I made it to my farm! When I started out I had intended on biking the entire way from New York City to Milbridge, Maine, a five-hundred mile journey. What happened was this; I biked the first day and camped out in a park that night. It was cold, and I was ill prepared for the trip. What I really wanted was to just get out of New York. I ended up boxing up my bike and taking a bus to Bangor, ME, about one-hundred miles from my destination.
The road, starting about twenty miles north of New York on Hwy 1 is quite amazing. The country immediately above the mega-metropolis changes fast. The first people I talked to an hour into my ride on the first day said they had hadn't been to the big city in four years. There are lots and lots of old buildings, old from my perspective being form the west coast. Right along the road I saw the ruins of a house and renovated fort dating back three-hundred years. Its seems as if the entire New England coast is filled with old buildings and history. As I got further north the coast began losing what form it had and looked like the results of a bucket of spilled paint.
The second day of biking presented me with a couple of problems. Equipment and money. I had neither in sufficient amounts. Thats OK! I took a bus most of the rest of the way. From there it was fifty miles by bike to Mount Dessert Island and Acadia National Park wherein lies Bar Harbor. This is also where college of the Atlantic is. In the winter the entire island has a meager portion of locals with a light topping of college students, but come summer it turns into a feast of people and cars. For some reason I can't seem to stay away from the place.
I stayed for four days with friends made on a previous visit. The community is very hospitable with open hearts and creativity and talent shining from every corner. I had to wait a few days before traveling to the farm, Living Roots is the name, because the farmer had not yet arrived. The distance was another fifty miles. Living Roots is mostly a one man show. Half a mile down a dirt road then through the trees into a half square acre clearing with a small cabin with no running water or electricity. It was simplicity to the max. Travis, the farmer very energetic and active, a part time stockbroker, knows seemingly everyone in the community who is into homesteading. Over the course of my stay I met countless entrepreneurs of the ancient art of surviving on account of Travis. Living Roots farm has a song that idealizes its motto and name. The song is "Strictly Roots" by Althea and Donna.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mcz_YjR3LKQ Great song!
Our neighbors and fellow farmers were Sasha, Sam and Bea. Bea is their two year old daughter, a budding soccer player and in charge of feeding the dog, unofficially. Most of the food placed in front of her ends up on the ground and in the dog's mouth. Sam says they stopped feeding the dog as soon as Bea joined the family table. Sam brews his own beer. One of the first things I heard upon walking in the door, with his natural generousness, was "want a beer?" This is fallowed by Sasha asking me if I wanted something to eat then by Bea grabbing my hand. If you watch the You Tube video I posted you will know the exact way in which Bea dances to reggae, only with more energy. I ended up spending a lot of time there. They grow veggies and have sheep and chickens.
Another of Sams hobbies is boat building. One of his ambitions, and there are a lot of them, is to build a viking style skiff and, with his family loaded upon the vessel, conquer foreign lands like his Viking ancestors. His first conquest would be Bar Harbor. Sam had the plans for the boat but not the time to build it. I jumped on the opportunity. I was lucky enough to learn the first basic steps of boat building.
We cut out the frame supports and took them over to another neighbors, Bob and Megs, the experts on everything wooden, for further direction.
Walking into Bob and Megs, one sees roughly fifty of the one-hundred plus violins that Bob has created hanging about the walls. Around the house and in the shop are beautifully carved horses and other animals that are Megs creations. I feel as if Bob and Meg live on a slightly different plane of creative ability than most humans. They have a garden, chickens and a composting toilet.
Every one I met in this community has a theme of self-sustaining-homestead-ability. A part of the list of Travis' friends and Washington county, down-east Maineers include a small-farmer political activist, a logger, small farmer and carpenter who built his own three story sustainable mansion, Cliff-the log-home-builder, members of of a homeschooling Waldorf community, a yoga teacher, members of a south of the border immigration program, many carpenters, Jerry the junk collector, Royal the locals-only store owner and many more. Most of these people know each other. There is a wonderful feeling of family, small-town-ness, gossipy-ness, love and support.
May 6th I hitchhiked to Hallowell, Maine for the the beginning of my Americorps job.
