"What am I trying to say? The same as before--everything. Nothing more than that. Everything implied by water, motion, rivers, boats. By the flowing..."
--Edward Abbey, "Down the River"

Floating down the calm lower portion of the Kennebec River in my raft yesterday afternoon, guide stick resting across my lap, I was once again overcome by the beauty of this river. By the rocks and trees, the waves and the holes, the pools and eddies, the ospreys and moose. By the thrill of the ride through the rapids I now know by heart. By the good fortune of having my friends on board to share the experience and provide an unending stream of laughter and cheer, brightening up even a rainy day like this one.

The Kennebec River is a very special place. And fourteen years after learning how to read whitewater and paddle a raft, I have not tired of running it. Running rivers is an addiction I will likely never find a cure for.

Thank goodness.

Because I will always want to feel the knot in my stomach as we put in below the dam at Harris Station. Feel the dark walls of the Kennebec Gorge looming over me as we float into the rapids. Hear the roar of the water as we sweep down through Big Mama and Whitewasher and Big Kahuna. Feel the excitement build as we slide carefully toward the big haystack that signals the start of Magic, then smacking the diagonal wave that pushes the boat left into the hole for that famous double hit. Whoosh! Wham! Splash! The screams from the crew of paddlers, and the bug-eyed face of the occasional swimmer overboard, taking the ride of a lifetime. To revel in the cameraderie that only a small raft on a big river can bring.

It's all there... on the river. Just like Ed said.

The Kennebec River from the raft.

Above the bar at the Marshall Inn in The Forks, on the banks of the Kennebec River.

On the way to The Forks and the Kennebec and Dead Rivers for some paddling Friday afternoon, I stopped at the Williams General Store in Bingham for one of their famous hot dogs. I wasn't terribly hungry, but the thought of passing by without one was too much.

I walked up to the window and ordered from the nice woman inside, excited about being up in river country again, and possibly more so at the thought of a delicious dog, which is my most favorite food, excepting peanut butter.

As she turned back toward the grill, I queried, "And can you please toast my buns?"

She stopped dead, pivoted around and came back to the window with a big smile, and looked me up and down.

"I don't know," she said, "can you fit on the grill?"

I was momentarily tongue-tied by her response, but then we both just burst out laughing!

The conversation with Betty and her co-worker was all downhill from there. It was a fun and very interesting few minutes of chatter and laughter while my dog--a red snapper--was grilled to perfection and loaded up with the works.

And as Betty handed over my prize food, she said, "Ya know, if they paid me to be mouthy, I'd be a millionaire."

No doubt.

I took a bite and walked off chuckling. I just love it up on the river!

Hmmm. Can you say f-l-o-o-d warnings? I knew you could.

Let the fun begin...

"Both sides ahead. Dig it in. Hard!"

We're only a day away from the Dead River Dunk, an annual MOAC event 11 years running that has become a true classic weekend on my outdoors calendar.

The usual plan includes camping right on the banks of the Dead River in The Forks at Webb's Campground, and three glorious days of kayaking and rafting on the Dead and the Kennebec. And mucho fun with a great group of river rats.

But given the rainy weather we've been having (oh, you haven't noticed?) I expect there will be nothing "usual" about this year's trip at all.

The beta on current river flows from local guide Carolyn at Riverdrivers in The Forks has the Dead running anywhere from 7-8,000 cfs to more than 10,000 cfs. (That's cubic feet per second for you river rookies.) She says the Kennebec has been seeing normal flows of 4,800 cfs through the gorge, but USGS data shows considerably higher than that.

In any case, we're going to have plenty of big water, that's for certain. Especially if it keeps on raining. And it will. The levels on the Dead for our Saturday kayak trip may be a bit more than most of us are up for, but there's always the raft. We'll see.

I rafted the Dead a few years back at 15,000 cfs and it was pretty crazy. Sixteen miles of muddy brown turbulence running so big and fast that we were done in two hours. Wild!

So we're going and it will be good. Rain be damned.

Besides, I've got to get my green chili burrito fix at the Marshall Saturday night or I'll go nuts. Worse than I already am.

Can't wait to get back "on the river" this weekend.

What are your outdoor plans for this long weekend?

It could be worse. All this precip could be snow... like it is on Mount Washington. Of course, I'm deranged enough to not mind that, since my ski gear is still right in the hallway. I could go for a few more turns. But I digress...

It's been snowing every day up on the rock pile for the better part of a week. 90 mph winds have been common. And today it's more freezing rain and ice. So bad that summit crews have been forced to use "shovels, mallets and crowbars" to open doors!

Workers on the summit seem pretty resigned that, for them, spring is a long way off.

I know the feeling, folks. I know the feeling.

Right about this time three years ago I was nearing the end of a 100 mile trek through Scotland along the West Highland Way. In weather strikingly similar to today... gray, wet and cold. But at least I expected it to rain a lot in Scotland in May.

The first two days out of Glascow (the trek begins a few miles outside the city) we had warm, sunny weather. My hiking companions and I even dared to joke that, wouldn't it be something if we returned home from Scotland of all places with a tan.

Well, that was certainly a rather silly thought.

