The Maine Coast In context
Boiled down to its simplest facts, the Maine coast basically consists of two regions: southern Maine—“down there,” also sometimes referred to as “Vacationland” or “not Maine”—and Downeast—“up there” or “the real Maine.” The truth is, it’s all “real Maine,” although the two regions can seem as different as night and day. Broadly speaking, as you head north, the gourmet cuisine, fine cars, and luxury inns of the southern coast gradually give way to cottages, used cars tacked together with duct tape, and fried fish.
Maine’s legendary aloofness is important to keep in mind when visiting the area, because getting to know the region requires equal amounts of patience and persistence. New England doesn’t wear its attractions on its sleeve. It keeps its best destinations hidden in valleys and on the side streets of small villages. Your most memorable experience might be cracking open a boiled lobster at a roadside lobster pound marked by a scrawled paper sign, or exploring a cobblestoned alley that’s not even on Google Maps. There’s no Disneyland or Eiffel Tower here. This coast is the sum of dozens of smaller attractions; it resists being defined by a few big ones.
Of course, the natural elements here—the wind, the soft hazy light, the shining or roiling seas—always seem to have the greatest draw on the traveler. Rejuvenating as these elements are, they are also capricious. You’re as likely to get a blue-sky day when the islands sparkle like coins in the harbor as you are 3 days of fog and spitting rain or snow. Maybe both in the same week. Attempting to understand this weather—just like trying to explore the coast as a regular tourist, hitting attraction after attraction—is pointless. It’s better to just let the mood of each day catch you, cycling or driving a back road in search of something you’ve never seen before (a byway, an old house, a handmade sign advertising pies). Or, if the weather’s really nasty, stay inside and do crossword puzzles; paint a watercolor; listen to the Red Sox on the local radio station. Now you’re getting the real Maine.
Some writers believe Maine’s character is still heavily influenced by Calvinism, by such ideas as nothing can change my fate and hard work is the only virtue. It’s hard not to agree, but Mainers aren’t completely stone-faced—there are wonderful characters, smiles, and stories to be had in abundance here. You don’t need to expect rock-hard mattresses and tasteless meals, either; as these pages demonstrate, spas, luxurious country inns, and restaurants serving London-class meals have arrived on the coastal Maine scene, displacing some of the boardinghouses and chowder houses of old. Be sure to visit these upscale places, but also set aside time to spend rocking in a chair on a simple inn porch, or wandering a rocky beach path unhurriedly. You’ll be glad you did.
The Maine Coast Today
You might be on Monhegan Island, or traveling downeast along Route 1. You’ll see a few houses and a few people. A store. A pickup truck. And you’ll wonder, “What do these people do to earn a living, anyway?”
As recently as a few decades ago, the answer was almost always this: living off the land and water. They might have fished, harvested their own woodlots, or managed gravel pits, but work here usually fell into a category that was awfully close to that of survival. Of course, many still do three jobs, but hardscrabble work is no longer the only game in town. Today a coastal Mainer just as likely might be a former New Yorker editor, a farmer who grows organic produce for gourmet restaurants, or a financial consultant who handles his clients by fax and e-mail. And you’ll find lots of folks whose livelihood depends on tourism, whether it’s the lone tour guide, the high school kid working the local T-shirt shop, or the tow-truck driver hauling fancy cars around Mount Desert Island after they break down.
This slow change in the economy is but one of the big shifts facing Maine and New England. The most visible and wracking change involves development and growth; for a region long familiar with poverty, a spell of recent prosperity and escalating property values has threatened to bring to Maine that curious homogenization already marking suburbs and hip urban neighborhoods in the rest of the nation. Once a region of distinctive villages, green commons, and courthouse squares, parts of coastal Maine have come to resemble suburbs everywhere else—a pastiche of strip malls dotted with fast-food chains, big-box discount and home-improvement stores, and the like.
While undeniably convenient, this is nothing short of shocking to longtime residents. Coastal towns have long maintained their identities in the face of considerable pressure. The region has always taken pride in its low-key, practical approach to life. In smaller communities, town meetings are still the preferred form of government. Residents gather in a public space to speak out about—sometimes forcefully—and vote on the issues of the day, such as funding for their schools, road improvements, fire trucks, or even symbolic gestures such as declaring their towns nuclear-free. “Use it up, wear it out, make do, or do without” is a well-worn phrase that aptly sums up the attitude of many longtime Mainers—and it’s the polar opposite of the designer-outlet ethos filtering in.
Local Wisdom |
Welcome to Vacationland
—former Maine state slogan
Maine: The Way Life Should Be
—former Maine state slogan
It’s not clear how town meetings and that sense of knowing where your town ends and the next one begins will survive the slow but inexorable encroachment of generic consumer culture. You see it already, as chain stores like Walmart and Banana Republic proliferate in places like the mall-heavy sprawl on Portland’s fringes, the shopping outlets of Kittery and Freeport, and the Route 1 conglomeration near Bucksport and Ellsworth. In these spots, little regional identity can be found.
Meanwhile, the rest of coastal Maine is figuring out how best to balance the principles of growth and conservation—how to allow the economy to edge into the modern age without sacrificing those qualities that make Maine such a distinctive place. Development is a hot issue, but it isn’t white-hot—yet. Few locals have adopted the view that development should be allowed at all costs. On the flip side, few tend to think that the land should be preserved at all costs, either. They’re not all that happy about rising property taxes and land prices—unless they happen to own a chunk of the coast, in which case they’re probably putting up the for sale signs as we speak.
Pinching off all development would mean that the offspring of longtime Maine families would have fewer jobs, and that Maine would be fated to spend its days as a sort of quaint theme park. But if development continued unabated, many of the characteristics that make this place unique—and attract tourist dollars—would vanish. Will the Maine coast be able to sustain its tourism industry if it’s blanketed with strip malls and fast-food joints, making it look like every other town in America? Unlikely. The question is how to respect the conservation ethic while leaving room for growth, but that question won’t be answered anytime soon.
Think Maine is your little secret getaway? Think again: This coast has seen wave after successive wave of visitation, beginning at least 3 centuries ago when European newcomers tried to settle it, only to be driven off by Native Americans. (It’s also locally believed that Vikings may have touristed—er, pillaged?—the region even longer before that.)
By the early 19th century, the Maine coast had become well colonized and blossomed into one of the most prosperous places in all the United States. Shipbuilders constructed brigantines and sloops, using stout pines and other trees floated downriver from Maine’s North Woods; ship captains built huge, handsome homes in towns such as Searsport, Kittery, Bath, and Belfast; and merchants and traders built vast warehouses to store the booty from the excursions, as well as their own grandiose homes.
