Alexandersmap

    Tag: Acadia National Park

    • Isle au Haut: A Billion Stars and Pristine Trails

      “This whole earth which we inhabit is but a point in space. How far apart, think you, dwell the two most distant inhabitants of yonder star, the breadth of whose disk cannot be appreciated by our instruments? Why should I feel lonely? Is not our planet in the Milky Way?” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden

      Anchored in a quiet cove, boat rolling steadily (and indicating why we were alone in this place), we stepped out into a brilliant sky to bear witness to a billion stars. The Milky Way so bright it reflected off the water. This was what we’d hoped for, yet almost missed fleeing mosquitoes earlier in the evening. We were not so alone after all.

      The thing about sailing that is so attractive is your ability to place yourself in places like this, nudged up against a corner of Acadia National Park that few ever venture to. There are no buses or fifth wheel camp trailers on Isle au Haut. Those are fine people too, just more than I seek out when getting away from it all. Here you find the quiet bliss inferred in the very concept of a nature preserve.

      Spending a bit of time on the main stretch (where the road is actually paved), we found the locals friendly and the ice cream sandwiches tasty, but I couldn’t buy a stamp for my postcard after 11 AM. Isle au Haut has what must be one of the nation’s smallest Post Offices. If you want counter service get there early. So it goes. The stamp will have to wait.

      The hiking trails are mostly well-defined here, and in some boggy corners nature’s winning the battle to reclaim them. They say build it and they will come, and surely we do, but not so many that you ever feel you can’t get some solitude. We saw precious few fellow hikers, despite the delightful trail network. This naturally continued out at the anchorage. Precious few fellow sailboats. There is plenty of elbow room on Isle au Haut. May it always be this way.

      Isle au Haut Lighthouse (1907)

    • Mount Desert Island

      “Le sommet de la plus part d’icelles est desgarny d’arbres parceque ce ne sont que roches. Je l’ay nommee l’isle des Monts-deserts.” – Samuel de Champlain
      (Translated into English: “The top of most of them is bare with trees because they are only rocks. I named it the island of Monts-deserts.”)

      French Explorer Samuel de Champlain sailed up the Gulf of Maine in 1604 and observed the granite mountain summits on the island before him. He named it “Ile de Monts Deserts,” or “island of the bare mountains”. Through all the turf wars between the French and the English the place names haven’t always been consistent, but this one has. The map below was from the British atlas The Atlantic Neptune in 1800 that shows the name clearly, along with other place names commonly accepted. And thus the island became known by a name we’ve called it forever since; Mount Desert Island. The pronunciation of “desert” itself leans towards the French… as it should.

      While exploring this island topped with pink granite peaks, Champlain hit a ledge off of Otter Cliff and had to take the time necessary to repair the hull. With the aid of a couple of Abenaki guides he explored some of the island, most likely around the Otter Creek area, but I wonder how far he explored while he was there. He and his guides would surely recognize large parts of the island today, but would be stunned by the crowds. A large part of the island and surrounding islands and land became part of Acadia National Park (from 1919 to 1929 it was known as Lafayette National Park, but changed to reflect the original French colony) and forever preserved for generations to see what Champlain saw in 1604. It would be the only time he set foot on Mount Desert Island, but his mark on history remains to this day.

    • Hiking The Beehive

      As hikes go, The Beehive is everything you’d want and wouldn’t want rolled into a quick hike. Looking for diverse terrain, stunning views and challenging but non-technical climbing? Beehive. Long lines cued up waiting for people to overcome personal fears of heights? Also Beehive. You either embrace them both and treat it like a Disney ride or you go elsewhere. But it’s a hike worth doing either way.

      Expecting large crowds is part of every Acadia National Park experience. As with Cadillac Mountain, Thunder Hole, Bass Harbor Head Light and Jordan Pond you know what to expect. And sure enough, there they are. But the place is worth the trade-off in breathing space, and there’s always a little corner of the park you can call your own, if only for a few minutes. On Beehive we paused on the pink granite summit for a snack and water in relative solitude. Like a picnic in Central Park on a warm Saturday solitude.

      As for logistics, one thing I never thought I’d say on a hike: bring hand sanitizer to use after summiting Beehive. Those iron rails get used all day and we are in a pandemic. Parking is tight at the trailhead, so get there early. And since you’re sharing the same parking lot with Sand Beach you might as well get out on the beach while you’re there. Beehive, even with the waiting in line, is a short hike. If you want to extend your hiking experience after summiting take the Gorham Mountain Trail, or do as we did and hike the Good Head Trail. Both are less crowded than Beehive, but you’ll still have company. Sand Beach is worth the stop, whether you swim or not is up to you but that ultra-soft sand is worth experiencing.

      Beehive stays with you well after you finish. The iron rungs, the scrambles up granite, the stunning views of foliage, Sand Beach and salt water all through a kaleidoscope of swirling fog. And yes, the shared experience of hiking with hundreds of people, like the millions before you, all winding your way on this Pilgrimage with the ancient mountain.

      Wait your turn
      Just do it
      Dad and daughter mid-climb

    • Community Sunrise

      Most of my sunrises are solo affairs. Occasionally I’ll recruit others to join in, but even then it’s generally a small crowd. So sitting atop Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park with hundreds of people is highly unusual for me. But that’s where I found myself.

      The alarm went off at 3 AM, we wrapped ourselves up for the expected wind chill and drove to the summit. That’s right: we drove. Getting up early was earning it on this day. And initially we didn’t have a lot of company save the stars that opened up above us. But gradually the beams of flashlight increased, like the scene in E.T. without the John Williams soundtrack. Instead the chatter of groups and the barks of a few dogs increased from initially jolting to eventually accumulated background noise. And I settled in for the crush of people to follow. And they came.

      The skies brightened until only Venus held out, and the bay below turned from a black canvas to a swirling medley of fog. This sunrise would begin in the swirl, and eventually rise above. In the meantime they still came, hundreds more, but our small corner of pink granite next to a boulder remained relatively sequestered.

      A collective gasp rose through the crowd as the sun broke the surface, seeming to hang there for effect before beginning the slow rise. That swirling mist was highlight in the glow, and the show just kept getting better and better. And when it was over hundreds got in their cars and the slow crawl of cars glowing in brake lights inched down towards more elbow room.

      If you get up for a sunrise on Cadillac Mountain remember to bundle up, bring something to sit on (sleeping pad, pillow, folded blanket) and bring a red light headlamp as a courtesy to those watching the stars. When you walk up from the parking lot you have plenty of options for sitting down. I recommend descending further down for the better views it affords and for a bit more room to breath. But its crowded for a reason: the view is spectacular.