We're just a couple of days into Daylight Savings Time, but already I can't take it.

I'm SAD.

Yesterday I was out hiking at Laudholm Farm in Wells and the shadows were loooooooooong at 2:30! Damn.

And right now I'm looking out my office window at the downtown Portland skyline. It's 4:45. And it's pitch dark.

Sigh.

The folks at the Seasonal Affective Disorder Association (SAD) define SAD "as a type of winter depression that affects an estimated half a million people every winter between September and April."

Uh, yeah, and most of them live in Maine I'll bet.

I know, I know. It's going to take a little getting used to the idea. Always does.

But soon enough we'll be out skiing and snowshoeing and doing other fun outdoor stuff aplenty. In the hour and a half of winter daylight that we're allotted. Woo-hoo!

OK, planning a trip to Costa Rica now. And maybe the Keys. Or Southern California. Or all three.

Sun, baby. Gimme sun!

Haulback. Widowmaker. Narrow Gauge. Upper Gondola Line. Kings Landing. Tote Road.

Can't you just see yourself adorning your house with a replica of a Sugarloaf trail sign?

I sure can. Especially given my taste for the "Early American Dorm Room" style of home decorating.

Seriously, buy one for the ski house, the den, the garage, the kid's bedroom.

I love it!

Says the Sugarloaf website: Sugarloaf Ski Shop is producing replicas of many of our most popular trail signs. The signs are plastic with vinyl lettering, measure 48" wide by 8.5" high, and cost $29.95 each.

Real Sugarloafers need their own trail sign. Order yours today!

And in just 18 short days...

The Plum Creek development stands to make some big changes in Maine's north woods, one way or the other.

It's big news, and big in the news right now.

Whatever you like to do in the outdoors, this project should concern you.

Read up on it so you know the facts. There's a lot to it.

Get some background on just who the Plum Creek Timber Company is.

Get an idea of what the Plum Creek development might look like by taking a look at a western resort.

Gain some insight into the financial pressures facing landowners big and small.

And find out what's already happening between long time camp owners and new owners on First Roach Pond.

And then voice your opinion on the Plum Creek project. Others have, pro and con. What do you think?

Loren Coleman and his cryptozoologist pals have been in the news a lot lately. With tales of Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, the abominable snowman... They even held a symposium on the topic this past weekend at Bates College.

I tried to contact them recently regarding evidence of a Maine Beer Troll, a stealthy creature that lurks in the dark corners of pubs across Maine, but I was ignored completely.

Snubbed.

I even ponied up some photographic evidence.

Nothing.

Fine.

Hey, we've got all kinds of weird and creepy thing out there in the Maine woods, and all these crypto-guys have is nothing but old and blurred videos and photos of their supposed creepy monsters.

Baloney.

We've got the real thing mister. And it's time to break things wide open here in Maine with the latest crypto-discovery...

Yes, that's right.

In Orono.

The Big Blue Beast.

I visited there a week ago to attend a strange annual ritual held on the campus of the University of Maine. They call it "homecoming." Thousands of rather strange people of all ages gather together for one, and seemingly only one, purpose that I could discern: to consume a certain frothy brew. They call it "beer."

I sampled it throughout the weekend. And it was good. So good in fact that it almost threw me off of my most important mission: To find evidence, and possibly capture, the Big Blue Beast that is known to inhabit the area each fall.

Despite the potion I had consumed, I was still able to break away from the rituals going on all about me to search the area for clues.

They were not hard to find.

Big blue paw prints were everywhere. At least a foot across and a foot and a half in length.

I was taken aback, if not a bit shaken. Scared even.

This was a big creature. And it was here. Somewhere. Maybe closer than I thought.

I carried on, but looked over my shoulder frequently. This was nothing to fool with.

Dauntless in my search for the scientific truth, I searched the campus from one end to the other. From the student union building to the banks of the Stillwater River. From the football stadium to Pat's Pizza in town.

And I queried all who I passed. To no avail.

I received only quizzical looks from people. Then distain. Then fear. Parents ushered their children to the side as I passed. Men and women screamed and scattered.

"Don't you know," I cried? "There's a monster out here, with big blue paws! He's going to get us all! Doesn't anyone care?"

... then my buddy Pete woke me from my nap in my chair in the sun. It was time to go into the football game.

Too much of the strange brew apparently. Or maybe not enough.

In any case, Happy Halloween!!!

It's deer hunting season in Maine (with rifles, that is), and time for anybody who plans on spending any time out in the woods, whether you're hiking, mountain biking or whatever, to wear at least two items of blaze orange clothing.

Deer hunters are required to wear an orange hat and something orange on their torso. You should too.

Accidents happen. Why be a statistic? And dead?

And while there is no hunting allowed on in Maine on Sundays, why take a chance? Wear the orange clothing anyway!

And remember, if you venture across the border into the hinterlands of the Granite State, be advised that there IS hunting 7 days a week. No let up. So it's orange a go-go in the NH woods.

The Maine deer hunting rifle season goes until sunset on Saturday, November 26th.

New Hampshire's deer rifle season extends until Sunday, December 4th.

So wear orange and be safe!

Looking for a fun day this weekend that combines a wild auto ride, an easy but rewarding hike, gear hounding in the epicenter of outdoor retailing, and good grog and food?

Well then dee-yah, I've got just the ticket for you.

Road trip: Drive up to Fryeburg and take Route 113 north out of town. Where the road takes a 90 degree right turn (store on left), go straight. Go a couple of miles at best until you see the Hurricane Mountain Road on your left.

Although it's been repaved and appears a bit wider then when I was up there a couple of years ago, it's still little more than a glorified bike path. Steep grades, lots of twists and turns and the chance to narrowly miss oncoming cars make this an exciting ride.

At the top of the pass, pull into the parking on your left.

