Katahdin Iron Works

It's been a few years since I had been up to Katahdin Iron Works.

Once upon a time, it was a place where they smelted iron ore and put it on a southbound train. Now, everything is gone except the ghostly ruins of the iron operation, well off the beaten track.

The furnace:

It's private property, but you can access trails that run through it for a fee. Part of the Appalachian trail runs through it- the final brutal stretch before Katahdin know as the 100 mile wilderness.

It's a good place for day hikers to break in new hiking boots, as there are plenty of loops of varying lengths and elevation gain. We hiked up to and along the rim of Gulf Hagas falls, which is kind of the main attraction in the area.

While calling it the "Grand Canyon of Maine" is a bit too grandiose, it is a beautiful spot to dip into the icy cold water and have lunch.

Getting there does require you to ford a knee-deep stream and navigate the big, slippery rocks on the bottom. Hilarity is sure to ensue as someone in your party is bound to have a spill.

Not me, of course. Not this time.

The reward: getting to hike through The Hermitage, one of few old-growth virgin forest left in the North East. Huge old white pines stretch halfway to the sun in this grove.

And, of course, the falls.

Baxter

Some views I positively will never tire of.

Growing up in Maine, I never quite made it up the coast to Arcadia to the national park. The Bostonians, the New Yorkers, the moneyed crowd. That's where they go to part with their money. It just seemed ludicrous to spend time in a beautiful spot criss-crossed with heavily trafficked roads and tour buses and all the headaches that ensued. On one hand, it seems kind of a pity to have such a beautiful place nearby and never go, but I didn't go without nature entirely. We prefered the roads less traveled and spent part of every summer up in Baxter State Park.

True, you won't find a lobster roll for miles and several comforts will be done without. The park is for serious hikers. No buses, no easy access. No ski lifts to take you to the resort on the mountain top for pastries and photo ops. You hike in, you hike out. You nurse your blisters and aches with a beer you smartly stashed in the creek back when you were freshly hitting the trail.

It's a wild, wild place.

While we didn't do a top hike this year, we had a few nice hikes around the park. Some years a peak hike just doesn't work out between the weather and schedules. You need good weather or they close a lot of trails, as once you get above the tree line it gets miserable and dangerous in bad weather. Plus, it requires a really early start. Like, you have to be at the gate of the park before 6am to ensure a parking spot. They strictly limit the number of cars they let in daily, so you have to be there early or be ready to turn around and go home.

Still. It's one of my favorite places to hike. You encounter very few people, and the only sounds you hear aside your footsteps is the rushing of the creek below you and birdsongs. It's marvelous.

It was a bit soggy this day, and we did encounter a handful of people turning back from the treeline because of the weather. We hiked up to that point and were happy to call it a day by Katahdin Stream falls. The further up we hiked, the wetter we got, but I guess this is why I continue to spend money and haul around rain gear.

But the forest floor was amazing. So many varietals of mushrooms and lichens, and the dank good forest smells punctuated by sinus-clearing pine.

The views were a little disappointing, but I'm glad we didn't push for the top. I am optimistic for the hiking prospects of next year.

North

There's something kind of disconcerting about heading up to Northern Maine. I've been making the trip my entire life, and I still get creeped out. During the summer months, where there is an influx of traffic that seems to get worse every year in most of the state, but as soon as you get above Bangor, the highway and streets are eerily empty. No cars, no towns, no people. Just woods. The kind of woods that if you walked 10 feet into them, you could manage to get lost and never be heard from again.

True story: when I was 6, my aunt told me their were dinosaurs living out back in the woods. Even though I knew they were all long dead and fossilized and I wasn't a particularly gullible kid, I totally believed her. They are the kind of woods that can hold a secret.

It's the kind of place where you stop to help the turtles across the road.

Also, rather terrifyingly, moose abound.

Moose are fearless. Their only natural predator are wolves, and there are few of those even in these woods. They do not bat an eye when you stumble upon one, and unlike deer, they will stand their ground and even charge if they think you are a threat. They are also too stupid to be afraid of cars, and they frequently congregate on the sides of the road to lick off rock salt leftover from the winter.

This is why moose hunting is not a sport.

They are quite tasty though. The biggest challenge being to drag something that huge out of the woods, but those who do have a nice freezer full of meat for the winter.

I've only been able to take pictures of the ass ends of deer as they are running away, but you could sit in front of a moose and take pictures until you are bored. They stare at you placidly and stupidly and go about their day.

Oh, and in this part of Maine, you can get on a list with the local game wardens. If someone hits and kills a deer with their car, the warden will call you up to come fetch your roadkill.

So, the creepy factor continues. The town of Millinocket is still desolate and economically depressed. There are more empty houses and full, and it's just quiet in a way it shouldn't be.

Want to buy a house here? 3 bedrooms start at $25,000. You can pay your downpayment with whatever you find under your sofa cushions. You will probably have to commute to work 60 miles each way to Bangor, meaning your gas will cost more than your mortgage.

It's just odd to walk around and encounter almost no one. Despite their being sidewalks, no one actually seems to use them.

Hence the need to leave town and head to the lake, where it's okay that no one else is around.