The Savior: Piscataqua

Oliver Ritchey '27

Every summer my family and I go to a special place, called Acadia National Park, stationed in Maine. It is a relatively remote area, within Mount Desert Island. With long and exhausting years filled with swimming and school, it is rare to have a total break from it all. Whether it be for a day here and there, or the two weeks in August. Once it finally arrives, my family packs our bags and ventures through various terrain in hopes of arriving in a timely fashion. Acadia is roughly a 12 hour trip by car and those hours are grueling within a car full of luggage and people. We grow tired of each other, hearing the lips smacking while someone eats; listening to somebody playing over a video again and again, this leads us praying for repose in our minds. Travelling via VW Atlas, a large SUV with a glossy white exterior, and a contrasting matte deep gray on the inside, looking at it too long can make the eyes go numb and mind go mad. 

Solace arrives like a knight in shining armor when our car begins begging for a drink to maintain function. We finally get to stop along the way to replenish our stockpile of snacks and feed our thirsty car. Better yet, we get to stretch our legs, our sobbing muscle fibers; disappointed with the lack of exercise. Even though my summer break has already begun, it really just feels like another day at work. My brain feels drowsy and my legs like spaghetti; “Why am I spending what little break I have like this?” I ask myself. It feels like there is no light at the end of the tunnel, getting a headache from the fumes of the car, a gross mixture of gas and food, my back aching from sitting too long, it really doesn’t seem worth it. 

But then, just as all hope vanishes, I see something as good as a soldier stumbling upon refuge; The Piscataqua Bridge is approaching us, getting closer and closer, preparing for a warm embrace. And suddenly I recall why this is all worth it. 

The abrupt switch from redundant and bumpy highways, claustrophobic tunnels, and demolished greenery turns into vibrant forests, smooth roads, and vast meadows as far as the eye can see. Located in Kittery, Maine, the Piscataqua Bridge is comparable to the gates of heaven, you go through and suddenly are in a never-ending haven of green. This bridge cleanses my brain, feeling like a multi-ton steamroller plowing over wet cement, a sudden sense of reality washes over me. 

With the fog in my brain having been removed, I realize I am merely an hour from my destination, with the trees and meadows in sight, I am grounded and start to really take it all in, I realize my summer has officially begun; my body begins to relax. As we get off of the bridge, I glance quickly at the river below us and see vibrant fish swimming about effortlessly, like a knife through warm butter. Their lives, so simple, so easy. They don’t understand how lucky they are.

Once we arrive at the cabin we stay in, taking a deep breathe fills your lungs with cool, salty air, with a hint of pine all reminding me of one thing; this is vacation.