Over coffee this morning I turned the final pages of Jack Kerouac's The Dharma Bums.

I left Ray Smith loving the freedom of life at his fire lookout atop Desolation Peak deep in the wilderness of Washington's Cascade Mountains.

It has been a most excellent journey, from Marin County to Mexico to the Sierras to the Cascades. With Japhy and Buddha and a host of crazy characters and wild happenings.

If you've got a hankering for a good adventure story, you'll enjoy this classic.

Oh, and...

Yabyum.

Tucked into a shelf upstairs at home is a rather disorganized collection of precious things I've collected over the years. Little trinkets, inspirational books, letters and postcards from friends and family, notebooks filled with thoughts I've scrawled, and scraps of paper with passages or poems that hold special meaning.

I keep them close by because they help keep me connected to events and people and places in this life, to things I will always cherish and remember. And when I look through them every now and again, they help to slow down the frantic pace of life for a few brief moments and give me some time to reflect on what's been, even as life rushes forward.

Rummaging through this pile of stuff the other day I came across one of my absolute favorites: Anna Quindlen's Commencement Address at Villanova University in 2000.

It's a simple recipe for how to live, for putting things in proper perspective, and recognizing what is truly important in this life. It's brilliant and moving and true and brings tears to my eyes every time. Read it yourself and see.

It's all very good, but the end of it just kills me...

Well, you can learn all those things, out there, if you get a life, a full life, a professional life, yes, but another life, too, a life of love and laughs and a connection to other human beings. Just keep your eyes and ears open. Here you could learn in the classroom. There the classroom is everywhere. The exam comes at the very end. No man ever said on his deathbed I wish I had spent more time at the office. I found one of my best teachers on the boardwalk at Coney Island maybe 15 years ago. It was December, and I was doing a story about how the homeless survive in the winter months.

He and I sat on the edge of the wooden supports, dangling our feet over the side, and he told me about his schedule; panhandling the boulevard when the summer crowds were gone, sleeping in a church when the temperature went below freezing, hiding from the police amidst the Tilt a Whirl and the Cyclone and some of the other seasonal rides. But he told me that most of the time he stayed on the boardwalk, facing the water, just the way we were sitting now even when it got cold and he had to wear his newspapers after he read them.

And I asked him why. Why didn't he go to one of the shelters? Why didn't he check himself into the hospital for detox? And he just stared out at the ocean and said, "Look at the view, young lady. Look at the view."

And every day, in some little way, I try to do what he said. I try to look at the view. And that's the last thing I have to tell you today, words of wisdom from a man with not a dime in his pocket, no place to go, nowhere to be. Look at the view. You'll never be disappointed.

It's a beautiful Friday with a nice looking weekend just ahead. I'm headed off to do some hiking, maybe you are too. Or paddling, biking, hanging out with family and friends, feet up with a good book, a barbeque, swimming at the lake.

Whatever it might be, enjoy! It's a pretty good life we've got, nowhere near perfect, with plenty of ups and downs, but pretty darn good over all. Something not to be taken for granted.

Despicable.

I'm sorry to say, but I figured this would happen soon enough.

The offices of Plum Creek Timber in Greenville were vandalized yesterday.
Computers were stolen and files rifled through.

Nice job folks. Very impressive.

It's a fine way to get your message across. It's working together allright. And it sure buys you big points with the local people.

Morons.

You want to oppose the Plum Creek project? Fine. Take a seat at the table and do so in a civilized manner.

But cretins like you don't get that concept.

If you're a fanatical lover of the black and white outdoor photography of Ansel Adams like I am, then you'll probably be very interested in the current exhibit at the University of Maine Museum of Art.

Ansel Adams: Celebration of Genius is showing there from July 15th through October 8th.

The museum, located in downtown Bangor, is only open until 5PM, so I'm probably going to have to scoot out early to get up there in time to check out the exhibit. But it'll be soooooo worth it.

Yosemite, Alaska, the Tetons, the Grand Canyon... nobody ever captured it on film like Ansel Adams.

Can't wait to see his photos again. You gotta go!

As of 4:30 PM yesterday afternoon, 41 readers had commented on the article on the heated environmental battle against the proposed Plum Creek project up at Moosehead.

I counted 21 pro, 18 against, and 2 not sure.

Pretty evenly split.

And some damn good comments. I certainly learned a thing or two.

Hope you had a chance to read through them and add your voice, pro or con. Everyone's opinion matters.

I'm not sure just what got into me yesterday afternoon, but I decided to Google for "stupid hiking tricks" just for yucks to see what might pop up. Like maybe something stupid I've done out in the woods. Or Dan. Or John. Or any of a few other MOAC friends I know that have survived their share of stupid moments outside and lived (barely) to tell about it.

Disappointingly, not much showed up in the search, except for an entry in Laurabelle's Blog describing a weekend hike that she and a friend took in Olympic National Park in Washington. Part way through the hike she had a moment of inattention and took a digger off a high mountain pass, flew down a talus slope, and suffered minor injuries. Her friend and another group of hikers finally pulled her to safety.

It's an interesting story with some nice photos of hiking in the Olympics. Worth checking out.

Any of you want to share a tale or two of your not-so-bright hiking antics over the years? I'll bet you've got some good ones. I will if you will. Let's hear 'em...

I've been all over the Portland area looking for one.

Eastern Mountain Sports, Maine Mountain Works, L.L. Bean.

No luck.

Seems nobody carries the Platypus hydration system anymore.

Plenty of Camelback stuff, but no Platypus.

What gives?

