45: Seminal Moment

Beals Island, Maine

B E A L S  I S L A N D,  M E

Leaving Mount Desert Island we enter Downeast Maine.  “Downeast” is a loosely defined term with no certain boundaries.  The best description is that the further up the coast toward Canada you go the more Downeast you are.  After leaving MDI, Downeast is where all things touristy are left behind. 

We’re on the way to our furthest destination: Washington County Maine.  It’s the country’s eastern-most county and it borders Canada.  To get here we follow US Highway 1, one of America’s most historic roads, nearly to its end.  Back in 2011, I followed US 1 to its southern terminus in Key West; now I’m nearing its northern terminus.  But up here in Downeast it’s a pretty neglected stretch of historic highway - quite bumpy and weather-battered. 

Throughout this trip, I’ve forewarned Allison that Beals Island is going to be pretty remote and potentially haggard.  Upon arriving, I find that my description is spot on.  Beals is a working man’s town.  Lots of lobstering.  The house I reserved for the night is waterfront, but all around are stacks of lobster traps and related haphazard piles of gear.  The house only has minor bits of renovation; otherwise, it’s straight out of the early ‘70s.  It’s uncomfortably unpretentious at best, but we're here for the hiking, not the lodging.  

Adding a twist though, is the omnipresent fog.  At mid-afternoon the soup is already here, sure to only get worse as night moves in.  And another twist: Allison starts recounting concerns she’s finding on the internet about tomorrow’s hike on Great Wass Island:

Stern warnings about avoiding the property in fog.  YOU WILL GET LOST.

Areas of the trail that even when fogless might be hard to follow. 

And that the hike takes longer than you think due to the rough terrain. 

I’m beginning to feel a wrenching in my gut.  Is momentum building toward the cancellation of the most anticipated hike in Maine? 

To break the gloom, I suggest we go see Town Park, a small municipal common that looks to have some benches near the water away from the haggardness.  My hope is that this little excursion will reset us. 

At Town Park, we do, in fact, find a nice bench and enjoy the views for quite some time.  Perhaps the tide of our gloom is starting to turn.  Next we head to the Jonesport Pizza Shop.  Essentially, it’s just a shabby old country store that has a pizza oven in back.  The tide continues turning: the pizza is delicious, as is the Old Milwaukee to wash it down.  The mood lightens.  We’re starting to crack jokes again, and one is about the cost of our meal.  Total bill for pizza and beer: $8.65, less than the tip at most other places we’ve eaten.  

After dinner, we suck it up and snuggle into our outdated rental house.  Despite our concerns though, we both actually sleep quite well.  But the biggest turn comes when we look out the window in the morning: the fog is gone and the sun is poking over the horizon.  It’s the most welcomed sunrise I can ever remember. 

I step out with my camera gear while Allison wakes up.  The softly lit sunrise images are amazing and become some of the best photos from this entire trip to Maine.  When properly composed to exclude the haggardness, you realize just how beautiful the geography is here on this island.  Between a surprisingly good night’s sleep and the turn in the weather, all of a sudden we have a fondness for our stay in Beals.  Yes, it’s remote and haggard, but those qualities now enhance the memories we’ve built here.

The sun has brought a burst of energy.  We pack the car and say goodbye to our one night stand.  Before leaving, I blend up a fresh blueberry and peach smoothie for us.  We need some quality nourishment before setting out on a very challenging hike today.   

***

To get to Great Wass Island Preserve you must head to America’s eastern-most county then turn south off US Highway 1 at the big blueberry in Columbia Falls.  Follow that road to nearly its end after it crosses over onto an island projecting out to sea further than any Downeast landmass.  At its tip, the extremely high tides of the Bay of Fundy meet the Gulf of Maine.  I’ve always been attracted to geographic extremes and Great Wass is just that: far to the east, far out to sea, and with far more intense tides than just about anywhere else in the world. 

