Barry and Joyce, friends of friends in Tucson, took us on a hike up Flat Top, the most hiked mountain in Alaska. We had spectacular views and good weather, meaning it didn’t rain on us, but as usual so far, no sun. The trail in some ways reminded me of the Precipice Trail in Acadia National Park, but a little higher with no steps to ease the climb. Both have spectacular ocean and mountain views. On a clear day you can see Denali, but this summer clear days seem rare.

There is something about the light here this past week: soft and heavy and long nearly through the night; long and soft and ineffectual. I find it vaguely depressing, sometimes not so vaguely. An hour of blessed sunshine makes it worse, knowing it will go away and take the mountains and the spectral highlights, the sparkle, with it. The sun, slow to come, always going away, soon. I know I shouldn’t feel this way about the North. I feel guilty about, which doesn’t help any. All the beauty; moose, bears, lakes, mountains, and still snow patches and sometimes glaciers. But the light is just not there, just not right, yet.

There were days during the months we spent in Iceland, worse days, sleet and snow and biting wind, seemingly endless wind, forever wind. But. There wer days of impossibly blue skies and sparkling seas, and brightly painted houses and tall church spires against the blue. It was hopeful light.

The locals swing between apology, “It was beautiful two weeks ago.” to resigned, “if it’s not raining, it’s a good day.” I’m not buying it, yet. I’ve become addicted to sunshine, or at least light with power, light with hope.

I’m writing this in the little village of Hope, and there are patches of sun between rain showers. Hope. Nice name for a town in Alaska.

Precipice Trail in Acadia National Park

There must be a lot of people considering doing the Precipice Trail in Acadia National Park again this summer. From our New Bohemians.net stat numbers it is the most popular outdoor “hike” in America. We loved it. It’s easy as long as you don’t have a fear of heights. Go for it! While you are at it, check our links (left) for adventures of a couple who found Precipice Trail very easy: across the Silk Road, Around Australia, In Search of Shangri-la etc., all by tandem bicycle, 40,000 miles worth.

Joining the crowds after road biking to the top of Cadillac Mountain, about a 1,000 ft climb. When we told curious tourists that we regularly cycle a mountain seven plus times that big in Tucson, their eyes said they thought we were full of it.

The parking lot from the top of the aptly named Precipice trail.

Claire on the Precipice trail; short but brutal.

After the Precipice, we mountain biked the carriage trails built by and for the wealthy. You can still ride a horse or carriage on the well maintained trails with numerous beautiful bridges.

Bar Harbor from the summit of Cadillac Mountain.

Bar Harbor

Huge wild roses grow from sea to summit of Cadillac Mountain.

Thunder Hole. Not much compared to Oregon and Washington blow holes, but obviously very popular hereabouts.

Those darn artists. They make a nice quiet place look so inviting that they end up attracting so many people that the landscape is too full of people to paint anymore! The Hudson River School of painters discovered Mount Desert Island (a dry forsaken place, or a luscious sweet, nobody knows for sure) and took their paintings back to Boston and New York to sell. The rich bought the paintings, and decided it would be a lovely place to take their summer holiday. Soon the quiet farming and fishing villages played host to the “cottages” of the fabulously wealthy of the golden era of capitalism. Then the merely wealthy came to huge “rustic” hotels, and the place has never been the same. Changing antitrust laws, (that Teddy Roosevelt!) and a handful of preservationists, led to large donations to land, and eventually the Federal Government created the first National Park east of the Mississippi in 1919. It is a very heavily visited park, but you only have to walk a few hundred feet into the forest to get your little bit of silence, and it is even possible to have an unshared stretch of rugged shore to yourself as sea birds and lobstermen make for shore in the gathering night. From tidepool to sub alpine it is well worth the visit, if you’re ever Down East.

bob