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Showing posts with label hike. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hike. Show all posts

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Downeast and a mountain full of memories


"All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.”

– Martin Buber, Austrian philosopher





Cadillac looms in the distance as we head up to the top. Anthony enjoys the view from the top.









ELLSWORTH/BAR HARBOR/MOUNT DESERT ISLAND, Maine — We roamed a mountain top where the heavens are at your fingertips and hiked a demanding trail at a national park that resurrected a forgotten boyhood memory.

We met a Highlander who played the bagpipes free of charge on a grassy bluff overlooking a short stretch of beach and marveled at Mother Nature's handy work — the stunning shoreline of Bar Harbor.

During our three-day adventure, I was introduced to helpful park rangers and wonderful people from across the globe. We travelled 350 miles and walked miles of beaches and quiet, secluded woods where you could hear leaves ruffle and creaking branches of decades-old trees without interruptions from the noise of a big city.

Our vacation destination was only 150 miles from our home. We stayed at a comfortable inn, but I was confounded when I saw prophylactics and decks of cards in a snack machine. I guess if you are in the mood for love and an all-night poker game, why run out to a store.  Amenities were few and far between for guests, but the employees were pleasant. The ice machine spit out cubes at a rate of two per minute. It could take a lifetime before you filled a bowl of ice. I wondered if the town was rationing water due to the heat wave. And there is a newly constructed road that forces tourists to take a one-mile roundabout to get back to an inn. I don't know why the city of Ellsworth agreed to invest in this engineering debacle.

We had no intension of hanging around our temporary residence. It was a place to sleep — nothing more. Bar Harbor, Mount Desert Island and Acadia National Park were our true destinations.

Before we left the inn, there was the unpacking of the car, which is as enjoyable as packing the car. We took 45 minutes to decompress and agreed to visit Bar Harbor's numerous shops and walk the gravel paths around the shoreline.

Harbor lights

We visited a used book store because we dislike Kindles. We will only read print. The prices were reasonable and I enjoyed listening to Terri and the owner discuss Maine's famous authors. You can't take a step without bumping into an antique or used-book store.

The next stop was a clothing store to buy shirts sporting Bar Harbor or Acadia. We weren't leaving empty handed without some sort of souvenir. There are more than a handful of restaurants, but we are always on a budget and settled for sandwiches at a local deli. Terri said it was the best veggie wrap she has ever eaten, but I was more impressed with their home-made muffins.

An hour of shopping was all we could handle, so we walked down a narrow street where magnificent homes with magnificent gardens lined a road that led to the shoreline. We followed gravel paths and marveled at numerous islands in the distance and coastal rock formations.

We studied a huge ferry and a pair of Dahlgren-Rodman cannons, apparently leftovers from the Civil War. The twin iron behemoths face the shoreline — a warning to enemy ships.

Walking through town we noticed Cadillac Mountain standing high above the landscape. For residents, I am sure the mountain is like an old friend. We would tackle the summit the next day.

The hot evening sun was getting to us so we did the double quick (Civil War talk) to get to our air-conditioned car. My son, who can read maps better than Christopher Columbus, guided us back to Route 3A. We were racing down the road when we saw a man in a kilt carrying bagpipes on a bluff above a tiny beach. We debated for the next few minutes whether to turn the car around and introduce ourselves to this sharply dressed Highlander.

Anthony urged us to head back to the bluff. A few moments later, we were walking through tall grass where David Weeda was about to perform. 

I waved and he introduced himself. I asked him why he enjoys playing the pipes at this spot. He said it is the perfect scene to play his instrument. I think he enjoyed serenading the calming sea. He gave us a brief history of it and he agreed to play the pipes for us. "Scotland the Brave" sounded incredible against the backdrop of the shoreline.

I was impressed with his talent, showmanship and his knowledge of the ancient instrument. Weeda is also the owner of the Williams Pond Lodge(williamspondlodge.com), which is located on 20 beautiful acres in Bucksport.

