Meandering Around Maine: Monhegan Island

Tags

adoptee, Art, Gulf of Maine, History, Monhegan Island, Seafood, Sierra Club, Travel by water, Vacation

[Monhegan] seems to have power — as the Irish say about some beauty spots in Ireland — of casting a spell over you. You either like Monhegan or you don’t like it. But if it casts its spell over you – then you are its lover for life. That is what it did to S.P. Rolt Triscott. 

— A.J. Philpott: Boston Sunday Globe, 19 March 1939

Six days of the Sierra Club trip had passed. It was our last morning in Camden, Maine. Fortified by peach-stuffed french toast, we bid farewell to Maine Stay Inn hosts, Peter and Janis. A short drive south brought us to Port Clyde to catch the daily ferry to Monhegan. This rocky island is roughly 12 miles from the coast. To get there, we would traverse the Gulf of Maine. Comfortably seated on the “Elizabeth Ann,” I mentally traveled back to my earlier life in Seattle, Washington. Ferries were the norm. It was fun being back on water.

All aboard for Monhegan. The author with Rochelle Gerratt, Sierra Club Leader

Island Inn: A broad porch with lots of chairs for sea gazing, great restaurant, and comfy rooms.

Roughly two hours later, we stepped into the magical world of Monhegan. No car traffic allowed. This unique village boasts nine miles of forest and coastline hiking trails, a museum, one-room schoolhouse, a church, and several small shops. We checked into the Island Inn and began a week of walking shoreside trails and exploring the island on foot.

Natural beauty abounds. Like S. P. Triscott, I was captivated by the sea, the sky, the land itself. Not surprisingly, Monhegan is home to dozens of artists. Interspersed with hiking, we visited art galleries, shops, the Monhegan Museum of Art and History. All too soon, it was time to climb aboard the daily ferry and return to Port Clyde. Like the artist Triscott, I had become a Monhegan lover for life. I suspected that Mohegan Island would someday call me back.

Our last night, feasting on lobster at Island Inn. If the scenery doesn’t call me back, the seafood just might!

Join Elaine on Mondays for reflections on the writing, hiking and the outdoors, Santa Fe life, and the world as seen through adoption-colored glasses. Check out her newest novel The Hand of Ganesh. Follow adoptees, Clara Jordan and Dottie Benet, in their quest to find Dottie’s birthparents. Order today from Amazon or www.pocolpress.com. And thanks for reading!

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Los Pinos Guest Ranch

Tags

Guest Ranch, Log cabins, New Mexico, Pecos, Vacation

Where the Road ends and the Trail begins…

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Be happy whenever you can manage it. Enjoy yourself. It’s lighter than you think.

— Corita Kent

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After a year of experiencing everything digitally, most of us can’t wait to return to the real world. Face to face with people: Count me in! This past weekend provided an occasion for time in nature and time with folks. My friend Christine was having a birthday, and her partner Dick wanted to take her someplace special. Los Pinos Guest Ranch in Cowles, New Mexico turned out to be the perfect destination. As Christine’s friend and a longtime fan of Los Pinos Guest Ranch, I was invited along.

Located in northern New Mexico’s high country, Alice and Bill McSweeney’s guest ranch dates back to 1912. Surrounded by towering pines, lovely meadows and mountains, the place is magical. It’s a state-certified historical site. There’s the hundred-year-old main lodge and five cabins for guests. All built of logs. The cabins have wonderful names such as Poco Tiempo, Manana, and La Jolla. Each has a sitting porch and a wood-burning stove. Christine and Dick chose Poco Tempo. La Jolla would be my home away from home. Though simple and rustic, the cabins are luxuriously comfortable.

We relaxed on sofas in the expansive screened-in porch. More guests arrived: a trio of women from Albuquerque. As the day waned, the temperature dropped. We retrieved sweaters and jackets. Jerry, a neighbor, came to the lodge to tell us about the “musical box,” a relic from the 1890s. Precursor to the record player, this musical box was brought to New Mexico years ago by the McSweeney family. Jerry, now a Pecos high country resident, was formerly a structural engineer working for Sandia Laboratory. With amazing patience and expertise, he spent a year coaxing this relic into operating. To an audience of six ranch guests, he explained the musical box’s history: originally created in Europe (Switzerland and Germany), it was the rage when it caught on in America. Jerry ended his talk and began the short concert.After installing a large metal disc, he turned the crank and– voila! — the Blue Danube waltz was playing. The sound was beautiful, a melody that conjured up the ambience of an earlier, simpler time.

Alice served an elegant candle-lit dinner, and we retired to our cabins. The next morning, after a sumptuous breakfast elegantly served by Alice, Christine and I took an hour’s hike on the Panchuela Trail.  We “rusticated” on the porch with Dick and other ranch guests, then left for the second hike of the day, this time with the three of us. After a short drive to La Panchuela campground, we found the last available parking spot and began the upper trail toward the Panchuela caves. 

Los Pinos Ranch’s plan includes sack lunches for the day. Whether guests go hiking, birding, fishing or just want to sit outdoors and read, they will never go hungry. Because it was growing warm, so we saved the caves for another day. Instead, we sat by the creek for a picnic.

That evening after another luscious dinner, we sang “Happy Birthday” to Christine and cheered as she blew out the candles. We would leave the next morning to drive back to Santa Fe, knowing that we would return to Los Pinos Guest Ranch. If there’s a getaway in your future and you like being in nature, I recommend Los Pinos. (Learn more at http://www.lospinosranch.com)