We awoke on the morning of the third day to a light mist. As we walked along the last few miles of Loch Lomond and climbed into the higher hills, the mist turned to a steady drizzle. And by the time we reached the muddy track on the outskirts of the little village of Crianlarich, it was a full-on heavy rain.

Surprisingly, we reveled in the weather. It added to the Scotland experience. After all, it was supposed to rain there.

And it did, every day for the rest of the trek. Thank goodness for cozy inns and pubs each night!

So today I figured, what are the chances that it's nice weather in Scotland while we sit here in Maine marooned in this endless crappy weather pattern.

I'm happy to report that today it's also raining in Glascow. But the forecast for the next few days is drier and warmer with partly sunny skies.

That's a better forecast than we'll have.

It's got to end sometime. It will, won't it???

You didn't actually think I'd skip a day without having something to say about the rain, did you?

Uh huh.

It's on everybody's mind. It's bigger news than the Red Sox. It got so bad the other night that friends and I were actually laughing hysterically at the flummoxed TV meteorologist and his forecast of a "prolonged wind and rain event."

Did he actually say "hoochiemagawa" in reference to the rain? Yes, he did.

Anyway, as my mind continues its steady transformation into the consistency of cottage cheese with this weather pattern, I thought I might look into possibility of building an ark.

You know, just in case. Just in case it NEVER STOPS.

Hey, I like whitewater. Why not ride it out in an ark. Maybe catch some big waves.

You'd be welcome on board. In pairs, of course.

I was thumbing through the latest issue of The Maintainer, the quarterly newsletter of the Maine Appalachian Trail Club, the other day when I came upon an astounding statistic: Last year MATC volunteers contributed 18,496 hours of work.

18,496 hours! I damn near fell on the floor. That's a lot of volunteering. And all, one way or the other, in the interest of protecting and maintaining the Appalachian Trail.

Kudos to each and every MATC volunteer!

But amazingly, it's not ever enough.

Reading further on, I see that the MATC still needs many more volunteers to carry the load. There's trail work trips and caretaker pack-ins to be done. More section maintainers and corridor monitors are needed. And a variety of committee assignments are open.

And it's not just the MATC that needs more volunteers to make things happen. It's every trail and outdoor organization in Maine, big and small, that needs more dedicated people to put in some time and help out.

It's a busy life these days. Understood.

But I truly feel it's incumbent upon all of us trail users--hikers, bikers, x-c skiers, you name it--to give a little something back to our trails.

Think about it: That nicely cleared trail you walk over next weekend, the bog bridges that keep your boots dry, the signs that point the way, the shelters you sleep cozily in--all of that doesn't just happen by itself. It takes people and hours and work to get it done. Year after year.

Give it some thought. Contact your local trail club, outdoor group, land trust, conservation or recreation department. Ask what kind of help they need. They'll surely have something needing doing. Then kindly pitch in a few hours for them in the interest of our trails. It'll be rewarding for sure, and you'll never get so many thank you's.

So here's your first: Thanks to all of you for giving back to the trails we all use and love.

The rain is softening my brain. It must be.

Why else would I sit here, waterlogged and mildly dispirited, and google for ridiculous things like "the rain in Maine" and "rain suits".

It's grim. Very grim. But being damp and bored can yield some interesting information, however.

I discovered that the rain that falls on Maine today is anywhere from 10 to 100 times more acidic than it was a few years back.

That's nice.

So not only is there mold growing rather profusely between my toes, but I'm slowly being eaten alive by heavy-duty acid rain every time I step outside.

To combat this I found that I can buy industrial strength, heavyweight rainsuits in bulk for only $4.95 each if I buy 20 or more.

I think I'm in. You want one? Two?

It's Murphy's Law, I swear. Never fails.

Out on the AT doing trail maintenance a week ago, my crew and I came to the end of my section, near the end of a busy and tiring day, and found one more tree that needed clearing.

It was a 15-inch spruce tree a few feet in from the shore of East Carry Pond. Internal rot had visibly weakened the tree at a point about eye level, and it was starting get a pretty good lean to it. Toward the trail. Not good.

It had to go. So I cranked up the chainsaw and started in on it.

The cutting was going pretty smoothly and I was most of the way through when the chain decided to come flying off, fortunately leaving my exposed hand intact.

Of course, did I happen to pack the tool for opening up the side of the saw and putting the chain back on so I could finish the job? Noooooooooooooo!

So now I have a big spruce tree half sawed through in a more dangerous position than when a I found it a few minutes earlier. And no chainsaw. Two miles from the truck and late in the day.

Great!

What to do?

Well, first off, laugh a little and then curse a little.

Then the MacGyver's in the group started in.

We pushed at it, hoping to knock it over. Uh huh. Right.

We hacked at it with Chris's hand axe.

We sawed at it some more with my buck saw.

We hacked some more.

We pushed some more.

We grumbled a bit more.

But the damn tree wouldn't fall over.

Finally, we hacked and sawed and pushed and shoved til the tree moved off its stump. And ended up standing straight up in the middle of the trail!

And that's right where we left it for the night...

And returned first thing in the morning (in the rain), where John made quick work of it with his big saw. The spruce tree was no more, and my section of trail was now officially clear.

Whew! Trail maintenance is some fun I tell ya.

Another Sunday night of unpacking wet gear. Another Monday morning of wet. Another long range forecast of wet.