The hike: Take the Black Cap Mountain Trail an easy 1.5 miles through the Green Hills Preserve (managed by the NH Nature Conservancy) to the top of Black Cap Mtn. If the trail gains more than a few hundred feet along the way to the 2,300' summit I'd be surprised. It's quite a nice walk with terrific views of the mountains and valleys along the Maine-NH border. Of course, when I was up there several weeks ago it was socked in with mist, so I hope you have better luck.

From the summit, double back to the Mt. Cranmore Trail and follow this for another easy mile or so to the top of the Mt. Cranmore Ski Area. Tip: Just after passing a silly looking telecom tower made up to look like a pine tree, you'll come out on a dirt road. Turn right and follow the road to the top.

From the ski lodge you'll enjoy views out over North Conway towards The Moats and Cathedral and Whitehorse Ledges. Sweet! A good spot for lunch.

On the walk over to Cranmore you'll note the Red Tail Trail, a single-track mountain bike trail (you can also hike on it). In fact, there's apparently a good deal of mountain biking routes throughout the preserve. Something to keep in mind for the next visit.

Again, double back and head to the car. And enjoy Part II of the wild ride on the Hurricane Mountain Road into North Conway and the Mt. Washington Valley.

Gear-hounding: Down in the valley you'll find outdoor gear heaven in the form of Ragged Mountain Equipment, International Mountain Equipment, and Eastern Mountain Sports. Fire up that credit card! 1, 2, 3... shop!

Grog and grub: Gear shopping is exhausting, so you'd better sit and rest up somewhere (and to ease the pain of spending gobs of cash on gear you didn't know you needed until it was in your hand and you exclaimed, "I've just got to have this!"). I know, I know. It's kind of a medical condition. Don't worry. You're not alone.

But I digress...

Steer your vehicle into the Red Parka Pub (the pub, not the restaurant, please), enjoy a draft beer served in a mason jar, as well as free peanuts and popcorn. And good, if not somewhat over-priced, pub food.

Or, take in the fine selection of microbrews at the Moat Mountain Brew Pub and enjoy some of their most excellent BBQ or other good chow on the menu.

OK then, fat and happy and nearly broke, you are now free to go home...

My good friends Kelly and Todd, of Maine Mountain Works fame (we miss your Marginal Way store and all the cool gear and cool people, but we understand), have put out the word of some changes going on at their Commercial St. store in Portland.

First, they've changed the name of the store to Nomads.

Makes sense. That's what a lot of your customers are anyway.

Secondly, although they won't be carrying the usual paddling, climbing or consignment gear at the Commercial St. store, they are adding Adventure Travel products to their outdoor gear mix.

I'll be down to check that stuff out for sure.

Finally, come on down tonight at 6PM for a free introductory lesson in "Nordic walking" (it's fitness walking with poles or like cross-country skiing without the skis) with certified Nordic Walking Trainer, Kristel Hayes.

Should be fun!

There's a lot going on in our north woods these days, much of which you never hear about.

For example: Did you know that there were "area sportsmen and residents who could not access snowmobile trails, a sportsmen´s hunting camp, or bring wood off their own properties," until a land swap deal was reached recently between a local logger and preservationist Roxanne Quimby of Burt's Bees fame?

I didn't.

The deal swaps a 14,000 acre parcel for another 10,000 acre parcel that Quimby had her eye on for preservation as she works to buy up land around Baxter State Park in hopes of a future national park coming to the region.

The deal again allows local people access to their own lands for traditional uses.

Thank goodness.

You know, I'm all for conservation, and there's a great deal of it going on in Maine's north woods. And the beautiful thing about most of the conservation deals that have been made lately is that they not only protect the land but they continue to allow access for traditional uses.

Believe it or not, good forestry can co-exist with trails; snowmobilers can co-exist with skiers; and so on. Not everywhere in every place certainly, but you get the idea.

I applaud Quimby's efforts to protect land from development, but I just can't abide with locking up large tracts of land and denying access to traditional uses and users.

Clearly, if you have the money--and Quimby does--you can do it. And she has as much right as any private landowner to do with her land as she wishes, within the bounds of the law.

But we have a long and proud history of mixed use of Maine's vast forestlands, and I sure hope the predominance of that line of thinking continues.

Incredibly, over the years, I've heard many people grumble about having to pay to access the North Maine Woods, to use the roads and stay at campsites.

We don't know how good we have it.

You want access problems, even more restricted use, and higher fees?

You'll get them with a national park.

Baxter Woods is a 10-acre piece of wooded heaven between the busy arterials of Forest Avenue and Stevens Avenue in Portland.

Living rather close by, I have hiked and mountain-biked beneath the cool canopy of hemlocks lining its quiet trails for years now. And many thousands of others have regularly enjoyed this gem of precious green space.

Well, the trails through Baxter Woods need a helping hand or two (or several dozen) and that's why the city has organized two trail work days for this Friday and Saturday, October 28th and 29th from 8am to 1pm each day.

The city's Parks and Rec Dept. has been doing some drainage work on the trails, and volunteers (that's you and me) are needed to finish the job of spreading mulch, pruning trees, and clearing out brush.

Participants are asked to meet at the corner of Leland and Mabel Streets, and to bring whatever tools they have, such as shovels, rakes, wheelbarrows, and pruners. Work gloves are necessary too.

For more info on how you can help with Baxter Woods trails this week, contact 756-7598.

Well, the pooper-peeker has gotten his due.

Enough humiliation to last a lifetime I'd say.

The judge in the case fined the man and ordered him to pay restitution, but spared him from jail time, provided he keeps himself clean (no pun intended) for the next two years.

Said the judge: "This gentleman has been subject to a great deal of media scrutiny and drawn to himself, should I say, notoriety. And a healthy share of bathroom humor, if you will. This is a person who deserves some compassion"

Stay outta them hip waders and you'll do just fine there Cappy.

And for the rest of us, we can now squat in comfort knowing that justice has been served.

And if you'd like to continue the laughs that this story has generated (like I do), here's a few places you should check out...

