Die hard Jimmy Buffett fans will no doubt have picked up on the title of my blog post the other day.

It is, of course, from the the hilarious ditty of a song God's Own Drunk, the last track on Living and Dying in 3/4 Time, my most listened-to Buffett CD of all-time...

"I promised my brother-in-law that I'd go up and watch his still while he went into town to vote. It was right up there on the mountain where the map said it would be. But lemme tell you friends and nieghbors, it weren't no ordinary still. It stood up there on that mountainside like, like a huge golden oak. Awww, and there was God's yeller moon shining on the cool, clear evenin'. God's little lanterns jus a twinklin' on and off in the heavens. And like I 'splained to you all before I ain't no drinking man. But temptation got the best of me and I took a slash. Whew! That yellow whiskey running down my throat like honey dew vine water and I took another slash. I took another and another and another and before ya knew it..."

"... I was God's own drunk, a fearless man. That's when I first saw the bear. He was a Kodiak lookin' feller 'bout 19 feet tall. Ha rambled up on that hillside 'specting me to do one of two things, flip or fly. I didn't do either one. It hung him up. He looked me right in my eyes and my eyes were a lot redder than his was. It hung him up. He come sniffin' 'round my body trying to smell fear, but he ain't gonna smell no fear 'cause I'm God's own drunk and a fearless man. It hung him up..."

Maybe that's what happened to me and my bear visitor. I'd had a few pops at the pub down the road apiece, yes, but I wasn't anything near tipsy. Just plain trail happy.

Maybe just tired enough, though, to give him a go for his money, so to speak. Enough sass and backhandin' from this here hiker to feign a smidgen of Jimmy Buffett-like courage so that it plum hung him up.

Hard tellin'.

But I do know this: There's one hiker that's still scratching head over that night. And likely one bear somewhere out there in the NH woods that's doing the same.

So where am I goin' with all this silly-talk?

Nowhere really.

'Cept to the Jimmy Buffett concert this coming Sunday at Gillette Stadium.

Woo-hoo!!!

With tickets to a Jimmy Buffett concert this Sunday in Foxboro it's going to be 5 o'clock everywhere this weekend. The usual outdoor activities will just have to wait...
Carey Kish photo

Yep, I'll be outside this weekend, but up to pretty much no good, except fun and frivolity, parrot-heading around the parking lot at Foxboro with 65,000 other crazed Buffett freaks waiting for the show to start.

Bring it on Jimmy. The fins are up and we're circling around!

But oh Come Monday...

Wonder how many other Maine Parrotheads will be shirking their usual weekend outdoor activities of hiking and boating and biking et al for a trip to Buffett?

You??

It's about time!

Kudos to Jim Calafone, owner of the long-neglected Big Moose Mountain resort and 6,500 surrounding acres just north of Greenville for his proposal to finally make something of the place.

The backside of Big Moose Mountain from atop the ridge on Little Moose Mountain. There's big development plans for the Greenville resort in the news today. What do you think?
Carey Kish photo

I've always thought--and I know I'm not alone on this--that Big Moose has had tremendous recreational and economic development potential, so it's exciting to see someone stepping forward with a plan.

Califone's plans include upgrades to the ski area lifts, base lodge and hotel, all of which have sat wastefully dormant for some time. Two-hundred condos are also on tap, as well as an 18-hole golf course, two hotels and conference centers, single-family homes and a train station.

You go Jim! This is great news!

"We are confident that the eventual plan will be a sound and environmentally sensitive approach for future growth," said Tom Farmer, a planner with DeWan and Associates of Yarmouth.

Good. Hard to argue with that.

Such a sound and compact package of balanced development ought to easily garner good local support and navigate the LURC process just fine.

Greenville's town manager John Simko called the proposal a "tremendous benefit" for the region.

Ditto that.

Of course, this good news comes just as the revised Plum Creek plan is due for review later this fall.

How Plum Creek will effect Califone's plans for Big Moose is anybody's guess. The two would appear to be very complementary in my view. But then, I'm a Plum Creek advocate.

What are your thoughts on this Big Moose news? And what about Plum Creek? Are the two proposals together too much? Or just right?