Then things quieted down for a while, until landscape artists “rediscovered” Maine. In the mid-to-late 19th century, they brought in their wake a fresh influx of city dwellers from Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, seeking relief from the heat and congestion of the city. The huge, shingled seaside estates they built lined the coast in places such as Bar Harbor and Camden.
At the beginning of the 20th century, a newly moneyed emerging middle class (a third wave?) showed up to discover Maine yet again, building smaller, less expensive bungalows by the shore in places such as York Beach, Kennebunk Beach, and Old Orchard Beach. The next arrival? That’s you, dear reader.
Complicating things, Maine’s economy has been unpredictable, with tourism on the rise but few consistent trend lines. The mid-1990s saw a slump, then another in the wake of the housing bubble, and recent years have ushered in a steady uptick in visitors. Winners and losers in other sectors have been both predictable (service jobs are up, the paper mills keep closing) and surprising (real estate’s anemic, small farms are booming). Through all the ups and downs, resourceful locals somehow found a way to buy and fix up farmhouses and keep their trucks running and dogs happy. Entrepreneurship has surged: Turn over a few stones, and it’s remarkable how many self-owned enterprises you’ll find along this coast.
One change is all but inevitable: Property values will continue to rise as city folks increasingly seek a piece of whatever it is that makes rural Maine special. Commentators believe this change, while welcome after decades of slow growth, will bring new conflicts. The continuing decentralization of the workplace has made it easier for telecommuters and info-entrepreneurs to settle the coast’s more far-flung villages, clocking in via laptops and tablets. How might comparatively affluent newcomers feel about increased coastal development or growing numbers of tour buses cruising their quaint harborside streets? How will locals respond to all the new money—with envy, or with open arms? And how much will the state’s priceless natural resources become stressed by increased tourism or development?
Change doesn’t come rapidly to the Maine coast. But there’s a lot to sort out, and friction will certainly continue to build, one waterfront condo at a time. One thing is for sure: It will be interesting to see how it plays out.
Looking Back at Maine
Viewed from a distance, Maine’s history mirrors that of its progenitor, England. This coastline rose from a sparsely populated, inhospitable place to a place of tremendous historical importance in a relatively short time, thanks to its tremendous natural resources (such as white pine trees for ship’s masts, and endless schools of fish that could be caught offshore). For a time, Maine captured a good deal of America’s overseas trade and became a legitimate industrial and marine powerhouse—not to mention a center of literary and creative thought and even fine art.
Don’t believe me? That’s because the party ended almost as suddenly as it began, when commerce and culture sought more fertile grounds to the west and south.
To this day, Maine refuses to separate itself from the past. When you walk through downtown Portland, layers of history pile up at every turn: punk-rock wannabes taking selfies in front of fine colonial church steeples; modern buses rolling through oceanview parks; elaborate mansions by world-class architects that speak to the refined sensibilities of the late Victorian era.
History is even more inescapable as you proceed up the coast and off the beaten track. Travelers in Downeast Maine—an overlooked, economically depressed area today—can still find clues to what Henry Wadsworth Longfellow called “the irrevocable past” in everything from stone walls running through the woods to the handsome Federal-style homes built by wealthy merchants.
Here’s a brief overview of some historical episodes and trends that have shaped coastal Maine:
Indigenous Culture Native Americans have inhabited Maine since about 7000 b.c. The state was inhabited chiefly by Algonquins and Abenakis, who lived a nomadic life of fishing, trapping, and hunting; they changed camp locations several times each year to take advantage of seasonal fish runs, wildlife movements, and the like.
After the arrival of the Europeans, French Catholic missionaries succeeded in converting many Native Americans, and most tribes sided with the French in the French and Indian War in the 18th century. Afterward, the Indians fared poorly at the hands of the British and were quickly pushed to the margins. Today, there are four nations of the Wabanaki in Maine: the Maliseet, Micmac, Penobscot, and Passamaquoddy. The Passamaquoddy administer two reservations in Downeast Maine; the relationship between the state and the tribes is sometimes turbulent.
The Colonies In 1604, some 80 French colonists spent winter on a small island on what today is the Maine–New Brunswick border. They did not care for the harsh weather of their new home and left in spring to resettle in present-day Nova Scotia. In 1607, 3 months after the celebrated Jamestown, Virginia, colony was founded, a group of 100 English settlers established a community at Popham Beach, Maine. The Maine winter demoralized these would-be colonists, as well, and they returned to England the following year. In 1614, Captain John Smith, of Jamestown fame, is said to have spent a Yule night off of South Bristol while exploring the Maine Coast, at the spot now called Christmas Cove (see p. 139).
The colonization of the region began in earnest with the arrival of the Pilgrims at Plymouth Rock in 1620. The Pilgrims—a religious group that had split from the Church of England—established North America’s first permanent European colony, although it came at a hefty price: Half the group perished during the first winter. But the colony began to thrive over the years, in part thanks to helpful Native Americans. The success of the Pilgrims lured other settlers from England, who established a constellation of small towns outside Boston that became the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Throughout the 17th century, colonists from Massachusetts pushed northward into what is now Maine (but was then part of Massachusetts). The first areas to be settled—such as York, Kittery, and what’s now known as Cape Elizabeth—were lands near protected harbors along the coast and on navigable waterways.
The more remote settlements came under attack in the 17th and early 18th centuries in a series of raids by Native Americans conducted both independently and in concert with the French. These proved temporary setbacks; colonization continued throughout New England into the 18th century.
The American Revolution Starting around 1765, Great Britain launched a series of ham-handed economic policies to reign in the increasingly feisty colonies. These included a direct tax—the Stamp Act—to pay for a standing army. The crackdown provoked strong resistance. Under the banner of “No taxation without representation,” disgruntled colonists engaged in a series of riots, resulting in the Boston Massacre of 1770, when five protesting colonists were fired upon and killed by British soldiers.
In 1773 the most infamous protest—dubbed the Boston Tea Party—took place in Boston (and, at the time, Maine was still part of Massachusetts). Hostilities reached a peak in 1775 when the British, seeking to quell unrest in Massachusetts, sent troops to seize military supplies and arrest high-profile rebels John Hancock and Samuel Adams. The colonists’ militia exchanged gunfire with the British, thereby igniting the Revolutionary War (“the shot heard round the world”). Hostilities formally ended in February 1783, and in September Britain recognized the United States as a sovereign nation.
While no notable battles were fought in Maine, a number of forts were established along the coast of Maine—first for the purpose of defending the British from the French, and then for the purpose of defending the new America from, well, the British. Many of these forts remain well preserved today, as state parks. Kittery’s Fort McClary (p. 21) was garrisoned during the Revolutionary War; on the Pemaquid Peninsula, the Colonial Pemaquid State Historic Site (p. 140) has a replica of a fort from 1692 (the replica itself is more than a century old).
