RAMBLES ON MOUNT DESERT ISLE (page 3)
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A short walk on the Shore Path
The morning was exceedingly damp and raw but I decided to spend my last hours here on the shore. Once off the island and looking back I could see the clouds breaking over the mountain tops and a thick bank of fog drifting in off the bay. It took all my will not to to turn around and go back.
A ramble atop the Beehive
The top of the Beehive was more broken than most mountains found here, its slopes were steep and limiting. The trail running across it provided for views in every direction but was inadequate to meet my disires. For most of my time on the summit I found myself off trail, circumnavigating it more than once. I don’t know if it was the difficulty of the terrain or that I was just tired out but I had to take extra care with each step as my footing here seemed uncertain and my balance became a matter of survival.
A 13 Mile loop between Bar Harbor and Great Head
When in the mountains it is very difficult to near impossible to capture the sense of the vast space around you. The long continuous rhythms in the folds of the land are abruptly silenced by the end of the picture frame. Small nuances that seem dramatic to the eye will disappear on film. The secret is not to try to capture the unattainable but look for those things that hint at it. I spent a good deal of the day off the beaten track on unmarked ledges of Champlain Mountain and the Beehive in the effort to find such vantage points. As always the position of the sun can make or break a shot and I wasn’t always optimally situated. This is something I’ve learned to accept when hiking from dawn into the night.
A walk between the ponds
I stuck to the carriage roads where the land offered me its bounty. Days of wet weather had swelled the lichen until they were bright and spongy. In places they grew so thick it was as if a giant wave had swept over the landscape leaving behind thousands of creatures from the bottom of the sea.
A 10 mile loop between Bar Harbor and Witch Hole Pond
It had rained all morning and Duck Creek was heavily swollen. I could hear its waters rushing far below and well out of sight as I headed down the road that followed the gorge. It was more than tempting to find a way down the slope but it was much too steep to bushwhack for a simple a misstep could land me a good distance further down than intended on the hard rocks below. But as I neared the bridge a sudden glimpse of the fast rushing water over a small fall was incentive enough for me to tempt fate and off the road I went. There was not a moment that I felt secure on the ground that I stood so I withdrew as soon as I got the shots I craved.
A 13 mile loop between Bar Harbor and the Featherbead
I was met with a blast of cold air as soon as I neared the summit of Cadillac. It wasn’t just cold but blowing strong and insistently. Even the tourists who had driven up were not wandering far from their cars. On reaching the Mountain’s north slope the sun began to fade behind the approaching clouds long before sunset. As the light grew ever more soft the landscape grew calm, as calm as could be. It was one of those moments that I wish would never end. But the day grew darker and I had miles to go.
A climb up Door Mountain
The recent earthquake had damaged the precarious Ladder Trail beyond use but it was a good excuse to try out the more distant Cascade Trail in ascending Dorr Mountain. It had been way too dry to see it at its best but it still mustered up incredible beauty. Here the world’s creation has not yet ended.
Copyright 2009 Alan Petrulis All Rights Reserved