On the afternoon of the third day of my recent Cohos Trail thru-hike I descended from the heights of Mount Eisenhower, crossed the valley of the Ammonoosuc River and popped out onto Route 302 at Bretton Woods, right at Fabyans Restaurant & Bar.

No self-respecting long distance hiker ever passes by such an establishment, so I dropped my pack, ducked inside and bellied up to the bar and began to order mass quantities of food. Several hours later, appetite satisfied and thirst slaked, I waddled out the door and up the road a half-mile to the Mount Deception Campground, for what I hoped would be a restful evening.

I settled in to a grassy site in the middle of the place, as far away as I could get from the RVs and campers that made up the majority of visitors. There I pitched my new lightweight one-man tent, threw in the gear and headed directly to the showers for a glorious clean-up. Back at camp I gathered up my stinky clothes and went back to throw them into the laundry for a thorough washing.

On each of these laps to and from the bathhouse/laundry room I noticed small piles of scat in the grass. Dark blue scat with seeds. Bear scat. My eyes observed, but my tired brain didn’t really seem to register this important fact, just a few feet from my little campsite. Not good.

Finally, I sat down at the picnic table, relaxed and read my book until well after sundown. That’s when fatigue won out and I crawled into my sleeping bag and fell fast asleep, that deep and pleasant slumber of trail weariness.

Some time later in the dark of night, however, I awoke to some serious noise close by, real close, like in my camp. Hmmm, I semi-thought in my semi-awake state. Something thrashing and thumping about. And snorting and uttering nasty guttural sounds. Hmmm, I thought again in a more alert state.

I reached for my headlamp, strapped it on, flicked the switch... And that’s when I first saw the bear, about 6-8 inches from my face, its face buried in my empty backpack which sat leaning up against the tent.

Pure instinct took over, and I yelled "hey!"

Startled, the bear removed its nose from my pack and stared right at me, big brown face and nose, the rest of him (or her)—and there was a lot more of him or her—black as night.

Someone had to flinch in this close encounter, and it turned out to be me.

I yelled again, louder this time: "Hey!"

Given my aggressive stance in the matter, Mr. Bear (may I call you Mister?) backed up a few paces. And proceeded to rear up on his hind legs.

{insert large quantities of hiker poop here}

Now, mind you I've dealt with bears in the wild before, but never from the disadvantage of a prone position on the ground in a tiny little solo tent, with nothing but a thin layer of nylon separating me from Ursus americanus.

At this point, Mr. Ursus, now hovering over me with large paws high in the air, begins to weave back and forth as if he's doing “the wave” at a Patriot’s football game. Well that's pretty cool, I think for a moment, something you don't see everyday.

I quickly snap back to reality and begin to understand what may happen next, said bear pouncing forward and down onto me and the tent and turning both into a midnight snack, leaving only scattered bits of Gore-Tex and gray hair behind as evidence of the meal. Hiker scat.

I yell again, much, much louder this time: "Hey, hey, hey!" {pretty creative, eh?}

Clearly the addition of those forceful extra "hey's" must have done the trick, for the bear resumed a more reasonable position on all fours. He poked around the fireplace, rummaged in the grass, investigated the picnic table.

Mr. Bear poking around my campsite at Mt. Deception campground on the Cohos Trail, NH.
Carey Kish photo

It was then that he turned and padded back toward me. And proceeded to stick his nose right into the mesh netting of my tent door, perilously close to my own nose.

Whoa!

I didn't need to think about this one at all: I back-handed the bear right in his big brown in-my-tent snout!

That got his attention! He stared right at me, mano-a-bearo, and some kinda surprised. But he backed off again and began to pace furiously back and forth, grunting and snorting and making more awful noises.

Oh crap, I thought. Now I've done it. Who the hell smacks a bear in the nose and lives to tell about it?

But you know, after a few more minutes of pacing about. Mr. Bear wandered off for good. I guess I'd hurt his feelings. And maybe his nose.

Maybe he was thinking along the same lines as me as I dropped back onto my sleeping bag, exhausted and shaking from the encounter: Smacking a bear in the nose was never on my to-do list! And getting smacked by some hiker was likely never on his!

The morning after my encounter with Mr. Bear.
Carey Kish photo

A federal judge in Bangor killed a legal challenge to a Maine state law that allows access to the Allagash Wliderness Waterway at 11 existing road access points.

