Lobsters, Trees, and Zero-Sum Thinking
Alex had a camp in New Jersey in mid-August, so we were lucky enough to spend some time in the US.
Before camp, we met our friends Susan and Greg in New York City. It was stiflingly hot, but we persevered, fueled by friendship, air-conditioning, and the knowledge that eventually the sun would go down. We toured the UN with our friend Jonas, who gave us an amazing insider’s look, and also visited Columbia University and the American Museum of Natural History.
After dropping Alex off, Mike and I took the opportunity for a quick getaway. Neither of us had been to Maine, so we pointed ourselves north in search of scenery, seafood, and slightly less oppressive temperatures.
We had an amazing time. We did four hikes, covered 23 miles, and emerged with the smug glow of people who have Done A Thing. As Mike likes to say, "All of the hikes had both trees AND hills!" — a sentence that means nothing to most people and everything to two Amsterdam residents who have been living in a flat, tree-adjacent void.
Two of the hikes were in the hills outside Camden, Maine. We climbed to a couple of overlooks and enjoyed some beautiful views. For the first hike, I let ChatGPT plan the route. I asked for a six-mile hike with some elevation gain. Somehow, we ended up hiking 9.5 miles and climbing 2,000 feet. Sigh. Proof positive that AI is still in beta—and that I should be more specific about how much suffering I’m willing to tolerate.
The next two hikes were in Acadia National Park and, this time, planned through AllTrails. Granted, we were there in mid-August, but the park was BUSY. I’ve heard the horror stories about Yosemite, and I don’t think Acadia was quite that bad, but it was still unpleasant having to circle every parking area like vultures waiting for someone to show signs of leaving.
Our second hike in Acadia was called “Jordan Pond and the Bubbles.” Whoever branded this hike either did a fantastic job or a terrible one, depending on your perspective. When I hear “bubbles,” I picture lighthearted, hop-skip-and-jump exploring. Fun! Whimsical! Possibly involving pre-schoolers!
These were not those kinds of Bubbles.
The Bubbles are mountain peaks reached by surprisingly technical trails. Think lowering yourself off ledges, only to discover that your feet are still six inches above the ground when it’s time to let go. It was one of the few hikes I've ever done that left my arms and back sore the next day. Apparently, we had accidentally gone rock climbing without the courtesy of being told in advance.
We’d been wondering whether we were in good enough shape for the hiking we’re planning in Patagonia in January. Let’s just say Maine provided a useful warm-up—and a gentle reminder that Patagonia is unlikely to have been named by the same people responsible for “the Bubbles.”
In addition to hiking, we enjoyed the amazing food—or, as we currently think of it, not Dutch food. I believe I had a lobster roll every day, purely in the interest of research. It turns out Maine lobster really does taste better than Rhode Island lobster. I’m willing to continue investigating this question if additional funding becomes available.
Being back in the US also gave us time to reflect on the differences between the two countries. The main thing I noticed was how often everyday life in the US can feel like a competition.
On American highways, people get into the far-left lane and simply stay there regardless of who's coming up behind them (hint: it's probably Mike). Moving over seems to represent an unacceptable concession, as though letting another car pass means losing a contest no one else knew was happening. In Europe, people mostly stay right except to pass, like functioning members of a society with rules.
Similarly, the US has a fair number of cars and motorcycles that appear to have misplaced their mufflers. They announce their arrival from several zip codes away, as if disturbing everyone else’s peace is a way of declaring, “My enjoyment is more important than your ability to hear yourself think.”
The contrast made me feel that the US can sometimes be a zero-sum country: if I don’t claim this—the left lane, the neighborhood’s peace and quiet, a spot in the grocery line—you’ll get it, and somehow I’ll be worse off.
The Netherlands is known for being a very egalitarian society. In some areas, that can have its drawbacks - entrepreneurship and ambition can get sanded down by consensus. But in day-to-day life, it's genuinely nice not to feel like I'm in a low-grade turf war with my neighbors just to get through Tuesday.
Unless, of course, I’m trying to merge into the bicycle lane in the middle of Amsterdam.
Then all bets are off.
So nice that you got to meet up with Susan and Greg. Your hiking adventures sound like you had a great, sometimes strenuous, time. I’ve read about the lobster being the best back east. Life is an adventure everywhere you go, enjoy.
I'm impressed that you both can still hike and climb like you do. I've resorted to an eBike for most exercise. Of course, traveling the Washington and Oregon coast all summer and every summer, heat is never a problem. I find that many days its even too cold to ride my bike in the middle of summer! Really interesting to see what you end up realizing more and more and feel the differences are. I've gotten to point in the US where I try as much as possible and even drive out of my way to avoid the major highways and interstates. Slow and peaceful is my new jam even in the US.