I've made the requisite offerings to Chac the rain god, but with no success.

I'm turning into a human mold.

How are you holding out?

A dozen of us headed north to the Carry Ponds region of the Appalachian Trail last weekend for some trail maintenance. A year ago I volunteered to maintain a 1.6 mile section of the AT from Sandy Stream to the north end of Easy Carry Pond. My good buddy Dana maintains the 3.3 mile section of trail immediately to the south, and has for ten years now.

So this is our second season doing joint maintenance trips up there. And it's working out pretty well. We camp each time in a gravel pit pretty near the middle of our sections. From our base there, we're positioned well to head off to our respective sections and start in on the work.

And that's just what we did last weekend.

As AT trail maintainers, we're charged with "opening" the trail in the spring sometime prior to Memorial Day. So we need to get in there and clear out all the blowdowns and brush from the pathway, thereby opening it for hikers coming through. We'll normally come back at least once or more during the summer season to check on it again and do more work.

Saturday morning we split the group into two teams, gathered up our chainsaws, gas and oil, clippers, bucksaws and the like and headed out.

A side note for later: Just before leaving to work, I watched Dana walk off toward Sandy Stream with a case of beer to let it chill in the water for the day. But I didn't take notice (can you imagine?) of exactly where he went to hide it. More on that later...

Anyway, my crew had a very enjoyable afternoon clearing some 15-20 major blowdowns along the route. It's tough work, but we had fun with it.

Bucking up some blowdowns on the AT.

Clipping back the encroaching brush.

It's a simply stunning piece of trail that leads through beautiful boreal forest for a mile before breaking out onto the shore of East Carry Pond, where it heads north for a spectacular half mile or more.

At the sand beach we stopped to rest and snack. There we met up with local camp owners Frank and Sheila who were out trout fishing. We got to talking about the trail and I learned that the old East Carry Pond shelter still existed on the other side of the pond, which is the route the AT took when I thru-hiked years ago.

Well, of course, this got me all excited, so Frank very kindly offered to take me over there in his boat to see it. Oh yeah! And off we went... And no doubt, there it was, in pretty poor condition, but still standing. Right there where I left it after having lunch on an incredible October day 27 years ago. A trip back in time for sure. (Thanks Frank!).

Getting a ride across the pond from Frank.

Checking out the old East Carry Pond shelter.

When I returned to the far shore and the trail, we had a little more work to do.

A big spruce tree had a break in it and was threatening to topple over onto the trail. So we went to work on it. The complete story on the spruce tree will have to wait, but for now, suffice it to say, we spent a damn long time working to remove that tree before we gave up, gathered our tools and hiked out.

Me and the spruce that just wouldn't go down.

My hard working crew at the north end of the pond.

Back at the trail junction, hot and sweaty and tired by now, we remembered that there was cold beer hidden nearby. Dana's beer. Soon to be our beer, if we could find it. So we spread out and started searching up one side of the stream and down the other.

Although it didn't look good for awhile, some in my group expressed complete confidence that, if anybody could find beer hidden in the woods (or anywhere for that matter), it would be me.

They were right. Upstream, hidden in a crook in the stream under a hemlock, I found the beer. And immediately removed five cold cans, one for each of us, and returned triumphantly to the others. And proceeeded to quench our serious trail maintenance thirsts.

We went back to camp and made ourselves at home. Dana's crew pulled in awhile later, having knocked out 45 major blowdowns on the route from Arnold Bog all the way to West Carry Pond. Good job!

It was an enjoyable evening sitting about around the campfire, and a well earned night's rest.

Surprise, surprise. It was raining when we awoke Sunday morning, so we decided to bag any more work for the weekend, with the exception of going back and getting that intractable spruce tree on my section, which we did.

Most of the big crew in the rain Sunday morning.

Then we packed the vehicles and headed directly for a well-earned big breakfast/lunch at the world famous Farmington Diner.

Pitcher plants.

A big, beautiful fungus.

Listen Matt, you and me, we've gotta talk. I saw your weekend weather forecast this morning and I'm not happy. Rain. Rain for five weekends in a row.

You've got to help us out Matt. Please. We're dying out here. We've got to have sun! We want to get out and hike and bike and paddle. Yes, we have foul weather gear. And we know how to use it, sure. But I didn't buy a rain suit to live in it!

Oh my God, I think I'm whining. No, I am whining. Get yourself together boy. {slap, slap}

Okay, my gear duffle is packed. Day pack too. With rain gear. {snicker} And I'm headed up to the Sugarloaf area to look at some real estate and get a hike or two in. Weather forecast be damned.

I'll be thinking of you Matt. Warm and dry at home. You have a good weekend now...

An update on the recent Tumbledown gate controversy...

Weld residents held a special town meeting this week and voted to reject the gate proposed by the new landowner.

So the matter is decided for now. No gate. Hiker and vehicle access to the Tumbledown trailhead is preserved.

But it looks like a lot of changes--good changes--are in the offing.

An foot trail easement to the trailhead has been proposed. State offficials are working on a long-term forest management plan for the Tumbledown land unit. There will be improvements made to the existing road to correct erosion problems.