Take the Outhouse of America Tour and get all the latest photos of outhouses, outhouse trivia, folklore and outhouse facts.

But some nice outhouse posters and artwork for your friends and family for the holidays.

Catch up on outhouses in the news.

Buy a book on outhouses.

Discover why Maine's outhouses are disappearing.

And finally...

Some mighty good bathroom humor!

Have fun!

Privies.

With all this poop talk going on, my friend Dick reminded me today of the condition we found his privy in after a ski into his remote cabin on Chesuncook Lake on a cold February weekend last winter.

A balsam fir tree had decided to give up the ghost and topple over directly onto it, making for the only air-conditioned privy for miles around. Something that wasn't quite called for when it's 20 below outside and blowing a gale across the lake.

So, throughout our four day stay, suffice it to say that our trips "out back" were exhilarating, but brief. Business was business. Serious business.

And fortunately, I'd like to add, we never did find anybody peering up from underneath the privy seat (probably too cold to hang out under there in uninsulated hip waders).

Whew!

Dick rectified the privy's air conditioning problem over the summer, so we should be good to go for the next winter trip. It'll be so comfy in there now I might even bring a book out there with me...

Open for business!

All photos courtesy of Dick Rose.

I don't know about you, but ever since the pooper peeker incident along the Kancamangus Highway in NH last summer, I haven't been able to comfortably rest my rosy cheeks on an outhouse seat.

This has caused considerable stress in what would normally be a very relieving experience. It just doesn't seem fair.

Apparently the pooper peeker guy is back in the news this morning, although the news story online has so far stealthily eluded me, much as the outhouse voyeur did, until he was caught underneath a WMNF roadside toilet "looking for his lost wedding ring" last summer.

I guess his trial starts today, so we'll see how he tries to slime his way out of this one...

When you go to the polls to vote a couple of weeks from now, I hope you'll consider voting "yes" for the Question 2 transportation bond issue.

In amongst the $33 million for roads and bridges and all the sand and gravel stuff is $400,000 for new walking and biking trails.

I realize that's a small part of the big pie, but I think it's still very much worth supporting.

More dollars for improving our transportation system, from roads to public transit on down to trails that provide recreation and connect our communities is a good thing.

It's 'Yes on 2' from this trails supporter.

Anytime I find out about a new trail--any kind of trail--well, I just get all excited!

The folks in Benton just opened the Rotary Centennial Trail this past Saturday (although it isn't specified just how many miles of trail) as part of a proposed 18-mile long trail along Messalonskee Stream and the Kennebec River.

Very cool. We like that.

The trail follows an old railroad grade and is suitable for multiple uses like walking, bicycling and, come winter, cross-country skiing too.

Going to have to make a pit stop in Benton next time I'm through and check it out!

More info and maps are available from Kennebec Messalonskee Trails.

This is a toughy.

The possibility of generating clean power from a renewable source: the wind vs. the environmental damage that will be caused by the construction and presence of wind generators on wilderness mountaintops.

We need more energy, especially from renewable sources.

But can we abide by the concurrent damage to our remote and precious landscape?

I'm certainly torn.

I was just out in the Mojave Desert of southern California a few weeks ago and saw first hand what may be the largest wind farm in the country. Hundreds of tall generating towers with their rotating turbines.

The scale of it was amazing. And it was ugly at first. But then it grew on me and seemed acceptable. But that was in the desert, where its difficult to hide ugliness to begin with, not the boreal forests of northwestern Maine.

So, if we say "no" to this idea, are we being NIMBYs?

Would it be better if it was built in New Hampshire instead?

Do you really want to travel up north and paddle a river, or hike a trail, and be confronted head-on with a huge wind tower, or many towers, dominating the skyline for miles around?

Isn't this a good way to reduce our dependence on foreign oil, something we've squawked about for decades?

Could the visual impact be minimized by locating the towers in a compact area, therefore making the project more palatable?

Shouldn't we just cut back on our energy use so that we don't need to ruin our environment with wind towers?

I'm sorry. I have only questions at this point.

... if you're willing to hike a ways to get to it!

And here's the proof from Chauvin Guide Service of North Conway NH.

Conditions on the Big Rock look pretty gnarly, but damn good fun!

It's Friday.

Yes, thanks for reminding me, oh Master of the Obvious, you're saying.

I know, but it seems better to get it out there, give it some recognition. Seems to make it more real, that yes, the weekend is almost here.

On tap for this weekend (no pun intended)...

UMaine Homecoming!!

"Fill the steins to dear old Maine, shout til the rafters ring..."

The festivities with my old and crusty college mates will include a variety of fun indoor and outdoor activities. Of the slug variety, we'll partake of a few malt-based beverages and engage in mondo food episodes at the tailgate, and then watch the football game. On the more active side, we'll walk the most beautiful Orono campus, mountain bike some fine local trails, and play a round of golf.

I figure it'll just about balance out. And it will all add up to an enormous amount of fun. It always does.

What are your outdoor plans?

Poking around in North Conway NH recently netted me all kinds of bonuses. A great hike, some new gear, good beer, and a flyer on an outdoor center I'd never heard of.

The Tin Mountain Conservation Center puts on wide variety of interesting and informative programs, events and workshops throughout the year.

But damn if I'd ever heard of it. But now that I know...

Coming up this weekend, for example, is an Owl Prowl and a hike up Table Mountain. Down the road a bit they'll be clearing a trail on the old Boston & Maine RR, talking about climate change, holding a short course on winter bird ecology.

It's all great stuff. And a chance to get outside in the woods and hills along the Maine-NH border where they are located. And meet some new outdoor friends to boot.

By the way, the Tin Mountain Conservation Center is partially supported by our own LL Bean. Thanks LL! You can help too by becoming a member for a cool $35, although all TMCC activities are open to the public.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my day job. It's meaningful work. And I work with cool people, both in the office and across the state. It's not a bad gig.

But it's still work.