His playing drew a handful of onlookers and traffic slowed when drivers caught a glimpse of the Highlander on Route 3A. We reluctantly bid Weeda farewell as a curious crowd gathered on the beach. It was a privilege for this family of three to meet a musician whose iron lungs and compassion make his wind instrument come to life.

On top of the world

Acadia National Park would be the highlight of my stay. I wanted to hike at least one trail and tour the top of Cadillac Mountain. Anthony acted as our tour guide. He is like having GPS in the back seat.

There was a poignant reason why I wanted to visit the summit again. I was a 12-year-old when my dad, who is facing a losing battle with Alzheimer's, took the family to Acadia on a short summer vacation. My sisters don't remember a thick fog that spoiled our view at the top. This visit would become a quiet tribute to my father, who no longer knows me, as well as a second chance to appreciate the National Park systems with my family.

A brief history

Sprawling Acadia (49,600 acres) occupies most of the land on Mount Desert Island, and Cadillac Mountain towers above the tress

For active people who like to travel by bike, there are 45 miles of trails. Visitors who travel on foot can hike up to 110 miles of trails. There are also miles of paved roads and visitors can kayak many pristine lakes.

The wealthy made the area a tourist destination during the turn of the 20th Century. The Rockefellers, Astors and Vanderbilts all built summer getaways, but grew concerned that the area was being overdeveloped. The rich and famous were instrumental in making Acadia a national park, thanks to President Wilson in 1916.

Cadillac Mountain was certainly the highlight our visit, but there was also Thunder Hole to see and an opportunity to hike a trail at a national park. Cadillac's highest point is 1,528 feet and offers majestic views of Mount Desert and its smaller islands that dot the landscape. Peeking over the edge at the summit can be dizzying for visitors like my wife who have a healthy fear of heights.

The greatest natural show on earth


We stopped at a visitors' information center to pay for our $20 ticket to witness Acadia's numerous wonders. The ticket is good for seven days, and I feel the price is a real bargain. The park's caretakers rangers showed us where to go and what to do on a map.

We entered the park and Anthony guided us along a path that leads to a man-made bluff that located in the shadow of Cadillac. We took dozens of photos and noticed a posh home that commands an incredible view of the ocean.

It was time to visit Sand Beach where the water temperature was a leg-numbing 56 degrees. We found a spot in the stifling heat. Towering walls of ancient stone surrounded the pristine beach. Despite frigid water, Anthony took a dip, which was an eye-opening experience for my intrepid son.

I didn't want to broil in the hot sun so I looked for a shady trail to hike. The path ran parallel to the road. Climbing up the path was like trudging along on a Stairmaster, and the heat made it that much more difficult as I marched to the top. I rapidly made my way along a path that winds around behind high cliffs overlooking the beach, giving hikers awesome views of the ocean. For three miles, I snapped a handful of photos and took moments out my hike to step gingerly down paths to clearings where rocky ledges provided incredible views of the beach from about 300 feet above the water.

The shade disappeared and I decided to reappear on the beach and soak my sweaty head in frigid ocean water. My family had enough of the hot sun and we took refuge in an air-conditioned car and headed toward Cadillac. The six-mile drive to the top of Cadillac put my driving skills to the test, but if you fail to negotiate the numerous hairpin turns on the way up or down, you will end up like "Tounces the Driving Cat" and will plummet off the side of the mountain. 
I thought my wife was about to bail out at 1,000 feet and without parachute.

We found a parking spot and left the comfort our air-conditioned car and began walking around the top in searing heat. 

I suddenly felt like I was on top of the world when I looked down for the first time. My wife decided to remain in the middle of the summit while Anthony and I wandered from one location to another to get a panoramic view. Cadillac offered a variety of views and a visitor can see for miles. What I found interesting was the many small islands that dot the shoreline. I also noticed my hearing was muffled because our altitude. By the time we returned to the base of the mountain, our ears popped a couple times after we swallowed.

Terri was having an anxiety attack on the way down, but I was thinking about my dad and a dwindling memory of our family trip nearly four decades ago. I was also grateful I got a chance to revisit the mountain with my family.