"It certainly seems apparent that the Allagash is no longer 'a wild, scenic river, generally inaccessible except by trail,' if it ever was such a river, as it now has eleven motor vehicle access points and six permanent watercourse crossings," wrote Judge Margaret Kravchuk.

Good for you, Judge.

Further, "state officials have the right to set management policies for the waterway because it's owned and operated by the state, not the federal government. "

Whoops from the crowd, Judge. Ditto that!

The Allagash River is OK just the way it is. It's beautiful country and canoeing the river today is still as fine an outdoor experience as any in Maine.

Remote and scenic as the Allagash country is, however, it isn't wilderness, as the judge said. Just beyond the borders of the officially protected strip you'll find logging trucks and timber harvesting going on, among other uses.

But you'd hardly know it from the river corridor. Even passing under the various bridges, one just floats quietly by and then they're gone, with minimal impact on the visitor experience.

So no need for any hubbub over reducing access. Take your legal challenges somewhere else, please and thank you. And leave all those who use and enjoy the Allagash in many diverse (can you say multiple use?) ways alone.

Speaking of rivers...

I'm headed up to The Forks this evening for two days of running the rapids on the Kennebec with friends. Damn if it took this long into the summer to get the raft on the water! How did this happen? Too many toys, too little time to play. Think this problem may require some pondering around the campfire tonight, cold one in hand...

Hope your weekend is wet and wild too!

Heading into Whitewasher in the Kennebec River gorge.
Action Photography photo

Whew! It just ain't so.

Mountain bikes are NOT banned from the Bigelow Preserve, nor is there any plan to do so, according to Kathy Eichenburg of the Maine Bureau of Parks and Lands.

Woo-hoo!!!

An ecstatic mountain biker rejoices at the news!
Carey Kish photo

I had a real nice and rather lengthy conversation with Eichenburg this morning about a variety of issues regarding the Bigelow Preserve and the newly minted management plan.

Mountain bikes are a welcome part of the recreational mix, Eichenburg assured me, just as they have been for a long time.

In a effort to clear up any misunderstandings on this hot button issue Eichenburg issued a press release today detailing the state's official position on mountain bikes in the preserve.

Rather than highlight, synopsize or risk muddying up the singletrack in any way, here's the message--the good news for concerned mountain bikers--straight from the BPL:

Mountain Biking on the Bigelow Preserve Is Allowed Under the New Flagstaff Regional Management Plan adopted by the State Bureau of Parks and Lands

An article in the August 3, 2007 Morning Sentinel has raised concerns that the Bureau of Parks & Lands plans to eliminate a favored mountain bike route on the Bigelow Preserve. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, the new Flagstaff Region Management Plan explicitly recognizes mountain biking as an allowed use on the Preserve for the first time in the Preserve’s history. Mountain biking was not addressed in the previous management plan for this area, the 1989 Bigelow Preserve Management Plan. In designating mountain biking as a new allowed use, the Plan stated “It is the Bureau’s view that mountain biking, as a backcountry touring experience, can be compatible with the quiet backcountry recreation opportunities that are currently provided in the Preserve in the non-winter seasons.”

Contrary to what was reported on August 3, the new Flagstaff Region Management Plan adopted on June 12 of this year will not restrict mountain bikes to roads designated for automobile use. The Plan will allow mountain biking on designated management roads and trails, which are identified in the Plan to include the East and West Flagstaff Roads, the Stratton Brook Road, the extension of the Huston Brook Road that links with the Stratton Brook Road, and the woods management road linking the Stratton Brook Road to Stratton. This system includes the route that is presently used by the mountain biking community. The Plan recognized that some use conflicts could occur, but has addressed these through its policy of limiting mountain bikes to designated trails.

The Bigelow Preserve and the nearby state properties on Flagstaff Lake and the surrounding region offer great opportunities for outdoor recreation, including hiking the Appalachian Trail, canoeing and kayaking on Flagstaff Lake and the Dead River, hunting, snowmobiling, snowshoeing, backcountry skiing, mountain biking and more – a great place to “Take it Outside.”

This is great news! For mountain bikers and other multiple-use users of the Bigelow Preserve, a very special place that we all care about deeply. Thank you Kathy and the BPL for your continued hard work and dedication to Maine's outdoors.