And there will be other restrictions that should help improve the use and appearance of the area: a host of firepits will be removed, and not only will campfires be banned, but no fire permits will be issued. I didn't note anything about any camping restrictions, but the new fire restrictions may naturally limit that.

All in all it looks like the local folks may get this matter solved in good order.

And ain't that the best way. I think so. Kudos.

Damn there's a lot cool outdoors stuff going on. I don't wanna hear any complaints from you about having nothing to do!

This weekend for you biker-types there's trail work at Bradbury Mountain State Park on Saturday, and a Bike Swap and Sell on Sunday in Portland.

From my friend Jeff at the Bicycle Coalition of Maine, the details:

This Saturday (5/21) we are looking for several volunteers to help do Trail Work at Bradbury Mountain State Park for the BCM / Maine NEMBA Trail Day. Meet at the park at 8am. Give BCM Board Member Fred Robie a shout at 865-6978 for further info.

This coming Sunday May 22nd is the Bike Swap and Sell from 10am -2pm at the Deering High School Gym at 137 Stevens Avenue in Portland. Part of the proceeds of this sale go to benefit the Bicycle Coalition of Maine. The public is invited to drop off bikes that they wish to sell at the Deering High Gym from 9:00am-10:00am, and if they sell during the day, a check will be issued minus 15% commission at 2:00pm that day. Unsold bikes must be picked up at 2:00pm or they will be donated to charity. For more information please call Bath Cycle and Ski at 1-800-BIKEMAN.

All good stuff! Get on out there...

Sorry about the late notice, but...

The Maine Chapter of the Appalachian Mountain Club is holding a Beginning Backpacking Workshop tonight in Falmouth from 6:30 to 10 PM. The workshop is free and open to both AMC members and non-members.

So if you're a novice backpacker or a backpacker-wannabe, then this is a great opportunity to learn a thing or two from some very experienced hikers.

Here's the scoop from the Maine AMC folks:

Thurs., May 19. Introduction to Backpacking Workshop: Learn what you need for safe overnight travel on the trails: tents, backpacks, food, stove, water purification, clothes, and a variety of outdoor hints. This workshop is designed for beginner or experienced hikers who want to be able to spend overnights on the trail. Follow-up with weekend trip see June 11-12. Community Center Room, Norway Savings Bank, Rt 1 Falmouth. 6:30 - 10PM. Info/directions/pre-registration, contact JoAnne Diller at 647-2117.

Have fun!

I left the house this morning dressed in the usual layers of fleece and windbreaker, expecting more of the same damp and chilly weather that has been the norm for however long now.

But then, as I walked around to the car, I felt something.

Hmmm. What is this?

Sunshine.

Warmth.

And now, as I look out my office window (which I do a lot rather than actually work... shhh!!!), I see the temperature on the Time & Temp Building has risen to a balmy 57 degrees and the sky is bright blue with only a smattering of wispy clouds.

Could it be? Could spring finally be here... to stay? Could it really be possible to be outdoors without a full rain suit on?

The forecast for the weekend even looks reasonable. I shutter to think, but it might actually be time to hike in... shorts!

It's Wednesday. Hump day. And I'm feeling a little goofy. So what's new, you say? I know...

So I thought I'd bring out "the hat" for a little mid-week, too-far-from-the- weekend levity.

There's nothing goofier than this hat. It has moose antlers and is adorned with all kinds of little outdoor things, like a compass, carabiners, canoe, lantern, compass, climbing rope and the like. It's quite unique!

It was all hand made by some special friends several years ago when I was still president of the Maine Outdoor Adventure Club. And it was presented to me in a most embarrassing way--right in the middle of the MOAC meeting. But we a good laugh about it and I loved them all for their thoughtfulness.

I had some friends over a few weeks ago to show some slides of my AT adventures. One thing led to another, as it always does with this particular crowd, and the next thing you know, they're taking the hat off the shelf and making me wear the silly thing once again. Maybe it was the beer. Hard to say. But we got another damn good laugh about it.

The "MOAC Grand Poo-Bah" hat

Hike around in the woods of Maine this time of year and you'll likely see plenty of wet spots and small pools of water on the forest floor. A month or so from now these wet spots will be mostly dried up and gone. And you'll think nothing more of it, beyond that your boots and socks will be a lot drier as you walk along.

But these wet areas, called vernal pools, are critically important to many wildlife species, big and small. They are to the land what estuaries are to the coast: incredible breeding and feeding grounds for all sorts of wildlife. From frogs and salamanders to deer and moose. The little guys come to these pools to lay their eggs, while the big guys come to feed there. So there's a lot going on in and around these vernal pools that you might never notice. It's really a beautiful thing in Mother Nature's grand scheme of the cycle of life.

Over time, however, development has wiped out many areas of vernal pools. But now the state is taking measures to try to protect them, as the Gov is set to sign a bill pretty soon. It's going to add another layer of regulation for landowners and developers to deal with, but hopefully it'll be a good compromise between protecting these important areas of wildlife habitat and allowing needed development. It's always a delicate balancing act for sure.

So the next time you're out hiking, take a closer look around at the vernal pools and see what's happening. If you look carefully you may be pleasantly surprised at all the activity you'll find. Amazing, isn't it?

Yes, it's true.

