Just a few quick thoughts–I’ll post more later. I’m currently at Spring Creek Ranch, in Jackson, Wyo., a small resort of rooms, condominiums and executive homes sharing a 1,000-acre wilderness preserve topping a butte, with fabulous Teton Mountain views. Yesterday later afternoon, I went on a wildlife safari in Grand Teton National Park. This is a MUST if you ever stay here: bison, elk, pronghorn, mule deer, fox–we even saw one catch and devour prey, plentiful birds and small mammals, too. And, of course, spectacular scenery. More details later, include the dish on a few great restaurants, including The Granary at Spring Creek–melt-in-my-mouth elk tenderloin paired with sunset over the Tetons, and Couloir, at the gondolar summit station on Jackson Hole Mountain Resort. Now I’m off to test the spa, then visit the Wildlife Museum and into town, perhaps catch a flick at the Jackson Hole Film Festival, which is currently in session. So much to do, so little time; hence few posts.
MDI lunch report: Tea and popovers at the Jordan Pond House
Lunch or tea on the lawn at Jordan Pond House, in Acadia National Park, has been an island tradition since the late 19th century, and it’s one we think should be continued. We were early enough in the season not to need a reservation, but it’s wise to have one–it provides preferential seating ahead of others waiting.
I had the classic, tea and popovers; pricey at $9, but I couldn’t resist. Tea was served the British way–a pot of tea accompanied by a second pot of hot water. The popovers were served one at a time, hot out of the oven and accompanied by butter and jam. It was enough to make me feel like a kid again, but one with adult tastes. Delicious.
Tom had a nice salad, again accompanied by a popover. Only miss was that he asked for the dressing on the side, and it was served already dressed. Good salad, but the dressing, a mustard vinaigrette, was strong, almost too strong. The setting, tables on the lawn overlooking Jordan Pond, can’t be beat on a sunny, warm day.
Here’s a hint: If you book the 1:15 p.m. Tea & Popover Carriage Ride from Wildwood stables, you’re guaranteed a table on the lawn
Setting anchor in Round Pond, Maine
Years ago I lived in Round Pond, Maine, and I still have a soft spot for this lovely little seaside village on the Pemaquid Peninsula. Wrapped around a cove, the round pond that begat its name, it’s home to the always-fun Granite Hall Store (a real penny candy counter, toys, curios, kitchen items, and gifty goods with a nautical accent downstairs; antiques, books, and British woolens upstairs; and an ice cream window serving Gifford’s).
On the harborfront are two dueling lobster shacks, facing each other across the road/dock. On a hot summer afternoon or evening, when I’m craving lobster, I head to Round Pond Lobster, the less fussy of the two shacks. Order at the window, grab a picnic table on the dock, and unload everything you’ve brought to accompany the crustaceans: wine, salads, bread, dessert, etc. See, Round Pond Lobster sells lobster and only lobster (and a few go-withs). Best deal: A one-pound dinner, which includes the bug (a.k.a. lobster), an ear of corn, a bag of steamers, and a bag of chips.
And talk about fresh. One time when we went, owner Buddy Poland said in his thick Maine accent: “It’ll be a minute.” With that, he closed the window, walked to the dock, got in a dinghy, and motored out to a lobster car for another crate of the critters. Took all of 10 minutes, maybe.
Now Muscongus Bay Lobster is a dite bit fancier and much larger. Its Bait Shed Bar offers beer and wine (so don’t bring alcohol). And it has some sheltered seating. The menu has more choices as well as kid-friendly items. Really, it’s personal preference–some folks head there, others to RP. We’re just conditioned to RP, but I’d recommend choosing the one with the shortest line or open tables.
If the weather’s iffy, check out the King Ro Market, which sells the necessities (including the go-withs for lobster if you’re headed to Round Pond Lobster). It offers breakfast, lunch, and dinner fare and also has a pub.
Read about some of my other Favorite Maine Lobster Shacks.
