Archive for the ‘Journals’ Category

Reflections

Friday, August 21

12 PM

Months went into the planning of this trip. Being prepared and having everything well thought out always makes for a better experience.

However, there were times when things don’t go according to plan. It’s those times that experience; creativity and the will to find a way make all the difference.

In an article for the Maine Scholar, David Rothenberg wrote of the North Maine Woods, “The wild is more than a named place, an area to demarcate. It is a quality that beguiles us, a tendency we both flee and seek. It is the unruly, what won’t be kept down, that crazy love, that path that no one advises us to take–it’s against the rules, it’s too far, too fast, beyond order, irreconcilable with what we are told is right.”

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Summer Journal Day 16

Sunday, August 16

8 AM

I’m back in the tent sheltered from the bugs. I made breakfast, eggs and potatoes with coffee and juice. The bugs are very bad. We are just a mass of mosquito bites. The only way to eat was to walk along the lake while eating. That way fewer bugs were able to land. The bugs were in my eyes while I was cooking.

The loons had quite a chorus out on the big lake last night. They sang us to sleep. About 6:30 this morning a loon was calling only to be answered by its echo. It kept this up for about 10 minutes.

The heavens were glorious last night, what a show with the stars reflecting off the water.

Chris has a smudge fire going so that we can take down the tent. It’s hot and very humid this morning, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky.

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Summer Journal Day 15

Saturday, August 15

7:30 PM

This is the first chance I’ve had to write all day. I’m sitting on my rolled up sleeping bag inside our tent in a campsite in Northwest Cove on Moosehead Lake. It’s far too buggy outside to write. We’re told the weather should be nice tomorrow, but that rain is expected Monday.

Little Lyford was once again great. We met some very nice people. Joe made pancakes with real maple syrup and sausage along with coffee and juice for breakfast. He also cooked the latest fish Chris caught.

We ran into another moose on our way out to Greenville. I think that makes nine moose sightings so far.

We decided to skip doing more laundry while in Greenville. I think we have enough clean stuff to last a few more days. Our trip is winding down and while I’ve recovered from my near death experience at Gulf Hagas, I think we’re both a little tired. I know we’re spoiled after sleeping in a bed and having hot showers. We stopped by the Indian Hill Trading Post while in Greenville. It’s just a nice place to poke around. Chris ran right downstairs to the fishing department, while I found a couple of books on Maine life that looked interesting. We picked up more ice and grabbed some soda and beer.

We topped off the gas tank at the trading post and shortly after noon we headed up Route 15 toward Rockwood. Our plan, as it stood, was to enter the North Maine Woods at the 20-Mile Checkpoint and see where the road took us. At the gate I showed our season passes and the guy asked where we were going. For a lack of any better answer I said Hurricane Pond, so that’s what he wrote down.

Not too far inside the North Maine Woods gate we came to a turn for Canada Falls. We drove done the side road and took a look at the stream and the falls coming down from the lake. It all drains into Seboomook Lake and eventually the West Branch of the Penobscot River.

Looking up the South Branch of the Penobscot River

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Summer Journal Day 14

Friday, August 14

12 PM

I’m not dead, although I still feel close to death.

My feet are feeling better, my knee isn’t so bad, my back is in knots and I can’t move my neck. The Ibuprofen isn’t making a dent in what’s going on here. If I go canoeing today it will only be for a burial at sea.

Thankfully Chris has been very involved in fishing. Joe cooked up last night’s trout for him for breakfast. He was very proud of it and enjoyed being the center of attention as he ate it this morning. We also had scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and coffee.

It only took him about a half hour and he was back with a nine inch trout. He dropped it off at the kitchen. He sat across from me as I lay in bed and told me about the fish. Chris then ate a sandwich, had some chips and a cookie and was out the door for more fishing.

One of the trout Chris caught at Second Little Lyford Pond

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Summer Journal Day 13

Thursday, August 13

9 PM

I think I almost killed myself today. I may still die.

