Dates: Oct. 19-24, 2023

With: Katelin Cramer

Locations: New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine - Acadia National Park, Saint-Gaudens Natl Historical Park, Marsh-Billings-Rockefeller Natl Historical Park, Kancamagus Scenic Byway, White Mountain Natl Forest, Lebanon, Woodstock, Bar Harbor, and more

The Maine Event

When I think of the prototypical fall, New England exemplifies it best. After Kate left Houston (where we met) and spent the fall working in Lebanon, New Hampshire, she invited me to come out and road trip through NH and Maine to Acadia National Park. Before I knew it, I was buying a round trip flight to Manchester NH and we were planning a road trip through New England during peak foliage season! 

The highlight of the day was driving the Kancamagus scenic byway in Northern New Hampshire. This 35 mile stretch of route 112 goes up to Kancamagus pass at 3000 feet and down to the Swift River flowing through rocky gorge. As it wound us higher and higher into the White Mountains, orange and red lit the hills afire and moody dark granite mountains loomed in the background through thick cloudbanks. It was a rainy day, but we were loving the rain and the atmosphere of fall it created. 

We made a rule that either of us can ask to stop at any pull-off at any time if we see a view we like. It was a nice way to road trip and enjoy every bit of it, and why wouldn't you when you're on one of the most scenic drives in the US during absolute peak fall colors?

Several places offered the chance to go down to the Swift River, hopping rocks out into the freezing waters to get the best views. And aside from one popular bridge, it was mostly deserted as the rain drove away fairweather leaf peepers. We had the run of the whole national forest to ourselves!

Once we left New Hampshire, it was a long dark drive through Maine. When we reached Mount Desert Island (the name of the landmass with Bar Harbor and Acadia on it) it was pitch black out. We drove to our airbnb, a rustic hut in the woods. It was a little spooky walking a trail following fairylights through thick piles of fallen leaves until we reached the hut in the utter darkness of the surrounding woods. I was thinking about the Blair Witch Project for some reason the entire time...

Day 3: On the Precipice

Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse

The woods around the hobbit hole were much less terrifying in the morning light. The first stop of the day for us as we drove towards Bar Harbor itself was Bass Harbor Head lighthouse, possibly the most iconic spot in Acadia. This lighthouse was built in 1858 and has a fourth-order fresnel lens that's beautiful to look at from the hill behind the light.

If you're ever going to Bass Harbor, be there as early as possible- we showed up at 11 after a leisurely morning, and there was a backup of people waiting for the limited parking spots to open up. We walked down to the rocks and just had to go scrambling down to find the best view possible. Waves were crashing hard, the smell of ocean salt was in the air, and a stiff breeze was blowing, but it was a clear morning after our rainy drive day.

On our way back up the rocks, we met the nicest old man, dressed up in his best sweatervest, who Kate instantly befriended. He was moving slow but steady on the boulders, but told us "everything bad that's ever happened to me happened when I was in a rush," a message that we should've taken to heart. Driving up from the lighthouse, we stopped at the Seawall viewpoint, a rugged patch of rocky coastline with spectacular views. We rockhopped out, but the rocks were covered in an extremely slippery algae, and Kate took a good tumble onto them (trying to rush!)

Another driving stop led us to a short trail on a boardwalk through a moody lakeside marsh. We hiked it quickly for a breath of fresh air.

Northeast Harbor

After a circuitous drive around two of the peninsulas on Mount Desert Island, we reached Northeast Harbor, where we grabbed lunch and walked out on the docks in the harbor to see the sailboats and seabirds. A small black guillemot was diving in the harbor for fish, and a Great Black-Backed Gull (in first winter plumage) had stolen a lobster claw to pick apart.

Precipice

With the break in the rain still holding, we decided to go for one of Acadia's premier hikes - Precipice. This is really close to a via ferrata- the "trail" goes up over 1000 feet in less than a mile, and includes rock scrambling, climbing iron rungs drilled into the cliff, and walking along ledges with iron bars as handrails or footholds. It's considered dangerous to descend it, so another trail brings you back down. From the NPS webpage: "It is not recommended for small children, for people with a fear of heights, or for anyone in wet weather. Descending the Precipice is dangerous and not advised." Fortunately, we had no small children at least...

A short part actually resembled a trail, taking us up many granite block steps through the foliage with every shade of fall glowing. Once we cleared the main treeline of red maples and brown oaks, the steepness took over fast. We scrambled up a boulder field, crawling under some and squeezing through gaps of others. Then the trail became a series of ledges along the tall cliff that rose above us. We were in great spirits, as the first iron bars started to appear as nice, safe handrails.

Slowly but surely the intensity ratcheted up. It started with some small iron rung ladders- 2 or 3 rungs hammered into a 5-foot granite block that you would clamber up on to continue. Then the ladders started getting longer, and the handrails on ledges turned into bars set into the ground to serve as a foot guard against slipping off the sloped stone. Things were still damp, so we moved very carefully. As the ladders got even taller, Kate started to have second thoughts, but kept pushing.

Then a combination of our increasing height, sketchy trail, and weather caught up to us. We were on a sloped granite ledge just a couple of feet wide as the clouds darkened and a light mist started coming down. The next obstacle was another iron ladder, 20 rungs or so straight up the cliff face. When she saw that, Kate decided enough was enough and plunked down on the ledge, clinging to a bar for safekeeping. We were already 700 feet up or so of our 1000, and I told her in no uncertain terms that going back down the ladders and ledges would be much more treacherous and scary than continuing up. Unfortunately, Kate's very real fear of heights was doing the talking now, and I couldn't get her to continue up. The mist was starting to turn into a sprinkle as she took the carabiner from my backpack, clipped herself to the railing, and asked "can you call someone?" with the biggest puppy dog eyes.