Would you like fries with that? Say yes, at Portland Maine’s Duckfat
Even those on a French fry budget can get a taste of Portland Chef Rob Evans’s renowned cuisine at Hugo’s can saunter across the street to his far more casual, order-at-the-counter joint, Duckfat.
Paninis, soups, and salads all hint at Evans’s creativity and his preference for using locally sourced, fresh ingredients, but it’s the fries that earn the most accolades. Not just any fries, mind you, but Belgian fries. These hand-cut, perfectly seasoned potatoes are fried, actually double fried, in, yes, duck fat, and served in a paper cone. Each order is accompanied by a choice of sauces, such as housemade curry, roasted garlic or horseradish mayo, and even truffled ketchup (my fave!).
To ratchet up the experience, order Evans’s version of the French-Canadian specialty poutine: crispy fries layered with homemade duck gravy and Maine cheese curd. I swear you can actually feel your arteries clamp down while your thighs expand.
What the heck, go for broke: Smooth it down with a milkshake made with local Smiling Hill Farm ice cream. Available in six flavors and malted, the shakes are so thick that a straw stands straight up in the center.
Too heavy, too much? Lighten the meal with an all-natural, homemade soda—perhaps lemon-verbena, mint & lime, or ginger brew. And for dessert—hey, why not–order a beignet, a doughnut hole topped with powdered, spiced or cinnamon sugars and/or chocolate sauce.
Whistler whirlwind tour
Within a mere 54 hours, or two and a quarter days, I traveled from Vancouver to Whistler, B.C., round trip aboard the Whistler Mountaineer scenic train, Ziptreked across raging Fitzsimmons Creek; skied Blackcomb; shopped the village from one end to the other; and toured the soon-to-open First Nations Cultural Center. And I ate BC foods, especially salmon and cheeses, and drank BC wines from the Okanagan Valley. Whew.
While I wouldn’t advise anyone to do all this in such a whirlwind manner, I can recommend each of these activities. Let’s start with the choo-choo, the Rocky Mountaineer. Excursion trains are so civilized, so relaxing, especially this one, which snakes its way up into the mountains passing a stunning landscape of island-studded waters, raging–in spring–whitewater rivers, soaring snow-topped peaks, and through a tight and deep cavern.
Splurge on the observation car, with its curved glass-windowed top providing unobstructed views accompanied by breakfast and beverage service on the way up and a full, high tea on the return. The car attendants take pride in their work, enjoy their jobs, and spread their enthusiasm, all while explaining the history, flora and fauna, and geology along the route.
When approaching a “Kodak” sight, one for which the engineer slows down the train to a crawl, head for the open-air heritage car for the best photo spot. Highlights include a spectacular canyon, a waterfall, and, of course, the fjord, the southernmost glacial fjord in North America.
On the opposite end of the heartbeat scale is the Ziptrek tour–zipping across lines strung through a coastal rainforest, from treetop to treetop, mountain to mountain, far above rushing torrent of whitewater. I was strapped in via a harness that attached to the line, then wheeeeeee, off I zipped, dangling high above the river valley separating Whistler from Blackcomb mountains. Five zips, three hours, with plenty of downtime waiting for others in the group to go. Would I do it again? Yes, but I’d probably opt for the high-energy, fear-factor tour with the longest line double the length of the longest I did. Then again…
As for skiing. Hey, it was late May. It had been close to 100 degrees–you read that right–the day before I uploaded the gondola and chairs in search of snow. Avalanche danger was high. It was raining. But hey, it was skiing, and there was plenty of snow up high on Blackcomb. Due to the risk of avalanche, not a lot was open, but it was enough to enjoy, despite the rain. And actually, considering everything, the conditions were pretty damn good. Of course, on adjacent Whistler Peak–which next year will be connected to Blackcomb via a peak-to-peak gondola strung along the world’s longest section of unsupported cable (gulp)–mountain bikers were strutting their tricks in the mud.