I've used a Platypus for hiking and backpacking for about eight years now and love it. It's simple, inexpensive, and, until now, the bladders were easily replaced. I can usually patch the occasional pinhole, but my current Platypus has developed a leak at the seam between the screw cap top and the bladder, so it's time to go.

I'd like to buy a new one locally, as opposed to online. Anybody know where I can get one?

Plum Creek. Moosehead Lake. Development. Wilderness. Conservation. Jobs. Money.

All are part of the battle that is shaping up in Maine's North Woods, with Greenville at the epicenter.

And yesterday, environmental groups turned up the heat on the issue a few notches by vowing to block the plan using a variety of means.

Check out the great reader comments, both for and against the Plum Creek plan, and please, please add yours.

By the way, there's an excellent map on page A12 of today's Portland Press Herald that provides some visual perspective on the project.

I just love a good case of hysteria.

Especially when it involves Jonathan Carter, who is now out of mothballs and shaking his finger at Plum Creek, citing doom and gloom for the environment, for mankind, for Mother Earth herself, should their Moosehead Lake development plan get the nod from LURC.

Yep, the sky is falling. Again.

Thank goodness Carter and his ilk are here to warn us. And possibly press upon us another silly and costly statewide referendum.

Zzzzzzz.

Hey Jon, you interested in a nice woodsy camp lot? They're gonna go fast up there you know...

Maine mountain bikers will have a great opportunity to learn all about trail building this weekend at the International Mountain Bicycling Association Trailbuilding School in Rangeley.

IMBA will be training local volunteers like you and me as well as land managers on how to construct sustainable singletrack trails for riding. The two-day school will include a classroom session followed by a field skills workshop.

Participants will have a chance to do some "digging in the dirt" and help build real trail at the Rangeley Region Trails Center. And get to do some great riding too!

For more details on registration, directions, what to bring and where to stay, contact: John Field at Seasonal Cycles in Rangeley at jfield@megalink.net or 864-2100.

The good folks at the Penobscot Paddle and Chowder Society, a statewide group of canoe and kayak enthusiasts, is holding its 3rd Annual Taylor Pelotte Surfathon this Saturday on the Dead River to benefit the Maine Children's Cancer Program.

In the last two years the Surfathon has raised more than $32,000 for Maine charities that help out children with life-threatening diseases, including the Make-A-Wish Foundation and Camp Sunshine.

So come paddle along with the PPCS for a very good cause, and have some good fun too!

Contact the PPCS for more Surfathon information and pledge materials.

Why is it that I always seem to have an awful lot of fun whenever I'm wearing my Tevas?

You too, you say?

Hmmm. We could be on to something here.

Maybe I should wear them to work more often...

This was another Teva weekend for sure.

A raftload of college kids--my awesome nice Jackie and her great friends--plenty of hot sun, perfect river temps, good rides on the waves and fun hits in the holes, a lazy float down the lower river, and generally just a damn nice Saturday on the Kennebec.

Just what the doctor ordered...

Da croo!

Hoisting the pirate flag.

A busy day on the Kennebec.

While my crew enjoys a refreshing swim...

... the guide enjoys a cold one tossed on board by a passing raft. Who's gonna say no to that?!

Riverside flora.

Osprey and nest on the lower river.

After the take-out, gathering up the gear, and breaking down camp, my crew decided they just couldn't leave The Forks without taking the big 30-foot plunge off the pedestrian bridge on Route 201 over the Kennebec River. It just seemed like the thing to do, and a very popular thing at that.

The bridge is the place to be, and jump!

Dangling feet, waiting to make the leap.

Dave and Will make the jump.

Pete and my niece Jackie take the plunge!

Splash!

Saturday night after the gang left for home I had Webb's Campground to myself for the afternoon and reveled in the quiet, sitting comfy in my camp chair on the shore of the Dead River, reading about Jack Kerouac's adventures with Zen in the mountains of California, and tilting a nicely chilled Corona with lime.

Ahhh.

Watch out for this man! He may be armed with a paddle and beer money and has been known to have too much fun!

Visions of a perfectly cooked green chili burrito with beef finally motivated me to head down the road a piece to The Marshall, but to my serious disappointment, they were out of green chili sauce.

Bummer.

But I was assured that the cook will be stirring up an extra large batch that will be ready for next weekend, when I and a dozen or so MOAC paddlers will ravenously descend on the place bent on a green chili burrito fix. They'd better come through!

Seeking a new chow plan, The Boatman's Grill at Three Rivers was the next stop. A Shipyard and a sirloin steak would have to fit the bill.

I slunk back into camp fat and happy and sat by a roaring fire content to do absolutely nothing until sundown, when my tent and sleeping bag called.

I promised myself I'd do a paddle on Sunday morning, maybe down Moxie Pond aways. Didn't happen. Instead, I chose to sleep in, then relax with coffee and book, before heading south for some biscuits and gravy at Thompson's in Bingham.

Mist on the Dead River Sunday morning.

Hey, sometimes even river guides got to take it easy...

Technology marches inexorably on. But there are limits, thank goodness. And for one of my favorite items of technology, I know right where one of its limits is.

A few miles north of Bingham on Route 201.

You see, I'm headed up to the river in a few hours. To The Forks for my favorite campsite at Webb's on the Dead River. For a cold one and some pool at the Marshall Hotel tonight. For a wild rafting trip tomorrow, guiding my niece and a group of her college friends down the Kennebec. Maybe a quiet solo paddle out on Wyman Lake or Moxie Pond on Sunday. Just me and the bald eagles.

But I digress...

Somewhere north of Bingham, my cell phone will once again sputter out one last gasp of a beep and then announce on its little screen: NO SERVICE.

Ahhh. What a damn shame.

