Sunday mornings are always melancholy at Bass Harbor, the campground that NUHOC stays at. Everyone’s usually a bit hungover, a bit sore, and more than a bit unhappy about the prospect of driving six hours just to be back in Boston again.
I don’t remember when I woke up, but once I did I was thankfully able to bring myself into gear quickly enough to catch the last dregs of breakfast before they were all gone. Daniel had cooked up a few eggs for us, and I believe I comandeered a bit of milk as well… but to be honest I was way too asleep to really form any coherent memories until a good bit later.
While I had driven up with Daniel, I planned on hitching a ride back into Boston with Mike now that he was up here. So we played some more car-jenga, this time trying to fit a kayak, a guitar, a bike, my climbing gear, and all of our camping gear into the back of Mike’s Eclipse. It was difficult, but possible. The real challenge came from trying to focus on packing a car while we were under heavy assault from Marshmallows.
NUHOC had bought S’more material for the weekend. But whoever had been left in charge of buying the Marshmallows had made a major logistical error – they had bought the “jumbo” size, instead of the more usable “normal” size. Thus, Sunday morning found NUHOC staring at dozens of bags of Jumbo Marshmallows with no home for them to go home to. The solution? Full on Marshmallow war was declared.
On one side was… anyone on that side of the campground. On the other side: people trying to pack their cars up. Tents were quickly dropped in favor of marshmallows, and the vans were re-purposed into defensive walls. At one point, I got tackled clean into said van after I made an ill-advised flanking attack on our opponents… Mike didn’t take that point-blank marshmallow too well, to say the least. Hey, I can’t throw for crap accuracy, so may as well sneak around, right?
The battle raged on for nearly an hour, culminating in one person trying to drive through the middle in a vain hope of escape. That allied the two warring armies, and we both gave chase, throwing our “grenades” through the window as it was desperately rolled shut. They escaped, but in doing so carted off nearly half of our ammunition supply.
Thus disarmed, we finished packing and headed onto the open road. Mike and I made a quick stop in to see the coffee girl at the small town near the campground, since she had been serving us our morning brew every morning for the entire weekend so far… it just seemed rude not to stop in and say our goodbyes. We stayed in for one last story-swap, where I told one about New Zealand and she told one about her stay in Australia, and we all promised to reconvene again the next year.
After leaving Acadia National Park behind, Mike and I made a scenic-route path back towards our home city. The “scenic” part may not have been completely intentional… but thanks to a quick google maps search on my Kindle (thank you free 3G) we found our way without much stress. Our only other stop in was for a quick lunch at applebee’s, which was quite excellent, but aside from that one indulgence we trucked onward, listening to random CDs and talking about what the heck we wanted to do with the next few years of our lives.