After a recent trip to Lake Umbagog State park and National Wildlife Refuge, I am already planning my return. This trip was a great scouting opportunity and I’ll be able to leverage the knowledge I gained when I go back next year a little earlier in the season. Since it was the third weekend in October, the colors were a bit past peak and a lot of the birds were gone for the season, but there were still some nice viewings including six bald eagles. Of the six, two were juveniles without the distinctive white head and tail feathers. One of the juveniles had recently caught something and we got to watch him/her feast on it’s bloody catch.
In addition to the birds of prey, Umbagog has a variety of other birds and waterfowl. We happily watched geese, warblers, and ducks.
Shhhhh… don’t tell anyone, but the way to see Umbagog is by kayak. Just kidding, everybody knows! We took kayaks to our island campsite and were able to quietly drift on the glassy waters for great access and viewing.
A combination of mostly clear skies and calm winds provided for a lovely sunset and sunrise and also for some beautiful reflections on the water during the day. At night, the clear skies allowed for some star-trail photography.
I set off in search of adventure along Downeast Maine’s Bold Coast. The plan was for camping, kayaking, and some backpacking interspersed with photography opportunities and time with my dog.
After setting up camp at Cobscook Bay State Park we (the dog and I) headed to Quoddy Point State Park– the easternmost point in the United States.
Although most people visit Quoddy Point for the lighthouse views, I found the peat bog walk to be quite fascinating because of all the interesting vegetation. In addition to tasty blueberries, it was full of pitcher plants catching flies and ants to devour. The pathway to and from the peat bog was also home to many forest dwelling fairies apparently since there were many earthen homes along the way.
Pitcher plant
Strange flora
Fairy dwelling
From Quoddy Point we swung over to the town of Lubec where there is a bridge that connects Maine to nearby Campobello Island in New Brunswick, Canada. The town is beautiful… even if the restaurants do lock their doors up before 8:30PM! I’d like to revisit Quoddy Point and Lubec and then hit the surrounding areas on a future trip.
Between Lubec and Quoddy Point
Studebaker I
Studebaker II
Studebaker III
Studebaker IV
Welcome to Lubec I
Welcome to Lubec II
5.3 sec exposure
I stayed in Lubec through sunset then headed back to the campsite. Alamo slept next to me like a log, but I tossed and turned– it may have been the moon, but I think I felt a lot more like a kid the night before Christmas– I was pretty excited about embarking upon a 3 day 2 night ocean kayaking journey the next day!
So much gear!
Only time I saw kayakers in 3 days
Moose Peak Light
Moose Peak Light
Self Portrait I
Self Portrait II
Butterflies on Mistake Island
Campsite on Little Water Island
Lovely sunset
Little Water sunset
First day’s route
Monday morning I donned a ridiculous amount of gear, checked the security of everything on my kayak and then departed from Jonesport Shipyard and headed through Pig Gut Channel on my way to Mistake Island. Moose Peak Lighthouse sits at the tip off Mistake Island and marks the end of the world– or at least it felt like that. Kayaking to that point and having no more islands between me and the vast expanse of Atlantic Ocean felt a lot like standing on the edge of a cliff and looking down. Don’t screw it up! After exploring the island and eating my fair share of wild blueberries and raspberries, I headed to nearby uninhabited Little Water Island where I set up camp for the night.
View of cabin on Duck Ledges
Foggy morning coffee on Little Water
Drying my gear
The privy and my kayak
Seaweed and snails
Complex matrix
Campsite at sunset
Last light
First light
I woke Tuesday morning to thick fog. It wasn’t unexpected, but it was nonetheless disappointing. I brewed coffee and ate breakfast from within my tent frequently checking to see if the wind had shifted to the north as forecast which would drive the fog out to sea. At around 11 the fog lifted and I could see approximately 5 miles to the northwest. I quickly threw all my things together and jumped into my kayak to paddle back through Pig Gut Channel on my way to Duck Ledges. I kept a close eye on the weather and when the ceilings dropped to about 100’ and the visibility dropped to less than a mile I got my fog horn and signaling light at the ready– just in case. Thankfully, some rain pushed through and with it a breeze that moved the nasty weather out. The trip took me through Moosebec Reach and I was thankful that I was going with the current as it helped speed my progress to the west (which was good because it was very busy with lobster boat traffic). Just prior to arriving at Duck Ledges I heard a splash and noticed at least 15 seal heads sticking up from the water surrounding my boat. They kept their distance but it was a fun diversion. Less fun was hauling my boat out at near low tide and then drying out all my gear once I arrived at Duck Ledges. I took advantage of the breeze and the late day sun to dry some things out and even squeeze a bit of energy out of my solar panel. Thankfully the sky cleared and treated me to a beautiful sunset and a couldless sunrise to begin my paddle back.
Typical lobster boat
Some of my gear
Tall pilings
Steel rope I
Steel rope II
Enroute to Little Water
Terry on the tractor
Wednesday was a relatively easy paddle back to Jonesport. The current was light and in my favor so it was nice to enjoy the sights along the way instead of worrying about currents and lobster boats. Once ashore and packed up, I headed off to Cutler where Terry picked me up in a boat and took me to Little River Island for the next night of my journey. Felt nice to sit back and let someone else do the work for a bit.
