Near Bangor, on our way up to Orono on the 9th, there were some birds circling a dump to the right of the highway. I glanced over and saw one much much bigger than the rest, with long rectangular wings in a straight line. “Tell me that’s an eagle,” I said. Arlene looked for a while and said, “Yes, that’s an eagle, you can see the white head and tail.” Maybe I’ve seen enough of them by now to recognize them quickly.<\/p>\n
And Bangor. I still say it’s the northeasternmost city in the US that people from big cities would recognize as a city. Houlton is farther north and east, but it looks, or looked the last time we were through it, which was 12 years ago, like a big town. Fort Kent is way farther north, and I’ve never been there to know how big it is or isn’t. And you probably hadn’t heard of it until now. But you’ve heard of Bangor, not just because of the song “King of the Road” — “Third boxcar, midnight train, destination: Bangor, Maine.” We went just a little bit past Bangor, to Old Town. Which you’ve possibly heard of because it’s where Old Town canoes come from.<\/p>\n
Somewhere between Bangor and Houlton, (at least it was this way last time we were up that way, in ’94) Interstate 95 stops being a four-lane divided highway and becomes just a two lane road. It’s still as straight and level as other interstates. It’s just not a divided highway. Also in that area, you stop going through towns with names to them. It’s forest owned by the paper companies, with townships that just have numbers. Farther north you get into potato farming country and named towns again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Near Bangor, on our way up to Orono on the 9th, there were some birds circling a dump to the right of the highway. I glanced over and saw one much much bigger than the rest, with long rectangular wings in a straight line. “Tell me that’s an eagle,” I said. Arlene looked for a … <\/p>\n