Farming & Trade As the new republic matured, economic growth in New England followed two tracks. Residents of inland communities survived by farming and trading in furs. On the Maine coast, however, boatyards sprang up anywhere there was a good anchorage, and ship captains made tidy fortunes trading lumber for sugar and rum in the Caribbean. Trade was dealt a severe blow following the Embargo Act of 1807, but commerce eventually recovered, and Maine-ported ships could be encountered everywhere around the globe. Entire towns such as Searsport (see p. 145), Thomaston (p. 43), and Bath (p. 120) developed almost solely as exclusive (at the time) hometowns for shipbuilders and the sea captains who stayed at sea for long months on these difficult journeys; many of their homes contained distinctive “widow’s walks,” from which their wives could watch for their returns.
The growth of the railroad in the mid-19th century was another boon. The train opened up much of the coast to trade by connecting Maine with Boston. The rail lines allowed local resources—such as timber from the Maine woods, floated downriver to the coast via log drives—to be much more easily shipped to markets to the south.
Industry Maine’s Industrial Revolution found seed around the time of the embargo of 1807. Barred from importing English fabrics, New Englanders simply pulled up their bootstraps and built their own textile mills. Other common household products were also manufactured domestically, especially shoes. Coastal towns such as Biddeford, Saco, and Topsham became centers of textile and shoe production. Today, however, industry no longer plays the prominent role it once did—manufacturing first moved to the South, then overseas.
Tourism In the mid– and late 19th century, Mainers discovered a new cash crop: the tourist. All along the eastern seaboard, it became fashionable for the gentry and eventually the working class to set out for excursions to the mountains and the shore. Aided by the dramatic paintings of the Hudson River School painters, Acadia and the downeast coast were suddenly lifted by a tide of summer visitors; this tourism wave crested in the 1890s in Bar Harbor. Several grand resort hotels from tourism’s golden era, like Southport’s Newagen Seaside Inn (see p. 131) and Rockland’s Samoset Resort (see p. 149), still host summer travelers in the area.
Economic Downturn While the railways helped Maine to thrive in the mid–19th century, the train played an equally central role in undermining its prosperity. The driving of the Golden Spike in 1869 in Utah, linking America’s Atlantic and Pacific coasts by rail, was heard loud and clear in Maine, and it had a discordant ring. Transcontinental rail meant manufacturers could ship goods from the fertile Great Plains and California to faraway markets; the coastal shipping trade was dealt a fatal blow. And the tourists, too, began to set their sights on the suddenly accessible Rockies and other stirring sites in the West.
Beginning in the late 19th century, Maine lapsed into an extended economic slumber. Families commonly walked away from their farmhouses (there was no market for resale) and set off for regions with more promising opportunities. The abandoned, decaying farmhouse became almost an icon for the Maine coast, and vast tracts of farmland were reclaimed by forest. With the rise of the automobile, the grand resorts further succumbed, and many closed their doors as inexpensive motels siphoned off their business.
Boom Times During the last 2 decades of the 20th century, much of Maine rode an unexpected wave of prosperity. A massive real-estate boom shook the region in the 1980s, driving land prices sky-high as prosperous buyers from New York and Boston acquired vacation homes or retired to the most alluring areas. In the 1990s, the rise of the high-tech industry also sent ripples from Boston north into Maine. Tourism rebounded as harried urbanites of the eastern seaboard opted for shorter, more frequent vacations closer to home.
Travelers to more remote regions, however, will discover that some communities never benefited from this boom; they’re still waiting to rebound from the early 20th-century economic downturn. Especially hard hit have been places such as Downeast Maine, where many residents still depend on local resources—lobsters, fish, farmland, maybe a bed-and-breakfast or crafts business on the side—to eke out a living. And, remarkably, it still works.
Coastal Maine Art & Architecture
Architecture You can often trace the evolution of a place by its architecture, as styles evolve from basic structures to elaborate mansions. The primer below should help you with basic identification.
Colonial (1600–1700): The New England house of the 17th century was a simple, boxy affair, often covered in shingles or rough clapboards. Don’t look for ornamentation; these homes were designed for basic shelter from the elements, and are often marked by prominent stone chimneys.
Georgian (1700–1800): Ornamentation comes into play in the Georgian style, which draws heavily on classical symmetry. Georgian buildings were in vogue in England at the time, and were embraced by affluent colonists. Look for Palladian windows, formal pilasters, and elaborate projecting pediments. Portsmouth, New Hampshire (see p. 250), has abundant examples of later Georgian styles.
Federal (1780–1820): Federal homes (sometimes called Adams homes) may best represent the New England ideal. Spacious yet austere, they are often rectangular or square, with low-pitched roofs and little ornament on the front, although carved swags or other embellishments are frequently seen near the roofline. Look for fan windows and chimneys bracketing the building. In Maine, excellent Federal-style homes are found throughout the region in towns such as Kennebunkport, Bath, and Brunswick (see chapter 6).
Greek Revival (1820–60) and Gothic Revival (1840–80): These two styles—Greek Revival with its columned porticoes and triangular pediments, Gothic Revival with its mock turrets and castellations—didn’t catch on in Maine as they did in other parts of the country, although a few examples can still seen here and there. Maine’s late-19th-century tourist boom, however, perfectly coincided with the rise of . . .
Victorian (1860–1900): This is a catchall term for the jumble of mid- to late-19th-century styles that emphasized complexity and opulence. Perhaps the best-known Victorian style—almost a caricature—is the tall and narrow Addams Family–style house, with mansard roof and prickly roof cresting. You’ll find these scattered throughout the region. The Victorian style also includes squarish Italianate homes with wide eaves and unusual flourishes, such as the outstanding Victoria Mansion in Portland (see p. 101).
Shingle (1880–1900): This uniquely New England style quickly became preferred for vacation homes on the Maine coast. Marked by a profusion of gables, roofs, and porches, they are typically covered with shingles from roofline to foundation.
Modern (1900–present): Maine has produced little in the way of notable modern architecture; you won’t find a Fallingwater (one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s best-known works, near Pittsburgh), though you might spy a surprising modernist building somewhere on an enclave of wealth such as Mount Desert Island (p. 184) or Cape Elizabeth (p. 104)—if you can get past the security.
Art New England is also justly famous for the art it has produced, particularly the seascapes painted on Cape Cod, along the coast of Maine, and by Hudson River School artists such as Thomas Cole and his student Frederic Church. Some of the other artists who have memorably painted New England landscapes and seascapes include Winslow Homer (1836–1910), Fairfield Porter (1907–75), John Marin (1870–1953), Neil Welliver (1929–2005), and Andrew Wyeth (1917–2009), he of the iconic Christina’s World, painted in a coastal Maine field. To showcase these works, and the works of other local and traveling artists, there are a surprising number of excellent art museums and galleries in Maine, including the Portland Museum of Art (p. 101), the Farnsworth Museum in Rockland (p. 153), and the Ogunquit Museum of American Art in Ogunquit (p. 69). Consult individual chapters for more details on local art offerings.
