Where's the Moose?

     An hour's drive east from the hustle and bustle of Acadia National Park is the park's Schoodic Point. It's described as an "intimate and secluded" place to enjoy biking and hiking, primarily because there's no campground nor frequent bus shuttle service.

     My focus however changed to going inland Maine, away from the coastline. Since last year when I was in Ontario for over a month, I have been hoping to see a moose because they're "YU. .U. .U. .U. .GE" animals.  But no luck, just a lot of teasers.

 I stopped here to eat lunch and sit on my Chinese stool, scanning the lake for moose. No luck.

I stopped here, too. It's perfect moose habitat.

Perfect moose habitat everywhere! But no moose in sight.

     Chef Renauld (retired Forest Service engineer) suggested I spend some time at Baxter State Park, so I headed that way. Maine's highest mountain is located here; Mount Katahdin, elevation 5,267 feet.

     It was increasingly misty as I approached the mountain range. Mount Katahdin by the way is the most northern point of the Appalachian Trail. For one hundred miles from this point, it's considered the wildest section of the AT because there's no roads, no civilization, nothing but nature. Even Baxter State Park has no water pipes or electricity. And vehicle dimension requirements exclude most RVs and trailers from traveling on the park's limited roads.

     The weather report for Mount Katahdin was rainy, foggy and windy. I couldn't see the top (left side of photo) anymore.

     I approached the outskirts of Baxter State Park in the misty rain, listening to satellite radio's classical jazz station 67 (John Coltrane, Thelonius Monk, Herbie Hancock, etc.). Had the road to myself most of the time. I love drives like this!

     It rained all night; I had boondocked at a trailhead parking lot on the outskirts of Baxter State Park. In the morning, I decided to say "Au'voir" to Baxter and continue my drive toward Canada to look for moose. Found this wonderful little road listening to classical jazz with the slow intermittent wipers.

Still no moose. But I found this woman at a rest stop.

     Yvonne has been solo traveling for one year after selling her home in Oregon. She plans to be in Florida later this year. We share a lot of habits. Since entertainment is somewhat limited, we both indulge in mind games during downtimes. Her game of choice is Sudoku puzzles and mine is chess (an app on my Kindle). 

     I've met other interesting folks along the way. One man at another rest stop asked me a zillion questions about La Lair. Met a librarian at Millinocket Library who was as philosophical as me. We discussed Amish "tourism" and the astrological effects of changes in our life every seven years or so. Met a boy scout leader who shared information about his community near Patten, Maine. I sometimes think folks are more willing to talk with a traveling solo woman than with a traveling couple.

Maine's roadside wildflowers love this rain; blooming like crazy.

     Saw this roadside sign; cross country skiers apparently use the wide shoulders during the winter. Notice this sign has no bullet holes? Nice to know that Mainers are polite.

     Spent the night at a hospital parking lot in Caribou. This was my view last night, and it was darker and wetter when I woke up.

     I'm taking my former hiking buddy David's suggestion and heading further east to the Gaspe Peninsula tomorrow.  Je dois améliorer mon français!