained in my days fixing financial statements? Wounds, Andreas and Moraline talk about the blood that runs from these open wounds and the channel to the soul, this rawness, how my last 7 months have burned to dying embers but have ignited something more primal.

I galloped through the cobblestones of Portland. I have slept little  these last few months but my legs are deer

. I met the lobster fisherman. I saw their smelly bait and boats and the ice house. I ate the oysters and tasted the fresh ocean and ate the lobster on pizza and in the stew. They poured me a 4 ounce pour if have out if compassion. I take off north tomorrow morning towards Canada.