Coastal Maine in Popular Culture
Books Mainers have generated whole libraries, from the earliest days of hellfire-and-brimstone Puritan sermons to Stephen King’s horror novels set in fictional Maine villages.
The tales of Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804–64)—a Bowdoin College alumnus (see p. 125)—captivated a public eager for native literature. His most famous story, The Scarlet Letter, is a narrative about morality set in 17th-century Boston; his numerous other books wrestled with themes of sin and guilt, often set in the emerging republic.
Another Bowdoin graduate, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–82), caught the attention of the public with evocative narrative poems focusing on distinctly American subjects. His popular works included “The Courtship of Miles Standish,” “Paul Revere’s Ride,” and “Hiawatha.” Poetry in the mid–19th century was the equivalent of Hollywood movies today—Longfellow could be considered his generation’s Steven Spielberg (apologies to literary scholars). A tour of Longfellow’s childhood home, the Wadsworth-Longfellow House, in Portland (see p. 102), opens a window onto his New England roots.
Henry David Thoreau’s The Maine Woods explored Maine (although not the coast) in detail, at a time when few white men had yet penetrated the interior of the state—and there were still significant dangers involved in doing that. His canoe trip to Mount Katahdin (see chapter 10) was a genuine adventure.
Other regional writers who left a lasting mark on American literature include Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892–1950), a poet from Camden (see p. 154), and Sarah Orne Jewett (1849–1909), who wrote the indelible The Country of the Pointed Firs (you can visit her house in South Berwick—see p. 60). The best-selling Uncle Tom’s Cabin, the book Abraham Lincoln half-jokingly accused of starting the Civil War, was written by Harriet Beecher Stowe (1811–86) while in Brunswick (p. 120). Though it isn’t in Maine, New Brunswick’s Grand Manan Island (see p. 281) claims Willa Cather, who summered there in the 1920s and 1930s.
The former New Yorker scribe E. B. White (1899–1985) wrote many fine, wide-ranging essays and books (including children’s books such as the classic Charlotte’s Web) about rural Maine from his perch in North Brooklin, near Blue Hill (p. 180), where he moved in 1939. You could do worse for an introduction to Maine than to pick up a copy of his essay collection, One Man’s Meat.
Finally, Bangor, Maine (see p. 263), is still the home of Stephen King, who is considered not so much a novelist as Maine’s leading industry.
Film & TV Maine is frequently captured through the lens of Hollywood, thanks in equal parts to its natural beauty and, probably, the unusually high numbers of actors and actresses (Oliver Platt, for example) who maintain vacation homes here.
Lillian Gish’s 1920 silent film Way Down East was perhaps the first movie to bring cinematic attention to the region. Poignantly, Gish’s last film, The Whales of August (1987), was set in a summer cottage on an island off the coast of Maine. Scenes from 1999’s The Cider House Rules, which was set in Maine, were filmed on Mount Desert Island, and the 2005 HBO adaptation of Maine author Richard Russo’s Pulitzer-winning Empire Falls was filmed all over the state. A host of horror films written by Maine’s Stephen King—from Carrie, Cujo, and The Dead Zone down to a welter of TV miniseries—make it sometimes seem like the only inhabitants of small New England towns are ghosts, creeps, and other supernatural forces. However, King also penned the short story upon which the wonderful flick starring Morgan Freeman and Tim Robbins, The Shawshank Redemption (one of my all-time favorites), was later based. The story and film are both based in Maine, though the prison and events are completely fictional.
Eating & Drinking on the Maine Coast
All along the coast you’ll be tempted by seafood in its various forms. You can get fried clams by the bucket at divey shacks along remote coves and busy highways. The more upscale restaurants offer fresh fish, grilled or gently sautéed.
Live lobster can be bought literally off the boat at lobster pounds, especially along the Maine coast. The setting is usually rustic—maybe a couple of picnic tables and a shed where huge vats of water are kept at a low boil. Note that lobster prices in most Maine shacks vary, sometimes by a lot; it depends almost exclusively on the current year’s take. (In a down year, you’ll pay more.) There are two kinds of lobster, soft-shell and hard-shell. Many lobsters still have soft shells in the summer, because they’ve slipped off old ones and are still growing new ones back. People vary in their preferences, and some say the soft-shell lobsters have less meat. Not sure about that, but I’m a hard-shell man all the way. In fall and early winter, hard-shell lobsters become more numerous, and their price drops. The worst time to eat a lobster is probably spring, when the crustaceans are scarce, small, and overpriced. Put off that May feast; get a fish platter instead.
In summer small farmers set up stands at the end of their driveways offering fresh produce straight from the garden. You can usually find berries, fruits, and sometimes home-baked breads. These stands are rarely tended; just leave your money in the coffee can.
Restaurateurs haven’t overlooked New England’s bounty. Many chefs serve delicious meals consisting of local ingredients—some places even tend their own gardens. Some of the fine dishes I’ve enjoyed while researching this guide include curried pumpkin soup, venison medallions with shiitake mushrooms, and wild boar with juniper berries.
But you don’t have to have a hefty budget to enjoy the local foods. A number of regional classics fall into the “road food” category. Here’s an abbreviated field guide:
Baked beans: Boston is forever linked with baked beans (hence the nickname “Beantown”), but they remain amazingly popular in Maine. A local Saturday-night church supper on the coast often consists of just baked beans and brown bread at “bean hole” suppers featuring the food. There’s also a famous B&M baked-bean plant in Portland.
Lobster rolls: Lobster rolls consist of some pretty basic fixings: fresh lobster meat plucked from the shell, mixed with just enough mayonnaise to hold it together, and served on a hot-dog roll (preferably buttered and grilled). There are fancier permutations in touristy areas, with stuff such as celery and onions mixed in, but you want this basic version: It’s meatier and more succulent. You’ll find the rolls almost everywhere along the Maine coast; expect to pay between $10 and $20 per roll (more in lean lobster-harvest years). One of the meatiest in Maine is served at Red’s Eats (p. 134), a hot-dog stand by the side of the road in downtown Wiscasset. For info on where to find some of the best boiled lobsters off the pier, see “Pier, Beer & Lobster” on p. 225.
Moxie: It’s hard to imagine it now, but early in the 20th century, the Maine-made soft drink Moxie outsold Coca-Cola. Part of its allure was the fanciful story behind its 1885 creation: A traveler named Moxie was said to have observed South American Indians consuming the sap of a native plant, which gave them extraordinary strength. The drink was then helpfully “re-created” by Maine native Dr. Augustin Thompson. It’s still very, very popular among old-timers in Maine, although some others say it tastes worse than cough medicine. Think Coke plus quinine, minus any sweetener.
