walkitout (walkitout) wrote,
walkitout
walkitout

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Acadia

Wednesday and Thursday I went to Acadia National Park. I had slightly misunderstood the procedure by which they give out permits for Isle au Haut camping, and thought I could get to the very head of the line by showing up the morning of April 1 in person. Foolish me (and a good day for it). I think I just spent $50 for two raffle tickets for camping. Weird.

While I was there, on Wednesday, I walked along the carriage road paralleling the edge of Eagle Lake, then up to Bubble Pond. Very pretty. Both still frozen. I beat it back the way I came, rather than circle the lake, because it was getting late. I had some steamer clams, a salad and a pint of Bass at a bar on Main street (you wouldn't believe the number of establishments in Bar Harbor on Main Street that just can't leave the punning opportunity alone), then found a $40 franchise motel experience where I got to watch several hours of Law and Order. I miss Law and Order. Not enough to order it up via Netflix (yet), but definitely enough to stay awake a couple hours later than I should have.

On Thursday, after learning that I'd have to wait a couple weeks to find out if I got lucky in the raffle or not, I abandoned my plan to investigate beaver activity (that would have been sensible and involved more walking on carriage roads, and Roland had pointed out that I could actually try the hiking trails), in favor of the apparently even lazier idea to drive around the island including the one section of Park Loop Road open, along Sand Beach. Well, once stopped in the parking lot, of course I had to check out the trailheads, and Beehive drew me like a bee to, er, whatever. What a harrowing experience that was. Great views tho.

Upon returning via the Bowl (I may be foolish, but there was no way I was going back down those ladders; up was bad enough), I continued my drive, only to get sucked in by a sign saying Jordan Pond this way, and no gate blocking the entrance. One turkey sandwich later, I convinced myself I wasn't too tired to walk a little ways along the lake. A few yards of postholing up to my knees in snow, and I hauled the map out (I'd left the guide in the car), and decided trails couldn't be any worse, and decided I could go up The Triad. After all, it's only a few hundred feet up, and I could always come back via carriage roads. More or less.

I'm sorry to say I contributed to trail impact in one spot (but come on, it was a fricking lake, a good 8 inches deep water on top of who knows how much mud, and icing the top a thin layer of, duh, ice, not strong enough to hold my weight). I still feel guilty. No ladders, but some stretches of steep rock. Very pretty nestled gardens of lichen. I had no idea that's what the rock we clamber around on would look like if left alone for a few years/decades/centuries.

Once I got back to my car, and a peanut butter sandwich, I decided the course of wisdom was to go home. Which I did, and which was lovely, right up until Portland, when I hit the rain which apparently never had stopped. 4 inches or so in less than 24 hours. Yuck. And it was so nice up in Maine. On the one hand, I wish I'd stayed. But on the other, I really missed Roland. I can't wait until mud season in the Whites is over. Lots of day hike options there.

And I got email from a complete stranger telling me Lull Farm stand had opened. That was nice. Thank you!
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