2015.09.04 – The Milliken Way

The last few days have been exceedingly relaxing. I haven’t had to drive that far. I have been spending time with old friends. It’s been pretty great. Since my mom will be arriving soon, I decided to take one more day to relax and enjoy Maine on my own. Time to head north.

As you can probably guess, I spent a little more time in Commons, writing and snarfing down treats. By mid-day, I had a plan. I needed to head north to Sugarloaf to see Lucas, a Batesie whose impressive ability to forego the perils and pleasures of social media has made him relatively hard to keep track of. I found him after his first week of teaching up at Carrabassett Valley Academy. He showed me around the campus before suggesting that we should go waterfall hunting. Normally, this would involve trails, but we opted to walk up the river until we hit West Mountain Falls. The watery trail also meant I couldn’t bring my camera, so you’ll have to use your imagination. The rocky strewn riverbed wound through a golf course, so we had to hide from golfers every now and then, but did our part by returning many waterlogged golf balls to the fairway. After two hours of slipping and sliding on mossy rocks, we found a deep pool with water flowing into it over a rocky precipice. It was freezing, but undeniably perfect.

We wandered back down the hill, marveling at the Bigelow range illuminated by the afternoon sun. Despite its isolation (or maybe because of it), Carrabassett Valley really does offer an unbelievably diverse outdoor experience. From killer skiing at Sugarloaf to miles and miles of mountain bike trails to superb access to Flagstaff, it really is an outdoor sports mecca. I can see why he is so happy here. I hope one day I can find my own version of this place.

Once we made it back to the school, we picked some basil and whipped up a particularly spicy pesto and spent a few hours reminiscing over dinner. Since it was Friday, we headed down to The Rack, a local ski bar with an overwhelming amount of charm and rustic appeal. From the “ring on a string” game to late night bocce ball, we idled away the evening chatting with other teachers and a few members of local trail crews. Even under the lights of the bar, you could still see the Milky Way snaking across the sky. Places like this remind me why I can’t imagine living in a major city. The stars provide so much perspective on how small the human experience really is. It is difficult to remember that when the city lights blot them out. Take time to remind yourself every now and then.

Tomorrow, I head south, hopefully hitting up a few cliff jumping spots along the way before picking up dinner at Silly’s and grabbing my mom from the airport. Nova Scotia, here we come!