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

 

 

 

 

 

Heavenly Maine Retreat

Quite often, I think about how blessed I am. All I have to do is read the paper or watch the news and it is all conformed to me again–I am truly blessed.  Eventually I will get to the point of this post, but right now I am headed off onto a tangent. Just a warning.

I own my own home. I am healthy and have money in the bank. Enough to retire if we wished, but it’s too soon. We own our cars, have four healthy children (not one of them is in jail!) and five and a half grandchildren.  We go to the Church of our choice on Sunday and pray anytime we want to, no matter who is watching.  How blessed we are, yet how often we complain. Okay, I’m now going to the main topic…

We have a friend that owns a camp on a remote shore of Moosehead Lake in Northern Maine.  He gladly lends it out to any friend who wants to enjoy it.  I have had the pleasure of taking some of my granddaughters there to swim, play, roll around in the dirt and eat s’mores by campfire’s edge. It gives him great pleasure to know that this simple camp gives others pleasure.

My husband and I were there for four blessed days last week, and had unusually wonderful weather accompanying us.  Although the weather had been cool and rainy for weeks, the lake was warm and welcoming. Blueberries were plentiful and we brought home 10 quarts in ziplock bags.  We, well, I slept in every morning and arose to the smell of coffee, bacon and blueberry muffins.  My incredible husband brought be coffee in bed every single morning. He often does this at home too, which is one of the reasons he is to be called incredible. 

We fed black ducks bread scraps off the end of the dock, watched glorious sunsets, witnessed torrential thunderstorms on the west side of the lake, saw two bear cubs and canoed into Lobster Lake one day.  We went to bed early and listened to the loons cry into the night as we snuggled under the old quilts that someone, thoughtfully, had left at camp. 

There is no electrical power at camp-only gas lights, stove and refrigerator, although a solar panel allows for power for the hot water heater. We could have taken hot showers if we wanted, but with the water so warm in the lake, it just didn’t seem right.  There is just nothing like a morning dip in the lake with Ivory soap, sans bathing suit.  I told you it was remote!

Whenever I let my mind drift to a carefree mindset, it automatically goes “to camp”.  We don’t own it or have a pay a cent for its use, although we usually send a check to cover our use of the gas.  We make sure the lawn gets mowed while we’re there, and that the camp is left spotless when we leave.

How blessed are we that we can go here virtually anytime we wish?

A Maine Secret

Brann’s Mills Pond

Close to Home

 

There’s a pond that is close to my home that attracts fishermen and sightseers year round.  In the winter, the fisherman who drill holes to lure pickerel abound in large numbers and in spring, lures and bobbers fly through the air to try to catch hornpout, perch and bass from the shores.  As summer comes, the bass are away from shore and kayaks and canoes dot the blue-grey waters.

 

Brann’s Mills Pond in located in beautiful Piscataquis County and easily accessed from Route 7 between Dexter and Dover-Foxcroft. There is a public boat ramp as well as an opportunity to fish from onshore at the boat landing. It is a common sight to drive along the road to the boat landing and see many families fishing at the “culvert” next to the boat landing. It is certainly not uncommon to see all members of the fishing party swatting the voracious Maine black flies and mosquitoes that lay in wait there for some fresh meat.

 

A great deal of the shoreline has no shoreline roads and there are not a lot of camps or homes on the pond, which makes it particularly appealing.  The lower end of the pond is in the village of Brann’s Mills, which is not a town, per se, just a term for the area that locals know. There used to be a saw mill and a shingle mill located in the village and remnants of the dam which gave them power are still visible.  The village is quaint and laid-back, with just three or four beautiful old homes there. Some patriot puts an American Flag on a log that lies across the water every year.

 

The road was built upon a natural geological esker which is a natural mound left by the retreating glaciers from long ago. The upper end of Brann’s Mills Pond is more of a marshland, with channels that make it easily navigated in a canoe or kayak.

 

            There are numerous islands in the pond and they are all pristine and uninhabited by man.  The water is deep, clear and boulder-strewn.

 

            Brann’s Mills is a lovely springtime retreat, if only for an evening ride.  It is not uncommon to see turkey and deer in the twilight, and not impossible to see partridge on the sides of the road gathering gravel for their crops. In the summer, turtles often gather on the sides of the road; in fall, glorious leaves show their splendor.  In the winter, the solitude and desolation have a beauty that is hard to explain; it’s lovely to see but I wouldn’t want to have to live there through Maine’s long, hard winters.

