Kayaking the Maine Coast. August 2011

"The Sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever."
— Jacques-Yves Cousteau

These entries are from kayaking through Cape Porpoise near Kennebunkport Maine.

Cape Porpoise. August 9, 2011.

 I 'put in' the kayak just after high tide on pier road near Porpoise Bay of Kennebunkport, Maine.  It's a clear, sunny day.  In the protected bay, the winds are calm, giving the water's surface a smooth sheen and making it a comfortable paddle.  But outside the barrier islands, the surf beats the rocks with such spectacular force that you have to stare with awe the same way one would a highway accident.  All together, it's a great day to explore.  I spend most of my time on one of the barrier islands.

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Facing due east toward the barrier islands

 

Surf along the lighthouse on Goat Island

Seals sunning themselves on rocks off shore from Goose Rocks beach

Outside the bay, there are buoys of lobster pots littering the spaces between the barrier islands. Several lobster boats serviced the myriad of pots that pervaded the area.  Busy people. They take little notice of me.

Lobstermen pulling pots.

The islands that surround cape porpoise are protected by agencies that monitor and regulate their use. On them are several campsites offering expansive views of the bay, elusive wildlife and an appreciation for the forces that create these landmarks of the Maine coast. 

The visited island with campsites

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South campsite overlooking open ocean

 The only good kayak landing place around the whole island 

viewing an island from the bay

West campsite overlooking the bay

view from west campsite on one barrier island viewing the poplular Goose Rocks beach in the distance

trail leading to the west campsite

Jagged rocks, turbulent surf, tidal pools, and seals are the setting.

Day 2 was overcast, but sun or no sun, the meeting of land and sea always offers a unique setting.

Um....what hell is that? (New structure on Goat Island near the lighthouse)

Where the bay meets the open ocean

Snaking through the patches of sea grass

Evidence of how high the tide can get.

The following is a montage of video I took of Cape Porpoise, the island I explored, and the wildlife I encountered.

Planning the kayaking around the tides is somewhat important for getting the kayak in and out of the water more easily.   This day, despite my best intentions, I completely ignore my tide tables and explored the island a bit too long......

August 10th.6PM

Tonight I put in right before sunset.

As the light from the sunset faded, it was replaced by the whiter glow from that of the moon.  The lighthouse, still glowing from the last light of the setting sun now turned on it's warning beacon as it does every night.  What's amazing is that even though the glow of the full moon provides enough light to guide me through the bay, I still can see the faint green glow of the bioluminescent algae which gets churned up in the wake of the kayak and from the agitation of my paddles.  Sorry. I couldn't get that on camera.  The camera on hand wasn't THAT good. It struggled to capture the necessary light to take THESE shots, but click on them and you'll get an idea of how enchanting this paddle was.

The weather clearing from the north

What a cool boat.  Solid. Beautiful wood trim. Not ostentatious, but big enough for longer trips. Room for a strong dingy.

Wood masts.  Nice.

Goat Island lighthouse and the moon at dusk

A trail of reflected light draws across the water in the direction of the glowing moon

Homes on the edge of a protected bay within Cape Propoise. 

Goat Island lighthouse in its evening glory.

I would be remiss if I did not thank my high school friend Helena and her husband Craig for allowing me to stay at their summer home in Kennebunkport, Maine and for safely housing my kayak  so that I may again paddle in the waters of the Maine Coast that I have so enjoyed for years. Thanks.

Mountain Biking 10 miles inside "Lost Valley" in Missouri

An amazing 2^nd day of summer in MO….76 deg.  Breezy, bright and sunny. Mountain biked into this hidden gem called Lost Valley outside the suburbs of St. Louis. German settlers built 3 towns out here until 1940. Then the US government took the land and built a sprawling weapons plant which is now gone.

 Nothing is left of either, but one can find misplaced remnants of the original town. They are pieces of civilization left behind like this lone utility pole couched between crowded trees or isolated beds of farmland in the middle of the deep woods which, strangely, somebody still cultivates regularly.   An 18 mile mountain bike trail traverses through this isolated valley.

 This small swampy pond  provides the variations of wildlife activity throughout the seasons….snakes and rodents scurry in the summer, large deer bucks wading in the fall when they, rub their antlers on the dead tree stumps….fawns and yearlings in the summer. All seasons one can always can see a hawk or an occasional owl hunting from the tree tops.

                                 

Pacified Man Made Disaster

Quietly resting at the crossroads of those extinct towns of “Lost Valley” is this obelisk-like mountain.  Perfectly symmetric in its carefully engineered construction, it quietly towers above a vast rural landscape with little fanfare.  A small metal building housing an “interpretation center” tells the sordid story of ofvwhat happened here.   The mountain is a huge man-made structure constructed as part of our government’s “Superfund” program.  Apparently, under it, lies tons of equipment, contaminated soil, buildings and whatever hazardous material was scooped up from decades of hazardous weapons manufacturing.  Adorned with stairs and an observation platform, you can walk up to its top. From the top, I can see more of the surrounding area than I can anywhere else in this mostly flat middle-American locale.  Cool.

 I was assured by a guide at the interpretation center that due to the shielding material in the mountain,  I would absorb less radiation on top of the structure than I would on natural ground. My more compliant half assumes they know, or knew, what they are/were doing.  But, the cynical engineer in me questions that after observing little radiation monitoring devices placed throughout the site.  Either way, I spend as little time near it as my curiousity will allow.

I’m almost waiting to ride over an abandoned ICBM silo on my next ride.  I’ll let you know……