Wild blueberries: You sometimes get the feeling, traveling in Downeast Maine, that the entire state’s economy would implode if anything ever happened to the blueberry crop; it’s grown and harvested (and added to recipes) everywhere in these parts. Look for roadside stands and diners advertising pies made with fresh berries in mid- to late summer. Also note that the tiny wild blueberries (which grow on low shrubs, often on wind-swept rocks or hilltops) are tastier than the bigger, commercially grown high-bush variety you’re probably familiar with.
Finally, no survey of Maine foods would be complete without a mention of the local beer. It seems you can’t swing a lobster without hitting a craft brewery up here, and Maine brewers have a terrific reputation in the industry. The Maine Brewers Guild counted more than 70 members when this book went to print, with a few more due to come online. Popular brewpubs to hit include Oxbow Brewery (Newcastle); the Maine Beer Company (Freeport); and Portland’s clutch of terrific mini-breweries—17, at last count, making it that U.S. city with the most breweries per capita (in your face, other Portland). See p. 108 for a Portland brewpub tour.
Lighthouses: A Tour Up the Coast
Unlike its neighbor Nova Scotia, Canada, Maine doesn’t maintain, advertise, or market a “Lighthouse Trail.” Various travel writers and bloggers have cobbled such itineraries together, though—which isn’t surprising, since the state has some of the best lighthouses in the United States. Most were built of stone in the early to mid–19th century, and nearly all were automated in the 1960s or 1970s with very few exceptions. (Today no keepers live full time in any Maine lighthouses.) To see them all, you’d need to drive the coast bottom to top—in other words, follow the chapters of this book in geographical order—and also be in possession of a boat.
Let’s forget about the boat for a minute and concentrate on those most easily seen by car; I’ve sprinkled references to Maine’s most visible lighthouses throughout this guidebook, but henceforth, a quick primer on connecting the dots and seeing them one by one, beginning with the southern coast. (Note: If you’re tacking on a side trip to Portsmouth, New Hampshire—described in greater detail in chapter 10—you’ve got a shot at even adding a few more lighthouses to your “seen-in-lifetime” list. See p. 260 for more on those.)
The Southern Coast Almost from the moment you cross the state line in Kittery, you’re on the scent of our Lighthouse Trail. Make a beeline for Fort McClary Historic Park, about a mile and a half east from downtown Kittery on the back road to York (Route 103). From the park, overlooking Portsmouth Harbor, you can view squat, gray-granite Whaleback Light. It’s not much to look at, though a private boat would help you get closer; public access to the lighthouse grounds is not permitted, however.
A few miles north of Kittery, detour off Route 1 to York Beach and head for Long Sands (see p. 60). Here, from the comfort of nothing more than a blanket or beach chair, you can—with good eyes—spy two lighthouses at once.
The first one, Nubble Light (p. 58), is obvious at the northern end of the beach. Sticking far out on a promontory, it’s the archetypal Maine light. For a closer look, drive to the northern end of the beach and hang a right, then drive the winding cape road to the turnoff for Sohier Park (parking is free). Here, from a rock or bench, you can get almost close enough to the fabled light to touch it—don’t try however; a dangerous narrow passage of water separates the viewing area from the rock-bound lighthouse. Snap a photo, then head up the hill for an ice-cream cone at Brown’s, again keeping your gaze fixed on the lighthouse as you eat.
The other lighthouse visible from Long Sands, the tall, slim, ghostly Boon Island light, demands a perfectly clear day and binoculars or exceptional vision. Gaze out to sea, roughly in the middle of the stretch between both ends of crescent-shaped Long Sands, and its hazy outline may appear to you. Though nearly 10 miles offshore, the granite tower stands more than 13 stories tall—New England’s tallest—which is why it can be seen.
Tiny, wind-swept Boon Island itself has an appropriately murky history: When a British ship ran aground here in 1710, survivors resorted to cannibalism for nearly 3 weeks to survive until a member of the party somehow sailed ashore and fetched help. Author Kenneth Roberts wrote a popular novel, Boon Island (1956), fictionalizing parts of this incident. Incredibly, the barren rock and its lighthouse was still inhabited as recently as 1978, when one of the worst winter storms in New England history destroyed all the outbuildings and part of the tower, where the keeper’s family cowered for several days awaiting rescue. Soon afterward, it was automated.
It’s a bit farther north to the next light. The small Goat Island Light lies just off the lovely hamlet of Cape Porpoise (see p. 81), north of Kennebunkport. (From Dock Square in the center of Kennebunkport, follow coastal Route 9 about 21⁄2 miles north and east to find the village.) The light has a storied history, including its use as a Secret Service command post protecting the family compound of President George H. W. Bush; a keeper who did a 34-year stint of duty on the rock; a caretaker who died in a boating accident in 2002; and Maine’s last lighthouse-keeping family, the Culps, who departed the light in 1990 and turned it over to automation and the care of the Kennebunkport Conservation Trust. The Trust maintains the 25-foot tower and keeper’s house and plans to restore the property further in the future. Boat visits are welcome.
At the mouth of the Saco River, where the big river enters the Atlantic at the Biddeford-Saco line, the cute little Wood Island Lighthouse and its keeper’s house still guard this passage—though you’d never know it, as the light’s almost impossible to view, except by boat. The light has a rich history, however, including tales of ghosts, murder most foul, and a keeper’s dog smart enough to ring bells by himself. The Friends of Wood Island Lighthouse (www.woodislandlighthouse.org) offer summertime boat tours to the island; otherwise, its premises can’t be visited by the public.
Greater Portland Greater Portland contains perhaps the finest—and most visited and photographed—lights on the whole of the Maine coast.
To view Cape Elizabeth Light, the southernmost light in the Portland area, head straight for Two Lights State Park (p. 104). (There were previously two working lights here; one was phased out). The light-keeper’s home is now privately owned, but this lighthouse has a rich lore, including daring rescues of shipwrecked sailors in the boiling, stormy sea and the work of painter Edward Hopper, who featured the light in several early-20th-century paintings. It is still an important signal on this rocky part of the coast. If you’re hungry after viewing it, be sure to drop by the outstanding Two Lights Lobster Shack (see p. 95) for a bite, and also visit the small souvenir shack on the rocks.
Just to the north, Portland Head Light (p. 100) has lovely proportions, an 80-foot beveled tower, a handsome keeper’s home (now a small museum), and a scenic position on a cliff before the horizon and the Atlantic. This is one of the very best lighthouses in Maine to view with the family—and one of the most popular and often photographed, as well. (Don’t come here for solitude.) Hundreds of thousands of visitors come each year to the free park from which it can be viewed, just off Shore Road in Cape Elizabeth. There’s also a gift shop.
