Expanding Horizons With a Summer Job

Last year about this time, I asked my 20-year-old son, Alex, what he was doing for the summer. I suggested (harangued, he would say) a job at a national park.

Sometimes my suggestions are received less than enthusiastically. But this time Alex saw the possibilities: a summer job away from home, on his own, with other adventurous kids in an exciting, new place. It all sounded--well, I believe the term was “awesome.”

He applied to five national parks (Zion in Utah, Denali in Alaska, Acadia in Maine, Yellowstone in Wyoming and Yosemite in California) and got offers from concessionaires at the last three. I shamelessly pushed for Acadia (although Alex would probably say “harangue” applies here too).

I hadn’t been to Acadia since I was 12, and here was the perfect excuse to go back: A mom’s gotta visit. So while Alex would experience a part of the country different from the West Coast, I would enjoy a getaway of my own.

Alex had been to Yellowstone and Yosemite on family vacations; Acadia was a complete unknown. He learned that the park covers 30,300 acres of Mount Desert Island, a lobster-claw-shaped piece of land divided into two lobes by Somes Sound, the only fiord in the Lower 48. The island is about 14 miles long and eight miles wide, halfway up Maine’s coast and connected by causeway to the mainland.

Bar Harbor, the main village, would provide Alex a base for all sorts of adventures: boating on the North Atlantic, hiking Acadia’s peaks, wandering quaint Maine towns with 19th century summer “cottages” (translation: mansions).

My son made his decision. He booked an airline ticket to the East Coast.

Alex sounded exhilarated when he called from a Main Street phone booth the night he arrived in Bar Harbor. Maine was the most amazing place, and he couldn’t believe he was spending the summer there. He saw so many kids his age from across the country, and the town looked full of life. He talked about the rocky coast, the green scenery, all the town parks (he hadn’t seen Acadia yet). He even noticed the architecture: The houses were tall and old.

He assured me that Bar Harbor was so incredibly beautiful that he didn’t care if he didn’t make a single friend all summer. Three hours later, he called back to say he was having an impromptu party with his new roommates and the kids next door.

It wasn’t until midsummer that my ex-husband, Marc, and I ventured to Bar Harbor for a five-day visit with Alex.

For Easterners, the town has long been a summer destination for the wealthy, including the Carnegies, Vanderbilts and Rockefellers. John D. Rockefeller donated about one-third of Acadia’s land and built the park’s 57 miles of carriage roads, the car-free joy of bikers and hikers. These days the island is packed in summer with campers, B&B-goers; and the truly blessed, who rent homes.

Before our arrival, Alex checked out places to stay and decided that we’d be happy at Town Motel and Moseley Cottage Inn, four blocks from his apartment. The motel part of the complex was plain-looking, but the three-story, yellow Victorian B&B; section was filled with antiques.

The motel was on a residential street, nice and homey. Our room lacked air-conditioning, but with some of Maine’s wonderfully foggy days to come, that wouldn’t be a problem.

By the time we arrived in July, we hadn’t seen Alex for five weeks. He met us at our B&B;, hopping over the front porch railing and talking a mile a minute about this paradise of his. He glowed.

Alex was working at the Jordan Pond Ice Cream and Fudge Shop on Main Street. He lived upstairs in housing owned by his employer, park concessionaire Acadia Corp. Four apartments each housed four or five employees.

Their communal deck overlooked the harbor, and the kids would gather before and after shifts, even during breaks. They threw parties, held barbecues, chatted. Someone always was around if Alex wanted company.

Alex was earning $7 an hour, but oh, the perks! When the kayaks weren’t rented to paying customers, employees could use them in supervised classes. The ponds (Maine-speak for lakes) and calm coves offered abundant possibilities. Their flotillas went in and out of remote bays where Alex and his friends could glimpse summer cottages through the spruce, pine and tamarack trees.

Then there was the Margaret Todd, the first four-masted schooner to sail New England waters in more 50 years. When it wasn’t fully booked, park employees could join the two-hour sunset cruises. (Tourists pay $26 for the same experience.) If they wanted, the employees served as crew as the boat sailed around the Porcupine Islands in the bay. One girl brought a guitar and sang Bob Dylan songs.

Alex could see midnight movies at the Criterion, the town’s only theater, a lovingly restored Art Deco building. Or he could wait until low tide and walk the sand bar to Bar Island for a few hours. Alex was working full-time, but to him, this was a vacation.

For our first night on the island, Alex took his father and me to the Jordan Pond House in the middle of Acadia. Unlike Alex’s ice cream shop, the restaurant actually looks out over serene Jordan Pond--at 150 feet, the deepest in the park. (In my determination to get Alex to Acadia, I had told him he’d be selling ice cream by the lake--an honest mistake.)

We each ordered two of the Jordan Pond House’s famous popovers, big, puffy things to be eaten immediately, while the steam is rising.

Then we rushed to the top of Acadia’s Cadillac Mountain for sunset, Alex in the back seat regaling us with stories of his treks on the shady trail here. Cadillac, at 1,530 feet, is the tallest peak on the U.S. Atlantic seaboard.

At the top, some families had gathered to picnic. The sky was clear, and we could see much of the island, its inlets and its fishing villages. Some folks drive to the top before dawn, so they can be among the first in the country to see sunrise. For us, though, sunset was fine (and warmer).