And, as we who love to play in the outdoors know all too well, work cuts into the available time for hiking and paddling and biking and skiing and, and, and...

So we pursue our outdoor passions in the evenings, on weekends, and on those precious vacation days.

Unless of course you're Pete McCarthy*, noted author, adventurer and traveler, whose work and play are uniquely combined, making me, and you too I'll bet, extraordinarily jealous.

I'm finishing up Pete's latest book, The Road to McCarthy: Around the World in Search of Ireland, and he's in Montserrat now, searching for his roots among the surprisingly large population of Irish descendants there.

He describes his work (a term used very loosely here) thusly:

"I've been studying Montserrat's history for the day and a half since I arrived. I've established an office at a table in the shade of a mango tree, with the unrealistically blue Caribbean to my right and the volcano constantly belching smoke away to my left. It's an office in the sense that, as well as a chair, there's a small table piled with books, and a bottle of cold Carib beer. Behind me is an empty swimming pool..."

Tough duty Pete. How do you deal with it?

Further on he writes:

"Afterwards, I put in a good session at my office under the mango tree. I'd never have thought that I was suited to an office job, but I'm starting to come round to the idea. Being able to have a swim and a beer whenever you feel like it is a big plus, and in the interests of productivity and job satisfaction, should be introduced to all industries as soon as possible if we are to continue to compete in global markets."

Now that's an office job!

I could do that!

Where in the world do I get me one of those I wonder?

* Sadly, I learned that McCarthy died of cancer last year at the young age of 53. He was just coming into his prime as a writer, so we'll just have to treasure his only two books.

No, I'm not talking about last night's Powerball. Which I didn't win, of course, hence I'm back here sitting in front of my computer this morning. As opposed to the likely very well-liquored-up winner somewhere in Oregon who will soon be waking up to a fat hangover and the realization of a fat wallet too. Way to go dude.

But I digress...

I'm talking about the $1 million prize that was put out there earlier this week for photographic evidence leading to the capture of Bigfoot, or Nessie, or the Yeti. I tried adding the elusive Maine Beer Troll to the list, but was ignored by authorities in the scientific community, those snobby crypto-malt-beveragists or whatever the heck they call themselves.

Anyway, the cheapskates (they probably drink PBR or worse, generic beer) have yanked the big prize money and subbed in a measly $5K.

Big whoop.

Now, I realize that 5G's will buy a lot of Ho-Hos and six-packs, but I just can't get excited about it. The thrill of the hunt is gone.

So Bigfoot and the Maine Beer Troll and the other beasts will probably continue their stealthy existence somewhere out there in the woods and mountains, occasionally frightening the crap out of some unsuspecting Maine camp owner, or some clueless kids camping out in some Maryland swamp.

'Cause 5K just ain't gonna bring 'em in...

Um, well, sorry to be the bearer of bad news for any of you skiers out there who procrastinated about buying a season pass this year, but...

The ASC Silver and Bronze passes--the ones most affordable to the PBR-pounding, I-eat-free-popcorn-for-dinner, don't-have-a-lot-of-cash types that I hang with--are unfortunately no longer available.

Yep, the best you can do now is the Gold pass for a cool $1300.

Yeah, right. Like that's gonna happen.

Do you know how many PBRs you could buy for that?

Tell me Big Drip. I'll bet you know...

I was poking around North Conway NH a week or so ago and, per usual, a tractor beam grabbed hold of me, and the next thing I know I'm inside International Mountain Equipment spending gobs of money.

I just can't figure it out. One minute I have money, the next I don't. But I have gear that minutes earlier I didn't know I needed.

Hmmm.

Does this happen to you?

Anyway, while I was at IME I checked out their consignment shop downstairs which is chock full of good stuff. And it occurred to me that, since Maine Mountain Works in Portland has closed, there isn't any place close by to get rid of your unwanted outdoor gear.

I suggest taking your stuff up to the nice folks at IME who will be happy to sell it for you. And IME will pay you 80% if you take store credit, 60% if you want cash. A good deal.

So gather up your goods, make the short drive across the New Hampshire frontier to IME, and maybe get in a hike somewhere nearby too.

I trust that most of you know Alix Hopkins and the wonderful work she did leading Portland Trails for so many years. Alix is a good friend and one of the nicest people you'd want to know. And she has done an incredible job for Portland and the surrounding communities through her tireless trails advocacy.

Well, it is no surprise then that Alix has written a book about her experiences here and that of selected other communities elsewhere in the U.S. The book is entitled Groundswell: Saving Places, Finding Community.

And tomorrow evening, Wednesday, October 19th, Alix will read from her new book at the Jameson Gallery, 305 Commercial St. in Portland, beginning at 5:30 PM.

But there's more...

Portland Trails current ED, Nan Cummings, has penned a chapter Following Diana, The New Woman in the Maine Woods, for the new book Of Place and Gender: Women in Maine History. Nan will also read excerpts of her writing.

And finally...

The 2nd edition of the Portland Trails Map and Trail Guide, revised and updated, will be available for sale ($4.95).

So, it looks like a busy and fun evening. Come on along and celebrate the literary success of two fine local people who have done so much for the cause of trails. And bring your checkbook, as I'm sure you might just want tp pick up a copy of each.

Maps.

All of us who venture into the outdoors use them.

Hikers use them to find their way along the trail. Bikers use them to figure out confusing networks of singletrack. Skiers use them to find their way down the mountain. Kayakers and boaters use them to navigate coastal and inland waters (although maps are known to coastal mariners as charts).

Maps and the ability to read them, as well as the proper use of a compass, are essential skills that every outdoors traveler should know.

But maps are also just plain fun. They contain so much interesting and intriguing information that some of us, like me, can spend hours and hours pouring over maps, tracing trails and waterways and mountaintops, as wild thoughts of adventure run through our heads, and be perfectly content.

