After debate over a get-a-way, I purchased a canoe to spend a quiet week on Maine's historic West Branch of the Penobscot River. With a total paddle distance around 50 miles, we'd break it up evenly, fish the afternoons away and spend evenings at the remote campsites, dotted every few miles along the riverbanks.
We drove in with two vehicles in order to have a pick-up vehicle at the end destination. The long drive in on the Golden Rd., a lonely dirt road only used by log trucks, makes you feel like you've rewound back in time. You can meander down side roads and find abandoned logging camps used earlier in the century. Almost like a sepia-toned flashback (complete with the flickering movie screen).
At our launch spot, we load the canoe up until we fear she might sink and then pull off an armload of firewood. We're in hopes we can scavenge up some scattered wood at each campsite, but better safe than sorry. By the looks of this empty parking lot - it's going to be a quiet, perfect week. I park the truck hop onto the bench in the stern and push us off the bank. Before long we spot our first moose. We're officially off... stay tuned.