My compass, my point of reference, my center of the civilized world, my source of great joy and happiness and sustenance and liquid refreshment is...

... closed. Gone. Albeit temporarily.

Yes, that's right folks. Bleacher's Restaurant & Pub on Forest Ave., a Portland icon these many years, closed its doors last evening. But not before a raucous evening of Monday Night Trivia amidst a crowd that was wall to wall and mug to mug.

I was there, of course, with several other local adventurers, my butt seated comfortably on a familiar stool, my elbows rubbing the familiar wood of the bar, my hand clutching that familiar pint glass. We drank (responsibly of course) and reminisced and yucked it up. It was fun. It was sad. It was the end of an era.

But alas, owners Chuck and Gladys assure me that Bleacher's will be re-opening in their new location at 118 Preble St. in Portland sometime in the next month. And there will be cause for celebration once again.

But in the meantime, there will be a void. Where will we adventurers go for sustenance and liquid replenishment after mountain biking, road biking, hiking, sea kayaking, walking the Back Cove, and other strenuous physical outdoor activity?

That is the tough question I ponder today. How to make it through.

So I ask you, what will you do to fill this temporary void?

If any of you adventurous types happen to find yourself in the vicinity of Oldham, England this coming weekend, you may want to consider participating in the annual Beer Walk. According to the official Beer Walk website, "the event consists of a 10 mile walk in fancy dress with only 6 pints of beer as sustenance."

I'm not sure about the 'fancy dress' part of it, but the walk and the beer sure sounds like fun. And damn if the English don't know how to have a good time, outdoors and in. I can certainly attest that they do!

Hmmm. Maybe I should check with my travel agent today...

By now, most of you know all about Aron Ralston, the 27 year-old Colorado adventurer who cut off his own arm in order to extract himself from a slot canyon in the Utah wilderness where he had been trapped for six days. And I trust many of you have read his heart-stopping book Between a Rock and a Hard Place by now.

Many of you have requested a copy of the NBC Dateline special on Aron Ralston, Desperate Days in Blue John Canyon, which aired last September 10th, and which I happened to tape. I've repeatedly declined, of course, as that would be illegal, and I'm not about to go there.

Well, thanks to reader Kal, you all have an opportunity to see it and tape it for yourselves.

According to Kal: TLC is showing "The Aron Ralston Story - Trapped in a Canyon" this week. May 18 Wednesday, and May 22 Sunday. It is a near carbon-copy of the same show as presented by NBCs Dateline last September. Tom Brokaw, 2 hours long. Make your own copy - save Carey from the bad food and 5x8 cell!

So there you have it. Settle in, make the popcorn and happy viewing (and taping!)

And thanks for letting us know Kal.

A great many of our favorite hiking trails in Maine cross privately owned land. And it's oftentimes a tenuous relationship between landowners and hikers and other users.

Understandibly so.

Opening up your land to outdoor users is a Maine tradition, but it comes with its problems. Like trash and vandalism and the like. And all too often (but not always) it's not us hikers that cause such problems, but other less thoughtful users.

Regardless, whenever and wherever you hike, whether it's on private land or public land (and often you just won't know and it really doesn't matter), please tread lightly, be courteous and treat the land as if it were your own.

Follow the principles of Leave No Trace and we'll all have a more enjoyable hiking experience. And very likely, a lot fewer problems with kind, but wary landowners.

Baxter State Park officially opened for the season yesterday, May 15th, but winter has not been kind to the park road system, so the majority of trails and campgrounds will be late opening up this year.

I spoke with Baxter State Park naturalist Jean Hoekwater this morning and she gave me the lowdown on current park conditions and what we might expect for the next several weeks. Park officials are asking the public to be patient and give the park sufficient time to let things thaw out and dry out.

The Park has big trucks and crews in there right now trying to repair a great many washouts and remove blowdowns, but it's a slow process. The recent heavy rains haven't helped the situation any, and as much as 39 inches of snow is reported to be still on the ground at Chimney Pond.

There is no through traffic on the main Nesowadnehunk Tote Road. From the south entrance at Togue Pond, you can travel only as far as Foster Field. The road into Roaring Brook is closed beyond Rum Brook. At the Park's north end, you can travel only as far as the Fowler Ponds trailhead, so getting to South Branch Pond is out for now.

There are no trails open on Mount Katahdin at this time. And it may be as late as June 1st before any actually do open. The Abol Trail, on the south side of the mountain, will likely be the first, and may possibly open prior to the Memorial Day weekend. But many lower mountain trails will likely be opening up soon.

As for campgrounds, only Abol, Katahdin Stream, Daicey Pond and Kidney Pond are open at this time. The park hopes to have South Branch and Russell Pond open by the 20th, but that's iffy.

So, bottom line: If you have hiking plans or camping reservations for Baxter State Park over the next several weeks, please call ahead at 723-5140 to make sure you can get in to where you're going. If you don't have camping reservations, you may call the park and make them with a credit card.

And just in case you weren't aware, the park has completely revamped their reservation process to a new "rolling reservation system". There's a lot to it and I recommend checking it out yourself to be sure you understand how it works.

So give the good folks up there a little time to do their thing. And just think, while we're all waiting patiently to get in and enjoy the park, the black flies will have that much more time to gather strength and plan their bloody attacks on our arms and legs!

