July 7, 2025

It’s walkies time. Got to catch the 8:50 bus to Eagle Lake Trail. The first thing I do when I wake up is lean over and look at the pilothouse clock. This is to confirm if I need to roll over and sleep for another hour or get up and face the day. 

The night before a scheduled bus trip Charlotte begins to exhibit bus-missing anxiety. So, I am primed to make sure we get up in time to wash, dress, eat and put the engine on the dinghy, and of course, for Charlotte to do Wordle.

 

This morning I leaned over and pronounced it was 7:50 and this meant in our present long retired state, we could never be ready in time. But in a futile attempt, I made coffee as Charlotte rushed to ready herself until she discovered it was 7:00 not 8:00. So, let’s go hiking!

 

We have been driving pass Eagle Lake while on the way to Bar Harbor for a decade. Each time we say to each other that it looks like a flat trail around a beautiful lake. This year Charlotte took it on as a project. I am assured that other than a slight elevation change (a couple of hundred feet) it will be an easy slog on a well maintained carriage road. 

 

The last time we walked six miles was probably six years ago, but I kept my consul. Between us we have at least four suspect joints. You know, the ones that need to be lubricated each morning with gentle stretching and multiple refrains of, “It sucks getting old.”

 

The first half of the hike was on a Carriage Road. I should explain what one is for those unfamiliar with Mount Dessert Island and Acadia National Park. John D. Rockefeller Jr., the prototype for a despotic billionaire, built forty five miles of fine gravel roads between 1913 and 1940 to ride his horse on. Despotic or not, the roads, gates, bridges and buildings are beautifully crafted from local granite. They were designed not to interfere with the landscape and I admit they succeeded.

 

The one concern as we started our walk, a bit beyond halfway there is a steeper section that leads to Connors Nubble which is close to 600ft. This was to be avoided, so the plan was to take the Eagle Lake Trail the last 3 miles. Now this is a trail and in Maine terms it is rated at mild. For flatlanders like ourselves “mild” in Maine is a euphonism for be beware. This trail follows the west rim of the lake, which turned out to be a mile and a half of large (and small) granite rubble collapsed from the cliffs above.

 

The trail began root bound and lead into a boardwalk made of half sawn trees balanced on other rickety half sawn logs. I began to ask if we should backtrack and take the boring but easy way to the bus stop. Charlotte carried on and lucky for us we remembered to bring both tungsten tipped carbon fiber walking sticks. As the trail approached the lake shore it devolved into a 1.2 mile boulder field that challenged our suspect joints and balance.

 

Of course, we met young strapping males and younger families with newborns lofted high on their father’s backs in Formula One type seats. They were without concern as they skipped across the trail while we groveled amongst the stones. Charlotte deserves credit. She barely uttered a foul word except to tell passersby to get off the trail.

 

Eventually, as the trail peeled off from the shoreline, it flattened out and became cushioned by a carpet of lovely amber pine needles. Once back on the carriage road, we had another two miles of a gently rising trail which finally descended into the parking lot and bus stop.

 

A look at the bus schedule meant another hour to wait for the return bus, so we hitched a ride to Bar Harbor (the opposite direction) in search of ice cream. As we walked into town I saw the distinctive vehicle of a friend from the harbor and flagged it down. We had a fun trip back to the boat, all the while lamenting our sore muscles and reveling at the fact that we had hiked six miles!

 

We were back on Carrie Rose by 2:30, just in time for a pre shower espresso. By four we were back on board sitting in our favorite places. An ice pack sat comfortably on my left knee as I contemplated dinner. Again, Charlotte stepped up and declared dinner would be the never before attempted zucchini fritters. 

 

It was the end to a successful day: 3:45 minute six mile walk without a crisis, hot showers and fritters without a mess. Now that’s the way to spend a day . . .

Northeast Harbor, ME