So if you're a map lover, you should consider a visit to the Osher Map Library and Smith Center for Cartographic Education at the University of Southern Maine Glickman Library in Portland.

Inside you'll find more maps than you can shake a stick at, and will easily be able to while away hours pouring through the extensive collection.

Of particular note: Opening this evening is a special exhibition on old maps of the Portland Peninsula: The Changing Peninsula, Two Centuries of Portland Maps and City Views.

The exhibit opens with a reception from 6-6:30 PM. A lecture on Picturing Place: Portland and the Visual Arts will follow.

Boston.

In the opposite direction of the wild woods and waters, I know, but it's where I had to be last Friday for a series of business meetings.

But I tried to make the best of it. So when my last meeting ended early, I quickly calculated that I had enough time to scoot across town, poke through Hilton's Tent City for a few gear bargains, grab a slice and a beverage at Half Time Pizza, and still make the afternoon showing of the film Yellowstone at the IMAX Theater at the Museum of Science.

Hilton's, a great place for gear hounds.

Whew!

Well, I did all that and bellied up to the ticket window with plenty of time to spare.

But things went all to hell from there.

"One ticket for Yellowstone, please," I said to the young woman behind the counter.

"Will that be a senior ticket, sir?"

Big sigh.

My heart sunk. My shoulders slumped.

But then my blood started to boil.

Where's my denture cream? My walker? My tour bus? Dammit.

For chrissake I'm years from retirement. I hike, ski, bike, kayak, all that stuff. I'm no old fart.

But I just smiled politely at the girl and said, "No thanks. A regular ticket will do."

A bit of a horrified look came across her face.

"I'm so sorry sir."

Me too, I think.

I ponied up my $9 for the full-price ticket, smiled again, and walked off.

Sitting on the bench in front of the theater, a group of four seniors--real seniors--toddled over and sat down. The woman next to me had her ticket out in her hand. So I discreetly craned my neck over to look at her ticket.

SENIOR. $3.

Dammit.

The film was good, not the best IMAX film I'd seen, but good. Beautiful scenes of the volcanic landscape of Yellowstone complete with bison, elk, moose and all the expected wilderness stuff.

But I couldn't quite get into it all the way.

I had this gnawing dilemma playing around in my head: Go Grecian, or start scamming the discounted benefits of early retirement?

Hmmm... what to do, what to do???

That's me with my full-price ticket for the film Yellowstone at the Omni Theater. Dammit.

Cryptozoology: The scientific study of hidden, rumored or unknown animals.

Who knew?

And Loren Coleman, a prof at the University of Southern Maine and one of the world's leading cryptozoologists (there must be at least three, I'm guessing) will be speaking on the subject at an upcoming symposium at Bates College on October 28th.

Who cares?

Well, if you can produce a photo of one of the "big three" in the cryptozoology world--the Bigfoot or sasquatch, the Loch Ness monster or the abominable snowman--evidence that leads to the live capture of one of these infamous creatures, you could win a million bucks (and probably get your own reality TV show).

Cool.

Now, it's a pretty well known fact that none of these beasts hang out in the Maine woods. You hikers and other outdoorsy types out there who spend a lot of time tramping around in the woods can back me up on this, I'm sure.

But we Mainers do have a stealthy creature of our own, known to exist but rarely sighted, that I'm sure would be of interest to these crypto-something-or-other types... the Beer Troll.

And I just happen to have possibly the last known photograph of it.

I doubt it'll win me $1 million bucks, but the evidence has got to be worth something. And if we could actually find and trap the Beer Troll, and bring it to the symposium by the end of the month, well, wouldn't that just be something. Put the Maine woods back on the map. Put us on top of the cryptozoology world for sure. Maybe even earn us a Survivor: Maine show.

So, if any of you have any leads on where the Maine Beer Troll is, let's talk. Time's a wasting...

Arlene Blum is a name I hadn't heard of in quite a few years. Until I picked up a copy of The Mountain Ear last weekend while cruising through North Conway NH.

I remember Blum, an accomplished female mountaineer when there were very few of the kind, for her all-women expedition to Annapurna in 1978, which she organized and led. Two members of the expedition and two Sherpas made it to the summit of the 8,000 meter peak, but two other climbers in her party were killed just days later. An amazing feat tempered with tragedy.

Blum was also the first to lead an all-women expedition to the summit of Alaska's Denali in 1970.

Blum is the author of two books: Annapurna: A Woman's Place, and her newest, Breaking Trail: A Climbing Life.

Arlene Blum will be appearing at the Mount Washington Oberservatory Discovery Center on Main St. in North Conway tomorrow, October 16th, from 2-4 PM.

This will no doubt be an interesting and inspiring program and one not to miss. So don't let the weekend rain get you down, hop in the car and head on up to North Conway.

Yup, it's raining again today. It rained yesterday. It's probably going to rain tomorrow.

Seems like we endured a similar soggy, gloomy holding pattern earlier this year, didn't we?

If you're stuck inside today, a little antsy, you can still make the best of it.

Crank open a big window, throw on a fleece, grab a good book, pull up a chair and relax to the sounds and smells of the rain. And pretend that you're miles away in a wilderness cabin, like Thomas Merton, who wrote these beautiful words about rain...

The rain I am in is not like the rain of cities. It fills the woods with an immense and confused sound. It covers the flat roof of the cabin and its porch with insistent and controlled rhythms. And I listen, because it reminds me again and again that the whole world runs by rhythms I have not yet learned to recognize... I came up here last night. The rain surrounded the cabin with its virginal myth, a whole world of meaning, of secrecy, and rumor. Think of it: judging nobody, drenching the thick mulch of dead leaves, soaking the trees, filling the gullies and crannies of the woods with water... What a thing it is to sit absolutely alone in the forest, at night, cherishing this wonderful, unintelligible, perfectly innocent speech, the most comforting speech in the world, the talk that rain makes by itself all over the ridges, and the talk of watercourses everywhere in the hollows. Nobody started it, nobody is going to stop it. It will talk as long as it wants, this rain. As long as it talks I am going to listen.