If you take a walk along the beautiful Kennebec River Rail Trail these days, you'd better look down, as well around, as you go. Or you might be in for a surprise, or two, or three.

Dog poops!

Apparently dog owners and their faithful pets are being less than diligent about cleaning up after themselves along the trail. And that has created quite a doggie-poop minefield through which trail users must navigate or else suffer the smelly consequences on their shoes.

No need of that.

Solution?

Well, common sense and a little courtesy would help. But I know that's often in short supply.

Dog owners: let's try this one. Let's say that maybe every darn one of us has to stop into Hannaford's or Shaw's or somewhere to buy groceries on say, a weekly basis. And that when we emerge from the store, we probably have in our hands or cart quite a few little plastic grocery bags. Useful bags. Now let's say that over the course of time you find that these bags accumulate to overflowing in your pantry and you just can't figure what to do with all of them.

Ahah!

Because you have hundreds of these bags, you discover that by taking one or two with you each time you walk your pet along the Kennebec River Rail Trail, you can easily and quite sanitarily clean up after Rover has done his or her business. You then put said used bag into your pocket and saunter on.

Problem solved.

Oh yeah, then there's the other problem along the trail: vandalism.

I have a super-low tolerance for vandals, those cretins who defile and destroy public and private property at a whim for no damn good reason, other than they have a slow leakage of brain fluid from the back of their cranial vault.

Heavy foot and bike traffic along the trail, any trail, usually helps to minimize vandalism. But it seems they always find a time and a place to do their dirty deeds.

I can't say here what I'd like to see done to any vandals that get caught. Unfortunately, most don't, but occasionally...

It's a real nice thing to see local students getting together with the folks from the Cathance River Education Alliance this weekend to plant chestnut trees at the Cathance River Nature Preserve.

The American Chestnut, a stately shade tree by all measures, was pretty much wiped out over the course of the last century by a fungal blight, and you won't find a chestnut tree around today that amounts to anything more than a shrub.

I remember seeing huge chestnut trees (we're talking many, many feet around in girth) in the park near where I lived in N.J. as a youngster. And when the trees would shed their load of chestnuts, walking through the park was like trying to walk on huge ball bearings. Of course we kids also found the chestnuts very useful for throwing at passing cars, but that's another story.

This is nice effort, and I hope we can start to reverse the decline of the chestnut little by little. Kudos folks.

By the way, if you're looking for something to do on National Trails Day on June 4th, check out the guided hikes and trail maintenance that'll be going on at the Cathance River Nature Preserve that day.

Our legislators in Augusta may have had a hard time deciding whether or not to impose a canoe and kayak tax recently, but they didn't waste much time getting a bill passed to ban remote-control hunting in Maine.

Thank goodness. See, there is a modicum of common sense up there in the Capitol. On occasion.

By the way, who the heck has ever heard of remote-control hunting?

Now, I'm not a hunter, but I do support the right and long tradition in Maine to hunt for sport. I remember a thing or two about wildlife management from my forestry days at the University of Maine, and therefore understand the principles of game management. And hunting--appalling as it is to many people--plays a critical role in maintaining healthy population levels of the various game species, both big and small.

But remote-control hunting? No way. Hunters have a big enough advantage as it is. They're called guns. By at least having to track their quarry the old-fashioned way, rather than using high-tech gear, it keeps at least some of the sport in the sport.

Way to go on this one Gov.

Now how about that canoe and kayak tax? And you never got back to me on my hiking boot tax? When you gonna call?

Easy access to some of the the most popular trails up Tumbledown Mountain in Weld is threatened by trash, but it's not hiker trash, that's for sure.

The timber company that recently bought the land doesn't want to bar hikers, but is fed up with the garbage and sanitation problems at the trailhead and wants to put up a gate.

I can't blame them.

The trailhead is at the edge of a large, unregulated camping area, and it's usually an absolute disgrace with large groups of 'yahoo' campers on the weekends camping willy-nilly all over the place. It's an unsightly mess with huge firepits, garbage, beer cans and the like littering the area, never mind the poor sanitation in the surrounding woods.

I hope the solution doesn't come down to a gate, which would force hikers to park a mile further down the road from the trailhead. But without any way to properly patrol the area and keep people and their trash under control, it may have to have happen.

I'll walk a mile further each way if it means the area gets cleaned up and stays that way.

The local folks are trying to work out a solution, so we'll see what shakes out.

There's a grassy field out behind my Mom's house, and just beyond is a brushy wood interspersed with pricky pear cactus and wildflowers that extends downhill a quarter mile to shore of Lake Benbrook.

I sat out there Friday evening at twilight relaxing a bit, enjoying the serenading crickets, and the oncoming darkness.

That's when I saw them.

Fireflies!

My goodness, I honestly can't remember the last time I saw fireflies!

And for many delightful minutes I watched in amazement as they flitted and danced through the trees along the field, flashing their little lights all about, and bringing the smile of a kid to my face.

It was one of those moments of childish wonder that occur much too infrequently in our busy adult worlds.

