One More Island Post

If you've ever been out to the Island, you've seen initials and names carved in the building from everybody and their brother.  Some of them are actually pretty old, which is neat.  On the corner by the porch swing, though, there's another kind of graffiti of which, at this point, I know neither the origin or the meaning. 

Someone, at some point, nailed the numbers "194" and a symbol that looks vaguely like the Appalachian Trail logo into the log ends:

From the placement, it looks like the 194 should have been a date, with one more number at the end.  I don't know what the AT or TA might represent.

On the opposite corner of the porch, the initials C.A.D. were nailed into another log end.

Everyone loves a good mystery.  Once I figure this one out, I'll (of course!) let you know.

The Island Renovation

As promised: pictures of the completed loft on the Island! 

We also put up the new cedar mantle, which dresses the fireplace up nicely.  We'll have to find a big piece of artwork to put above it:

I really can't thank the guys enough for doing a great job on the cabin so far.  (I'm tempted to move out there myself...)  We have a few more projects to take care of in the future over there (some new cabinetry, a bathroom renovation, etc), but at this point, I think we're ready to move on to rehabilitating Togue.  You know I'll keep you posted on that progress as well!

Satellite Internet

Sorry for the silence; we're having a little trouble with our HughesNet internet connection, so we've been offline for the past few days.  I'm actually writing this from Shin Pond as my alter ego is on its way to Virginia for a meeting and then back to Maine for my cousin's wedding this weekend.  We'll either get the satellite fixed just as soon as I get back, or we'll order a whole new dish.  I did get on the roof this afternoon, drained some water from the feedhorn (probably the result all of the driving rain we've had this spring), and very slightly re-adjusted the dish.  No luck yet- our signal did improve, but we're still not connected.  Our weather has been great for the past few days, but I've read that our connection can also be affected by, among other things, the weather at HughesNet headquarters in Germantown, MD.

Part of me is hoping that, since our problem cropped up randomly the other morning, it's the result of a problem with HughesNet itself that will spontaneously resolve while I'm gone.  (Hey, I'm an optimist.  How can I be anything else with this weather??)

More updates to come over the next few days as I travel.  We finished the loft on the Island, so you know I'll post photos!

Wild and Native Brook Trout on Google Earth

A good friend of Red River pointed me toward a great Google Earth application from the Maine Council of Trout Unlimited.

TU's Maine Brook Trout Waters Interactive Map lets users zoom into any water in the state to find out if it's a wild or native fishery.  (Notice that the majority of the ponds in the Deboullie township are native or wild brook trout fisheries; only Perch, Mud, and South Little Black don't carry either designation.)  The application also gives access to additional information such as size, maximum depth, etc, as well as photos and other cool features.

You'll need Google Earth to access the application; it's definitely worth a look.

I'm Not a Runner.

I've always been one of those people who will only run for one of two reasons: either I'm chasing something or something is chasing me.  Running for its own sake or for the sake of fitness never made sense to me.  Until now.

Before I made the migration from Virginia to Maine this year, I bought a pair of Vibram Five-Finger TrekSport shoes.  Those are the funny ones that look like gloves for your feet- I had both a coupon and a gift card to use, so why not give them a shot?

My completely unbiased opinion is that I adore running in these shoes.  My feet naturally react to rocks and obstacles (instead of feeling like I'm wearing a plank on each foot).  I'm a lot less worried I'll catch a toe on a stray root, and even my stride has changed.  I just feel light in them- they really do feel close to barefoot while still protecting for the soles of my feet.  (I've stepped on some pretty sharp rocks in them without a problem.)  In short, running in these shoes makes me feel like a kid again, and it's a lot of fun.

The first time I finished a run around Island Pond (although there was just as much walking as running because of all the water on the trail), I immediately wanted to turn 180 degrees and run back around the other way just for the sheer joy of it.  I can tell you truthfully- that's never happened before.  I've now run the Island Pond trail several times, the trail to Upper, the old road up to the cluster of Black Ponds, and the trail to the Deboullie rock slide.  Who knows, maybe I'll even try a run on the mountain before the summer is over.

