Something about riding a train while looking out at crummy weather was kinda soothing to me. I've always enjoyed how things look in the rain (I think it's how much it affects the greens) and maybe looking out at the drabness was a way for me to come to terms with what weather lie ahead of me in Maine.
That said, it was it a little tricky getting up there and getting back. As it stood, one really has to take a train to Boston from Chicago if one hopes to make it up to Maine. Given the train schedules, an overnighter was unavoidable on the way out, and I chose to crash on a friend's couch in Brooklyn rather than investigate Boston. This meant then having to make it to Boston the next morning to transfer yet again for a train up towards Brunswick.
But whatever, in comparison to the next few days hopping from one train to another was an easy enough task. I'm not one to sit around in stations during transfers/layovers, so these are opportunities to have mini adventures- be them in dry weather or hilarious downpours. Ironically, after all the clouds and wind and storms involved with the ride out and the three days of touring, when I threw in the towel and started heading back home I was treated to incredibly nice weather. Sunshine stuck around until I was out of New England. The weather patterns seamed malicious and hurtful, and for a moment I considered going back. I didn't, but when I finally made it back to Chicago, I checked the forecast in Maine. Sitting there seeing the weather had turned back to low temps and rain, I spitefully blurted out a single word. "Good."