Don't you remember? How we kids would dash out the door after supper on a hot summer's evening to catch fireflies. We'd gently cup our hands around them and catch them from the air, then put them safely into our jar with some grass. Dad would punch a few air holes holes in the metal lid, and we'd take our prized jar inside and set it on the nightstand next to our beds. And watch with the big-eyed wonder that only a kid can have, until sleep took over...

Now you know darn well that I love Maine with a passion. I've been here a good many years now. And although I can never be a "native" (You know... "if my cat had kittens in the oven, I wouldn't call 'em biscuits" and all that), nowhere else will ever be "home."

But...

I sure do love the West. And I've just returned from there, so it's fresh on my mind.

I love the big open spaces, the big sky, the smell. There seems to be more room to move about, to breathe. There's a real sense of freedom there that doesn't seem to exist in the more congested, tree-covered East.

The last of the sun's rays over the plains of north Texas Sunday evening.

I don't know if I could ever live out there, but I sure do love to visit. Often.

But I'm back home now and am quite happy to see the trees and smell the ocean...

Some differences, like that between a gray birch tree and a white birch--and many other differences--will very likely never matter anymore. Just a thought.

Despite the gorgeous 80 degree Texas temps, I spent part of last weekend rummaging around inside my Mom's garage, sorting through boxes and trying to winnow down many years of stuff she doesn't need anymore.

In amongst the boxes I was surprised to find a few boxes of my own that contained a great many treasures I had long forgotten about. I guess my packrat tendencies extend all the way to the deep south!

And then, tucked away in a corner, I discovered one quite unexpected prize item:

My old A.T. hiking staff!

Now, I didn't walk the entire two-grand with it. I was hiking along stick-less (I'd broken my last staff a few days before) in northern Massachusetts when I stopped to chat with another hiker who was out for the weekend. He was impressed enough with my tales of hiking all the way from Georgia that he insisted I take his nice hiking staff and carry it with me the rest of the journey.

It was a beautiful staff "made of good Tennessee ironwood" as I recall he said, and had a nice brass tip on the end. More trail magic indeed!

There was no way I was going to pass on this wonderful offer, so I accepted, thanked the fine gentleman, and hiked on. 550 more miles to Katahdin with the sturdy staff in hand.

And now I unearth the thing in my Mom's garage years later. Go figure.

That's my Mom with my old A.T. hiking staff in hand.

Everything is bigger in Texas, so the saying goes. And that's where I'm headed for a couple of days. To check in on Mom at her house out in the ranch lands of Crowley just south of Fort Worth.

No big adventure. Just a lot of little ones. Since Dad's passing last fall Mom needs a little extra help and support. So there's yard work to be done, the garage needs cleaning, paperwork to put in order. Trips to the mall and the supermarket. Things that were easier with Dad around, but not now.

But that's just fine. The wildflowers will be out. The backyard will be full of wild turkeys, and deer and armadillos. And the sunset across Lake Benbrook always inspires me. I'll think of Dad for sure and remember how much he loved this little place.

Sunset over the Lone Star State.

Mom has promised me a fridge full of Shiner beer, always a good motivator. And a trip out for Spring Creek BBQ, the best BBQ on the planet. Maybe some good Tex-Mex food too. And I'll take her out for a nice Mother's Day dinner somewhere. So we'll have some fun.

For me travel of any kind is a good thing. And the long plane ride will be good. Precious time to just sit and think. For the first time in awhile I've picked a window seat, and I'm looking forward to staring out at the diverse, ever-changing beauty below that is our wonderful country.

So that's my Mother's Day weekend adventure. What are your plans with your Mom?

Today is the nth anniversary of the start of my Appalachian Trail thru-hike from Georgia to Maine. I say nth because for some odd reason I'm a bit embarrassed to admit just how long ago it was.

I've been on many a big backpacking adventure in the years since, but there may never be another one to top the Appalachian Trail. It is the journey of a lifetime, and a powerful life changing journey at that. And I doubt if a day has gone by that I haven't thought at least in some little way about my AT experience.

Big journeys change people. No one returns from climbing Mount Everest the same. Or crossing Antarctica. Or sailing around the world. Or hiking the Appalachian Trail. You can see it in their eyes. Hear it in their voice. The physical and emotional toll of such a journey is enormous, and the effects are long lasting. And because it is such a deeply personal experience, it's often a hard thing to explain, to share.

But I did want to share with you my journal entry for that first, very special day on the trail. It reveals a young man who was happy, yet scared; determined, yet unsure. And despite all the planning and dreaming, I really had no idea what I'd gotten myself into. But the many long months of walking ahead of me would surely take care of that.

The entry was written long ago, so please bear with me...

May 5
Springer Mountain Shelter, Georgia

The sun beat down mercilessly as I paused to rest on the steep trail. I was sweating profusely, my shoulders ached from the heavy pack and I could feel a blister developing on my right heel. Refusing to acknowledge my condition I reshouldered my pack and trudged on. Minutes later the ridge leveled off and I came upon a weathered sign:

SPRINGER MOUNTAIN.
Southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. A mountain footpath extending 2,000 miles to Mt. Katahdin in Maine.

That's me atop Springer Mtn. Georgia and the start of the Appalachian Trail.

