I made a determined attempt to get to the National Folk Festival in Bangor this past weekend. Yes, I did. Really. Having missed the festival the last two years I didn't want to miss out on all the planned fun and music before the event moved on to another location is the US (it changes venues every three years). Well, things don't always work out. And sometimes that's just fine.

Friday night I drove up to my friend Kathy's camp on spectacular Branch Pond in Ellsworth. College and Bangor-townie friends of mine have been gathering there for years. It's a sweet spot. Spent most of the evening laughing it up around the camp fire, although I did manage to to get in some moonlight paddling on the lake. I kayaked while Tim, my oldest friend in the world, and his dog Ringo paddled along in a canoe. The stars were brilliant and the lake like glass. Just as dawn was about to break the tired crew finally came ashore and hit the sack.

The plan for Saturday was to make a big breakfast and head for Bangor to make a full day of it at the folk fest. We made it through breakfast all right. We then loaded up Pete's van and headed out. But when we reached Route 1A, the heavily traveled main road between Bangor and Ellsworth/Bar Harbor, we knew we were in big trouble. It took ten minutes just to make a left turn north. And it was truly bumper-to-bumper traffic from there, all the way to Bangor. We quickly calculated that we would be much older and grayer and quite a bit more ornery by the time we ever got to Bangor. So Pete whipped the van around and drove us back to camp.

We were briefly disappointed but then quickly snapped into action to salvage the day. And what a day--blue skies and 80 degrees! Pete backed his van up to the edge of the lake, put the speakers out, and turned up the volume. If we couldn't get to the folk fest, why, we'd have it come to us right here (thanks to Maine Public Radio, of course). And there we stayed, relaxing in the sun, throwing back an adult beverage or two, swimming, reading, BBQing, making the occasional foray out on the lake in the kayak or canoe... and listening to some terrific music. We missed actually being there and listening to the shows live, but...

Sunday... ditto above. Bangor plans to continue the tradition with the American Folk Festival next year. I promise I'll get there. Really.