I'll turn if off. Break out a smile and relax into the seat. I'm on the river. And I don't have to give a crap about whatever's happening south of here. For a few precious days anyway.

That's the river. An alternative universe for a river guide like me. What happens on the river, stays on the river, and all that kind of thing.

So I'm gone soon. Don't try to call, 'cause I won't be on the other end. I'll be "on the river." And loving it...

Former Portland Mainer, MOACer and house mate of mine, Karl, sent along a few pics from his latest exploits in the Colorado Rockies, where he's been living and playing since 1998.

Karl holds down a good job as an engineer in Denver, but I know it's just a front. A top snowboard instructor at Breckenridge and a certified wildman, he's more likely to be found on the slopes or on the trail somewhere above Breck, than behind his desk.

I very nearly moved to Denver myself last year, so these images stir up a few mixed feelings. But I'm happy I stayed put in the great state of Maine, home like nowhere else.

I would like to get out to the Rockies more often though, because the hiking is outstanding. I spent three weeks out there a few years back, traipsing around through the high country along the Continental Divide in Rocky Mountain National Park and climbing in Eldorado Canyon. Wild! Got to do more of that.

And, of course, the Colorado skiing is outrageous, but I can only say that second hand. That has to change sometime soon.

In the meantime, I'll think I'll just hum some John Denver tunes...

Photo by Karl Kluge
Mt. Guyot, a 13,000 footer in the Colorado Rockies near Breckinridge.

Photo by Jill Kluge
My friend and former Mainer Karl on Mt. Guyot.

Photo by Jill Kluge
Karl mugging it up as the weather closes in on a high ridge in the Rockies.

Photo by Karl Kluge
The typical afternoon thunderstorm moving in over the Rockies.

I'm sure most of you have seen "the rock" along side of Route 157 between Millinocket and Baxter State Park.

Even though I've been by it hundreds of times over the years, I still can't resist wanting to stop and take another photo of it.

I guess it has always been a signal that, yes, you're really here again. In the big north woods of Maine. And mighty Katahdin is just around the bend.

Slow down. Relax. Unwind. Breathe in.

You're here again. Home.

A log cabin in the woods, a beautiful pond out front, big mountains everywhere you look, trails leading off in every direction. A good group of people, tons of food, and coolers full of cold beverages. And three glorious days to enjoy it all.

Yep. That's the painful experience I had to endure last weekend at Kidney Pond in Baxter State Park.

It was hard, very hard, but I managed.

Days we spent off hiking. Some to the heights of Katahdin and Hamlin Peak and Knife Edge, some to the surrounding ponds and streams and waterfalls. Some to North Brother, others up Doubletop.

It was fantastic weather for mountain and woods walking: clear blue skies and warm temps. The mosquitoes and flies liked it too, but no matter.

Evenings... On the porch of the cabin with appetizers and cold ones in hand, talking about our hikes and laughing it up. A refreshing and cleansing swim in the pond. A delightful paddle in canoe or kayak with the magnificence of Katahdin reflecting on the calm water. Scrumptious dinners of burgers and chicken and chili.

I'd never stayed at Kidney Pond as a guest, only as a member of a trail crew, so this was a real treat. There surely was no real work to be done on this trip. Other than getting in lots of great hiking and paddling, turning lots of pages of a good book, sitting about on the porch and doing not much of anything, and making sure I got to the bottom of my cooler and not letting any of those beers go bad.

It was all too much fun and the weekend flew by. I hope to be back up there real soon...

Kidney Pond Camps, Baxter. Squaw's Bosom and Doubletop Mountain in the background.

Cabin on Kidney Pond, Baxter.

The gang hanging out on the porch at Happy Hour.

Late afternoon on Katahdin from Kidney Pond.

Evening glow on Katahdin from the canoe on Kidney Pond.

Sunset over Kidney Pond. Sentinel Mountain is to the right.

A friendly campground visitor.

Nancy chatting with Bill, who has been visiting Baxter for 80 years!

Logging some time on the AT.

Doubletop from the outlet of Tracy Pond.

The old Toll Dam on Nesowadnehunk Stream. Mt. OJI in the distance.

On the spruce-scented trail to Grassy Pond.

The good folks at Maine Mountain Works in Portland--that would be Todd, Kelly, Erica, Matt, Eric, David and Lovely Lindsey--have just put the word out that everything in the store (excluding consignment stuff) is 15-50% off from Thursday thru Sunday.

Jeez, that's like throwing raw meat to a dog. Or, more appropriately at this time of year, like throwing a sweaty hiker into a thick cloud of black flies.

Hmmm. I must need something.

Wonder which credit card I haven't maxed out yet...

It's been kind of a slow summer for mountain biking for me. A few rides here and there, but not like usual.

I have been getting out doing other things during the week, though, like walks, hikes, kayaks and more than a few rounds of golf.

All good.

But I finally did get to do my favorite mountain bike ride one evening last week: The Presumpscot River Ride in Falmouth.

It's several miles of wonderful riding along the river, with miles of side trails winding up and down the hill above its south bank.

Enough great single track, whoop-dees and technical stuff to keep you busy for a few hours.

Until pizza and beer time...

The Presumpscot River, Falmouth.

Great single track riding along the Presumpscot.

Watch out for the poison ivy!

With the bike loaded up, it's time for pizza and beer at Samuel's.

I picked up some lightweight hiking shoes last week at the Sportshoe Center in Scarborough. A pair of Adidas Kumasi Low Gore-Tex.

My old Salomon's have long since given up the ghost, so the purchase was overdue, but I couldn't quite find want I wanted. Until now.