We were up early and on the trail immediately after breakfast. Joe made French toast, with homemade maple syrup and sausage for breakfast which is one of Chris’ favorites.

We decided rather than drive the mile to the bridge that we’d hike right from camp. It would add just under two miles to our hike, but we had the time.

Gulf Hagas, sometimes called the Grand Canyon of Maine,  is awe inspiring to see. Photographs can never do justice to the beauty of the falls and canyons. But, be prepared to hike.  Something this beautiful doesn’t come free.

Posing on a lower ledge near the Head of the Gulf

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Summer Journal Day 12

Wednesday, August 12

12 PM

Soaked, cold, tired and suffering with bug bites, we stayed inside last night. The guy at the Telos Checkpoint recommended a place in Millinocket and we had a chance to get our laundry done.

At 6:30 this morning we took showers and went over to gas up the truck. The Irving station happened to have a Dunkin Donuts, so Chris had some breakfast. We stopped by the market for ice and a few items we thought we’d need and then headed for Little Lyford.

Back in the woods, but not North Maine Woods land, the Appalachian Mountain Club has a couple of lodges. Little Lyford is one of the three they maintain in the KI-Jo Mary area. We had spent three days here last year and really enjoyed it. This year we thought once again we’d break up our trip with a three day visit, sleep in a bed in our own cabin, take hot showers and eat someone else’s cooking.

I wanted to do some exploring before heading for Little Lyford, but Chris was tired of wandering and just wanted to get there and get settled. It was a nice ride down Route 11 to the Katahdin Iron Works Gate. A paved road, after all those logging roads felt nice. There was very little other traffic and we were back in the woods by 10 am.

I had wanted to hike Gulf Hagas last year but because of the weather wasn’t able. I’m looking forward to it this time. There is an old logging road bridge over the Pleasant River that we were told about last year that I think we’ll use to cross. Rather than drive back to the usual starting spot from which most people begin the Gulf hike, we’ll do it backwards. That way we won’t need water shoes or sandals to cross the river.

We entered the KI-Jo Mary area through the Katadhin checkpoint, the site of the old iron works.

Furnace at Katahdin Iron Works

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Summer Journal Day 11

Tuesday, August 11

2:15 PM

We were up at 6 am this morning and the sky looked like more rain. We skipped breakfast and broke camp before the rains came. The bugs were again relentless. They were swarming and in our eyes and ears. We did have a few mosquitoes for breakfast.

With the truck loaded Chris took us on a last run down the runway and then out to the Realty Road. It is a weekday and the logging trucks are running, so I took the wheel after a while.

I remembered that I had left our saw hanging on the canoe rack and it was gone. We turned back to Red Pine and found it lying on the runway. I guess you could say that that wasn’t the first time I’ve been a hazard to aviation.

Just before reaching Clayton Lake we came across a young moose standing in the road. We stopped and she stopped. It was a stare down. I let the truck roll forward and she turned and trotted down the road. After a while she found a break in the brush and jumped into the woods.

Young moose on the American Realty Road.

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Summer Journal Day 10

Monday, August 10

1 PM

It rained last night and we slept late. The Achilles tendon on my left ankle for some reason is very sore. I don’t know why, but it kept me awake last night. Ibuprofen didn’t help.

It didn’t get cold last night, but we were ready with our wool blankets. I had mine spread on top of my sleeping bag and Chris put his inside his bag.

We played Yahtzee and Chris won. I then read a bit before trying to sleep.

About 9:30 this morning Frank and Joey pulled into camp. What a small world this 3.5 million acres is. This is the second time we’ve run into them. They were checking campsites and cleaning fire pits. I invited them to breakfast and they were quick to say yes. While they finished their work I cooked up some eggs, bacon, home fries and made a big pot of coffee. We hadn’t seen each other since Chris and I were camped on the Machias River. There was some catching up to do. Joey wanted to know if Chris had tried out his fishing hole on the Mooseleuk River and wanted to see the new fly rod. They asked about Deboullie and what we had done after that. Frank, who is maybe somewhere between 50-60 years old with a full gray beard and bright orange suspenders, a hat with a wide 360 degree brim and a constant smile, gave me today’s newspaper. He gets up at 2 am every morning to deliver the Bangor Daily News in Presque Isle.