Serendipity

Serendipity follows me wherever I go, along with its little sister, Coincidence.  I've been somewhat accurately described as living at the junction of lives; it almost doesn't matter where I am, I either bump into someone I know, or I get talking to someone and find out that I went to the same high school as their nephew, or something equally as random.  I think it's genetic, because it happens to my mother as well, and now I think it's also contagious.

For instance, we have three parties here in Camp this week.  (I'll call them Groups #1, 2, and 3.)  They booked at different times; they're from different cities; and they should have nothing in common.  When Group #1 arrived a couple of days ago, we got talking to them and happened to ask how they heard about us.  It turns out that they first heard about Red River from a lady who works at their eye doctor's office, who just happens to be the wife of one of the members of Group #2.

Tonight, as Groups #1 and 2 were eating together in the dining room, a few members of Group #3 walked onto the dock to go fishing.  One member of Group #2 turned to the other and said, "don't those guys look just like..." and proceed to name off exactly who they were.  Serendipity struck again, and it turns out that the members of Group #3 (who are all family members) grew up diagonally across the street from the members of Group #2.  They hadn't seen each other in 20 years.

So, unbeknownst to us, this week has become one giant reunion.  Serendipity is either contagious or it flows in the waters of Red River.

Happy Solstice!

So from here on out, our days just get shorter and shorter!  (It's a little sad to think about it that way, isn't it?)

There's not much of note happening up here in the woods- we have quite a few new faces in Camp right now; the trails are all still wet; and blackfly season is in full swing.  So I'll leave this post short and sweet, and I'll end on a couple of pictures of our latest sunset of the year.

A Brief History Lesson

I promise this will be the last post about the Island for a week or so.  I didn't have a picture of the completed end wall over the fireplace when I wrote last night's blog post, so here it is:

The left-hand window hasn't been trimmed in pine yet, but I like the contrast so much that, once it is, I'm going to stain them both a darker walnut color to match the beams.  Everything else will just receive a clear coat to protect it from darkening too quickly.

I've been asked about the cabin's history as a dance hall, which I mentioned in my last post.  To be honest, I don't know much of that history myself, but from what I do know, prior owners (back around the turn of the last century, when the camp was still private) moved a piano out there over the ice one winter.  Over the summer, when friends and acquaintances would stay for weeks at a time, they held dances and other social gatherings on the Island.  As far as I know, the fireplace is original to the cabin, but I don't know if the loft is as well.  I wouldn't be surprised if the original floor plan was completely open (better for dancing), and the loft was a later addition as the cabin was renovated to accommodate sleeping and cooking.

I also don't know what ever happened to the piano; I assume it came back across the pond some subsequent winter.

The Island Renovation, and a Confession

More pictures of the Island ceiling, fireplace, and loft.  I can't tell you how much I'm in love with how this brightens up the inside of the cabin.  I'm itching to get the mantle installed and to lay the hardwood in the loft, but this is such a great, great start to bringing the cabin back to its former glory.  (I have no plans to use it as the dance hall it once was, but it would be a nice one!)  The end wall in the loft isn't finished yet, but once it is, I have a feeling it's going to be just like a tree fort up there; the lighter ceiling really helps draw your eye out to the windows.  The bathroom renovation will probably have to wait for next year, since we have some important mainland upgrades to do this year as well.  One step at a time.

And now, the confession.  I was trying to figure out last night why I'm so stressed about my guide's test to the point where I fear it more than I feared the 8-hour, 40% failure-rate Professional Engineer's exam, and I think I finally landed on the answer.

I'm terrified of being a fraud.

I grew up right here every summer, about as deep in the middle of the woods as you can get.  I vividly remember one day when I was four or five, I was walking up to the laundry room on the top of the hill in a little blue-and-white striped dress, and I was thinking to myself how I lived the most amazing life of anyone I knew, and that I had better well appreciate each day that I was so lucky to spend here.  That four or five year old gave me better advice in that one day than several other years of my life gave me combined, and I have indeed remembered to stop every now and then to just appreciate what my life has been graced with.  That being said, the wise child turned into a fairly normal teenager who turned into a very busy adult. I didn't use every teaching experience I could have as I grew up; I didn't turn every question into an answer; I didn't identify every bird I heard singing; and I didn't focus on being the person that I now think I should be.

