The Last Retreat of the Year

 

 

Beautiful Mt. Katahdin

Mt. Katahdin from the top of South Turner Mountain

A long weekend in the Maine woods is a certain way to “take a load off”, as we say here in Maine.  It has the stress release equivalent of a total body massage, incorporating all of the senses and leaves you feeling refreshed in mind and body.

 Years ago, before fibromyalgia claimed my body, I used to fly-fish on wild rivers and hike up mountains but now I leave the high adventure to my husband and I have learned to slow down and experience each blessing as it comes. It’s hard not to spot them in the untamed forests in Baxter State Park in the central part of Maine. 

The water in the numerous streams is crystal clear and ice cold.  It lacks the metallic mineral smell that most brooks seem to have, maybe because the water rushes so fast down numerous waterfalls to reach the river.  Warning signs to boil the water before drinking dissuade hikers from drinking the water that looks so harmless in its clarity.

Over a number of years, former Governor of Maine, Percival Baxter purchased and then gave thousands of acres to the residents of Maine in the form of a State Park. His desire was that the forests remain in a natural and wild state for all of the people who visit, and they have.  There are very few roads in the park (less than five roads in 200,000 acres), but over 75 miles of hiking trails leading to the most remote areas in Maine. The Appalachian Trail, which begin in Georgia, ends at the peak of Mt. Katahdin, Baxter State Parks most recognized wild jewel.   At just shy of one mile high, Mt. Katahdin is a feather in any mountain climber’s hat.

A section of the West Branch of the Penobscot River runs just south of Baxter State Park and offers some of the finest rapids in the country for white water rafters.  There are several adventure companies that offer white water rafting trips down the river, something I have always wanted to do but have never had the courage to try.  The river is also renowned for the natural salmon that lurk in the dark pools behind huge granite boulders and sunken logs. This river used to be used to transport logs down the river to Bangor where they would be cut or shipped to other parts of the country and reminders of this are present today with boom chains obvious here and there on the river.

While my husband fished on the river for salmon I napped, read and wrote in the comfort of the truck cab.  The next day I did the same while he hiked up South Turner Mountain, which took him about three and a half hours, including the hour he spent at the peak taking pictures.  Even this late in the season, blueberries were bountiful near the peak; at lower elevations blueberries peaked a month ago.  We spent one night in a rented camp on Millinocket Lake, enjoying hand feeding Black Ducks, a toasty campfire and each other’s company, knowing this was our last long weekend away for the year