Acadia National Park

Quite possibly my new favorite National Park in the US. Funny, I was reluctant to visit it, thinking it might be preposterously crowded. When I worked as the Concierge at Bryce Canyon National Park I talked with a lot of people visiting other national parks out west, and occasionally saw videos of the long lines of vehicles waiting to get into Arches, Yellowstone and Zion. I'd visited all three when they weren't as crowded. In fact, there were only three of us looking at Old Faithful. But then again, there were thirteen foot banks of snow pushed to the side to keep the road open. It was the end of May 1976. No need to go back. It will never be that dramatic again.

Acadia is the only park in the entire northeast and the fourth most visited US park. But they've got traffic control down. There's a one-way two lane loop road with many of the most popular vistas along it. In many parts, parking is allowed in the right lane, so it's not a problem if the parking lots are full. You can still get out and see the attraction. I stopped first at the Visitor Center to buy a post card, get a trail map, advice from the Rangers and a Junior Ranger booklet which would play a part in governing my itinerary. Sometimes there are requirements to attend Ranger programs and that's not always easy. It could require some planning. Acadia had not started their season of presentations yet. An alternative option was to interview a ranger, so I did that. Questions in the booklet can sometimes send you on crazy treasure hunts across many miles, so I also needed to know if I was going to have to book a ferry to get to one of the islands...or what. 

I had chosen to stay at Blackwoods campground at the southern end of the Loop Road. Although I did slow down and consider it, I couldn't find it in my heart to stop at the super crowded attractions like Thunder Hole. The visitor center ranger said there was absolutely no guarantee I'd hear the blowhole roar no matter how long I stood there. I figured I'd find another one in my lifetime. I just now asked ChatGPT where others exist and it told me at some rocks at the Bay of Fundy, which I visited only last and was clueless about the phenomenon. No matter. I saw a lot there. There's a place in Spain I'll visit.

I did get out at a couple different spots along Acadia's coastal loop road to clamber across the beautiful black rocky cliffs and admire the dark sea crashing against the rocks. And crazily, each time I was alone. Colorful wildflowers brightened up the roadsides, including purple and pink lupines growing wild. Too, huge fuschia-purple flowers were blooming on the many rhododendrons. The park borders a couple small towns like Seal Harbor and Bear Brook and you find yourself driving in and out of the park. Everyone's yards were in bloom. 

Blackwoods campsite was packed, but pleasant. Nothing crazy going on. It seemed a popular reverie for couples and small families to stroll through it and see how people camped. A lot of quiet, knowing smiles were exchanged. I don't think there were showers, but there was potable water for sponge baths. I set up a pretty little campsite with my colorful canopy and set off to fulfill my Junior Ranger quests and see all that I could see, with hiking being my top priority. Acadia has a significant number of beautiful trails. And again, I seemed to choose the least popular ones, though they were magnificent, I ran into few folks. The hike to Day Mountain summit is an example. The summit view is a 360 degree one of the entire harbor. Here is a portion of the view.

When I was walking down one of the many carriage roads, which would have been fun to bicycle, and counting the stones lining it per a Junior Ranger requirement, one of the songs that H had played a couple nights before was running through my head. It was the Christopher Robin and Pooh song and the refrain was, "You'd be surprised there's so much to be done: count all the bees in the hive; chase all the clouds from the sky..." My sadness from parting from the cabin seems to be evaporating like fog from out a hollow, as I celebrate my new life of discovering wonders.

The ranger I interviewed was the campground supervisor of both campgrounds. She'd stopped to tell me that she liked my canopy set-up. 

She recommended that I visit the other campground, Seawall and do some tide-pooling. I knew in my heart that Rachel had prepared me for this. A hero doesn't quit being a hero. (Heroine just doesn't sound right.) The rocks at Acadia are splendid. You feel the strength and beauty of glaciers. Rocks glimmer with shards of black, pink and lightning white quartz, and many have fascinating etchings and fossils from millions of years past. 

But the rocks down at the beach have their own color scheme going on. The tide washes in weeds from the sea, green and gold, orange and ochre and when the tide pulls back on they dry in the hot sun, bleeding their rich colors onto the rocks. The tidal pools have other life too of course. Small crustaceans and plenty of creatures wearing shells. It was interesting to watch them knowing that they may or may not survive until the tide comes in again. What was their sense of all of this? Did they have a survival instinct? Would they try to make their way deeper into the puddle, perhaps under a rock ledge where the sun wouldn't be as likely to bake them when the water evaporated? I expected a mad scramble or a mass migration, but with only a few exceptions they seemed to accept their fate. Oh, that I will when my time comes! My favorite snail was one who attached himself, let's say his for lack of any deeper understanding of what I was seeing, but let's call it by his mouth to another's. They kind of suctioned-cupped together. They were both underwater, though it was fairly shallow. He edged them together toward the edge of a ledge, where he just let the water buoy up his shell. He was weightless, held on only by his kiss. A final thrill.

I spent hours tide-pooling. I would like to have stayed longer at Acadia, but I'd made reservations at two national parks in Canada. I'd heard that they often sell out so I wanted to be sure of the opportunity and I wasn't even expecting to stop at Acadia, let alone fall in love with it. 

The Mount Desert area of the park is equally beautiful.

Sunrise from Blackwoods Campground

I hope to be back and hike as many trails as I can.  I swore in as a Junior Ranger there, making a solemn promise to observe and appreciate the world around me.