I gave the new shoes a good workout last weekend in Baxter Park on a couple of day hikes. A 10-mile circuit one day that took in 5 ponds and 3 waterfalls with awesome views of Doubletop Mtn. and Mt. OJI and Katahdin. And the next day, a stiff 10-mile round-trip climb of Doubletop, in my opinion, the most strikingly beautiful mountain in Maine.

The skinny?

The shoes held up very well over a variety of terrain. Comfy over a long day, good support, a reasonable grip on slippery rocks and roots, and excellent waterproof-ness.

Can't complain at all. I'm pleased. So much so that I think I might wear them on a planned hut-to-hut trek in Europe later this year.

They're certainly a nice alternative to my heavier leather boots (which I love too) when carrying a day pack or a light weekend load on the back.

My new Adidas lightweight hiking shoes.

Katahdin from Grassy Pond, Baxter Park.

Doubletop Mtn. from Deer Pond, Baxter Park.

Post-hike, my feet in Waldies, in a canoe on Kidney Pond, Baxter Park. Hey, how did that beer get in the picture?

I was just looking for my lost ring.

Right.

I believe that.

You know, I was up in Baxter Park this past weekend, and, it being nature's way and all, made frequent use of the pit toilet at the campground.

After this story, you might think that we'd all be a bit leery about lifting the lid and finding a face down there.

But not me.

I figured, what the hell, after all the chili and beer I just consumed, if you're down there dude, God help you!

Hiking just south of Daicey Pond on the Appalachian Trail in Baxter State Park last Friday afternoon, I ran into a thru-hiker on his next-to-least day on the AT.

His trail name was T-Rex and he'd started his long journey north from Georgia in late February. He looked in pretty good shape and fine spirits for all the wear and tear the hike puts on a person's body.

We chatted for a few moments, but you could just tell his feet were anxious to get on with it and his head and heart were aching to meet up family and friends just a few miles ahead at Katahdin Stream.

T-Rex hoped to summit Katahdin the next day and complete his 2,150 mile odyssey. We wished him a good climb and good weather and watched him turn and disappear up the trail.

T-Rex did indeed finish the AT on Saturday, a beautifully clear July day. Congrats, my good man. Congrats!

Here's his simple but moving journal entry from his final day on the trail...

Katahdin and the end of the AT from Daicey Pond, Baxter State Park.

Funny, but I too, after a long weekend in Baxter, ask the same question T-Rex: Why are there so many blood sucking insects in the world?

The fine upstanding folks (that would be Jeff, Deborah and even Pete) at the BCM (that's the Bicycle Coalition of Maine for anybody who may be from away) would like you to know that there's another Tour de Trails ride this Saturday.

This one's on the Androscoggin River Trails in Turner.

Here's da scoop from the BCM:

This ride is a great opportunity to try mountain biking for the first time or come along for a challenging 15-mile intermediate loop. This popular multi-use trail includes everything from dirt roads to double and single track ~ something for mountain bikers of all levels. Meet at parking lot on Center Bridge Road in Turner at 10:00 a.m.

Directions from Augusta: Take Route 202 South to Greene. Take right onto Allen Pond Road (flashing light) and follow till you come to the Androscoggin River. Cross the large metal Bridge. Parking will be less than ½ mile on the left after boat launch and inlet.

Directions from Auburn, Livermore etc: Take Route 4 north or south to Turner. Take Route 117 at flashing light into Turner center. Follow to stop sign (shcreps store on the corner) Go straight onto Center Bridge Road. Parking is a couple of miles up road on Right.

Sounds like a wicked good time. Join 'em and have some fun!

Yee-hah!

I'm off later this afternoon for a few days in Baxter State Park with friends.

Somebody's gotta do it. And I'm feeling quite up for the task.

A cozy log cabin on the shore of Kidney Pond. Hiking, kayaking, swimming, reading, lounging, mulling about. A lot of something and a lot of nothing. All amid the magnificence of Mount Katahdin and the Baxter wilderness.

Camping gear? Check.

Bug dope? Check.

Cooler? Check.

Teef? Check.

OK then.

Time to load 'em up and move on out. I'm headin' to the North Woods...

You are?

Then you'll probably want to get in on the Maine Mountain Bike Association's 16th Annual Maine Sport RunOff Mountain Bike Race this Sunday at Camden Snow Bowl.

According to MMBA, the race is "Maine's oldest mountain bike race consisting of a classic four-mile race loop. The course is a challenging mix of Maine terrain that includes rolling bluff single-track, a few mud pits, meandering old logging roads, breathtaking ski trail climbs, greasy descents, and rocky rooty goat path."

Hey, anything that says mud, breathtaking, greasy, rocky and rooty just has to be fun!

You in?

Cruising back home along some backwater Vermont highway after a hiking trip last week, I passed a sign that said FREE on it.

Now, I'd like to tell you that it said FREE BEER, and that I spent the rest of the afternoon chewing the fat and drinking some Vermont farmer's gratis brew, but I can't.

The sign actually said FREE BOOKS.

And that's damn near as good.

So I whipped the Honda around (carefully, of course, strictly adhering to the Vermont Motor Vehicle Laws) and swung into the dooryard.

And proceeded to poke through the boxes.

Score!

I came up with an armful of good reading of an outdoor nature...

The Sea Around Us by Rachel Carson. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. Wise and Witty Sayings by Will Rogers. Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad.

And my favorite: Your Own Book of Campcraft by Catherine Hammett.

And so the stack of stuff to read grows and grows. I need about a year off in a cabin in the woods somewhere to plow through it all. Just me (well not just me) and the books. And some free beer.

In the meantime I'm working my way through Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac, and having a hoot of a time adventuring with Japhy, Ray, Morley and Alvah...

What are you reading?