In June, the new First Nations’ Squamish Lil’wat Cultural Centre is slated to open, honoring the Squamish and Lil’wat tribes. The architecture alone is worth a visit, now add a interactive exhibits, presentations, and a medicinal herbal garden tour.
Now, if you also want to raft, hike, play golf, bike… you’ll need more than 54 hours. That’s the problem with Whistler, there’s just too much to do in too little time.
Maine: By the sea, by the sea…
I spent many a sunny day in my youth on the sands of Cape Elizabeth’s Crescent Beach, and special occasions often meant a dinner at the Crescent Beach Inn. Decades ago, that was torn down and replaced in 1986 by the Inn by the Sea. The beach-front inn has always been ahead of the curve: It was one of the first true luxury properties in Maine; one of the first to welcome pets (at no extra charge!); and one of the first to earn green certification.
Not one to be left behind, the inn has just finished a multi-million dollar renovation, redecorating in handsome understated colors, and will reopen on June 6. Everything’s been spiffed up, redecorated and upgraded, and noteworthy is the addition of a full-service spa.
My dog, Bernie, insists I tell you that this is one cool place to go. Dogs are honored guests in specific pet-friendly rooms and receive bowls, beach towels, blankets, even treats at turn down. Specialty services are available, including gourmet room-service, walking service and day care. And there’s also a doggie bag filled with all sorts of goodies, from treats to toys. Now that’s something to woof about.
The Maine blackfly: the latest buzz…
Ahh, it’s time for the return of the dreaded Maine black flies. Yup, it’s Mother’s Day, and true to the adage, they’ve arrived (click here for a Canadian song about them). Not quite biting yet — for some reason, Maine black flies usually wait until right around Memorial Day to do that, but they’re definitely in full annoyance mode. Bzzzz. Grrrr. And Father’s Day, the traditional close of blackfly season seems oh-so-far away. What’s a Maineah to do? (updated May 2, 2026)
When I used to work in The Forks with rafting, most folks would swear by Avon Skin So Soft as a repellent against Maine black flies I still chuckle when I remember those big, burly guys doused up and smelling so sweet. I wear a netted overtop (which covers my head, too) and overpants when working in the garden. Ben’s and other bug dopes with Deet are very effective, but I worry about the chemicals.
One June, when I was researching a new edition of Moon Maine in the Baxter State Park area, the black flies were so thick that if you swatted at one, you’d hit 30 or so. Ugh. A park ranger suggested tucking Bounce dryer sheets both in my waistband and under a cap. He said it creates a “force field. They’ll swarm but won’t get close enough to bite.”
Of course, if you can’t beat ’em, enjoy ’em. The Maine Blackfly Breeders Association–slogan: We breed ’em you feed ’em–has a few suggestions of how to get the most out of the season. And a selection of merchandise from baseball caps to sweatshirts, stickers to mugs. And it all benefits a good cause.
As the breeders say: May the swarm be with you.
Peak bagger: Bag burger at Sugarloaf
I thought I could do it. I thought I could make it through a winter a Sugarloaf without a Bag Burger. Yeah, right.
At least once I year I give into the craving–usually lured by the enticing aroma–and order one. My weak moment always comes after a full morning of skiing. Always when I’m ravenously hungry. I go into The Bag thinking soup or salad, but somehow, when the waitress shows up, the words Bag Burger, medium rare, with blue cheese, tumble off my tongue.
It’s not just the juicy burger, it’s also those damn curly fries–so perfect, so crispy, so drool-worthy. Of course, The Bag has had nearly 40 years to perfect these things. I’m guessing there aren’t too many other ski area restaurants that rival it for longevity.
So yup, had one this week. It was everything I remembered. Later, as I was chatting with a friend, I mentioned that I’d had my Bag burger for the year. About three nearby voices replied: yeah, me too. Must be something in the spring air–like the scent of burger on the breeze.