Baxter Park

Wild. Fresh Air. Blueberries. Black Flies. Cold Water. Warm Sun. Restorative.....

All this, and more, was Baxter Park.


Katahdin, as viewed from Chimney Pond


The ridge we came up.


Heading on towards Davis Pond


Davis Pond


Wassataquoik Stream


The Family


South Branch Tent Site


In the canoe, headed for some cliff diving.

Is synthetic imposition ethical?

I took this picture on a bike ride I took yesterday. This house and land is undeniably the most handsome on Orr's island. A beautifully manicured lawn runs to the doorstep of a beautiful house, which looks down on a beautiful blue pond.
Unfortunatly, the pond was made by placing a concrete dam at the outlet of what probably used to be a small creek. Beyond being highly unsightly, the dam probably deprived a downstream eco-system of vital water.

This brings up an interesting point of ethical concern. To what extent should man impose his ideas of beauty on nature?

To some extent, the modern age has ushered in a state of irreversible change, from trails to interstate highways, from beaver dams to the hoover dam.

What about mowing your lawn? Or even landscaping?

Clearly there must be some line of delineation. Where that line must lie is the choice of the individual.

What do you think?

Lands End

My bike took me out to the end of route 24 yesterday. The scenic ride wends it's way through the communities on Orr's and Bailey Islands before the pavement runs into sea and sky at "Lands End".

I left our house at 4:40 P.M., just as the trees and sky began to glow with the golden light cast off by the setting sun.

I passed quickly through the lingering shadows, feeling impolite to dance through their councils, but it was the road's fault, it hurried me along, daring me to find it's last corner....

The grasses nodded cordially at my passing, they said they had been waiting for me... but I didn't believe them, I haven't seen them move in years.

I paused at Lands End to take some pictures. An elderly lady in her car smiled at me, tentatively, wondering if I would smile back, and when I did, the moment was just as beautiful as the scenery surrounding me.

The Sawyer

I have had the privelege over the past few days to work with a man by the name of Dick Bernier. Somewhat stooped and powerfully built, Dick talks through his large white beard in an accent that drips the unique and grammatically carefree style of Maine.

"You wasn't here yest'day was you?" He bellowed at me as I approached this morning, his weathered face crinkling into a big smile.

"It rained some'n awfull up my place yest'day!" he shouted. I am able to understand Dick quite clearly through my ear protection. (He, who has never worn ear protection, has some difficulty hearing, which might explain his extraordinary volumes).

Dick appears to be well versed in the lingo of his trade. The first day I worked with him was highly confusing......

"Hand me that Can't Dog over there and we'll roll this crow pole right onto the mill!" I paused between a hook strapped to the side of the machine and a large pole with a hook on it. He sensed my deliberation and tried to clarify. "The Peavey" he shouted, "I need the Peavey". I got desperate and grabbed the pole with the hook on it and handed it to him. He appeared gratified by this, and proceeded to compliment me on knowing the terminology.

And so I learned, little by little.

Can't Dog= Peavey= Pole with big hook.

Crow Pole=Pole them crows sit on= Skinny pine tree.

Flaring= Flaring the Log= Cutting irregularities off the log to make it round with a chainsaw.

Dick is a master sawyer. He generates very little scrap wood, and cuts beautifull boards with his little "band saw mill".

Katahdin

On thursday Barry, Per Houmann, and I hiked up Katahdin. We were encased in fog the entire hike, but that only increased the mystique and isolation.

Thanks to the vision of Baxter, here encapsulated in his own famous words, we were able to enjoy one of maine's greatest treasures.

"Katahdin always should and must remain the wild stormswept, untouched-by-man region it now is; that is its great calm. Only small cabins for mountain climbers and those who love the wilderness should be allowed there, only trails for those who travel on foot or horseback, a place where nature rules and where the creatures of the forest hold undisputed dominion.

As modern civilization with its trailers and gasoline fumes, its unsightly billboards, its radio and jazz, encroaches on the Maine wilderness the time yet may come when only the Katahdin region remains undefiled by man. To acquire this Katahdin region for the people of Maine has been undertaken by me as my life’s work, and I hope as the years roll on that this state park will be enjoyed by an ever increasing number of Maine people and by those who come to us from beyond our borders.

Katahdin stands above the surrounding plain unique in grandeur and glory. The works of man are short lived. Monuments decay, buildings crumble and wealth vanishes, but Katahdin in its massive grandeur will forever remain the mountain of the people of Maine. Throughout the ages it will stand as an inspiration to the men and women of this state."

Sailing Trip

Wind, relaxation, friends, roses, blue sky, fresh air........

sailing.