Glory Days

Rioux Cabin where I spent two weeks a year

When I was young,  my parents and their best friend Author Sharon  ( nicknamed Beezy because of a childhood fight with a swarm of bees) would go to Maine two weeks a year. We would stay in Surry,ME in a cabin. Surry is one town over from Ellsworth which in turn is 30 minutes from Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park. We went up about ten years from ages  6-16.

I had great memories at the cabin. We would go up either the second and third week of August or the third and fourth depending on what was available. The cabin ( there were three and we stayed in the middle sized one) was on a nine mile long lake named Toddy Pond. There was a dock down at the water. Also I had access to a canoe. I would fish a little cove in search of sunfish, perch, big golden shiners and the prize- fallfish. I caught my first ever trout in a little stream behind a firestation.

Almost every evening I would fish the dock in front of the cabin. I would catch white perch, chubs, eels, and catfish. This was the first lake I ever saw any of the first three of those fish. Not knowing what a white perch was I mistakenly identified it as a calico bass ( apparently I didn't know what a calico bass was either). I'd fish until after dark then we would all play cards. I did not enjoy playing cards as such as the other four, so my brother played more than me especially when I got older.

First trout stream 22 years later

I also made a friend, he lived on the same road as our cabin. His name was Brian.  He spent his summers at his grandmother's house. Brian was a couple years older than me. He taught me where to catch frogs and the names of the new fish I was catching. All in all Brian was a good kid and I looked forward to hanging out with him.  One time we went hunting with his bb gun and he shot a chipmunk. I didn't like the feeling of killing something just for sport and not eating it ( still don't).



My best memory with Brian was when we were older he took me to a pickerel pond with monster fish. We fished with big topwater plugs under a bright sun and goliath sized pickerel exploded on them. We missed more than we hooked but it was awesome.

I have a million memories of the cabin. We slept in bunkbeds, then when I got older I'd sleep on a cot on the porch. It was the first place I used a fireplace and a campfire.

Every year we'd go to Acadia for a day or two. We would drive up Cadillac Mountain then Ocean Drive. We would eat at Bar Harbor and my dad would undoubtably get us  lost and start screaming about it. ( bad Italian temper).

Brian's grandmother's house

The reason why I write all this is my vacation last week was sort of a homecoming for me. I remember being on Cadillac Mountain with my family and also seeing other parts of the park.

Closer to the heart, one of the days it was raining last week we drove to the cabin I stayed at. It took a little while to find it. There are more side roads to the water than there used to be. When I found the road, I went down, (  call it my Memory Lane). Sadness came over me, I remembered the good times but missed my parents ( as you may know I lost my mom when I was 17 and my dad a few years later).

There is one terrible memory form my time at the cabin. My cousin Billy, 17 at the time passed away while we were on vacation. We came home for a couple of days for the wake and funeral. I was telling the story to DJ about my cousin's passing while driving to the trout stream.. I then told him how without my cousin Billy, DJ would not be here. When I was about three years old I was at a family cookout. My whole family was there aunts, uncles, and tons of kids. We were swimming in the pool and when it was time to eat I did not get out. I somehow lost my hand holds on the edge and went under. I could not get myself back up. Luckily, Billy pulled me out. Without him I surely would have drowned. I do remember almost drowning. I remember gasping for air, but the rest of the memory is a bit foggy. It has told to me several times since. So in telling DJ about my cousin, his passing and my close call, I think DJ got a little more repect for the places and events that lead to his existance.

We drove to the cabin. From the driveway you can only see the back. The front faces the water. I took some pictures. A new cabin has been built making the total, four. I only stayed a couple minutes and didn't get out of the car. There was a truck in the driveway. I wanted to intrude, but thought better of it.

 I could feel the ghosts from my childhood. Even though I am very happy, I yearned for those days at the cabin. I could see the thirteen year old me running around a corner barefoot too fast and ripping off the toe nail on my pinky toe. It hurt like hell, but an hour later I thought it was cool it happened and proud I didn't cry. I could hear the call of the loons. I could hear my brother and I laughing after we flipped the canoe in three feet of water twenty years ago.

I did cry the last day of vacation most years. I would walk up and down the paths and slap the branches as a good bye handshake. A thank you for a fun vacation and a promise I would see them the following year. I could have stayed there the whole summer. That last day was the payment I had to make for  two weeks worth of memories.

I had to go visit on this vacation. Mentally I would have been crushed to have been that close and not take the trip to Toddy Pond. Yet, it was a tough day. My happy memories turned into sadness knowing I really can't go back. I can't relive them and spend time with my parents again. I loved that cabin and as much as my home in North Attleboro it was " the house that built me" but maybe some things are best left in the past.