Maine Huts & Trails Week: The Many Surprises Along the Route
On my multisport adventure this week visiting all four of the Maine Huts, I kept a running commentary in my notebook on the many surprises I found along the way.
Huts Are Much More Comfortable Than You Imagine—From the cherry wood tables to the floor to ceiling windows to screened-in porches, these are the latest version of the hut-to-hut wilderness experience. Lisa and I had our own private room at each hut, the chance to shower every day, and my personal favorite, an opportunity to toast our accomplishment with an excellent list of Maine microbrews like Allagash White or Baxter Stowaway IPA.
Huts Are Located Next to Stunning Viewpoints—It’s only a 2-minute walk from Stratton Brook Hut to a glorious vista overlooking the 4,000-foot peaks of the Bigelow Range. At Poplar Stream, you stroll down a hill 10 minutes to reach a waterfall nestled in the deep forest. I won’t soon forget the sunset over Flagstaff Lake, a 5-minute walk from the hut. Finally, everyone should see the mighty Grand Falls once in his or her lifetime, a mere 10-minute walk from the Grand Falls Hut.
Meals are Far Better Than Expected—As the 5th grade teacher from Florida said to me after finishing her dinner at the Grand Falls Hut, “I’d come here just for the food!” Dinners included chicken with a boysenberry sauce, braised beef stew, a pasta primavera made with quinoa, all served with fresh local greens. Desserts were also tasty, like blueberry cobbler or lemon squares. For breakfast, we had strawberry pancakes with real Maine maple syrup, eggs with corned beef hash, freshly made biscuits with local jam, yogurt, and granola. They also supply tuna salad, chicken salad, or homemade hummus to pack sandwiches for lunch. So there’s no need to bring food on the trip.
They Transport Packs to the Next Hut—I have no problem backpacking or throwing my pack into a canoe, but mountain biking with a full pack is not fun. That’s why I loved their daily transport, which shipped my sleeping bag, clothes, and bathroom stuff.
The Maine Wilderness is Closer Than You Think—Only a 4 ½-hour drive from my house in suburban Boston and I was at my first trailhead outside of Kingfield, Maine. For the next 5 days I rarely saw another person while hiking, mountain biking, or paddling. In its place was a vast wilderness with few signs of civilization. Follow the cue of the bald eagles and loons and get here.
I’d like to thank Cayce Frigon at Maine Huts & Trails for helping to create a memorable 5-day itinerary, one that I hopefully passed along to readers from this week’s blogs. Enjoy the weekend and, as always, thanks for tuning in.
Based in San Francisco since the company started in 1979, 
My kids weren’t too pleased to wake up at 6:30 am on summer vacation, but I wanted to be at Carara National Park at 7 am, when it opened. I knew from prior trips to the country that Carara was one of the few places to see that majestic bird, the scarlet macaw. Last time here, I heard a loud noise, only to peer up at a family of four vibrantly colored macaws. That is an image I was hoping to recreate. We arrived early and the gate was closed. In summer, Carara opens at 8 am read the sign. Screw it. The kids were already giving me grief for waking them up, so we sneaked in through the gate and started our hike. An hour later, we were covered in sweat from the sweltering rainforest humidity and had only spotted one very large Jesus Christ lizard. No macaws. We drove back to the hotel and I was bumming big time. 
Travel and Leisure just came out with their 
Flyfishing for bones can be one of the most punishing sports known to man. You stalk the flats, cast your long fly with precision, and then watch in utter frustration as the grazing pod scatters every which way. Averaging just four to seven pounds, the bone is so easily spooked that the best saltwater fishermen will often remain mute and in place for hours in order to hook one. The wily fish can sense the boat moving, can feel you wading in the water, can hear you speaking. One awkward movement on your part and off they flee. Yet, a little patience, a graceful cast just beyond the reach of the school, and a bonefish just might take that fly and run off some 75 yards of line in a couple of seconds. You’ll get the feverish feel of what it’s like to be connected to a remarkably fast and furious fish. The reason why inveterate anglers will often tell you that if you “hook a bone, you’ll be hooked on the sport.” Winter is a great time to try your luck on the flats of the Upper Keys. There are a slew of guides. One of the best is 
The Appalachian Mountain Club