Remote Maine

My mind was stuck on the framed words that hang above my bookshelf, "Roughly Paved, Infrequently Traveled Roads Lead to Great Destinations", as I packed my 2-man tent and essentials into my hiking bag. The next few days would prove to be one of few fall get-a-ways from work. I idolize moments I can turn off a paved highway, unbuckle my seat belt, and roll down the windows to hear the clank of rocks hitting the metal frame.

It's Friday morning. Our cooler is loaded down with camp foods, carefully chosen from "The Camping Bible". Dust clouds build behind the truck as loose dirt kicks up in an arch behind the rear tires. Casco tilts his head out the window, as if to smell the tops of the pine trees.  He doesn't exactly reach, but he certainly enjoys the fresh air as much as I do.

We arrive to camp in the early afternoon and setup shop. You can spot the old sheet I toss down for Casco, under the vestibule, in case of rain. He can come and go as he pleases.

A beautifully structured log home sits atop a hill overlooking the country hills.

I stand in awe. I've found my dream home perched in remote Maine.

This lone red leaf marks the completion of the fall season.

We spent the afternoon wandering around the mountains and making our way to the waters' edge.


A dock for bush planes stands nearly deserted on a rather warm afternoon. To be a pilot and take in the landscape from a birdseye view is a dream.

Reds and yellows.

Chatting quickly with a bush pilot who just arrived in from Moosehead lake, we get the latest weather outlook.

Backwoods exploration.

This pack of wild turkeys is surely exploring to a higher degree than us.

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Previous Adventures:

Snowy Mountain

Canoe Trip