I left Acadia National Park last Sunday morning, but not before one last taco dinner.
Followed by a failed fire due to wet wood.
Just wouldn’t stay lit. But the firewood was free. Yep, they provide a generous daily allowance.
So I headed a whopping 25 miles northeast to Lamoine State Park.
Quite a few folks prefer one of Lamoine’s 62 sites as a quiet alternative to the crowds at Acadia and Bar Harbor.
I was impressed with availability of several oceanfront sites as well. Sites 56 – 61 have great views. I was in number 59 which fit my little trailer perfectly.
Meet my neighbors from 58 and 60.
The inland sites are larger, such as 6 and 33, which was huge.
A short trail leads down to the picnic area.
That big mountain in the middle is Cadillac in Acadia National Park.
There is a beach and boat ramp in this area.
It’s only a few miles by water to Bar Harbor.
I offered the boats some tacos but there were no takers.
A new sticker was added to back of the trailer.
I snapped some sunrise photos before leaving on Tuesday morning.
And of the lobster boats awaiting their chances of trapping some “bugs”.
The coast of Maine above Acadia is called “Down East” by the locals and the road, Highway 1, is comprised of a state and federal scenic byway.
I followed it almost 100 miles to the most northeastern state park in the country.
The weather forecast was nasty for Wednesday so upon arriving I walked 74 of the 107 sites right away in the loops nearest me.. Well, right after setting up in site 8.
Yes, the sites here are huge, the largest I have ever seen. Mine was on the tip of a peninsula.
Sites 3, 4, and 7 are big pull-throughs on the bay.
32 and 54 were prime tent sites.
The name Cobscook comes from the Passamaquoddy word meaning “boiling tides:. The average tide is 24 feet and can run to 28 feet.
Tuesday evening I took a picture of my island at high tide.
Wednesday morning was low tide.
And rain.
Lots of it.
It let up a bit in the afternoon so I checked out the rest of the campground. There were more walk-in tent sites along with shelters and lean-to’s for smart campers that want to stay dry.
Sites 102, 116, and 125.
The skies cleared in the evening and a herd of sea kayakers paddled past.
The sun rises here shortly after 4am this time of the year.
I was ready on Thursday morning.
I was on the road before 6am, heading 200 miles west with a touch of north to Lily Bay State Park.
This area is known as the “North Woods” of Maine.
Moosehead Lake is the centerpiece. The largest lake in New England at 40 miles long and 12 miles wide.
There are plenty of lodges and private campgrounds here, a place where moose outnumber people 3 to 1. Would I see one? Maybe.
Lily Bay is 9 miles north of Greenville, the largest town with all the amenities you need.
I had made reservations long ago because this campground fills up. I nabbed number 233. It took all of my trailer backing-up skills to get into this long and twisty site.
See my car? The path to the beach goes off to the right.
Voila!
I am getting pretty good at it.
I walked the campground on Thursday to avoid the Friday crowds.
There are 90 sites, numbered 1-46 and 200-245. Go figure.
For RV’s I liked 211, 219, and 240.
Tenters seemed to get more waterfront sites, like sites 37, 44, 214, and 221.
All three of these parks adhere to the Maine pricing strategy of charging non-residents a 60% premium. $27 instead of $16. The rangers explain this by saying that residents help pay for the parks through their state taxes and deserve a break.
Which is nonsense. Out of state visitors bring ten’s of millions of dollars to local businesses and pay sales taxes on their purchases. Quit the gouging.
Cobscook and Lily Bay have outhouses scattered throughout their campgrounds as well as centrally located bathhouses.
Which reminded me of a fun prank to play on your friends. Sneak down to the outhouse, open the lid, climb down, close the lid and hide inside.
When one of them enters, pop out of the pit like a jack-in-the-box and scream BOOO at the top of your voice. It will scare the you-know-what out of them.
After a small campfire I went to bed.
Early Friday morning I walked down the path next to my site to the beach area.
The playground, dock, and boat ramp are down this way as well.
Momma duck was taking here babies out for a bath.
A deer also strolled by but I wanted to see a moose.
So I headed north a few miles to the small town of Kokadjo.
A very small town with a nice lake.
But no moose. But the signs were promising.
Less than two miles north of town was supposed to be a guaranteed moose spot called Lazy Tom Bog. The road outside of town was dirt and continued that way to Canada.
Found the bog, but no moose.
So I took this photo back in town, thinking it would have to do. I headed back to camp.
About a mile from the campground I saw a big statue of a moose that I did not notice earlier.
Then it moved.
I pulled over.
I stayed near my car and readied my camera.
:Hey Moose” I called out. He ignored me.
“Moosey Moose”. He started turning towards me.
“Yo. Bullwinkle”. Eye contact.
“Do something funny. I want a cool photo”. He looked at me and just lowered his head and started eating.
I begged and pleaded but he just kept on ignoring me. Silly moose, I thought to myself.
I gave up.
I stuck my tongue out at him and blew a raspberry.
He looked up and reciprocated.
Moose have no manners.
Regards,
Greg
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