Abandoned lobster trap
Red tailed squirrel
Buoy Boundary
Terry’s drone
Monarch
Daisy
Room…
… with a view
After getting settled into my room in the Lighthouse Keeper’s building and taking in the view from my room, I explored the island and took in the sights. The fog was definitely beginning to roll in and we were pretty much guaranteed that we wouldn’t get a colorful sunset. During a brief clearing I got to fly Terry’s drone. I’m embarrassed to say that it did not come naturally to me– it flew nothing like a helicopter!
Foggy lighthouse
Amazing bulbs
Spiral stairs
Vega lenses
Light house service emblem
8 sec exposure at 0433
Lobster boat pre-dawn
Lighhouse pre-dawn
Despite the fog, it was still really cool to get to go up inside the lighthouse and see how everything worked. It was a surprise to find out that the lights are tiny (about the size of your thumb) and that it is the Vega lens (sorry, Fresnel lenses are no longer used!) does all the work to produce such a powerful beam! There are 6 lights on a rotating device such that if one burns out it will automatically switch to the next bulb, but only one is shining at a time. Also of note– the light and the fog horn at Little River are solar powered and the fog horn only operates on demand. The following morning was clear and I enjoyed taking some pictures of the pre-dawn sky and a lobster boat on his way out to work.
Black Point Cove
View from campsite
Panorama
Campsite
Bug net joys
Not bothered by bugs
Black Point Cove sunset
Black Point cove sunset
Black Point Cove fog
After departing Little River Island, I picked up Alamo and headed back to Cutler to share an adventure with him in the Cutler Public Lands. The idea was to use this especially dark segment of the coast as a location to do some night photography– both of the sky and possibly of the water if there happened to be any bioluminescent plankton. I would only have a short window between astronomical twilight and when the moon would begin to light up the eastern sky, but it was worth a shot. He’s not much of a hiker, so we took it easy and only did about 3.5 miles to our campsite. The mosquitos were brutal but they didn’t seem to bother the boy too much! I got some sunset pics, but the calm winds allowed the fog to roll in. I got one 20 sec time exposure of the fog but then called it quits. It was for the best– the fog only thickened overnight and we hiked out in 100% humidity and 100’ visibility.
Oh… I may have forgotten to mention that my dog takes up most of the room in a 3-person tent and pushed me off the Thermarest mattress. Thanks, buddy. Thanks a lot!
Monarch on echinacae
Bee on echinacae
Cutler, ME
Lilly in Machias
After an uneventful hike back to the car, we wrapped up our trip in Machias, ME for one night before driving back home. The weather was rainy and foggy at the end of the trip but I definitely saw some locations I will have to visit next trip!
“Ma’am, we don’t sell travel medical insurance for travel within the
United States.”
Yes, I know. I’m going overseas.
“Ummmmm??”
Just type it in your system. It should come up.
“Ahhh, I see. South Georgia. Oh, an island. Well, that sounds
nice.”
No, ma’am. I’m going to the Republic of Georgia. Keep looking please.
It don’t know how often someone mistakes South Georgia Island for the Republic of
Georgia, but most often times when I say that I climbed a glaciated
mountain in Georgia people look at me with a quizzical expression on their
face. Americans, apparently, don’t know Georgia from… well, Georgia!
My first trip to Georgia was in 2008 and my conversation with the
medical insurance saleswoman continued to perplex her.
“Oh… well, it says that Georgia is a designated war zone.”
Yes ma’am, I know.
“Well, you won’t be covered for acts of war.”
Another “Yes ma’am I know” covered the skepticism I had about
being injured by any act of war. Of course, it was possible, but I knew that I
was much more likely to be injured in a car accident since it was reputed that
Georgia’s roads were in notoriously poor condition, seat belts rarely worked,
and tires were likely to be bald.
The Russians had bombed and invaded Georgia on the opening day of the 2008
Beijing Olympics (I suspect because they knew it would get little attention in
the international press while the world’s eyes were glued to coverage of the
opening ceremonies). Weeks later, the world knew Michael Phelps’s name, but few
had heard about Georgia despite the invasion.
The word “invasion” obviously portrays the Russians as the
aggressor in this case. They, of course, would argue that South Ossetia,
Abkhazia, and a few other enclaves clearly belong to them. Despite the
invasion, the bombings, and the occupation, however, I was determined to go.
The country is about the size of the state of South Carolina. I would just
avoid a couple areas, but otherwise travel throughout the country. No big deal!
But Georgia sucks you in. You see a little and then you want to see more.
Unlike Rome or Paris where your “must see” tourist attractions are
well known even to small children (Colosseum, Eiffel Tower, etc…), Georgia’s
tourist attractions, though utterly amazing, are unheard of by most foreigners:
Uplistsikhe,
Vardzia, David Gareja, and the sulfur springs of Borjomi are but just a few. Even
as I advocate for more people to travel to Georgia to see all of its historical,
cultural, and natural wonders, I must say that Georgia’s greatest wonder is its
people. With their own distinct language and script (Georgian is a Kartvelian
language, and distinct from the Slavic languages) the people are proud of their
Georgian heritage and happy to share it with foreigners (foreigners, incidentally
are treated much more like houseguests than strangers). In fact, travel and
tourism sites for Georgia frequently speak of how Georgians are known for their
hospitality. In my two visits to Georgia, I would submit that a Georgian you
may only have met a few hours ago is probably much more likely to cook you a
delicious home cooked meal than your own grandmother! Whether it was sharing their
home, food, drink, stories, or a good laugh, the gregarious and giving nature
of the Georgian people was more of a treasure than anything I saw in the
Louvre.
