The Highland Lighthouse in Truro, Massachusetts, on the Atlantic side of the Cape.
It didn't take long for us to find a restaurant that looked promising, although we'd never heard of it before. It was called the Bugaboo Creek Steak House. This one corner of a shopping plaza, right there in the heart of New England, was done up to resemble a mining lodge from the Canadian Rockies. It looked as though Walt Disney himself had directed the design. We were greeted outside by a huge carved wood statue of a moose. Inside, an imposing rock fireplace commanded the center of the dining room. The stuffed heads of such northern critters as bison, deer, and caribou hung here and there on the walls among all manner of north country memorabilia. The chandeliers were made to look like they were crafted from antlers. Snowshoes dangled from the rafters. I think I remember seeing a Royal Canadian Mounted Police (Mountie) uniform and the characteristic hat somewhere.
Ken's photo of the steak house. There's Mr. Moose on the left.
The food choices were pretty much what you'd expect in a rugged Rockies-themed steak house: Classic Steaks! Big Mountain Burgers! Summit Sides! Mountain Outfitters' Specials! I suppose even the most dyed-in-the-deck-shoes New Englander needs a change from his near constant diet of lobster and scrod now and again. Ken and I resisted the larger meals (although the Moosebreath Burger was tempting) and we both ordered something called a Lodge Chicken Salad. The salads came garnished with the grilled breast of a free-range Canadian Snowbird Chicken (I hope it's not an endangered species). It turned out to be mighty tasty, eh?
Ken's photo of the interior. Yes, that's a stuffed raccoon on the left. Appetizing. See the bison's head on the wall?
After lunch we looked forward to the short drive out to the Cape. As it was a Friday afternoon and the weather was beautiful, there were a few other people looking forward to the same thing. And all of us chose the same moment to converge on the two bridges that cross the man-made canal that separates the mainland from the cape itself. There we sat. And sat. And crawled a little. But mostly sat. For about an hour. The bridge we had chosen was down to a single lane because of construction. The other was backed up just as bad handling the overflow.
But we made it. We got checked into the hotel (the staff were very friendly and helpful) and headed up the cape to Provincetown, about ninety minutes away, for dinner.