In July, I'm going to be tested on those unanswered questions, those birdsongs, and those experiences I had but may not have recognized.  As foolish as it is, I've turned this one test into an affirmation of my entire life in the woods: whether I deserve to be here at Red River or whether I'm just playing house while my parents are away.  Unlike the PE exam, this test isn't just for work.  It's for everyone who, if I fail, will look at me and wonder what I've done with that sage advice I gave myself all those years ago.  And it's for me, who will ask the same question.

Still Wet.

Yes, siree… I said it yesterday, and I’ll say it again. When it rains, it pours. We had six downpours today, with halfway decent weather in between:

My poor-man's rain gage (a water glass on the porch railing) tells me that we got at least another inch today. The last time I was out at the rock pile, the water over the big rock (which usually sits less than four inches below the surface) was up past my elbow, and it's certainly higher now than it was then. Still, I'll take this over last summer's dry weather any day.

Besides, how can you argue with a day that gives you something like this when it's over?

It was the most spectacular double-double rainbow I've seen in a long time.  The main rainbow ran through the color spectrum twice, and there was a double above it.  Wow.  (The camera didn't capture it as well as I'd hoped.)  [After looking at the picture below a little closer, my double-double rainbow is actually a double-TRIPLE rainbow!  I brought out the colors a little in Photoshop, and you can just faintly see a third band of purples below the second.]

In other news, the Island renovations are still in progress!  We got half of one end wall done, and it looks spectacular so far.  I can't wait to get it finished and get the new cedar mantle in place.

And here's a comparison of the new wall to the old wall. What do you think?

I'm back!

A thousand apologies for the long absence.  I had to take a trip to Florida for a very dear friend's wedding, and my alter ego had to make a week-long stop in Virginia.  When I got back, there were a million things to take care of, and the weather has made sure that our internet connection has been spotty.

I know.  Excuses, excuses.

There isn't much new going on up here at Camp, so I'll just do a quick round-up of interesting stuff.

First off, I finally got the new date for my guide's license oral exam.  I have until July 21 to do all the studying I'm going to do.  At 4:00 that afternoon, I'll be standing in front of a table of experts down in Augusta sweating bullets while trying to sound calm, collected, and knowledgeable.  (I'm going to hope for the best but prepare for the worst; that tactic usually seems to work pretty well.)

Our weather has been wet, wet, and more wet.  We've had plenty of sunny days, but when it rains, it pours.  This afternoon, right after I snapped the picture below, we got about an inch in fifteen minutes.  Before and after, the weather was great.  I've run the trail around Island Pond a couple of times since I got back from Virginia, and it's like training for a triathlon- half the time, I'm running, and the other half, I may as well be swimming.  Unfortunately, we did get a perfect storm of cloudy days and mountains of laundry last week, and we had to turn the generator on for a few hours to get everything done.  (All told, though, turning it on once a month isn't too bad!)

We did have an interesting phenomenon the other day that I can't yet explain.  Sunday morning, we looked out the front window of the lodge to see seven goldeneye ducks flying around one of the large pine trees on the other side of the pond.  I was surprised, since I hadn't seen more than the one pair of goldeneyes all spring; I'm not sure where the rest came from.  They took turns perching in the tree and examining/entering a cavity about 40 feet up.  Goldeneyes are tree-nesters, so we first assumed there must be a predator going after the eggs/ducklings, but we didn't see anything else emerge from the cavity.  Then we thought that maybe the ducklings were getting ready to take their first big leap of faith, but we didn't see any ducklings emerge, either.  The flock of adults flew around for a solid hour without any indication that anything else was going on, so if we see ducklings in the near future, I'll be sure to post pictures.  Otherwise, it'll just remain a mystery.

So that's the scoop on my extended absence; I'll try to get back into the swing of the blog now!  It's good to be back.