My dad no longer remembers me, but a mountain in Maine will never let me forget him or our trip to the top on a hot summer day.
















Sunday, June 17, 2012

Father tries to know best








No man can possibly
know what life means, what the
world means, until he has a child and loves it. And
then the whole universe changes
and nothing will ever again seem
exactly as it seemed before.

- Lafcadio Hearn




POLAND, Maine - No tie, shirt or money. I was not presented with a power tool, a lifetime subscription to "Sports Illustrated" or served breakfast in bed.
I didn't even get to sleep late. I left a wake-up call for 8:30 a.m.
I was given a thoughtful card and a shout-out from my wife, wishing me happy Father's Day as I stumbled toward the coffee pot Sunday morning.
All I requested was a homemade strawberry pie (Terri can put Martha Stewart to shame in the kitchen), a long hike in the woods with my son, and a swim at one of the local lakes of my choosing.
To top off the evening, we treated ourselves to an ice cream. After all, as a loving, hard-working father and husband, I think I have earned it.
I also did the cooking because I am the best chef in the house. And Terri certainly doesn't mind me commandeering our kitchen to cook dinner.
Being a father is the toughest and the most satisfying profession in the world. Fathers, like moms, only get one take to get it right when raising children. There are no do-overs, and what parents say and do will affect their children the rest of their lives.
That's a colossal obligation, and unfortunately, there are parents who do not live up to those great expectations, and all of society, especially the child, pays that awful price.
I love the responsibility of being the patriarch of my family. I feel like godfather Don Corleone without the violence. I welcomed the enormous responsibilities of raising a child, and I believe I have it done it well, and I think my son's kindness reflects our love for him.
I was present in the delivery room when Anthony made his entrance. I wore surgical clothes when he was delivered by C-section. No, I didn't faint because the doctors knew what they were doing, and a little blood doesn't bother me.
I cried as I cut the umbilical cord. My dad thought I was nuts when I decided to watch the whole procedure unfold. Well, I am nuts, but that's a subject for another blog. 
And I thought my dad really knew me.

Anthony was placed in my arms. I noticed he had a full head of hair. I told him to get a job. He just looked at me and smiled. I trembled as I held him, but I was not frightened at being the caretaker of a human life.
I knew nine months ago that I wanted the job.
Terri, who had to do all the hard work of carrying a child to term, was in pain. She was given pain killers. I wanted a valium to ease my nerves. Watching a delivery and the huge sacrifices women make to deliver a healthy child over nine months makes all moms heroic figures.
But I believe it still takes two to raise a child. Parents make a huge contribution to the world when we raise a responsible human being. 
It is our sworn duty, and that contract between child and parents should last a lifetime.
For the next two days, I resided at Maine Medical Center in Portland, learning how to care for my newborn son. My feet still hadn't touched the ground after his arrival. I was on a natural high, and I couldn't wait to hold him throughout the day.
My father asked: "Who is going to take care of your son during the day." I said, "I am, dad. Who else."
He was astonished, but I was not surprised by his look. Stay-at-home dads (I worked nights) in my father's generation were rare.
For the next six years, I was Anthony''s guide during the day shift. Terri took over when she got home in the afternoon. Day care was out of the question for our son.
Anthony and I went to libraries, visited other children, and toured museums. TV was limited and video games were a no-no. There are no video games in this house to this day. Cable television also got the heave-ho.

Some would call me cruel, but I really hate TV.
This Sunday, Anthony took a long hike with his old man at Range Pond. We talked about everything during our two-mile journey around the pristine lake. I am amazed that he still enjoys my company.
Hey, every day I wake up and see my family standing before me makes me realize why I really enjoy my job.
After all, every day is Father's Day. Just take a good look at your family.

Out and about

Take a walk on the wild side around New England's outdoors. Come walk with my son and I as we explore state parks, historic sites, and creepy cemeteries. This is the good stuff in life, and there is nothing worth watching on television, anyway. Join us as we take advantage of Maine's beaches and pristine forests. In between our sojourns through the Pine Tree State, look for political insight and a few well-written opinion pieces as well.