A blog written by Alex Ziko, after I asked him to define adventure for me when I saw he was going to have adventures in Acadia, Maine.
-Craig
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Park Ranger: Welcome to Acadia, how can I help you?
Me: Hi, I need a campsite
Park Ranger: Sure, Our sites are $20 a night. Will you be needing a park pass for you visit?
Me: Yes, please
Park Ranger: There is a list of pass options at the bottom of your registration sheet
Me: Is one week really the shortest option? I’m only staying for three days
Park Ranger: Yes
Me: (pause) Uh, really? Ok, I guess I’ll take one of those then.
Park Ranger: That will be $20 please
I never had plans to share my ‘adventure’ in Acadia with the Internet until Craig asked me. Adventures with Intentions: a blog about sharing memories of your expeditions seems like something of a paradox to me. My most memorable adventures were unquestionably unintentional. However, here you are reading with transfixed eyes eagerly awaiting to hear about my ‘adventure’ and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you be disappointed. So before you read further - turn off the cell phone in your pocket, switch your Gmail chat icon to ‘busy’ and pour yourself another cup of coffee. This is a long tale and should be savored like a fine wine in front of a woodfire. Are you sitting comfortably? Then let us begin.
I woke up early Tuesday morning in the Blackwoods campground, after a very restful night. I made myself a cup of coffee and a quick breakfast of sausage and eggs. Zak Robinson was kind enough to lone me his Whisperlite for my trip. However he neglected to tell me it only had two settings, “off” and “inside the sun.” Once my miraculously unburnt breakfast was finished I cleaned up my site and set off to the Ocean Path. This is a trail that spans the shoreline from Sand Beach to Otter Point and is quite picturesque when the morning sun is shinning and warming the rocks still retaining their chill from the night before. I was enjoying both the warmth of the sun on my face and of the coffee making its way from my travel mug into my innards. Thinking to myself “I wonder if I still have my sunglasses in my car glove-box back at camp?” when I heard a scream from the rocks to my right. At first I thought it was the cry of a seagull until I realized that there was a women in hysterics down on the rocks. Her husband had turned his back to the ocean to take a picture of his wife when a wave had crashed over him pulling him out to sea. I dropped my coffee, kicked off my shoes and dove into the freezing water. Swimming out to the drowning man I grasped him by his shirt collar and pulled him to me. As wave after wave crashed over our heads, I wrapped my arm around his chest and with all my strength bicycle-kicked my way to shore in a form that would have made my lifeguard instructor Candice Raines proud. Ok, so that didn’t really happen. The walk was really pretty though, and unbeknownst to me it’s a rather popular path in the park. Lucky for me I happened on it by accident, I was just looking for a nice short morning walk to start my day.
When I got back to my campsite after my walk I ate a brief early lunch and consulted my map. The Cadillac Mt. South Ridge trail travels from the campground to the summit. The mountain is arguable the most popular spot in the park for many reasons. It holds a panoramic view of Bar Harbor, the surrounding islands and other mountain peaks. It is also the first place in the country to see sunlight, depending on the time of year. Wanting to see the woods and noticing that I could access other trails from this one. I decided to pack my daypack and see where the afternoon took me. I hiked almost to the summit before I detoured down the Bubble Pond trail in an effort to hike a few of the Carriage roads. At this point I was in the center of the island. Off the path from all the major tourist attractions of the park and in the perfect position to really take in the kind of esoteric tranquility that only the Maine woods and it’s foliage can offer. I was reminded of a small art project that my friend Lauren Borst told me about years ago. She wanted to collect as many leaves as she could and mount them in a line showing a gradual progression from one shade of color to the next. I heard the trotting of horse hooves behind me, and my mind was snapped back to the present. I looked over my shoulder as a young, beautiful women, on horseback came riding up next to me and to my disbelief, she was completely