I'm very sorry that you lost your wife Mr. Packard. Very sorry. There are really no words to ease the pain, even now, two years later.

Packard's wife, Joyce Ann Packard, drowned on Sept. 20, 2003, after falling out of her kayak and becoming pinned against the grate of the dam at the mouth of Sebasticook Lake.

And Packard himself, who jumped into the lake to try and save his wife, might also have died were it not for the quick action of some local folks on shore, as I recall.

A tragic accident.

But now Packard is suing Cianbro, who built the dam, contending "that she died as a result of the company's negligent design, construction and installation of the screen."

Two important items to note in this case: 1) Mrs. Packard wasn't wearing a life jacket while out kayaking that day, and 2) The current was stronger than normal because the dam was open for its annual drawdown.

Being out on the water without a life jacket is inexcusable. And you shouldn't go out without some knowledge of the conditions (i.e. risks) you will face.

Two costly instances of bad judgement.

I just don't see where Cianbro is liable here.

It was an accident.

And I don't see how suing makes it any better.

Last Sunday, dreary Sunday, was the day of the 4th annual Bicycle Coalition of Maine Fat Tire Frolic mountain bike ride on the trails in Carrabassett Valley.

Incredibly, despite the steady rain and 45 degree temps, a number of hardy (though possibly imbalanced) people did actually show up to ride. It was a bleak scene, though, with not a shred of hope for the slightest ray of sun.

But even so, a dozen riders bundled up, smiled nice for the camera and pedaled off for a 15-mile round trip ride on the Narrow Gauge Pathway.

Fat Tire Frolic organizer extraordinaire Ellen overjoyed at the rain. That's Pete in the background with the nice tights.

BCM Big Boss Jeff gets ready to go.

Twelve strong and ready to ride.

Colors along the raging Carrabassett River.

I (one of the imbalanced ones, or maybe not) decided to leave my bike firmly attached to its rack and bag on the idea. And chose instead to go for more coffee, then some hound-dogging through the area looking for real estate with my good buddy Phil, in the never ending search for that perfect (and affordable) little cabin in the woods.

Phil with his 'teef' in.

This month's Backpacker magazine arrived in the mail yesterday, as did Outside.

And that pretty much killed whatever else I was going to do last night.

I cracked a cold one and sat down to devour each from cover to cover.

I always enjoy "the Big Question" in Backpacker, curious to see what the rest of the backpacking world thinks on various topics.

This month's poll question: Should national park entrance fees be raised?

Curiously, 34% voted YES, while 66% voted NO.

Hmmm. I wouldn't have expected that.

It is a fact, according to the National Parks and Conservation Association, that our National Park System operates at an annual deficit somewhere around $600 million.

Ouch!

But interestingly, it was Craig Obey, the VP for Government Affairs for the NPCA, that penned for the "no" side, citing that we already pay enough taxes, camping and permit fees, and that we don't want to price out more poorer Americans from our parks.

A reasonable take. But it still leaves the question of how to infuse the NPS with more needed cash. Obey indicated that more philanthropical giving would help ease the burden.

Maybe.

On the "yes" side, Don Leal of the Political Economy Research Center bluntly wrote that "the people who use the parks should pay".

Well, yeah. But how much?

We already pay $20 to enter Acadia National Park.

How much more will it take? $30, $40, $50?

I do know that in all areas of the federal government there is a good percentage of waste, fraud and abuse. And I can't imagine the NPS is immune from these blights.

So if even 10% of the waste and duplication and so forth could be identified and eliminated, wouldn't we be way ahead of the game? Without raising fees?

It's a tough question. And I'm not sure what the best solution(s) is?

What are your thoughts?

For nearly a hundred years, the Portland Water District has controlled public access to a large area of land and shoreline at the southwest corner of the lake in an effort protect water quality.

But late last year, the PWD loosened up their land use policies and has now granted public access to more than 1,000 acres for recreational uses such as hiking, biking and hunting.

This is great news!

The area is being patrolled by a PWD security officer and, as I understand it, permits to use the property must be signed at information kiosks at entrance points to the land. Maps are also provided at these locations.

This corner of the lake has an incredibly beautiful shoreline and nice woods that we can all enjoy now, although there still remain some restricted areas.

I can surely understand the PWDs concerns about water quality and pollution threats and abuse of the property that have prevailed through the years.

But I firmly believe that granting public accesss will translate to more use by good people with an eye towards stewardship. Simply put, it's more eyes and ears and bodies around that will help reduce abuse and will help to enhance the security patrols by PWD personnel.

It's a win-win. And I can't wait to get out there for a nice walk.

If you haven't yet visited a corn maze for a few hours of side-splitting fun and adventure, well, you're missing out.

But don't be misled, corn mazes aren't just for children. While there's no doubt that the kids love them and have a wonderful time, corn mazes are also a fine way to entertain adults chronically suffering from arrested development.

This would of course include myself and most (all?) of my friends.

For several years running, after our annual mountain biking trip to the magificent single-track trails of Kingdom Trails in East Burke, Vermont, we would wrap up our weekend with a trip to a corn maze a few miles south on our way home.

And there, for several hours, we would pathetically (and hysterically) attempt to navigate our way past the waypoints to the bell at the other end of the maze.

The laughter and cameraderie and sheer silliness of it all made for a fine way to conclude what was always a fun outdoor weekend together.

So, find a local corn maze, grab the kids, grab your goofy friends and take a stab at navigating through the corn stalks.

You'll love it!

Books.

The stack at home continues to grow. Actually now there are several stacks. The coffee table. Next to the coffee table. On the shelf above my bed. Next to the bed on the floor.

I reading them as fast as I can. Adventure books, travel books, novels (yes, novels!). Almost an entire month of traveling recently and yet I still couldn't get through more than a handful of books.