A warm glow of pride came over me and I momentarily forgot about my aches and pains. I had been following the white blazes of the AT in my dreams for several years and now I was really here. But I knew that walking 2,000 miles would be by no means easy. Maine suddenly seemed very distant. And I wasn’t so sure that I could carry this project through to the end. I was a long way from home and I missed my family and friends already. And suddenly all those aches and pains began to reappear and I felt worse than before.

It's fast getting to be whitewater rafting season and I can't wait to get my raft on the river.

Over the weekend I was up in Manchester visiting with two crusty old river guide friends, brothers Pete and Scott. Of the three of us, I have the least number of years in guiding raft trips, and I've been on the river since 1992. Pete goes back at least five years before that. And Scott, well, I think he's been river guiding since God made the rivers.

So that's pretty much all we talked about. Pete's definitely itching to get in more river time this season. And I'm getting very psyched for my first trip of the year over the long Memorial Day weekend, where I hope to run the Dead twice and get on the Kennebec once. Woo-hoo!

But Scott has us both beat. He's planning the ultimate river summer. Two weeks in the Grand Canyon on the Colorado River, a week on the San Juan River, and a week on the Green and Colorado Rivers, including a run through the madness of Cataract Canyon. Six weeks out West, running the big rivers, getting a very good tan and maybe enjoying a refreshing beverage or three along the way.

Damn! No jealously here. Nope, not me.

So, of course, Scott had to show us all the cool, new gear that he's getting ready for the big trip, including a mondo-sized, multi-colored umbrella that he's going to rig to the side of the row frame (it's going to be over 100 degrees out there every day, so it'll be a much appreciated accessory to help shade the guide and keep his beer cool).

But his most prized new toy for the big trip is something that only the most seasoned river grunt would ever think about...

...a hand-crank blender!

Yes, that's right, you heard me. Blender drinks (better known as "boat drinks" on the river) are an essential part of any long river trip, as you can imagine. And Scott has tried many different blender systems over the years powered by batteries and solar panels and the like. But nothing was truly satisfactory. Until the appearance of the hand-crank blender.

In fact, Scott wrote an absolutely terrific article for No Umbrella, a new Maine paddling and adventure publication, entitled "Blending In". Click through and read it and laugh your butt off. I did. It's great. And maybe then you'll understand the critical importance of the blender, the necessity for 'boat drinks' on the river, and why river guides are just plain nuts.

And we don't want it any other way!

See you "on the river"...

Can't wait to get back "on the river" this year...

Still the favorite food combo of this adventurer...

Ok, ready? 1, 2, 3... {Submit}

It's done! But ouch!

I just purchased my 2006 All For One ASC Ski Pass. It hurts the wallet right now but it had to be done. I wasn't going to wait for the May 7th deadline to come and go and take a chance that either the price would go up or the deal would disappear altogether.

No way, Jose.

I just got too much good skiing in this year for my $349. And I saw a few too many friends suffer high daily ticket prices because they didn't pony up for a pass in time.

So suffer a little credit card shock now, but be very happy later.

Say the folks at ASC: The All for One Pass continues to be the very best deal in Eastern skiing, and the all new 2005-06 pass is better than ever. If you buy your pass by May 7, you can again ski all season long at your choice of 6 of New England 's largest ski resorts, and there is NO PRICE INCREASE.

So get on it now if you're going to do it.

Well, I'll be! My friend Dan just reported seeing a mountain lion this Saturday near the Maine-NH border.

Dan said: "Yep. Today on Province Pond Trail in Chatham, N.H. He/she was crossing the trail about 5 minutes behind us just as we arrived at the car and changed our boots. I guess he/she weighed around 100 lbs., was about five or six feet long, brown with a long tail. Crossed the trail, then leaped over some small trees gracefully into the bushes."

There are reportedly as many as 100 mountain lions roaming around the wilds of Maine.

Have you ever seen one?

Saturday morning I dragged my sleepy butt out of bed early to take part in a beginner's bird walk at the Maine Audubon Society Gilsland Farm Center in Falmouth.

And I'm glad I did. I hadn't been out birding for sometime and was eager to go.

But before I could get out the door I had to rummage around in the gear room to find my bird book and binoculars, which I hadn't used since a most wonderful trip to Assateague Island in Maryland several years ago to watch the wild ponies and walk along the beaches and marshes with the shorebirds.

But I found my goods and made it to the walk on time.

Our trip leader, a naturalist named Judy, took a group of us on a wonderful two-hour walk through the fields and woods of the sanctuary, which was alive with the sound of birds. We stopped often to raise our binoculars and "ooh" and "ahh" at the sighting of the many beautiful birds we encountered.

Along the way, we got a few helpful tips on how to properly use our binoculars (sight your bird first, and without taking your eye off it, raise your binoculars up to your eyes and view. Voila!) And we got some interesting and useful tips on bird identification and the use of field guides.

Our bird checklist for the morning was pretty impressive I thought, and included the following (in layman's terms): barn swallow, tree swallow, tufted titmouse, goldfinch, chickadee, red-winged blackbird, osprey, downy woodpecker, song sparrow, white-throated sparrow, cardinal, ibis and cormorant. One bird I had never seen before was the blue-bearded vireo. And the big bonus of the walk: two big, beautiful bald eagles!

All in all, it was a fun and informative walk. I will no doubt join in more such programs and events and highly recommend them to anyone interested in birding.