From Portland Head Light, you can get a very good view of another lighthouse just offshore: the often-overlooked (probably due to its crude looks) Ram Island Light, built of Maine granite in 1905.
Next up, reachable by following South Portland’s Broadway to its end, is the Spring Point Light, an amusingly shaped light that somewhat resembles a fire hydrant. But take it seriously: It guards the heavily trafficked passage between Portland Harbor and the so-called Calendar Islands, a passage critical to oil and freight transport into and out of Maine. The light is set out at the end of the narrow stone breakwater, and can be walked up to and viewed but not entered except during special open houses held periodically, when you may view the keeper’s room, which is slowly being outfitted with period furnishings. There’s a museum, the Portland Harbor Museum (www.portlandharbormuseum.org; 207/799-6337), on the land side of the breakwater with plenty more information about the area. The light is also adjacent to both the pretty campus of Southern Maine Community College and the ruins of Fort Preble, good places for a picnic and a walk.
Nearby around the point, the Portland Breakwater Light—locally known as “Bug Light”—is a smaller, squatter version of the Spring Point light sitting on land that was once an important shipbuilding complex. A small, free city park surrounds the light.
Freeport to Midcoast From either Bath or South Freeport, you can take a boat tour to view the attractive high rock housing Seguin Island Light a few miles off Popham Beach. Contact Atlantic Seal Cruises (www.atlanticsealcruises.com; 207/865-6112), which runs weekly tours in summer, or the Maine Maritime Museum ( www.mainemaritimemuseum.org; 207/443-1316; see p. 127), which offers periodic cruises past the light. Due to the heavy fogs that frequently move into this area, the house sports Maine’s strongest (and most valuable) lens; it’s 12 feet high, and has been operating since 1857, the same year the keeper’s home and stone light tower were also constructed.
Smaller, weaker Pond Island Light, Cuckolds Light, the Perkins Island Light, Ram Island Light, and the mainland-based Squirrel Point Light are all located in the same general vicinity as Seguin, and they can also be viewed on the Maine Maritime Museum cruises or other charter runs from the Boothbay Harbor waterfront (p. 135). Squirrel Point’s light can also be hiked to via a rough trail that begins off Bald Head Road in Arrowsic.
Also in Arrowsic, some of Doubling Point Light’s grounds are free to roam. To reach here, cross the huge bridge from Bath, make an immediate right onto Route 127 south, and follow signs to the Doubling Point Road turnoff on the right. The light is connected to the keeper’s quarters by a long causeway, which is closed to the public. Two small related lights, known as the Range Lights, are housed in octagonal wooden towers near the Doubling Point grounds; these lighthouse grounds are also free to visit, and the towers are architecturally singular on the coast, though unsigned and a bit difficult to find. The Maine Maritime Museum’s special lighthouse cruises (see above) often pass by this set of lights.
From the pier in Boothbay Harbor (see p. 135), it’s easy to visit the handsome Burnt Island Light and its attractive complex of outbuildings: Catch an excursion from the pier, then settle in for one of the twice-daily summertime tours. Plan ahead, however; the tours take 2 to 3 hours apiece. Now owned by the state of Maine, the complex, still active as a navigational aid, is also home to a program of nature, arts, and even music courses—a real success story.
Before leaving Boothbay Harbor, you may wish to detour down the long peninsula to West Southport (take Route 27 to the turnoff for the village) to get a view of offshore Hendricks Head Light, now privately owned and beautifully restored.
Finally, there’s the Pemaquid Point (in Bristol) and its museum and the Marshall Point Lighthouse (in Port Clyde) and its museum, both of which I describe in greater detail in chapter 6 (see p. 137 and p. 143). Offshore on Monhegan island (see p. 141), there’s the Monhegan Island Light and its museum (open July–Sept; www.monheganmuseum.org; 207/596-7003). It’s well worth a look if you’re out on the island, and makes a fine, fitting end to this section of our ad hoc lighthouse trail.
Penobscot Bay The Midcoast region harbors plenty of lights, though many are small and posted on offshore rocks, thus inaccessible (and unviewable) by car. However, the squat Owls Head Light, now owned by the Coast Guard and still active, sits on a promontory in Knox County Lighthouse Park (207/941-4014); it can be viewed by anyone who can wrangle a parking spot in the lot. (The light itself, though, is off-limits.) Interestingly, there’s a long walkway and set of stairs connecting the keeper’s house to the actual light, making this one of the most visually pleasing of all Maine’s lighthouses.
The southernmost light of the two in the city of Rockland (see p. 146) is known as Rockland Harbor Southwest Light, and this light is fascinating: It’s the only one in Maine that was built by a private citizen. A local dentist constructed the light as both an aid to ships and a kind of homage to the other Rockland light (see below), and it began blinking on and off in 1987; today it’s an official navigational light and still privately held. From downtown Rockland, head south about 2 miles on Route 73 and hang a left onto North Shore Road.
The Rockland Breakwater Light sits at the northern edge of the harbor, sitting atop a handsome brick home about a mile out on a rugged stone breakwater; it’s easily viewed from the Samoset resort complex (see p. 149), but the grounds are only open to the public during summer weekends.
Rockport’s Marine Park is a good spot to look out at the attractive keeper’s house and its Indian Island Light; however, the light itself no longer functions. Just north in Camden (see p. 154), the Curtis Island Light is quite attractive—it sits on a private island, now owned by the city—but can only really be seen well from the deck of a sightseeing charter or windjammer cruise leaving from the harbor. Just north of Camden in Lincolnville, stand on the ferry dock for a look at the Grindle Point Light, with its unusual squarish light tower—or, better yet, hop the ferry for an up-close look; it docks on Isleboro nearly beside the lighthouse. The light is part of a public park that includes a small museum built as a memorial to sailors.
Continuing north, pull off Route 1 at signs for Stockton Springs if you want a look at the tiny Fort Point Light, still active and now a state historic site. It’s not the most impressive of the state’s lights, however.
Castine (see p. 170) is already attractive enough, but the presence of the Dice Head Light makes it even more so. Besides the keeper’s house (privately owned), the property features an unusual rough, conical stone tower (though the actual light is no longer atop this interesting structure). Simply follow Route 166 to its very end for a look. There’s a foot trail to the water (with steps) that’s open to the public, but be respectful of the keeper’s house; it’s private property.
There are three lighthouses on or just offshore Deer Isle (see p. 174), but one is no longer active and the other two can only be seen from a boat cruising off the island’s back shore.
