Here we go again.....some "research and development" for some future Salty endeavors....a trip up to Monhegan Island, Maine...a long over-due trip that was gifted to us 2 years ago......Laurie and I finally picked a time we thought we could get away, a time that would be perfect. We picked early September, which typically is a slightly slower time at Salt...a kind of transition time. The weeknights slow down a bit with school starting, yet right on the cusp of getting our asses handed to us with catering. So what better time to try and take advantage of a few days. Total bullshit! The night before we are to leave is the night we host Shockenaw Mountain Boys for an awesome night of music and fun...which it was. Then the power went out. Not during the show, thanks to the music god's...but sometime during the over-night, something right before we are to leave for the weekend. We get word from Mike at 8:44 am, "Powers out at Salt"....I think to myself, "Ok, this has happened numerous times, power goes out for short periods of time quite a bit, hell it is JCP&L...this is to be expected. We did have quite a heavy rain and some wind last night". Not in my wildest dream did I expect it to kill our Friday lunch business...but it did. So now on our way north towards Maine we are texting and calling Salt and our team there, friends, the town offices, councilmen, the mayor and JCP&L. Feeling eerily like something that happened in the not to distant past...it proved to be not much different. JCP&L knew nothing, nor did the town...but I can tell you, our Salt team knew! No power, and no answers...from anyone! So as I trek my way north towards Maine, with a knot in my stomach, but thinking all along there is no way this can be like last time.....after all it was a fucking rain storm. No tornado. No hurricane. No fires. Not much of anything out of the ordinary. The trek towards Maine continues after talking to JCP&L and feeling pretty sure that power will be restored by mid-lunch. Yeah right... Word we keep getting to us that 6:30pm latest...then midnight latest, then Sat. by noon, and definitely no later then 8pm Saturday night. At this point I am throwing up outside the car, not really, but mentally....By the time we hit the Maine border we are both sick with anxiety and guilt for not being at the restaurant during such a crisis, a crisis we had no idea that was upon us. As we enter Maine and the sun has fast set...we hit the black highway and get slammed with sheets of rain.....the kind of rain that makes you feel as though you are entering Hell itself. Sight is about 3 inches from the windshield, the wipers can't keep it off fast enough. No lights on the highways up here, nothing open past 8pm...the highway is deserted, dark and fucking creepy. At this point I am waiting for the car to careen off the road, land in a ditch and the wife and I have to meander through the Maine woods hoping to find life, only to be found by some three eyed, twelve fingered beauty to invite us in to get dry. Or perhaps a "Brad" moment in the Rocky Horror, which may have been fun, but anyway....
We keep forging North....finally coming upon our exit..."Port Clyde" and the rain slows....but man, we are in the midst of nothing. We drive around everywhere, looking for anything in the midst of nothing...and we found alot of nothing and not a clue as to where to turn. Running in circles and dead ends we see a sign for "town". Literally a broken, wooden, hand painted tiny sign...what the fuck right? To "town" we go....sure as shit, thats where we needed to be, kind of.