Like the parable of the five loaves and two fishes, the stacks don't ever seem to diminish. There are always more books.

I need to be banned from Border's, Books Etc., Longfellow's. Amazon should refuse my credit card. Somebody has got to stop this...

Right now I'm pouring through Between a Rock and a Hard Place, that amazing story of Aron Ralston, who managed to cut his arm off in order to extract himself from a remote Utah canyon. I'm also halfway through Pete McCarthy's last book, The Road to McCarthy, adventuring around the world in search of his Irish heritage.

What's next? We'll see.

What are you reading?

Wanna borrow a book or two? No problem, I've got plenty extra.

Sorry about the late notice, but today is the first day of the annual ALDHA Gathering at Hanover, NH.

ALDHA, the Appalachian Trail Long Distance Hikers Association, a vibrant organization of very enthusiaistic and experienced hikers and outdoor lovers, gets together every year at this time to meet and talk trail talk, put on some great slide programs on, what else, long trails to hike, and hold a variety of useful and interesting workshops; like hiking the AT, the Pacific Crest Trail, long distance bicycling, hiking the new Sea to Sea Route across the US and much more.

And seeing as how the daily schedule of events runs right up until 1AM each day, I suspect there may be a few extracurricular activities going on amongst this fun-loving bunch.

Now, you don't need to be a certified long distance hiker to attend. But if you are interested in hiking, especially big hikes, then you're very likely to get jazzed up and learn an awful lot from this group.

The ALDHA Gathering runs from noon today through Sunday evening, so there's plenty of time to get over to Hanover and dive head first into the mix.

Onward...

There are countless ways to injure yourself on Tumbledown Mountain, whether you try to finagle your way up the loose rocks of the Chimney (which I believe is off limits, but is still traveled), scrambling up the various rock faces, bounding across the summit rocks, or technical rock climbing on the big alpine walls.

Apparently yet another person has found a way to get into trouble up there.

News is still a bit sketchy, but there's a high-angle rescue going on this morning to extract a man who fell down the face of the mountain sometime yesterday. Given the description of the accident, I'm assuming he was rock climbing, but I'm not sure.

Getting injured in th wilds is something none of us plan on, but stuff happens. We should always be prepared with a few "extras" in our packs--even if it's only a short day hike--like food, water, fleece, headlamp, rain gear, garbage bag, first aid kit.

I'm hoping this guy had the proper gear with him to spend a comfortable night out despite his injuries. And I'm hoping they get him down okay and and that he isn't hurt too seriously.

We'll see...

Mountain bikers, hybrid bikers, fun outdoorsy people of all persuasions: This coming Sunday is the annual Fat Tire Frolic, organized by the Bicycle Coalition of Maine.

That's where I'll be. Hope you will too. You just gotta go. It's a blast!

The FTF is a 20-mile loop ride along the outrageously beautiful Carrabassett River on the Narrow Gauge Pathway, then back along the base of Bigelow Mountain on jeep roads and sweet single track.

The BCM website has event and registration info...

And here's some pics from last year's fun ride. Enjoy!

If you're a river rat like me and love rafting and kayaking, I hope you're reading No Umbrella, a relatively new, very well written monthly paper on all things having to do with getting wet on the water in Maine.

In the September issue of No Umbrella, you'll find an article on rafting out west by veteran Maine river guide Scott Phair, a marathon trip to the Colorado River through Cataract Canyon, the San Juan River, and the Green River through the Gates of Lodore Canyon.

A few things you should know going into this, though...

I've known Scott and his brother Pete for many, many years now. And Scott, while he may not have invented 'boat drinks', has most certainly perfected the art, especially on the river. Further, Scott opens the article by describing he and his Maine river companions as "relatively sane Maine river runners."

Now Scott, I must ask, how could you make such a blatantly false statement, and mislead all those good readers?

Sane? A madman river runner like you? And your cronies? Sane?

You're killing me.

I know better. And I'm joking with you of course (well, sort of).

Anyway, back to the story. It's a good one. And leaves me very jealous and aching for a marathon raft trip to the magnificent canyons of the US west myself.

Paddle on, or should I say "hold on" with Scott and enjoy!

In last Sunday's Maine Sunday Telegram, I wrote about trekking in Europe, which is an awesome thing to do if you haven't already.

When overseas it's nice to keep in touch with folks at home, of course. And in my "travel tips" I said that US cell technology was not compatable with European cell technology (theirs is more advanced), so don't bother taking your cell phone with you. I touted phone cards as the best communications solution.

Reader Nate from Greenfield MA tells me other wise, so I thought I'd pass on his info to you potential Europe travelers:

In the US, there are two cellular technologies in use, CDMA, which is used by Verizon and Sprint, among others, and GSM, which is used by T-mobile and AT&T/Cingular and many others (http://www.gsmworld.com/roaming/
gsminfo/cou_us.shtml ). The GSM standard is the most commonly used standard in the rest of the world, and most GSM phones in use in the US are compatible with the frequencies used in Europe. In the last year, I have used my GSM T-mobile phone in Paris, Congo and the Philippines. Calls were ridiculously expensive using my home service, but possible. If you know that you will be traveling and want to take your existing GSM phone with it's saved numbers, it is possible to get a prepaid GSM card in the destination country, which will allow cheap incountry calling (good for checking reservations, etc) and more affordable calls home. Depending on the phone, you may need to get it unlocked in advance to be assured that it will work with any carrier, anywhere. For more about unlocking, http://www.thetravelinsider.info/
roadwarriorcontent/unlockingfaq.htm

So I guess it can be done. Thanks for the tips Nate.

16th tee, Springbrook Golf Course, Leeds, 6:45PM last evening. The sun is down.

I tee off.

Whack!

Sounded good. But I'll be damned if I know where it went.

Pete steps up. Same thing.

Hmmm.

Perhaps it's time to call it a night. Don and Ron agree. Our games have been getting a little shaky the last few holes anyway. We head to the clubhouse for a beer.