Finally, the Robison Point Light on Isle au Haut (see p. 178) is accessible to the public—in fact, this is the only lighthouse in Maine where you can sleep in the keeper’s house (May–October). Contact the Keeper’s House (www.keepershouse.com; 207/335-2990) for current rates and availability; there’s no phone and no electricity, but the owners will prepare a gourmet meal for you if you wish.
Mount Desert Island & Downeast Mount Desert Island and its surrounding islands (see chapter 8) are home to very few lights that can be visited or viewed by the public. One that can is the Bass Harbor Head Light, a famed symbol of Acadia National Park, on Mount Desert’s western lobe, down Route 102A past Southwest Harbor. The complex includes a cylindrical light tower, simple keeper’s house, triangular fog signal, and even a barn.
From Bass Harbor, head for another light that can be visited by the public: the Burnt Coat Harbor Light (also known as Hockamock Head Light). To get here, however, you’ll need to catch a ferry from Bass Harbor to Swan’s Island. The squared brick tower and keeper’s home were built in 1872.
The downeast section of the Maine coast is rife with little ledges and lighthouses, often steeped in fog and usually off-limits to the public (and too far offshore or too indistinct to be seen anyway). The inactive Winter Harbor Light can be distantly glimpsed from the Schoodic Peninsula loop road (see p. 240).
The slim stone tower of the Petit Manan Light near Milbridge pokes an impressive 120 feet above the surrounding sea. However, it’s off-limits and difficult to see anyway. You can get a better look at it while taking a tour of the Maine Coastal Islands National Wildlife Refuge (see p. 240).
Finally, there’s the West Quoddy Head Light in Lubec (see p. 245), part of the state park of the same name, which is America’s easternmost point. There’s a museum on the lighthouse grounds, open daily from spring through Columbus Day. Check it out, then sit awhile to reflect on all you’ve seen on your lighthouse tour.
A Little Something Extra If you decide to begin your Maine coasting in Portsmouth, New Hampshire (see p. 250), you can take a side trip to the coast and glimpse a few more lighthouses. The cast-iron Fort Point Light (also known as Portsmouth Harbor Lighthouse), part of the state’s Fort Constitution Historic Site (www.portsmouthharborlighthouse.org; 603/436-1552), is on Route 1B near the Wentworth by the Sea resort ( p. 255). It can be viewed from the historic site—which is free to enter—from May through October, but can only be entered on Sunday open-house days during that season; admission is $4 for adults and $2 for children.
There’s also the brick White Island Light, offshore in the Isles of Shoals and too far to be seen except when taking a cruise of the islands. Contact the Isle of Shoals Steamship Co. (www.islesofshoals.com; 603/431-5500) about periodic lighthouse cruises of the area.
For more on Maine’s (and New Hampshire’s) lighthouses and preservation efforts, contact the American Lighthouse Foundation, P.O. Box 565, Rockland, ME 04841 (www.lighthousefoundation.org; 207/594-4174).
The Great Outdoors
While southern Maine has classic beach towns where the smell of salt air mixes with coconut oil and taffy, much of the rest of the Maine coast is unruly and wild. In parts it seems to share more in common with Alaska—you can see bald eagles soaring above and whales breaching below. In between these two archetypes, you’ll find remote coves perfect for a rowboat jaunt and isolated offshore islands accessible only by sea kayak.
The best places for coastal adventure are often not the most obvious places—those tend to be crowded and more developed. You’ll need to do a bit of homework to find the real treasures. A growing number of specialized guidebooks and outfitters can help point visitors in the right direction; some of the best are mentioned below.
Keep in mind that no other New England state offers as much outdoor recreational diversity as Maine. Bring your mountain bike, hiking boots, sea kayak, canoe, fishing rod, and/or snowmobile—there’ll be plenty for you to do here.
If your outdoor skills are rusty or nonexistent, brush up at the L.L.Bean Outdoor Discovery Schools (www.llbean.com/outdoorsOnline/odp; 888/552-3261), which offers a series of lectures and workshops that run anywhere from 2 hours to 3 days. Classes are offered at various locations around the state, covering a whole range of subjects, including fly-fishing, outdoor photography, and first aid in the wilderness. L.L.Bean also hosts periodic (and popular) canoeing, sea-kayaking, and skiing festivals that bring together instructors, lecturers, and equipment vendors for 2 or 3 days of learning and outdoor diversion. Call for a brochure, or check the L.L.Bean website for a schedule.
The places you’ll be traveling are not just scenery. They are the home to millennia of natural history (volcanoes, icebergs, polar bears, whales, and caribou, oh my!), as well as a deep human history (lobstermen, Vikings, and native Canadians fishing and hunting long before Europeans showed up). And the great part is, this story continues today: These layers overlap in fascinating ways to create the “place” that is now coastal Maine. Understand these creatures and landscapes you’ll be interacting with before you get there, and you’ll have a better trip—and become a more ecologically aware traveler with a deeper respect for what you’re experiencing.
Pick up the books of Canadian author Farley Mowat; a locally written book on eastern Canadian geography, geology, natural history, or native Canadian culture (library book sales and local gifts shops are two great sources); or a novel by E. Annie Proulx. For information about the whales you’ll be glimpsing (and how to respect them), visit the Whale and Dolphin Conservation organization (us.whales.org). For info on traveling lightly in general, see Tread Lightly (www.treadlightly.org) online.
BEACHes Swimming at Maine’s ocean beaches is for the hardy. The Gulf Stream, which prods warm waters south toward the Cape Cod shores, veers toward Iceland south of Maine and leaves the state’s 5,500-mile coastline washed by a brisk Nova Scotia current, an offshoot of the arctic Labrador current. During summer, water temperatures along the south coast may top 60°F (16°C) during an especially warm spell where water is shallow, but it’s usually cooler than that. Northeast of Portland a handful of fine beaches await—including popular Reid State Park (p. 127) and Popham Beach State Park (p. 127)—but rocky coast defines this territory for the most part. Maine’s best beaches are found mostly between the New Hampshire border and Portland.
The southern beaches are beautiful but rarely isolated. Summer homes occupy the low dunes in most areas; mid-rise condos give Old Orchard Beach (p. 110) a mini-Miami air. Some of the best swimming beaches in the region are at Ogunquit (p. 62), which boasts a 3-mile-long sandy strand (some of which has a mildly remote character), and Long Sands Beach (p. 60) and Short Sands Beach (p. 60) at York. Long Sands has great views of the sea and a nearby lighthouse plus great walking at low tide (at high tide, the sand disappears completely), while Short Sands has a festive, carnival atmosphere. Both lie right on Route 1A. There are also a number of fine beaches in the greater Portland area; for a primer on the very best, see p. 104.
