2 boys and a ham.
Muddah

Sure you can climb on the rocks- what could go wrong?
Muddah

I think it's raining...
Muddah

Calm after the storm
Muddah

Kirk roaming lake Umsaskis
Muddah

The Lilly Bay Way

is one way to reach the Allagash Wilderness Waterway. Of course if you where to call and ask an expert, someone from the North Woods Association, someone with more years in the area than I on earth, that person may offer a different route. But this blog isn’t about “the experts” it’s about me, my family and my friends adventures as we make our way across and thru not only the wild places but life. So with that in mind it would seem only fitting and right that I would shun the advice of a wilderness travel agent and make my own trail albeit perhaps in hind sight the wrong decision to many. We didn’t make it much out of Lilly Bay before Jack’s vehicle (Ford Explorer) was afflicted with what will be known as mishap #1- A flat left rear tire, easily fixed using the combined resources of the 2 vehicles, my jack and his tire iron. With the installation of a less than perfect spare we where soon on our way once more. The plan- leave Newport 2:30 –3:00 am with an estimated arrival time at Churchill Dam at approx 9 am, leaving 2 hours to spare before the gate keeper lets the water flow for an exhilarating canoe ride thru Chase Rapids. Spend the first night along the banks of Long Pond and resuming the river in the morning to a final destination at Round Pond. At 1:30pm after traversing what was believed to be a connecting road, a shortcut, to the main logging road that would deliver us to Churchill Dam it became obvious even to the dim that we missed the 11:00 O-Clock dam opening. To make matters worse and somehow poetic at the same time-within sight of the main road our path was blocked by a washout. Our options where few, 1.) some how turn around in the swamp and go back along the cow path we came or 2.) re-build a bridge and risk a crossing. We chose the latter as any man would. Rather to have your vehicle tumble down an 8’ embankment than tuck your tail and turn back defeated. This would be known as mishap #2. I’d like to say that I led the charge on the rebuilding of the bridge but that honor belongs to the one who earned the nicknamed “Magiever”, Kirk Clark. I was torn between Jacks doubts and my own fear of having to be the first to drive across the rotten logs and haphazard planking, so I was a less than an energetic worker. This would also mark the uncapping of the Black Velvet-the top spun to the truck floor as Jack made his way nervously over the stream. After reaching the Churchill Dam a “new” plan had to be established to take into account the lateness of the day and the reality of not being able to make Long Pond by nightfall. This plan would be simple and would in tale just a short jaunt up the Churchill Dam road and putting in at Umsaskis Lake. Unfortunately the Churchill Dam road wasn’t well marked and we some how made a left onto the Poulin road. That little mishap costs us another hour plus- the only side benefits was a chance meeting at a cabin with someone we named “Sally”. She was a wealth of knowledge and became the source of endless sarcastic remarks and would be tales. Finally the trip is set to begin- we arrived at Umsaskis Lake and the guys dropped me along with the gear to ready the canoes for the shorter trip onto Long Pond. While I was doing that, they where to drop off the pickup vehicle at Round Pond. After I had the canoes loaded and ready I made a pot of coffee and spent the remaining time taking a short hike around the area and inspected some campsites there on the lake. Almost an hour past and Jack and Kirk returned with some grave news- Jack had had what will be referred to as mishap #3. He had a second flat; neither of the tires were repairable and would require us to leave in the morning to buy new sneakers for his explorer. One perfect afternoon and evening along the Allagash is certainly worth the hassles of the trip there and perfect it was. Other than the passing showers the weather couldn’t have been better and not a mosquito to be seen. It isn’t the scenery or the wildlife that struck me first it was the absence of something. Something so insidious so craftily built into our everyday lives we seldom take notice of it-white noise! That hum, that persistent hum of civilization that envelops us all in a monotonous droan that plagues our lives was GONE! I was walking barefoot on a carpet of moss thru a pine forest and could hear my feet strike the ground like thunder. No matter how softly I tried to walk, I could actually hear my feet meet the mossy ground. That my friends is why we come, why we travel and go to such extremes to get here, maybe it isn’t paradise but it beats Boston all ta hell. So, to say the following day was spent on gravel roads looking to replace some tires shouldn’t come as a disappointment. Just the opposite not only did I have a brief look into the world as it should be but I spent many hours with my good friends Jack and Kirk. After replacing both rear tires on Jacks exploder we made the collective decision to hit the trail home. This time coming out in Ashland then route 11 to I95- Kirk and I actually headed to Bar Harbor to meet our families roughing it in a camp ground on the island-they have no idea what they're missing.