“You do what you can to get by,” he smiled. “We don’t work here for the money. It’s a way of life.”

We talked about life in the North Maine Woods, winters, summers and all the things to do. Joey grew up in the woods. When he heard that Chris was driving on the runway, he remarked that he had been driving up here on the logging roads since he was six. He also canoed 54 miles of the St. John River when he was 10 years old.

We talked together for about an hour, but they had to get back to work. We topped off their coffee cups and they thanked us for the meal. Then they got back in their silver Chevy pick up truck and headed out to the runway and back into the woods. There is something to be said for the simple things.

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Summer Journal Day 9

Sunday, August 9

7:30 AM

Camp is empty this morning. Don took Jake and Garry to the Big Black River. They left at 5 am. It’s cool and overcast right now. I hope there is no rain in the forecast. We both took hot showers. Who knows when we’ll be able to do that again?

It was another beautiful night with a big moon over the lake and plenty of stars. We were in bed by 10:30 and slept well. Chris finished his book before falling asleep. I’ve never seen him read a book so quickly. He thinks I should read it. Maybe I will.

We’ll check with Andrea about the weather this morning and see if she has a muskie lure or two for Chris.

Our plan is to head over to the St. John River near Daaquam. We won’t be able to visit Daaquam as Moody Bridge over the St John has been removed. Apparently it was in disrepair for several years and only light vehicles were allowed to use it. It was of no use to the paper companies if the logging trucks couldn’t cross, so they just left it until it reached a point where for safety’s sake it had to come down. Bob has a camp over in Daaquam where his wife stays while he works at Ross. Without the bridge he has to make a 38-mile detour to get home. Since the bridge closed he has stayed at Ross during the week and goes home only on weekends.

We hope to camp on the St. John for a couple of days and see if Chris can land a muskie. Don caught a 12-pound fish recently. Don had mentioned that the current in the St. John is running pretty quick right now because of all the rain. He cautioned us about putting the canoe in.

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Summer Journal Day 8

Saturday, August 8

6:45 AM

Boy it’s cold outside. The temperature is definitely in the 40’s. What a good decision it was to stay here last night. Chris re-fired the wood stove this morning and it’s nice and warm in the camp.

We walked up to the shower just behind the kitchen at 6 o’clock this morning and got cleaned up. That hot water felt good. It was our first hot shower in over a week and for the both of us our second shower this month. What luxury.

The clouds cleared and the moon over the lake last night was spectacular. I got up and went outside after midnight just to enjoy the view. Chemquasbamtocook, or Ross Lake is big. Chemquasbamtocook is an Abenaki Indian word that means “where there is a large lake together with a river.” Chemquasbamtocook Stream runs out of the north end of the lake through Clayton Lake and over to the Allagash Waterway at the foot of Long Lake.

While I can’t say for sure, the Ross name probably comes from John Ross, a renowned lumberman who worked these woods in the mid 19^th century.

Ross was the leader of an elite group of river drivers known as the Bangor Tigers. This collection of unruly Canadians, Indians, Irish, and native Yankees was known for their ability to get logs down any river in any conditions. In their time they were the toughest  group of untamed bastards going and a close knit band of brothers that took great pride in their ability to do what others said couldn’t be done. Their fame and the name of their leader, John Ross is a chapter of American history similar to that of Robert Rogers and his Rangers, but has yet to be told.

The sunrise this morning was another of nature’s shows. The lake lit up in sparkling white lights in the early sun.

We’re clean and smelling good and I’m about to cook a big breakfast.

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