 

            There are no restaurants, no lodging, no picnic or rest room facilities.  Brann’s Mills Pond is just a lovely detour and a nice breath of needed fresh air.

More Nana and Hannah’s Travel Adventures

Laura, Hannah and I drove to the Old Port section of Portland; I’d forgotten how fabulous it is to be there and smell the salt water mingled with all the delicious scents from the cafes and restaurants! We walked the cobblestone streets and poked in several stores. I bought myself a casual dress and a lovely white ruffled skirt and bought Hannah several sets of Playmobil toys.  We had a wonderful lunch at an Irish Pub called Ri-Ra; we sat upstairs at a window seat that overlooks Casco Bay and watched water taxis and ferries coming and going.

After lunch we walked out on the wharf and checked out some schooners and the view of the city before heading back to Laura’s to drop her off and grab our gear for the next leg of our journey.

The drive from Westbrook to Bridgton is lovely, especially with all the apple trees and lilac bushes in full bloom. Hannah was quite taken with Naples and thought it pretty cool that there were different lakes on each side of the street; Sebago on the left and Long on the right.

We arrived at my brother’s house and Hannah went off to play with her new toys while my brother, sister-in-law and I caught up.  I hadn’t spent much time with them of late and they had recently been on two trips-Mexico and Las Vegas. My niece, Meghan, came in awhile later; I was quite surprised to see her as she lives in Farmington (an hour or more away) and attends college there.  She comes home on the weekends to work.  It was wonderful to see her and since she is studying to be a teacher, Meghan and Hannah had a great time visiting.

After dinner we all played the DVD version of “Singing Bee”.  I had never heard of the show, but I’m always willing to get involved with a game, expecially one that involves music. Well, I sucked. We really didn’t keep score; our idea was to just have fun, which we did.

The following morning, Hannah and I met my brother at the Police Station (he’s a cop), where he proceeded to give us a tour.  He did a great job explaining everything to Hannah in terms she could understand, but he didn’t talk down to her, which was wonderful. She wanted nothing to do with the jail cells! Bernie fingerprinted her for an identification card before showing her his police car. She sat inside and turned on all the lights and the siren, saw his shotgun, radar, camera and all the good stuff cops have.  She was quite thrilled with the whole thing.

The drive home seemed longer than the usual two hours, as it often seems to do.  We had a fantastic time, but I was really glad to get home and enjoy some quiet time with Hannah and to see my beloved Jim.

Until next time…

The travals of Hannah and Nana

My granddaughter and I are on a short trip to visit family; I’m “working” and she’s on a great adventure. Oh, to see the world through the eyes of a child again. The two hour car ride was as exciting for her as a trip down river rapids.  She is an aspiring writer and worked on the first chapter of her book in the car; I jotted a few notes and kept track of mileage and toll receipts.

Once we arrived at my daughter’s home, I just had to get out the camera and take some shots of the the blooming lilacs and apple blossoms in her yard, whose scent was heavy in the air. The neighbor drove in her yard, which was extremely impressive, and invited me to take some shots of her yard. She had stunning displays and rare flowers and it was an honor to take it all in. Her husband came out and showed me around. Unfortunately I forgot to bring the gadget that I need to transfer pictures to my computer, so I’ll have to post them later.

We went to dinner at a great pub, the Frog & Turtle on Bridge Street in Westbrook, Maine, and it was a real treat. The food was a treat, we were treated well by the staff, and my son-in-law insisted on paying.  A triple treat!  Seriously, the food was fantastic; the meatloaf with gravy (reduction of mushrooms, sherry and red wine) was a great choice for me. My son-in-law had the Filet, which was perfectly prepared and served. Hannah had Pork Chops with garlic-smashed potatoes, of which she is a connoisseur. Two huge pork chops in a delectible sauce came with the potatoes; she gave both a huge thumbs-up.

To complete our evening, we went to see the new Indiana Jones flick. I haven’t been to a movie theater since “The Passion of Jesus Christ.”  Theater seats have changed a lot; I don’t have that degree on comfort in my home!  I consider myself a sharp kind of girl, but I had a little trouble following the movie in spots; that also may have been my fault, since I had to take a bathroom break and get some popcorn.  The whole experience was really fun for all of us.

Today we are off to Portland to check out the Old Port and maybe scoot down to Old Orchard Beach before heading to my brother’s house in Bridgton for an overnight stay.

Another beautiful Spring day in Maine!