Weeks and weeks before we set off for Maine, I made a deal/requirement with Hubs: he and our Chicago friend could spend a day indulging and food and drink, as they tend to do when they’re together, and I can go off on a crazy hike and drive us all home. I like breweries and seafood fine, but more than that, I like mountains and ladders. So, the guys dropped me at one of the park’s free shuttle pickups and set off on their own adventures at local breweries, while I tried to figure out exactly how many trails I could complete in four hours. The answer, of course, was not enough.
At first I figured I would take on the Beehive, a fun-looking trail with some ladders. But this Precipice Trail, supposedly the most challenging trail in the park with lots of vertical gain, piqued my interest. Would it be as bad as Mt. Mansfield? Did the shuttle even stop there? Minutes later, someone pulled the shuttle’s stop cord and “PRECIPICE TRAIL” flashed on the screen, and before I could fully process my decision, I had jumped out of my seat and moved toward the door.
As promised by AllTrails, the first rebar was the most challenging, but I managed to hold my balance while silently scolding myself for letting my weight training fall to the wayside. The climb up carried me across narrow rock ledges, over more ladders, and over more narrow rock ledges and ladders. As I ascended, I could see better and better views of the bay, or whatever it is, to the east side of the park.
As I reached the top of Champlain Mountain, looked southeast across the water, looked west across Dorr Mountain, tried to ignore the groups of people that passed as I plucked huckleberries and dropped them into my Nalgene, I realized how small Acadia was. It wasn’t the vast expansive park I was expecting, based on my trip to the Smokies earlier this year. You think “National Park” and imagine vast landscapes. Sometimes crowds, yes, but more space for them.
But I soon realized, as I explained the difference between huckleberries and blueberries (thanks Rob!) and encouraged passersby to try them, that this park isn’t meant to be an epic and untouched wilderness. Instead, it’s a living specimen of one of the most singular and beautiful environments in the country. No matter what happens to the rest of Maine’s rocky and pine-filled coastline, this little part will be protected and preserved so that others can enjoy it and understand its significance.
I spent probably an hour and a half gathering berries on top of Champlain. I could have banged out more trails. I could have chosen tougher, longer trails, on peaks with more recognizable names. But instead, I plucked berries, one or two at a time, enjoying the late afternoon sun and the breeze, eating leftover sandwiches from the Isle au Haut adventure the previous day, content for once in my life to just sit and be. When my Nalgene was full, I followed the trail down Champlain’s south ridge, using the rock cairns as my guide as I watched Sand Beach get slowly closer. I headed down the Beehive, chatted with some other dayhikers, and happily sprinted to the shuttle stop as I saw the last bus of the day pull into its waiting spot, ready to take me back to the town and the guys.
INTERLUDE FOR FACE-SIZED HOT PRETZELS IN BAR HARBOR
And standing in my friend’s backyard, with a headlamp, bothering porcupines.
I was back at it the next day. Here’s the thing: months ago, I planned to finally take on the legendarily tough Pemigewassett Loop in New Hampshire. I now had only two weeks until my departure date, and with my training set back by giardia, this Maine trip would indicate whether I was ready. If I hiked awesomely, I’d head to New Hampshire.
But I still had to balance my ulterior motives with the abilities of my non-backpacker comrades, as well as Saturday morning traffic at Acadia. None of us had any solid plans or must-do hikes, so we simply stopped when we found an empty parking spot north of Jordan Pond. On the Bubbles Divide Trail we went.
We hiked a short distance to the top of North Bubble, then continued north to Conners Nubble overlooking Eagle Lake. We took overly dramatic photos with Eagle Lake and Cadillac Mountain in the backgrounds, until the horseflies came out and forced us to descend to the trail that looped around the southern end of the lake. We ended up in a neat cedar-sprinkled grove and took a brief stop for sandwiches before heading back to the parking lot.
Part of me wanted to take a few more miles and go up Pemetic Mountain, but we had dogs to walk and tacos to make, so we drove up to the top of Cadillac Mountain instead. Today’s hike was a shorter one at 3.5 miles, but for the non-crazy backpackers among us it was probably plenty.
Darn those clouds! I’d planned on catching the Perseid meteor shower that night (it’s supposed to be AWESOME from Sand Beach) but the cloud cover made stargazing impossible.
Oh well – I’m sure this will not be my last time in Maine.
Lumba Hikes 
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