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!

Acadia Rocks

     Acadia National Park is 47,000 acres. Once you get there on a crowded bus, there are plenty of trails, for both hiking and biking, and plenty of fresh water lakes to swim or paddle. I swam and paddled in three of them. And of course, plenty of those iconic rocks along the ocean shorelines to explore.

      I asked a Park Ranger how many people get hurt every day, and he said "At least one ambulance run daily, sometimes more, it goes in spurts".

     I saw several artists with easels on the rocks, and I can understand the artisan urge. Probably cubist style?

There's a popular Ocean Trail that skirts the ocean and rocks for several miles. I walked a short section; it was beautiful.

     The gravel-packed Carriage Trails (45 miles) for bicycles was too gravelly for me and too crowded, as I tend to go too fast on my motorized bicycle. So instead of biking, I did several hikes. There are 120 miles of various hiking trails; I did only five of the many loop trails.

     My favorite hike was Eagle Lake to Connors Nubble, on the suggestion of a father/son duo team I had met on the bus. I'm glad I took their advice, it was a great trail. It started low along the lake, then to the top of that mountain in the center of the photo and down another trail. I heard two loons on the lake. They sounded like an oboe, very instrumental and lovely.

The northern view from the top.

The southern view from the top.

Nature changed as I ascended. At the bottom, spruce saplings.

Higher up, gnarled trees struggling to survive.

Lots of roots and rocks. Had to keep my eye on the "blue rectangle" to make sure I was still on the trail.

Wild blueberries at the top! nice reward :)

The trail was sometimes difficult.

Fortunately, I had hiking poles.

         By my third day in Acadia National Park, my mind had done a 180-degree change of perspective. Instead of growling under my breath about all the waits, traffic and crowds, I was now marveling about how efficiently our government employees were helping two million folks enjoy the outdoors at Acadia each year. 

     What changed my mind? Talking with folks on the bus and at the campgrounds. Every single person, young, old, middle-aged, said they loved Acadia and with smiles on their faces (pointing to their young and old kids), proudly proclaimed they've been coming here for years with their kids. Their kids seemed happy and talkative about the trails, too. That's when I realized, all that matters is families are having memorable times. For the rest of their lives, they will probably talk about their adventures at Acadia, on the trails or on the rocks or on the ocean or lake in a boat. The hustle and bustle now seem insignificant and meaningless, eh? 

     By the way, Seawall Campground (on the western lobe of kidney-shaped Mount Desert Island) isn't as busy as Blackwoods Campground (on the eastern lobe of the island). However, most of those wonderful trails to hike and bike are on the eastern lobe of the island. First four nights were spent at Blackwoods, and last two nights were at Seawall. Below is Southwest Harbor (a little village near Seawall) on an early evening of rare rain.

Acadia National Park's Northeast Culture

     I hadn't planned to visit Acadia National Park, just a bunch of rocks and the ocean, so what? But folks told me I must visit the beautiful park, so I made reservations. Because it was their busy time of the year, I couldn't reserve six consecutive days at one campsite, so I made three two-day reservations at two different campgrounds.
     My first check-in meant waiting in line; I was number four and about seven cars were behind me. Each vehicle's registration took about five minutes.

     Everyone is advised to take the free shuttle busses to avoid traffic congestions. So I studied and compared the bike and hike trail map with the bus schedule map which offered seven different routes (color-coded). Little kids at the bus stops helped me decide.

On the bus, it was often standing room only.

Usually transfers are necessary, which means another wait.

When will the bus arrive? There is a sign at each stop that will give ETAs for each bus.

Just one look at all the traffic convinced me the bus was a good decision.

There were large parking lots at several bus depot stations. Perhaps at least 500 maybe 750 parked vehicles at each station.

Bikes, paddle boards and kayaks on every other vehicle it seems.

The favored bus stop was Sand Beach because of the rocks.

I did my best to enjoy it too, but the ocean was way too cold.

This guy seems to be zoning everyone out with a warm beer and earbuds.

     Late in Day Two of my Acadia adventure, I realized a majority of the campers hailed from mostly the Northeast. To them, Acadia's crowds and traffic are nothing out of the ordinary. That was my "A ha!" moment. Next post, a new mindset about Acadia.

Downeast Maine

     I'm getting the hang of it here in Maine. My favorite little historic village, Bath, was in Mid-Coast Maine. I'm now traveling further north in Downeast Maine, which is not down but UP the coast. Turns out, Bath is just a drop in the bucket (tub?) of cute little historic Coastal Maine villages. Everywhere there are huge historic homes and buildings registered with a Historic Society. This home in Belfast was built in 1840 by James White who was a merchant and the town's mayor during the Civil War.

The "White House" yard is home to the largest copper beech tree in Maine. But, all the historic homes have equally beautiful large trees.

     Next door to Belfast's hospital parking lot (my boondocking space for two nights) is the town's city park. The park has a pool, free of charge and miraculously, un-crowded! Of course, I swam an hour as swimming for me is similar to yoga exercising for others. 

Spent a day walking around Belfast admiring not only the historic buildings, but many displays of potted flowers on the ground, on window sills, hanging from hooks, they're everywhere.

Even on country roads, wildflowers galore.

Walking on lawns, I notice tiny flowers.

People plant flowers across the street on property that doesn't belong to them.

And not just many flowers, many boats of all shapes and sizes everywhere.

     Below is the headwaters of the Passagassawakeag River named by the Passamaquoddy tribe which means "a place for spearing sturgeon by torchlight." Threw that in here cause it's funky info :)

I'm still favoring gravel roads off the main coastal road (US 1), to look for moose. But no sightings yet.

No moose here . . . .

     This morning I crossed a river on the Penobscot Narrows Bridge. There's a passenger elevator to the top of the left tower, but I didn't stop to experience it. Fellow travel blogger Steve already shared his experiences.

     By the way, Maine's coastline isn't always flat . . . . 

     For the next four days, I'll be exploring Ellsworth, Maine, just soaking in the culture and wandering until I can check in at my campsite at Acadia National Park.