There was noone to call, and there was nowhere to go but up, but it took a lucky arrival to save us- right then a nice older couple climbed up onto our ledge and immediately began comforting Kate and convincing her to follow them up, with me bringing up the rear for safety. 

Bit by bit, we continued up, putting the long ladder behind us, we found an even more mentally challenging feature waiting beyond- a downclimb using a crooked bar for hands and slick rock for feet, to a ledge with a 1-foot wide flat zone, then a rolloff to the cliff below. We also had a clear view of the whole scene now, with hundreds of vertical feet under us, the woods and ocean beyond, and the storm clouds continuing to grow overhead. The worst part for Kate was that the ledge curved around the side of the mountain so we couldn't see if it led to "safety," just that she had to inch out across this tightrope into what looked like open space. 

After a heart-to-heart with our new best friends (who turned out to be from Minnesota- midwest nice is a real thing) she was convinced to finish strong. We inched across the ledge around the airy corner, before seeing it led to a much wider walkway, one last ladder, and then a normal walkup to the top! See the photos below for an idea of how narrow the ultimate ledge really was- the dark strip under our feet is the "walkable" part of the trail.

A few more steps from there, and we were at the summit marker! It was perfect timing too as more and more raindrops started to come down. Fortunately, a nice easy 2 mile trail winds you back down to the road, which we were glad to walk along to the car in the pouring rain with the danger passed. Of course on the way down, Kate was feeling full of life again and got a little overzealous, leading to her second tailbone-bruising of the day.

A rainy drive into Bar Harbor itself took us to our airbnb, a crazy cool place that Kate had found. It was called the bygone-era-cottage, a totally eclectic craftsman house packed to the gills with books, artwork, souvenirs from around the world, and maine-themed regalia. We celebrated surviving Precipice with dinner at Testa's bar and grill in downtown Bar Harbor, where we had lobster mac and cheese, mahi mahi tacos, clam chowder-smothered fries, blueberry beer (hers) and soda (mine), and ate to our hearts' content. 

The walk back afterwards was memorable for the absolutely torrential downpour- my jeans and shoes were totally soaked through and the streets were near-flooded. It made the cottage all the cozier when we got back, where we rounded out the perfect day by watching Michigan drub MSU 49-0 in football.

Kate found two crab carapaces, and named them Franky and Jilly, and they came with us for the rest of the walk. Then we strolled through town, stopping in tourist trap souvenir shops and having a delicous slice of blueberry pie and fries at Side Street Cafe. Once we were done in town, we decided to drive the park loop road to get in some views and light hikes. Passing Newport Cove, we pulled off at a cliffside area to see the heavy swells smashing into the pink cliffs. The rain was also coming down pretty heavily at this point, so Kate kindly held the umbrella over me while I shot pictures.

Further down the road is Thunder Hole, one of the best sights in the park. When the tide comes in, it makes an impressive explosion as the void instantly fills with water, and sends sprays 50 feet in the air. A lower platform for watching at low tide was underwater, so we stayed high to watch the thunder. I was also determined to find the USGS marker, which meant I had to do a little bit of wet rock climbing to gain the rock tower right above Thunder Hole, where I found my prize.

It was starting to get dim by now, so we completed the drive of Park Loop Road back to Bar Harbor, with quick stops at the Otter Harbor crossing and Jordan Pond to marvel at the views as the evening colors faded away. To commemorate yesterday's hike of Precipice, we watched Cliffhanger in the evening as rain continued to pour outside.

Driving back down out of the cloud, a moody morning awaited us. I still enjoyed leaf-peeping as we drove back to town, and wasn't about to let one bum ankle ruin this day. We stopped to tape up my ankle and get an ankle brace to reinforce it, and I convinced Kate we still had to do the Beehive, another iconic iron hike in Acadia. I knew compared to Precipice, this would be a walk in the park for us now.

The sky cleared up as we started Beehive, treating us to some patches of blue, sunshine, and a glow in the foliage that we had yet to really see on this trip. We absolutely cruised the hike to the summit of the Beehive, with the ladders, rails, and ledges seeming like child's play just as I expected. The worst part of the hike was actually just waiting in line as so many people stacked up at all the ladder and ledge "pinch points" and some people were really slow and scared, holding us up.

After enjoying the summit and hiking down through sumac and beech forests bursting with color, we had two final things to do before deserting Mt. Desert Island. First we went to the Dog & Pony Tavern for lobster rolls, a downeast classic. Then, Kate wanted to swim (?!) in the ocean to keep up her monthly swimming habit. So we drove down to Sand Beach, where the sky had become overcast again and cold winds were spinning up. Plenty of people were walking the beach, but nobody else was swimming so she had quite the audience as she ran into the freezing water and swam back and forth. I contented myself with combing the beach for shells and sand dollars instead.

I was sad to see the park signs fall away as we left Bar Harbor to head back to New Hampshire, but we had one more fun stop before light faded and we made a beeline back to Lebanon. In Bangor, Maine, we took a detour through the historic neighborhoods full of gothic manors to see Stephen King's house! It had exactly the spooky vibes you would expect, with a wrought-iron spiderweb gate guarded by winged demons. Then it was back to the road for us, making it back very late and very tired.

It was really a perfect last day, with sunny skies and warm temps as we frolicked on the manicured lawns and breathed in the last of that crisp mountain air.

A short trip back to the Manchester regional airport later and the New England experience was over, but what a trip! As I write this over a year later, this still holds a special place for me as one of my favorite trips ever. The cold and rain was tough at times but made an atmosphere that just builds more nostalgia as time goes on. I knew immediately I wanted to go back to New Hampshire and Vermont in the springtime (spoiler alert, I did). Thanks Kate for putting up with my photos and park-chasing in the face of weather and heights!