On the outlying end of the Great Wass (to which there are no trails) is dramatic tectonic evidence.  A straight line of sheer cliffs mark the southern end of this island.  A fault running 300 miles from the Bay of Fundy to New Hampshire has shaved this island’s shoreline in a distinctly straight line, plainly visible from satellite imagery.   

Thriving in the cool, humid oceanic climate of this 1,600-acre landmass are some oddly named plants: beach head iris, bird’s eye primrose, bake-apple berries, deer-hair sedge, and dragon’s mouth orchids.  It’s also attractive not just to hikers, bear, and oddly named plants; harbor seals come ashore here after feasting in the highly productive marine ecosystem surrounding this island.  

We arrive at the trailhead parking lot just ahead of Allison’s guardian angels.  Two locals pull in behind us and are about to hit the trail.  They’re talkative and give us their experienced overview of what to expect on the trail.  They appease some on Allison’s trepidations, especially with respect to a new threat: bears.  A sign warning visitors that bear have been spotted on the island is tacked to a tree at the trailhead.  Simply knowing now that we’re not the only hikers on this isolated island has settled Allison a little.

We set out and one thing is immediately clear – the terrain here changes quickly.  The trail begins among tall trees but soon turns up a short, steep climb to a more-open plateau of stunted jack pine and dense underbrush.  The openness is welcomed but short lived as we re-enter tall trees again where the forest floor is ablaze with a variety of multi-colored mosses, mushrooms, ferns, and berries.   After a time we see water through the trees.  The trail loosely parallels the shoreline, albeit back a hundred yards or so.  From the trail, we are tempted to veer off course toward the water’s edge but stay disciplined knowing better views come later at Mud Hole Point.  The wonderful smells of fir and spruce abound.  Mixed in are musty smells of decaying vegetation and moist soil that are found universally in all forests.  We hike joyously onward up and over the sharp undulations of this beautiful trail. 

About the time we need a break we arrive at Mud Hole Point.  We step out onto the wide-open rocky edge of the island affording sweeping views toward the long, narrow, fjord-like tidal cove we just paralleled for a half-mile.  In the other direction is a wide pristine bay leading out into the Atlantic.  Our efforts have paid off.  Arriving here at this amazing sun-drenched vantage point has put an incredible capstone atop this adventure to Maine.  Between the planning, the driving, the spending, the lodging choices, the physical efforts, and the weather worries, everything has come in for a perfect landing here at Mud Hole Point.  The seminal moment of the entire trip is right here, right now. 

Mud Hole Point, Great Wass Island Preserve, Beals, Maine

We wander about and bake slowly in the sun upon the warm rocks of the shoreline.  The views and the isolation are remarkable, but equally remarkable is the realization of our accomplishment.  It’s been a long journey to get here capped off by a challenging hike, but clearly worth the effort.  The awareness that Mud Hole Point is one of the very few most-beloved places I have ever set foot upon is immediately apparent.  Move over Grand Canyon, Rocky Mountain National Park, and Thingvelir Iceland; you need to make room for Mud Hole Point.

Toward the end of our two-hour point break, I notice the tide moving in. Mud Hole is re-filling swiftly.  In a few hours, she’ll be completely full.  I too have been filled here at Great Wass Island - filled with incredible memories of stunning imagery and an intense feeling of complete satisfaction. 

When we reach the parking lot and begin thinking about the long, LONG ride home, we encounter the angels again.  They’ve finished their hike too.  We exchange a few courtesies then set out, but apparently to the same destination.  Twenty minutes later we all laugh when we see each other again at the only spot on the way out that serves milkshakes – the ultimate hike-ending treat for me.  But this milkshake not only celebrates Great Wass; it’s a toast to Maine’s corner-of-the-country location, geographic extremes, amazing scenery, and guardian angels all that have performed magnificently well.   

LEARN MORE ABOUT TNC’S WORK AT GREAT WASS HERE.