Note to self: Best try to tee off before 2PM these days if you plant to get a full 18 holes in.

Or maybe skip the golf all together (the way my game has been, that's not a bad idea), break out the road bike, helmet and headlamp and start taking part in some night rides with the Casco Bay Bike Club.

Hardy CBBCers will be night riding every Wednesday evening, starting at 6PM from Payson Park in Portland, until snow and ice make riding unsafe.

Yup, I have it right here in my grubby paws.

The envelope. Blue and white. Addressed to me.

Inside, a plastic card with my photo on it.

Yes!

My 2005/06 Season Ski Pass!

Woo-hooooooooooo!

The leaves will fall, the winds will blow, the skies will turn gray, the air will get cold, and then...

It will SNOW!

And after that, well, anybody with one of these plastic cards will figure it out from there.

Tick, tick, tick...

A father and son duo from Farmington have spent the past few years eschewing trails and taking the less traveled routes to the mountains in their area: they bushwhack.

Now, if you've never bushwhacked, well, you've been missing out on some good fun. As well as plenty of scratches and bruises as you tumble up and down mountains trying desperately to follow a compass line and figure out just where you are on your topo map.

But, as these two have discovered, the rewards are huge and satisfying. You're very likely to enjoy plenty of solitude, visit places in the woods where no one else has been, at least for a long while; find interesting, long lost artifacts; and hone your route finding skills to razor-edge sharpness.

Years back when I worked as a forester for the Maine Forest Service, I spent an entire summer working to complete a statewide inventory of the Maine's forestlands. My crew (there were 8 crews statewide as I recall) was assigned 100 plots--each marked by 8-inch wooden dowels in the forest floor--that had been set there a few years prior, laid out randomly over hundreds of square miles. Our job was to find and remeasure the trees and the growth on them. All this data would then be crunched in a computer program which would spit out a statistical approximation of the state's timber resources.

It was one of the best summers of my life.

Armed with maps and compasses and occasionally an aerial photograph, and a god measure of youthful enthusiasm, my crew crashed through more brush and blowdowns and beaver swamps, through rain and bugs and mud, to find 96 out of our assigned 100 plots.

And from that experience I learned important woods navigations skills that I've never forgotten, skills that have come in pretty handy, confidently getting me out of a few tight spots in the wilderness on multiple occasions.

Hey, who needs those stinkin' trails anyway when you can just bushwhack up the side of the mountain? Just kidding of course.

Kudos to the pair from Farmington for their trailblazing efforts. It sounds like a load of good fun. And I hope we'll hear more about their experiences.

So, you wild and crazy hikers out there... do you bushwhack? Where? What navigation gear do you use?

Every day is a gift because we just never know if we're going to get another tomorrow. That's for a higher power to decide, whatever or whoever you deem that to be.

This past weekend two people in Maine, out having a good time, probably not giving a second thought to any danger, died unexpectedly in outdoor accidents. There'll be no tomorrows for them.

Tragic and sad, but it happens.

One man fell to his death after slipping on some rocks above Sand Beach in Acadia. Something that seems to happens to unsuspecting visitors every few years. But we can't go posting and fencing off every potentially dangerous spot in the park. Risk is part of life.

Just like the risk you take when you go whitewater rafting. One minute you're hooting and hollering as the boat crashes through the rapids. A split second later everything is topsy turvy and you're in the river fighting for your life.

I know. The Dead River nearly took me for good in a rafting flip in the spring of 1994. And during Saturday's big Dead release, the river did take a man, drowning him at Mile Long Rapids.

Damn, I'm so sorry for both, and their families.

"Life is a daring adventure or nothing at all," wrote Helen Keller. And sometimes we pay a huge price for that adventure.

Just a little more than a week ago I was yucking it up in the Mojave Desert of southern California with my good buddy Tim, my oldest friend in the world (Union Street Junior High, Bangor!). Tim has lived out in the desert there for about 15 years now, and I can't seem to get him to move back this way.

But every time I visit I remember why he loves it out there so much. He lives in a little cabin high on a hilltop overlooking Yucca Valley, with tremendous views of Mt. San Jacinto and Mt. San Gorgonio (both 10,000 foot peaks along the Pacific Crest Trail) right out his door. And magnificent Joshua Tree National Park, world famous for its great rock climbing, hiking and mountain biking, is just minutes to the east.

So I was elated to get to spend four days hanging out with him, which ended up in the usual whirlwind of outdoor activity. We hiked, we scrambled, we rock climbed, we camped out, we cooked hot dogs and beans over a pinon pine fire, gazed at the stars in the clearest night sky possible, and fell asleep to the barking of coyotes all around us (and occasionally right in camp trying to snatch our food).

The desert was magical, as it always is, and now I can't wait to get back there for another visit. If only I didn't have to endure the ugly and unhealthy thick brown-orange smog of Los Angeles to get there.

So here's some pics from this brief, but action-packed trip to Joshua Tree.

Enjoy!

Joshua Tree National Park, a desert paradise.

Hiking in the high desert.

Late day sun over Barker Dam, one of the only places to find water in Joshua Tree.

Pictographs in a cave near Barker Dam.

The second stage booster at work from a rocket launch from Vandenburg AFB as it screams over Joshua Tree. I can't say I've never witnessed anything like this before. Wild!

Approaching Saddle Rock with climbing gear in tow.

First pitch of Walk on the Wild Side, a premier 5.8 climb.

Fixing the first belay.

Paying out the rope...

My turn on the awesome friction wall.

Hamming it up as the angle eases off.

A rather scenic belay spot.

Topping out on the airy pinnacle.

Happy feet.

Rappelling off the climb.

Packing up the gear.

Tim's dog Ringo in the twilight of evening on Mt. Ryan.

Sunset on the summit ridge of Mt. Ryan.

Dogs grilling on the fire in camp at Hidden Valley.

Sunrise over Hidden Valley and camp.