Hike to the summit of all of the New England Hundred Highest mountains and you'll have covered an awful lot of ground, both on the trail and off. I'm trying, but it sure does take awhile. Years in fact.

But that's OK. I've got time (I hope).

A friend and I ventured over to the Green Mountain State over the 4th holiday weekend and knocked off another couple of peaks there: Mendon Peak and Mount Equinox.

Mendon has no trails on it, so bushwhacking with map and compass was the order of the day. Mount Equinox has a long and winding trail to its summit, where it meets the auto road coming up from the other side. The two peaks couldn't have provided more contrast to the very enjoyable weekend of hiking.

The two peaks represented #87 and #88 on "the list" for me, so I'm getting there. Slowly.

But I've still got a good amount of work ahead of me. In Maine, I've got East Kennebago, Elephant, North Peak of Kennebago Divide, Snow (Chain of Ponds), Snow (Little Kennebago Lake), and Redington (recently added to the Maine 4000 footer list). In New Hampshire, there's Scar Ridge, East Sleeper, Vose Spur, and North and South Weeks. And I have two left in Vermont now: Big Jay and Dorset Peak.

I'd like to think that I'll make a concerted effort to finish them all this year but...

Anyway, to Mendon. It's just south of Killington and the AT, near Rutland.

Thanks to info from the AMC Four Thousand Footer Club, some Google searches, and some beta from a friend in N.H. (thanks Ray!), we had a pretty straight forward climb of the trailless Mendon.

We followed old logging roads as high on the mountain as they went. Where the roads petered out we were still a good 1,300 feet below the top. Out came the map, and the compass, which I set to a bearing of 161 degrees. And, with a deep breath and some good thoughts for luck, off we went. Crashing through the thick brush, over rocks and roots and blowdowns, ever checking the compass bearing and looking back for landmarks.

In just about a half hour we emerged onto a herd path on the summit ridge, turned instinctively to the right, and in 50 feet, were on the top. Or what we thought was the top, since we couldn't locate the white register canister that adorns the summit of all trailless NE 100 highest peaks.

Uh oh.

So we backtracked on the herd path and made our way over to the other peak.

No register there either. Back we went.

It was going to be an awful shame to get all the way up here and not be "official" because we couldn't find the register.

We followed a few faint paths around where we'd been earlier.

And it there was, well hidden in the brush behind some trees, not fifteen feet from where we'd been a half hour before!

Whew!

We signed in, had some chow and rested up for a bit.

On the way down we reversed the compass heading and hoped we could intersect our high point on the old logging road. We came close, I know it, but missed it anyway. And were forced to bushwhack all the way down the mountain through some pretty nasty stuff.

It was tiring going. Even more so when you're not entirely sure where you are.

But I long ago learned to trust the compass reading and my gut feeling. We were on the right track, it was just going to take awhile. And it did. But dammit if we didn't break out of the woods right onto the major woods road at our secondary point of reference.

We damn near danced the 15 minutes back to the car!

Success!

The following day we hopped in the car and drove south to Manchester Center, stopping in to get some info on Mount Equinox from the local outfitter, The Mountain Goat.

With a trail to follow, this was an easier day, but not by much. The 2,900 feet of elevation gain over the course of the 2.7 mile Blue Summit Trail was no slacker of a climb. The trail rose at steady, unrelenting grade that wore my legs out.

We made the top in just over 1 1/2 hours anyway. Unfortunately we had to share it with a parking lot full of cars that had driven up the auto road. But we met some friendly folks and enjoyed a good rest on the porch of the old hotel there.

We got a tip from some hikers on the way down that maps of the Equinox Preserve were available in the village at the rather swanky Mount Equinox Hotel. We had, of course, made the trip up with no map. So we stopped by the hotel on the way home to pick up a souvenir map.

I got quite a kick out if the experience.

As soon as my dust covered Honda pulled in front of the hotel, we were rushed by a bevy of bellmen. I had barely gotten out of the car when I was approached and asked, rather suspiciously, what I needed. (Surely they knew this dirty smelly hiker couldn't possibly afford a room here!). The man then radioed inside to security and a trail map was brought out to me. I was escorted back to my car, and with a look that surely could have killed (but no words), I was asked to please drive away.

And so we did.

Approaching Mendon Peak, a trailless mountain in Vermont on the New England Hundred Highest List.

Checking the map to be sure we're on track.

Negotiating the thick brush on the upper reaches of the peak.

On the thickly wooded summit with no register canister in sight.

Ahah! The register canister well hidden just steps from the summit.

More pleasant bushwhacking on the descent.

Playing tourist on top of Mount Equinox, another of the NE 100 Highest in Vermont.

The view from Equinox north to Dorset Peak.

Butterfly on the trail up Equinox.

Wildflowers just below summit of Equinox.

Cooling down post-hike with a Stewart's Root Beer. Whoa! Who are you and what have you done with...

Post-hike swimming in the cold water of the old Dorset marble quarry.

Outside magazine showed up in my mailbox yesterday.

And there we were, good old Portland Maine, featured on page 100 as one of America's Dream Towns.

Portland was recognized for its brewpubs (really?), extensive paths and greenways, high percentage of restaurants per capita, high number of kayaks observed strapped to the top of cars, and our primo access to a wide spectrum of recreational activities.

It's all true, and I feel damn fortunate to live here with so many of life's good things at our fingertips.

I gotta ask, though. Do you realtors get a cut from this?

But the kudos for Portland don't end there.

National Geographic Adventure magazine--my favorite mag in the world--also arrived yesterday.

And who do you think the editors named "Adventure Town" this month?

You guessed it... Portland!

For its many opportunities for biking, hiking, sailing and paddling. No question.

