There's something weird about blogging a vacation. Does my vacation exist, if I don't blog? Clearly yes, but, still, herewith some observations that might get forgotten by the time I get home.

I left home c. 10AM and, 500 miles or so later, pulled into a motel in Houlton, Maine, the last town before the Canadian border on I-95.

Some observations:

It does little good to carefully pack a basket with picnic supplies (cutting board, paper plates, home made salad dressing, etc.), if you leave said basket by the couch in your living room.

Purple loostrife may be an invasive plant, forcing out native species, but it still looks gorgeous by the side of the road.

EZ-Pass may represent yet another wedge of Big Brother potential intrusion into individual rights (after all, BB can track your location via the same transponder that registers your presence at a toll booth), but it's damn convenient. Having the transponder saved me a bunch of time on the Mass Pike. It wasn't such a big deal on the Maine Turnpike, as there was less traffic there. It would have been useful in New Hampshire, but the New Hampshire Turnpike doesn't start taking EZ-Pass until Wednesday. So, perhaps it will help me on my way home

The fact that there is a gas station sign preceding an exit from I-95 in New Hampshire doesn't mean that you can find a gas station anywhere near that exit. However, in failing to find a gas station, you may nonetheless find a K-Mart which hasn't gone belly up at which you can buy paper plates to replace those sitting in your living room at home rather than in the back of your car.

Maine really does only have two seasons, winter and road construction. Because road construction is a season, it affects traffic even on Sunday when there's no actual construction going on.

Regardless of posted (de jure) speed limits, the de facto speed limit on I-95 is substantially higher north of Orono than in the southern part of the state. Of course, the faster you're going, the harder it is to be vigilant for moose crossing the road.

The Red Sox Radio Network actually is a network. Starting with the pre-game show and the first few innings on the flagship Boston station, and finishing with the final out on a Bangor station, it was possible listen to the entire game; as one station faded into static, the scan function on the car radio would soon find it on another station. I only missed one Minnesota run, and it ended up not figuring into the outcome.