If you have any questions about the plan or want to download a copy of it check with the Maine Bureau of Parks and Lands.

I can go back to my happy place now...

Repairs to the raft were top priority last weekend in preparation for an upcoming fun-filled weekend of splashing down the Kennebec River with friends. Several leaky valves were overdue for replacement and, with the help of some marine glue, elbow grease and sunshine the job got done.

But with that, and unpacking from the Cohos Trail (yes, still) and packing for a trek out west not far off, the weekend was shot. So it goes.

On the entertainment front, however, I did manage to get in a few laughs with the movie The Darwin Awards. I'm a sucker for a good laugh, and people who do incredibly stupid things and then end up dead just crack me up for sure.

Makes me a sicko maybe, but it damn sure puts a big smile on my face. If you haven't seen The Darwin Awards do rent it and enjoy.

Post-movie I couldn't help but take another look at The Darwin Awards website and get a few more chuckles. I was particularly interested in outdoors people who had managed to give themselves the axe, so to speak, so I typed a bunch of different things into the search box to see what I could find.

And here, for my adventurous Trail Heads friends, are a few accounts of hilarious death and disorder that will be sure to entertain:

Hiking: Yosemite hiker with sore feet

Canoeing: Hurricane Blumpkin runs the rapids

Camping: What's under the hood matters (Honorable mention)

Biking: Airport no place for a bike

Skiing: Don't steal the foam padding

Snowboarding: Washed out on Rainier

Snowmobiling: The snowmoboater

And my all-time, pee-your-pants favorite Darwin Award (even though it only merited an Honorable Mention, i.e. the guy lived)... Lawn Chair Larry!

Finally, in the Can-You-Top-This? category: The flying lawn chair

Hump day tomorrow! Make it a good one. But please don't do a Darwin!

Hey mountain bikers: Guess what?

The state no longer wants you and your kind riding in the Bigelow Preserve!

Yes, that's right. A new management plan for the preserve has been approved and mountain biking is out. O-U-T, out.

Mountain bikers will no longer be able to enjoy this fine view along Stratton Brook Pond in the Bigelow Preserve now that the state has banned this disturbing recreational mode.
Carey Kish photo

The new plan "commits to good stewardship of competing recreational opportunities... while making the public lands available to enjoy."

Except, of course, if you happen to be a mountain biker.

The Bigelow Preserve was established by referendum vote in 1976 to "set aside land to be retained in its natural state for the use and enjoyment of the public."

Except, of course, if you happen to be a mountain biker.

Under the new plan timber harvesting will continue. So will snowmobiling. In fact, it appears that all existing uses will be allowed going forward.

Except, of course, if you happen to be a mountain biker.

Are you starting to sense a common thread here?

Good.

"One concern was the increased use of mountain bikes," said Kathy Eichenberg, coordinator for something (I can't discern from the article). "In recent years, mountain bikers, often from connecting from outside recreational trails have unofficially been using woods roads and trails and disturbing traditional uses."

Well, I officially think that's a lot of crap.

Imagine... Timber harvesting and snowmobiling are OK (uses which I wholeheartedly support by the way), but mountain biking is "disturbing" these other uses.

Huh?

You've got to be kidding me, right?

No joke, my nasty, dirty, unwanted mountain bike friends and neighbors.

The blather dithers on: "For folks who are concerned, the Preserve will not be overrun with pressures to have more snowmobile and mountain bike trails."

Uh, correction. Make that NO mountain bike trails. And NO mountain bikes.

This is crap. Honest to goodness crap.

Where was the public process surrounding this plan and these issues? Even mountain biking advocates regularly "in the know" on such topics are stunned at this outcome.

That's not good.

So we must ask our dear friends at the state who've apparently gone off the edge of the trail, so to speak, on this matter: What the heck were you thinking?

How does mountain biking NOT fit with the recreational plan for Bigelow? Many of us have been riding these trails for years, with no incident, no disturbance (except for the occasional moose--ban them perhaps?), no problems.

How exactly does a mountain bike disturb traditional uses? Please tell me.

How did mountain biking suddenly become such a significant problem that it needed to be banned?

When did mountain bikers cease to rate when it comes to the "use and enjoyment by the public"?

This is outrageous. And the mountain biking community deserves answers. And a change in this policy.