nude! Her long flowing blond hair catching rays of sunshine contrasting the bright leaves behind her. She spoke perfect English however there was an accent that I couldn’t quite place. German? Swiss? “Do you know ze vay back to zee stables” she asked me “I’m lost and I’m afraid my grandpapa vill be vorried sick” “I have a map right here” I said “but without it how will I get back to my campsite?” I asked “There is no need, silly” she giggled “There is plenty of space for you at my Grandpapa’s mansion, and I get so frightened at night who else is there to keep me company?” Guess what? Yeah, that didn’t happen either. I took one of the Carriage roads to the park loop path and then promptly got lost almost ending up in Steal Harbor before I caught my mistake. I turned around walking the road in the right direction back the way I came. As I walked the side of the surprisingly busy park loop road dodging speeding Oldsmobiles of retired couples and mammoth busses of Asian tourists I thought to myself “god, how embarrassing this is going to be if a Park Ranger pulls up and asks me if I need a ride.” If that happens don’t half ass your part, Ziko. Just pull out your map and do your best to fake a British accent.” No, a tour bus didn’t crush me and the local law didn’t stop me on the side of the road. I did make it back to the campground and my planned 6 or 7-mile hike easily turned into an 11 or 12-mile ramble. Lesson learned, either pick one or two day hikes and drive to the trailhead…. or don’t plan anything and bring a Mt. Bike.
The next day was overcast a chilly. Since I was in no mood to do anymore walking I decided to drive the park loop stopping at all the popular spots to park and have a look around. I’m glad I got in all my hiking the day before since I think the less than perfect weather thinned the crowds. Sand Beach was pristine and Thunder Hole was impressive. Driving the park loop was beautiful and even though I wasn’t having a “backcountry experience” it didn’t prevent me from having a connection to the natural world outside my car. I stopped into the Jordan Pond house to have a look around and learn more about the historical background of the park. In the gift shop I admired the scented candles and oversized sweat shirts displaying large block lettering, ACADIA and MAINE THE WAY LIFE SHOULD BE. I was deeply immersed in a book on the attractions of the park when out of the corner of my eye I saw a dark figure approach the register. “Empty the drawer, the cash or your life bitch.” “He’s got a gun!” one of the elderly sales clerks shouted. The man turned his pistol at the old women. Acting on instinct I turned and my arm shot out snatching a glass jar of Made in Maine Maple Syrup off the shelf behind me. Taking aim and throwing it like a baseball at a carnival game stand it shattered on impact meeting the thugs face. “Arghh!” he shouted stumbling backward. “My eyes! You got Made in Maine Maple Syrup in my eyes!” I leapt the distance from the bookshelf to the gunmen; wrestling the gun out of his hand, it fell to the floor and I kicked it across the gift shop. Grabbing the thug’s collar I pinned him against the wall. “Paper or plastic scumbag!” I shouted as my right fist made contact to his left cheek.POW! Knocked out cold he slid to the ground as a trail of Made in Maine Maple Syrup streaked the wall from where he once stood to his limp body on the floor. Nope, that didn’t really happen either. But I did get some information on some really interesting day hikes that I didn’t get a chance to do and will definitely come back for next fall.
That evening the forecast called for rain all night and into the morning. So I decided that instead of breaking camp in the cold morning rain I’d pack up and leave early. On my way out the park there was one more thing I wanted to do, drive to the top of Cadillac Mt. It was my way of saying goodbye to Acadia and letting it know that I had fun and will be back again soon.
I can’t define adventure any more than I can define exactly how important my friends are to me. Was my time spent in Acadia an ‘adventure’? You could look at it that way - although not as much as it could have been, clearly. I stepped outside my day to day, I went somewhere I had never really explored before and I had a great time. Anything more than that I’m afraid just didn’t happen.
However, if you don’t believe me I urge you to go up there and have an ‘adventure’ of your own. You can even use the park pass I bought. After all it’s still good for the next four days.
-Ziko