And, of course, lighthouses, blueberries, music and lobster rolls. Ain't that quaint.

In fact, the magazine recommends to potential visitors to "wrap up your day's coastal adventures like a true-blue Mainer: Eat seafood from a plastic basket at a picnic table right on the rocky shore."

Really?

OK, you do that dee-yah. Ayuh!

Meanwhile I'll be down at Gritty's with my pint of pale ale...

Duct tape. The quintessential emergency item.

No self-respecting outdoors person would venture into the woods or onto the water without it.

No doubt you've used it to prevent blisters, wrap a sprained ankle, mend a ripped tent wall, tape a boot sole back on, silence the snoring of your tent mate...

But I ask you, intrepid wilderness veterans, have you ever thought to use duct tape as a belly remover, Preparation DT, a defibrillator (yes!), to prevent frostbite, as dental floss, for colostomy repair, budget dog repair and a hundred and one other creative uses.

As Kristen of N.Y. says, "Duct tape is the cure-all. Viva la duct tape!"

Indeed.

Forget work today and amuse yourself for the next few hours with The Duct Tape Guys.

Duct tape and teef. Two of the best inventions ever!

What ingenious things have you used duct tape for? (Keep it clean!)

Thanks Nancy for sharing the link!

Tomorrow evening's Greater Portland Naturalists Forum at Maine Audubon in Falmouth will feature filmmaker Daniel Breton and his stories, photographs and film clips from his latest film Fish Out of Water, on the lives of Maine coast puffins, and Arctic and common terns.

It'll no doubt be another interesting and informative program for sure.

Last month's forum illustrated the threatened status of the New England Cottontail rabbit, which lives only in Maine. Different from the Eastern Cottontail and the Appalachian Cottontail, the New England Cottontail is in serious decline and is being considered for endangered species protection.

Why the decline?

Turns out that the NE Cottontail has smaller eyes than its cousins, so it can't see very well. It likes brushy habitat, and tends not to venture more than 5 meters or so out of the security of the thick cover. But when it does it quickly becomes prey.

And since the NE Cottontail's desired habitat is also in fast decline due to urban sprawl, more highways, and parking lots--open areas that aren't friendly for the rabbit--there's a real problem with regard to its future survival.

Audubon and Maine DIFW scientists are studying the problem and possible solutions, one of which is to preserve more large areas of brushy habitat (25 acres or more) before they've all disappeared.

It's estimated that there are 250 NE Cottontail rabbits left.

These naturalists forums are terrific and I urge anyone interested to check them out, as well as the many other wonderful programs and events going on.

Taking a year off between between high school and college is one of the best things a teen can do. To travel, see the country, see the world, hike some long trail, volunteer for community service, get involved in a humanitarian project. To have an adventure, meet different people, learn a few things that can only come from exposing yourself to what's out there, away from home. I don't know why more American kids don't do it.

Life gets busy and complicated much too quickly. Nine-to-five jobs, student loans, car payments, house payments, credit card debt. So if you don't seize the opportunity at this critical time, it can be years before the chance comes around again. Make a plan, then do it.

One of the best things I ever did was to take some time off between Bangor High School and the University of Maine. I spent the better part of six months hiking the Appalachian Trail. And when I returned home I spent even more time hiking and climbing and carousing around Maine. That was good for a year.

I probably didn't need the second year off, however. Because I inevitably got into the usual trouble that often plagues teenagers with too much time on their hands (no, you don't need to know!).

But the upside to that was, when it finally came time to go to college, I was soooooooooooo ready for it! And with a couple of years of travel and outdoors stuff under my belt, as well as some time spent slinging burgers for minimum wage, I knew college was the right direction.

And just look at how well I turned out!

Did you do anything fun and interesting between high school and college?

I suspect there are a few stretches of highway in Maine dubbed "Moose Alley." But the one I'm most familiar with is Route 201 from Bingham to Jackman, where the moose population seems as thick as the black flies.

I don't know the stats, but I can tell you from personal experience cruising up there countless trips for rafting or kayaking, it's a pretty scary road to drive sometimes, most especially at night, when the big animals are nearly impossible to see until you are right on top of them... or they're on top of you!

A particularly bad section is the couple of miles between Northern Outdoors and Three Rivers Whitewater in The Forks.

And that's where an out-of-state couple had a serious run-in with a moose on Saturday night. It would appear that their car was totaled in the accident but the two survived with only minor injuries. Lucky them.

And as often happens, the moose fled the scene, a scenario I've witnessed a number of times. I just don't know how a moose can do that, but they do.

I'll never forget arriving first on the scene of a horrific looking accident on I-95 in Gardiner one summer day while returning home from Baxter Park. A family in a minivan struck a moose, flipped end over end, ejecting everybody. The minivan was flattened to the height of about four feet. Incredibly, no one was seriously injured. But the moose was crumpled in the middle of the highway, apparently dead.

So while my friend, an EMT, attended to medical needs of the family, I directed traffic around the moose until emergency help could arrive. But I surely wasn't prepared for what happened next.

As I stood there waving cars by, I watched in stunned amazement as the moose slowly stood up, shook itself off, and sauntered into the woods!

I couldn't believe it. But I've seen it happen several times since.

Moose collisions are scary. And ugly. And very often deadly.

That's why I make it a point not to travel in known heavy moose corridors at night if I can at all avoid it. Like Route 201. I feel much better getting to camp early, in the daylight, while I can still see the mooses.

Have you had any close calls with moose on the road?

Stage 7 of the Tour de France is now in the history books. And our Lance Armstrong is still in the lead by 55 seconds.

