I left yesterday evening, and as I was driving down Route 95 at dusk, looking at the orange slanted sunlight hitting only the top of the trees, I thought I would like to live up here. The roads have so few cars you can practically do a u-turn without bothering to check for oncoming traffic. (But the occasional semi-trailer does come around, barreling along at 80 mph.) The low hills are covered with fields, patches of blue forest and solitary old farmhouses. The people have this funny habit (as do other people in small towns): They'll note you as a stranger somewhere doing something ordinary -- like working out at the gym or taking a walk or having coffee at a cafe -- and then, if they happen to run into you again, they'll say, "Hey, I saw you at ____!"Houlton has a different feel from southern Maine; or rather, it's more intensely southern Maine except with fewer trees. But it's really far from intense!
Downtown Houlton.
It was bitterly cold when I was there.
This picture below was taken of Route 1 in Houlton 10 years ago. Today, just a decade later, this strip looks like Route 1 anywhere: it's built up with chain restaurants, gas stations, expanded car dealerships and motels, a Wal-Mart, Shop N' Save, Mardens, et al. The latest economic boom is really obvious in this rural outpost. That illusory economic boom, rather. The photos below are of the big Irving gas station and truck stop on the strip.
This kid below is the third generation of Yorks running the biggest car dealership in Aroostook County (on Route 1). They just invested $3 million to add an addition to handle their rapid growth, which, this guy told me, has been based on giving out subprime loans over the last five years to cash-poor car buyers. Revenues (up to now, that is): $20 million. Employees: 50.
Here's Houlton's town manager (below) holding up hand cuffs made at the local handcuff factory, Smith & Wesson. Ten years ago he was given these cuffs, the factory's 3 millionth made in 20 years. Smith & Wesson just made its 6 millionth cuff a couple weeks ago. They're the biggest supplier of handcuffs in the world, helping policemen, totalitarian regimes and S&M devotees everywhere!
This guy below, along with three other businessmen who became friends at Iraq war protests in northern Maine, are starting a new company. They plan on buying canola and mustard seed from local farmers to press into oil for salad dressings and tractor biofuel. (The oil is exactly the same for both uses.) This man was lovely, gentle and mild, with a hint of humor.
This young couple, who both have engineering degrees from a respectable university, are starting a potato Vodka company in Houlton to rival Maine's second potato Vodka maker, Cold River Vodka. Their potato vodka, they say, will have no flavor. I like the idea of starting a company with a product that has no discernible characteristics -- is invisible, odorless and flavorless, and yet still sells for $19.