The trees (maple, birch, fir) seemed smaller than their Western cousins to Alex, though I’m not sure I agree. Acadia, founded in 1919 as Lafayette National Park and renamed in 1929, also looked better maintained than some Western ones, Alex said--more trail upkeep, more signs.

The crowd also was different from what he was used to: more traditional, clean-cut and down-to-earth, he said.

The nights he worked, he slipped us free ice cream cones when we stopped by the shop. And he got us a discount on blueberry jam, one of the specialties hawked in the shops around town.

We took him to buffet brunch at the stately Bar Harbor Inn, where I still remember my father splurging on shrimp cocktail for me when I was 12. This time the dish to remember was waffles and blueberries, a huge bowl of the sweetest, itsy-bitsiest blueberries I have ever tasted. I went back several times, ignoring the omelet bar and towering seafood platters.

The inn is a staid old place that commands a choice lot in the center of town, the dining room overlooking the harbor. The refined atmosphere contrasted with Bar Harbor’s touristy downtown.

We also took Alex to several dinners he couldn’t afford on his own. The best was at the Burning Tree in the nearby town of Otter Creek, where diners feast on local seafood, such as grilled cod, and all the vegetables are grown in the restaurant’s garden. The lettuce, corn and tomatoes were fresh and tasted pure. We couldn’t remember food this good in L.A.

On Alex’s days off, we drove to nearby Blue Hill Peninsula, where we explored crafts shops. (I bought three hand-loomed scarves.)

We drove farther down the peninsula, to Castine. It’s almost silly to single out one of these coastal towns as the prettiest, but Castine is special, with its Dutch elm-lined streets and dozens of 18th and 19th century Georgian and Federalist houses. The Maine Maritime Academy is here, and we got to see its training ships. I’m convinced these visits expanded Alex’s idea of the state.

We saw Maine through different prisms--generational prisms. I brought a list of restaurant and sightseeing recommendations methodically compiled from guidebooks and the Internet. Alex used his grapevine. He noticed how all the teenagers hanging out at the town parks went to reggae night at a local club.

His parents? Well, we felt as if we were stepping back in time--the days felt more easygoing, the foods were more old-fashioned, even the air seemed crisper.

Our last meal together was blueberry pancakes at Jordan Restaurant, an authentic mid-century diner in Bar Harbor. Then we parents had to fly back to L.A., while Alex had another month in his time warp. I envied him.

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GUIDEBOOK

Town and Country in Bar Harbor, Acadia National Park

Getting there: US Airways provides connecting service from LAX to Hancock County-Bar Harbor Airport in Trenton, Maine. Restricted round-trip fares start at $731.

Getting around: Bar Harbor is a small, walkable town, but you’ll need a rental car to see the other parts of Mount Desert Island. Seventeen Island Explorer buses drop off visitors (and bikes) at major hotels, campgrounds, downtowns and popular sites such as Bubble Pond and Otter Cliff. These free buses run daily from June 23 through Labor Day. Telephone (207) 667-5796.

Where to stay: Town Motel and Moseley Cottage Inn, 12 Atlantic Ave., Bar Harbor, ME 04609; tel. (800) 458-8644 or (207) 288-5548, fax (207) 288-9406, Internet https://www.mainesunshine.com/townmotl. On a quiet street close to bustling Main Street. Filled with Victorian-era furnishings. Doubles start at $98 for summer.

The Golden Anchor Inn, 55 West St., Bar Harbor, ME 04609; tel. (800) 328-5033 or (207) 288-5033, fax (207) 288-3661, Internet https://www.goldenanchorinn.com. Modern two-story motel is plain, but harbor location is excellent. Double rooms with a view start at $155.

Ledgelawn Inn, 66 Mount Desert St., Bar Harbor, ME 04609; tel. (800) 274-5334 or (207) 288-4596, Internet https://www.barharborvacations.com. Historic mansion a short walk to shops and restaurants. Doubles start at $125.

Where to eat: The Burning Tree, 69 Otter Creek Drive (Route 3), Otter Creek (five miles south of Bar Harbor); local tel. 288-9331. Local fish and vegetables from its own garden. Reservations essential. Dinner only; reopens for season in mid-June. Entrees are $18 to $22.

Bar Harbor Inn, Newport Drive, Bar Harbor; tel. 288-3351, fax 288-5296, Internet https://www.barharborinn.com. Traditional foods in tasteful dining room. The inn has a dress code for dinner but not for its lavish Sunday brunch. Dinner entrees are $17 to $31; brunch is $18.

Jordan Restaurant, 80 Cottage St., Bar Harbor; tel. 288-3586. Old-fashioned diner with wooden booths, menus on the paper place mats. Try blueberry pancakes or chowders. Breakfast and lunch only, $5 to $7.

Summer job resources: The Internet site https://www.coolworks.com is a clearinghouse for information on seasonal jobs with the National Park Service and concession companies. P.O. Box 272, Gardiner, MT 59030; tel. (406) 848-2380.

Another site, https://www.sep.nps.gov, lists seasonal jobs with the park service but doesn’t include concession companies. Aply by Internet or phone, tel. (202) 208-5074.

For more information: Bar Harbor Chamber of Commerce, P.O. Box 158, Bar Harbor, ME 04609; tel. (207) 288-5103, Internet https://www.barharborinfo.com.