in the Maine woods

Phone is near death, so I’ll be brief. I spent the last two days at York Harbor, completely taken with the drama of the tide there. Twice a day, it hides then reveals great outcrops of rock and tremendous stretches of beach, and in its intervals of high tide it rearranges smaller rocks, peppering them with sea foliage and any other refuse that happens to be at hand, leaving, at low tide, fresh compositions to consider. At low tide it’s like a vast, dynamic Japanese rock garden. A beautiful place to walk and meditate.

But I rode 75 miles from there today, in the rain and with a wicked northern headwind, and now I am listening to the wildlife of the Maine woods. I was going to stop at a campground called Friends-N-Family, but I found their $37 site fee substantially less than friendly. So then I was aiming for Bradbury Mtn. State Park, but just a mile or two southwest of West Pownal, a very pleasant looking pine woods caught my eye. Secluded enough to feel comfortable making myself at home even with a couple of hours of daylight left, and roomy enough to walk my bike into a put down my tent. And the ground’s even softer than it was in Massachusetts.


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