It gives me pause, I must say, that the state would do this. I thought we were supposed to be wary of the likes of Roxanne Quimby when it came to restricting access to lands?

Are you a mountain biker? What's your take on this?

Willing seller meets willing buyer. Negotiations ensue. A transaction takes place. Real estate changes hands. A deal is done.

Happens every day in Maine. No biggie, right?

Most of the time not.

Until the buyer is Roxanne Quimby, noted millionaire of Burt's Bees fame, and now budding conservationist.

Using her wealth Quimby has purchased at least one entire Maine township and a number of other large parcels of land, much of it in the vicinity of Baxter State Park.

And just yesterday we hear that she has purchased 4,900 additional acres in two separate deals east of the park.

Some folks think this a good thing. Others don't.

There have been concerns that Quimby has or will restrict access to her lands, potentially impacting uses that are considered "traditional": hunting, snowmobiling and the like.

I did note that on one map of her lands I saw that the parcels are labeled "sanctuaries."

Interesting. What might that imply?

Others hail the idea of locking up lands and preserving them for posterity itself, human uses a secondary consideration, if at all.

Where do you stand?

Quimby, as a private landowner, is free to do with her land as she wishes, within the bounds of good sense and the law.

That's just the way it is, like it or not. And it's something to consider when it comes to Plum Creek, another private landowner of note.

Like it or not...

Last Friday's hike started out pretty much just as it had for the prior 14 days: Hoist the pack onto the back, strap on the camera, grab the trekking poles, and head on up the trail.

Hiking the last couple miles of the Cohos Trail. That's Canada up ahead on the ridgetop.
Carey Kish photo

But the finish to the day a few hours later would be anything but normal.

Because when I walked out of the woods early that afternoon, lo and behold, there were about 50 people gathered at the US-Canada border station at Pittsburg, New Hampshire! It was quite a heartwarming sight after 162 miles and 15 days of trudging along on the magnificent route that is The Cohos Trail.

Officials from a number of northern New Hampshire towns, several Canadian towns, members of The Cohos Trail Association, the Sentiers frontaliers, news media from both countries, various and sundry trail supporters, and members of the public turned the scene into quite a celebration.

An international party at the US-Canada border crossing, Pittsburg, NH.
Photo courtesy Carey Kish

And we all had much to celebrate!

Besides my completing the Cohos Trail fundraising thru-hike, Canadian hiker Eric Lacoursiere had also just completed walking the 80 km of the Les Sentiers Frontaliers, a new and mostly complete hiking trail extending thru Canada from the border at Coburn Gore, Maine to Pittsburg, NH. And by doing so the two trails have been conceptually and physically linked, thereby creating a continuous 220-mile long hiking route, a monument to international cooperation.

Additionally, thanks to dozens of generous donors, something close to $2,000 was raised for The Cohos Trail and its mission to complete, maintain and improve the trail.

If you'd like to make a $$$ gift to support The Cohos Trail and this hike you can still do so. Send to: The Cohos Trail Association, c/o Peter & Lainie Castine, 266 Danforth Road, Pittsburg, NH 03592.

And that's just a start.

I say that because through the extraordinary dedication and perserverance of TCTA and its leadership I believe we have, through this hike and the associated public relations campaign, generated a new and considerably higher level of awareness of this tremendous recreational resource called The Cohos Trail. And that, I trust, will pay big dividends as this trail moves forward toward completion in the near future.

It's an exciting trail project that I'm betting you too will want to be a part of in some way big or small.

That's me on the left and Kim Nilsen, Cohos Trail visionary on the right. Lainie Castine, secretary/treasurer of The Cohos Trail Association, presented us each with CT cribbage boards that she custom made herself.
Lainie Castine photo

Cohos Trail founder Kim Nilsen leads us up the border swath toward Fourth Connecticut Lake after the gathering.
Carey Kish photo

The official end of the Cohos Trail at tiny Fourth Connecticut Lake, the source of the mighty Connecticut River, high on the US-Canada border.
Carey Kish photo

My two-week experience was an incredible one and, as you might well imagine, I've got plenty of tales to tell. But first (yes, I've taken a shower, thank you very much!), I still need to unload the car, sort out the gear, do some laundry and so forth before I get to story-telling...