I do believe that earns him the yellow jersey for tomorrow's leg. You look good in yellow, Lance. Keep it going!

It's no wonder at all sometimes why many of us want to escape to the woods so often, is it?

My heart goes out to the British people on this sad day.

It may be just after noon here in Maine, but as Jimmy Buffett and Alan Jackson say...

"It's five o'clock somewhere!"

Yep. Time to start the weekend soon. Get outside. Have some fun.

Looks like a good chance of rain tomorrow, but a nicer day on Sunday.

Works for me. Got to help move a friend tomorrow, but I'll get a good hike in the next day.

What are you doing?

You remember the outhouse stalker along the Kanc Highway in the White Mountain National Forest from last week, don't you?

He's the fellow who "was found June 26 in the waste tank of a pit toilet on U.S. Forest Service property in Albany, N.H., after a 14-year-old girl heard a noise in the toilet and saw a face looking up at her".

Well, apparently he's in even bigger trouble for violating his parole, on top of the other charges he faces for the pooper-peeking incident.

I'd say you're gonna be up to your knees in doo-doo for this one, pal.

Oh wait... you've already been there!

Any weekend that I can head out of town with a carload of hiking gear, golf clubs, kayak and mountain bike just has to be a good one.

The car loaded to the gills and ready for any and all adventures...

And so it was a week ago when I traveled north to Branch Lake in Ellsworth for the annual summer gathering of my old college friends from the University of Maine (with at least one other Bangor High grad thrown in for good measure).

We call this event "Big Deck" and have been having fun with it for 15 years. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Why "Big Deck"?

Well, because we're not that creative I guess. The first year we held the event it was at a cottage with a 'big deck' overlooking Southwest Harbor. And so it stuck. Even after we moved the gathering to Kathy's camp on Branch Lake--which has a smaller deck-- the next year (and every year thereafter). But we certainly weren't going to rename the event "Small Deck"!

My friend Kathy's camp (with deck) on Branch Lake, a small corner of paradise.

The Big Deck gang relaxes at lakeside.

Besides, Big Deck follows suit with the other traditional events my warped college friends and I are so fond of. Like Big Chill, the original, and our annual winter adventure to northern New Hampshire with skiing at Burke Mountain in Vermont. Then there's Big Game, another name for UMaine Homecoming each fall. And Big Fart (an event replaced by Reggae Weekend), our spring skiing weekend at the Loaf, named for Ben's infamous gas-inducing mystery meat casserole.

Back to Big Deck...

I started off the long weekend with a sweet solo hike up Mansell and Bernard Mountains on the western side of Mount Desert Island. Cool forest of spruce and fir, nice views of the ocean and the east side of Acadia, and not another soul around. I like that.

View of Southwest Harbor from Mansell Peak, Acadia National Park.

Lupines along Route 102A, Southwest Harbor.

Then it was up to the lake to meet up with the gang and have some serious fun. And we did. For two very full days.

We made multiple forays up and down the lake in kayaks, played a round of bad golf, waterskiied, swam, mountain biked, laughed and laughed, ate and ate and ate, watched bald eagles and great blue herons sweep by, lounged in the sun, admired the spectacular sunsets, lazed by the fire, and fell asleep to the sound of loons wailing on the water.

Taking a break from paddling on Branch Lake.

Paddling under the setting sun on Branch Lake.

It's an idyllic place, and with a great group of friends, you don't ever want to leave. In fact, part of me is still there now...

I saw this sign last weekend in the entryway of the Inn at Long Trail, a popular stopover for Appalachian Trail and Long Trail hikers at Sherburne Pass in Vermont.

It reminded me of a sad conversation I had with the owners of a popular AT hiker hostel in Maine this winter. Much to their dismay, after more than 20 years of providing overnight accomodations for hikers, they'd finally had enough. Enough of the rude and thoughtless few who've ruined it for the rest. The ones who think you owe them something because they're a "thru-hiker." The ones who skip out without paying. Or get loud or drunk or both and cause a host of problems.

That's a shame.

But I've heard it more and more in the last few years. As the AT experience has become more popular and use has skyrocketed, thru-hikers are often unwelcome in certain places because of increasing incidences of bad behavior. It's a common problem up and down the trail.

Let's be clear: The vast majority of thru-hikers are good folks who mind their manners. But the damage done by a few has been enough to cause some alarm in the trail community that many hiker services will be lost and local support for the trail will decline further. And a long distance trail system can't survive in such an environment.

So the good folks at ALDHA, the Appalachian Long Distance Hikers Association, started something awhile back called the Endangered Services Campaign in an attempt to re-establish goodwill between the hiking community and the local folks along the AT. And the "Hike in Harmony" message is the latest iteration in the PR effort.

I'm not sure how well it's working, but maybe as the AT hiking season progresses I can gather up some feedback and let you know.

In the meantime we hikers should remember that not only are we guests out in the wilderness, but guests in the towns we walk through along the way. All are deserving of our care and respect. It'll come back to us ten-fold.

Outside magazine has again named Portland, Maine as one of its top 10 picks for American "dream towns". Yep, we're right up there with Salt Lake City, Chicago, Fort Collins, Charleston, Madison, Pasadena, Davis, Calif., Littleton, N.H., and the other Portland. Not bad company.

Outside "ranked American cities and towns on criteria including commitment to open space, community spirit, healthy job markets, environmental friendliness and opportunities for recreation."

I'm not so sure on the healthy job market thing, but I can pretty much go along with the rest of them for the Portland area.

It is certainly beautiful here, and the access to all types of recreational opportunities is amazing. It's been home to me for 18 years now, and I think I might just hang around for a few more years, whether or not Outside thinks we're cool.

