WHICH WAY?

For years, I have been compiling a list of “must see” sites in Maine. To be sure, Maine is a huge state, and the distance between points of interest often reaches to more than 100 miles. For this reason, location rather than preference often choses the next day trip.

But there’s always the exception. The “World Traveler Sign” in Lynchville was one. Its “in-nowhere-ness” made it easy to say “not this time.” Then, in April, I thought, “Why not?” Usually, I choose the theme of a blog by flipping through my photos until one pops out, as if saying, “Don’t I remind you of….” Not so with the World Traveler Sign. Rather, when I first read about it (long before I ever thought of writing blogs), Rome’s Milliarium Aureum immediately came to mind…

But, before I continue, I must confess that I took some liberties with this blog, as I thought it would be fun to share with you how I plan a trip.

Since the “World Traveler Sign” is almost 100 miles from Southport, I wanted to find other sites nearby. After a few hours of research, I found several. The next task was to chart the route. Five days later, we were off!

Lewiston was the first stop. Our plan was to stop at the Bates College Art Museum and check out the senior art projects. While not my style, they definitely were creative and engaging. Then, with our artistic side satisfied, we started heading further north. As we did, an airplane and military tank, right by the road, caught my attention. It had to be a “site”—but certainly not one on my list! As we passed an “enter” sign, we thought, “Why not?” Reversing direction, we then took the turn!

The site was the Veterans Park Memorial. The plane was a Vietnam-era A-7 Corsair fighter jet the tank, a 1960s-era M60A3. I know nothing about military equipment, but appreciated the care taken to honor this equipment and the veterans who died serving our country. As we walked about the park, we heard water burbling (love that word!). There, just yards away, were the Great Falls of Lewiston. What a sight! Actually, the waters of the Androscoggin River seemed a cheering applause for life itself. If you get a chance, take that same detour!

Our next stop was lunch at an old mill-turned-restaurant in Harrison, a gathering place for locals. The warmth of the welcome was palpable, even by the bespectacled pirate-mannequin climbing a rope while holding a knife with his teeth.

Now it was on to Lynchville. I could feel my body tensing, as excitement gripped me. “You have reached your destination,” Google announced! But all we saw was a large yard filled with literally everything—huge sculptured bears, little sculptured bears, pinwheels, an English telephone booth, birdhouses, et cetera, et cetera. I reprogrammed Google, but it still said, “You have reached your destination.” Back we went to the main road and retraced the route ever so slowly. As we came to “et cetera,” we caught sight of a white picket fence that we had missed. Within, standing tall, but definitely overshadowed by the “et cetera” behind and around it, was the sign.

“Which way?” the arrows seemed to ask. The choices definitely would catch any visitor’s attention. Norway, Paris, Denmark, Naples, Sweden, Poland, Mexico, Peru, or China? Norway at 14 miles was the closest China at 94 miles was the farthest. Impossible, you say. Well, not in Maine!

History says that, in the 1800s, it became fashionable for Mainers to name their towns after important events. Let’s take two of these towns as examples. Tradition says that, in 1818, the people of Mexico so named their town in honor of the people who, since 1810, had been fighting to free Mexico from Spain. As for Denmark: In 1807, when the British navy attacked Copenhagen, Mainers remembered how, years earlier—1775, to be exact—the British navy had destroyed Portland (Maine). However, instead of capitulating or fleeing, the Mainers had used the incident to rally support for independence for the colonies. So, to show their support for the Danes, the Mainers named their town “Denmark.”

With my curiosity satisfied and photos taken, it was time to turn back. But it was mid-afternoon, time for one more stop. My research had mentioned a “must-see” in Woodstock, a small town some 25 miles to the northeast. According to newspaper articles, the town was home to the world’s largest telephone. For decades, the area had been serviced by the Bryant Pond Telephone Company, the last hand-cranked phone company in the United States. The owners, Elden and Barbara Hathaway, ran the system from their home and they, along with their customers, resisted every effort to change to direct dial.

Even after the Hathaways sold the company in 1981, the resistance continued. Then, in 1983, direct dial won. To commemorate the hand crank, the town erected a 14-foot “candlestick” memorial in 2008.

Not sure how many of you readers have made it this far! To be sure, my enthusiasm overwhelmed me. I have not forgotten my present to past theme. So, on to my thoughts about the Milliarium Aureum (“Golden Milestone”)!

If you visit the Forum in Rome, tour guides will show you a fragment known as the Milliarium Aureum. Most likely they will say it is all that remains of the original monument that marked the spot where the main roads that spread across the Roman world met.

Historical fact tells the story a bit differently. Augustus, Rome’s first emperor, commissioned the Milliarium Aureum when he became supervisor of roads in 20 B.C. and had it placed near the Forum. Augustus saw the marker as the hub of all the main roads crisscrossing the Roman world. Historical records confirm that there were stone pillars along the main roads of the Italian peninsula. They also note that each pillar was inscribed with the distances in miles between it and other pillars (a Roman mile consisted of 1,000 paces). According to the ancients, inscribed on some pillars were city names and the distances to/from them. As for the Milliarium, the fragment in the Forum is actually too large to have been part of the original marker, as described in ancient texts. However, the idea of one international marker most likely led to the oft-quoted phrase “all roads lead to Rome.”

For me, the significance of the Roman milestone is its human aspect. All of us—past and present—want to know where we are, what the “hubs” are, and how far it is ¬to those “hubs.” The “where” and “which way”—whether it be to the Forum, home, or the next adventure stop—matter little!​

Join me next time when Maine—Window to World trains its lens on another part of the world.

To read past blog entries, go to: ivycloseimages.com/blog-maine-window-to-the-world.html

Comments are welcome: rosalie@ivycloseimages.com