Wonder of wonders, our travel guide Jeff, came up with something else for us to do (other than chase elusive moose all day) during our annual camping trip to Eustis Maine. He had been doing some exploring prior to our arrival and found the Kibby Mountain Wind Project.
I love windmills, and when Jeff piled all the old people into vehicles and led the convoy to Kibby Mountain in Franklin county, I felt like Don Quixote. Earlier in the week, Jeff and his bride were treated to a close up and personal look at the project. It seems at certain times there are cordial and knowledgeable “guards” of the turbines that like to inform the curious public. We were hoping the same gentleman would be at the security checkpoint.
Well, the slug slumped over in the pick-up truck by the security shack was not quite as accommodating. He had a short animated conversation with Jeff, and promptly “waved” us off. It seems that public relations were not his forte. I stuck my tongue out at him as our convoy turned around.
Jeff does not take kindly to being dismissed. Our wagon train continued on the dirt road for a mile or so. I was whining to my friend, who by the way does not take kindly to whining, when Jeff shagged a sharp right onto another dirt road which apparently was the back door to the Kibby Wind Project. I had a strange urge to stop on the way back and stick my tongue out at the slug a second time.
We weren’t as close as we had hoped, but the view of these alien like structures was breathtaking. They are not in perfect formation, but “splattered” across the ridges of the mountains. When we came to the end of the road we stepped out of our vehicles and stepped into the perfect beauty and silence of a late September morning. The turbines almost looked like toys twirling soundlessly in slow motion. Distance is misleading, so to get an idea of the size of these “toys” click here to see the size of one of the “blades” that arrived in Searsport Maine in 2009.
As we drove away I couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would have objections to these wind farms. Clean and renewable energy produced by silent, graceful structures sounds like a viable alternative to explore in depth nationwide. But that’s just me.
We returned to camp after enjoying another lunch at “Sarge’s” in Rangeley, which I can’t talk about, and it was looking like I would have to honor an oath I took about going kayaking. I stupidly told my friend “Happy” I would go with her if she couldn’t bribe anyone else to go. She wasn’t having any luck so I took matters into my own hands and threatened Jeff, telling him I would video him by the campfire later on, after the consumption of twenty or so beers. He’s a smart man.
We retrieved kayakers, limp and bedraggled, around five, and by seven we were planted around the fire discussing why rice was more “fun” to eat with ribs than noodles. Turns out, this was the greatest brain-strain I experienced during our vacation. All in all, it was a good trip, relaxing, educational, and fun. Next year I get to make the potato salad. I don’t know how that happened….