Read all about it in the upcoming issue, due out next week. But first read the primer on the article and the many very interesting comments. Then add yours!

The place to be for all bicycle enthusiasts this coming weekend is the Maine Bike Rally in Belfast.

According to Pete at the Bicycle Coalition of Maine, the rally will feature "nearly 40 different rides of all types, abilities and lengths and it is also a very family-friendly event so those of you with kids.... Come for the rides, the demos, the booths, the camaraderie or the food... Or, come to simply support the work of the Bicycle Coalition of Maine."

Sounds like a wicked good time! Are you planning on going?

Don't forget about the BCM's next fun time, the Lobster Ride in Rockland a couple of weeks.

When the White Mountain National Forest implemented the Recreation Fee Demonstration Program back in 1996 I wasn't too thrilled.

Forking out additional cash for a trailhead parking sticker on top of the tax dollars I pay to the feds every year didn't seem to make sense. But I did, albeit grudgingly at first.

And now, nine years later, I've gotten used to the idea. And so have you I suspect. It's no biggie anymore.

But when I heard rumors recently that some changes were afoot to the parking program this year, I got curious. I found info on changes in the New Hampshire portion of the WMNF, but nothing specific about the Maine side.

So I talked with Tom Moore, the Recreation Enhancement Act Program Manager at the White Mountain National Forest office in Gorham, NH, who gave me the scoop on Maine.

Here's what I learned:

The Federal Lands Recreation Enhancement Act has replaced the old Recreation Fee Demo Program. The REA gives the US Forest Service a 10-year authority to collect fees, so it's a little more "permanent" (and therefore stable) if you will. It also simplifies the fee program and more clearly defines how fees are collected and distributed.

Bottom line for WMNF users here in Maine: No changes to the parking fees. All trailhead parking along the Route 113 corridor will remain fee sites, as well as Crocker Pond and Deer Hill.

Interestingly, Moore told me that the WMNF collects $650,000 annually in parking fees and some $4.8 million over the last 8 years. And an amazing 95% of these fees have been pumped right back into the WMNF for such essentials as facility improvements, visitor services, seasonal staff, wilderness patrols, Leave No Trace programs, amphitheater programs, and interpretive work.

So the lion's share of the fee money stays local to help fund local needs. Good job!

That's not a bad deal at all for my $20 (and yours!).

Imagine that... A user fee I can actually live with! Has hell frozen over?

Don't have your White Mountain Parking Pass? Here's the price list and vendor list. You can also pick one up at any WMNF office.

Camden is probably best known for its pretty harbor, downtown shops and restaurants, the quiet trails and comfy campsites of the picturesque Camden Hills that rise just above town, and the tourist traffic along Route 1 that bunches up pretty good this time of year.

Take Route 52 west out of town toward Lake Megunticook, though, and you can leave a good part of the summer hustle behind. And a couple miles down the road, just after cresting a road cut, you'll find one of the best little rock climbing cliffs in the state at Barrett's Cove.

Just like the Portland Press Herald's Deirdre Fleming did. Climb on Dierdre!

I don't rock climb much anymore, but when I did, Barrett's Cove Cliff was my favorite getaway. Scenic and uncrowded, the cliff offers a host of sweet climbing routes from easy beginner to scary hard (that's not an official rating, just my own "sweaty palms" description) on a 250-foot wall of clean rock at a consistent angle of about 70 degrees.

A nice introduction to the cliff is Clamdigger (my first-ever lead climb years ago), an enjoyable one-pitch 5.5 that puts you on Broadway, the big ledge that cuts across the cliff face midway. From there, finish up with Slow Children, a fun 5.4 hand crack. At the top, walk off left or rap down, but you'll need 2 ropes and it'll take 2 rappels. The path is quicker.

A step up is the 3-pitch sweep up the center of the cliff on the 5.7 Charlotte's Crack, the classic climb at Barrett's, combining nice face climbing lower down with squirrelly crack moves above.

More experienced climbers may want to test their meddle on the 5.8 (really a 5.9) Templeton's. Thin cracks and intricate protection make this one an exciting foray. My palms are drenched just thinking about my last trip up there. Sewing machine leg? Not me! (I lie).

There used to be a little guidebook to the area called "Rock and Ice Climbs in the Camden Hills" by Ben Townsend, but it may be out of print (and you can't have mine). For some local beta on climbing routes at Barrett's Cove, try checking in with the folks at Maine Sport in Rockport.

Post-climb, coil up the ropes and stow the gear, and go for a swim at the town beach on Megunticook just down the hill from the cliff. Then head to Cappy's Chowder House in the village for wings and a cold one. You've earned it!

Have fun and climb safe!

And if anybody wants to take this creaky old climber out for a nostalgic romp up the cliff, I'm in. I promise I won't wear my lederhosen, but I'll buy the beer after!

Hope you all have a fun and safe Fourth of July holiday! Family, friends, food, playing in the Maine outdoors... you know the drill. Enjoy!

The Maine Woods National Park proposal.

It's been kicking around for awhile and isn't likely to go away any time soon.

The folks at RESTORE are pushing hard for the idea. Another group, the Maine Woods Coalition, isn't too hot on it at all.

I say "no" (still).

Dave says "yes".

Now, there's many thousands of us out there that care dearly about the Maine Woods. We hike there, camp there, boat there, hunt and fish there. We love it!

But we differ on what should be done to protect its future.

I know we're on the verge of the long holiday weekend and you're itching to get going and all, but...

I'd like really to know... what do YOU think? Pro, con, undecided, whatever. Do you want to see a national park in Maine's North Woods or not? And why?

Take a moment and let me know. Maybe I could learn a thing or two.