Colors of Fall

Part II: Bush Camping

In conclusion of my last post, "Maine Moose", we now take to the skies once more and spend an evening in the great woods. The afternoon was spent moose-spotting and exploring mountain valleys, lakes, and ponds. With the sun beginning to slowly set, realization hits that it's time to find suitable camping grounds. Here are a select group of photos from the remainder of our trip that hopefully capture the sights and sounds.

Vibrant colors reflect up on the undersides of the wings while a schoolboy smile is glued to my face. Which lake to choose as an overnight camping spot is the chatter over the aviation headsets. I adjust the microphone closer to my mouth and point downward to Lower Richardson Lake.

Keith directs the plane overhead of an island home in what is some of the most remote land in the country.

Rapid River is known as one of the best fly-fishing waters East of the Mississippi. We Took To The Woods, a New York Time's bestseller, was wrote at the small cabin you spot at the bend. After three reads, it's interesting to finally see the landscape of which the book was based.

Closing in on Lower Richardson - which will serve as tonight's home.

A soft landing brings us down into a sandy cove. We pull the floats onto shore and begin setting up camp.

Filson plaid & Waders - it's fashion-forward.

It's soon apparent others are on the lake today as well. Late afternoon temperatures begin to bring a cool breeze as a father and son paddle by. I grab my jacket and continue gathering evening firewood.  

The color scheme of the plane and the fall leaves are of one palette. 

Two essentials: My favorite Woolrich shirt-jac and a Filson duffel that's been on multiple adventures.

Cessna cockpit.

Belligerently ignoring the safety sticker, I open the window as we taxi off into the air. I'm admittedly disappointed to be returning to civilization so quickly. This one night camping trip is one of my shortest adventures, but arguably one of the greatest.

I pull into the last scenic outlook on the drive home. A strange feeling comes with knowing an hour ago I was buzzing over these same trees. I've learned there is no view like a birds-eye view.  Here's to planning the next airplane adventure...