If you love swimming but aren’t especially keen on shivering, head inland to the sandy beaches at Maine’s wonderful lakes, where the water is tepid by comparison. A number of state and municipal parks offer access. Among the most accessible to the coast is Sebago Lake State Park ( 207/693-6613), about 20 miles northwest of Portland; a small admission fee is charged.
BIKING In southern Maine, Route 103 and Route 1A offer pleasant scenery for bikers. Otherwise, I recommend bringing your bike to the bigger islands for car-free cruising. In Casco Bay, rustic Chebeague Island offers a pleasantly wooded excursion (the path cuts through forests to the sea), while more populous Peaks Island (p. 103) has a few cafes, more culture, and the advantage of a bicycle-rental shop near the ferry dock. Both are flat, and both are conveniently connected to Portland by Casco Bay Lines ferries. (Peaks is a much shorter ferry ride, if time matters.)
Serious mountain biking is also available in parts of coastal Maine, for those who like to get technical on two wheels. Your best bet is to consult area bike shops for the best trails, which are typically a matter of local knowledge.
The Maine Department of Transportation (DOT) publishes a list of more than 30 popular bike trips around the state; you can find some in the print Maine Invites You Brochure found at many chamber offices and rest stops, or log on to www.exploremaine.org/bike to get it. The Bicycle Coalition of Maine also keeps an exhuastive list of “Where to Ride” resources at www.bikemaine.org.
BIRDING Birders from southern and inland states should lengthen their life lists along the Maine coast, which attracts migrating birds cruising the Atlantic flyway (there are warblers galore in spring) and boasts populations of numerous native shorebirds, such as plovers (including the threatened piping plover), terns, whimbrels, sandpipers, and dunlins. Gulls and terns are frequently seen; you’ll see a surfeit of herring and great black-backed gull, along with the common tern. Less frequently seen are Bonaparte’s gull, the laughing gull, the jaeger, and the arctic tern. For a recording of recent sightings of rare birds, call 207/781-2332.
CAMPING For information about state parks, many of which offer camping, contact the Bureau of Parks and Lands (www.campwithme.com; 207/287-3821). To make camping reservations at most state park campgrounds, call during business hours on a weekday between February and early September (800/332-1501 in Maine, or 207/624-9950).
Maine also has more than 200 private campgrounds spread throughout the state, many offering full hookups for RVs. For a guide to the private campgrounds, contact the Maine Campground Owners Association (www.campmaine.com; 207/782-5874). Campsites get booked quickly for summer weekends, so call ahead for reservations.
Canoeing For many outdoors enthusiasts in the Northeast, Maine is very alluring to serious paddlers. In fact, you can’t travel very far in Maine without stumbling upon a great canoe trip. The state’s best canoeing tends to be far inland and deep in the woods, true, but day paddlers can still find good trips at several lakes along the coast or in some of the protected bays. Two excellent sources of detailed canoeing information are the AMC River Guide: Maine and Quiet Water Canoe Guide: Maine, both published by the Appalachian Mountain Club (www.amcboston.org).
FISHING Anglers from all over the Northeast indulge their grand obsession on Maine’s 6,000 lakes and ponds and its countless miles of rivers and streams. And deep-sea-fishing charters are available at many of the harbors along the Maine coast, with options ranging from inshore fishing expeditions for stripers and bluefish to offshore voyages in search of shark, cod, and pollock. Prices might typically range from $40 per person for day trips to $900 to charter an offshore boat for the day. Visitor information centers and chambers of commerce listed in this guide will be able to match you up with the right boat to meet your needs.
Saltwater fishing in Maine requires no license, if you’re a passenger on a for-hire vessel. For freshwater fishing, nonresident licenses are $64 for the season or $23 for 3 days. One-, 7-, and 15-day licenses are also available. Fees are reduced for children (ages 12−15), and no license is required for those 11 and under. These licenses are available at many outdoor shops and general stores throughout the state or by mail from the address below. For a booklet of fishing regulations, contact the Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife (www.maine.gov/ifw; 207/287-8000).
GOLFING Many of Maine coast’s best courses are private, but a few of these gems are open to the public. Kennebunkport’s Cape Arundel Golf Club (www.capearundelgolfclub.com; 207/967-3494) is favored by a certain ex-president when he’s in town. Other courses I like along the coast—nearly all of them wafted by sea breezes—include Cape Neddick Country Club in Ogunquit (www.capeneddickgolf.com; 207/361-2011), the Kebo Valley Golf Club in Bar Harbor (www.kebovalleyclub.com; 207/288-3000), the Webhannet Golf Club in Kennebunk Beach (www.webhannetgolfclub.com; 207/967-2061), the Riverside Golf Course in Portland (www.riversidegolfcourseme.com; 207/797-3524), and South Portland’s Sable Oaks Golf Club (www.sableoaks.com; 207/775-6257). But the best public course on the whole coast of Maine might be the Samoset Resort Golf Club in Rockport (www.samoset.com/golf; 207/594-1431): several holes run right alongside the Atlantic and past a mini-lighthouse. It’s as scenic as golf gets.
HIKING Southern Maine’s walks are not hikes but rather less-demanding strolls; many of these are a matter of local knowledge. Two fine pathways skirt the water in York (see p. 59), and even in Portland (see p. 102) you can saunter on well-maintained (and heavily used) recreational pathways along about 5 miles of tidal waters.
More serious hiking, however, is available as you get further north. Camden Hills State Park (see p. 160) has some 30 miles of hiking trails, including a 1000-foot climb to the ocean vistas atop Mount Megunticook. Acadia National Park (see p. 185) is a day-hiker’s paradise, with trails like the Dorr Ladder Trail that ascend stone steps and ladders anchored to granite; mellower, but no less scenic shorefront footpaths, like the one around Jordan Pond; and breathtaking ridgewalks, like the trail over Acadia Mountain. Serious backpackers hoping to tent it for a night or two will need to look inland—Baxter State Park (p. 262) in the Maine north woods is their Shangri-La, with 200 miles of backcountry trails crisscrossing the closest thing New England has to wilderness. An excellent resource for searching hiking trails by location and difficulty is www.mainetrailfinder.com.
SEA KAYAKING Sea kayakers nationwide migrate to Maine for world-class sea kayaking. Thousands of miles of deeply indented coastline and thousands of offshore islands have created a wondrous kayaker’s playground. Paddlers can explore protected estuaries far from the surf or test their skills and determination with excursions across choppy, open seas to islands far offshore. It’s a sport that can be extremely dangerous (when weather shifts, the seas can turn on you in a matter of minutes), but can yield plenty of returns with the proper equipment and skills.
The nation’s first long-distance water trail, the Maine Island Trail, was created here in 1987. This 325-mile waterway winds along the coast from Portland to Machias, incorporating some 200 state and privately owned islands (and mainland sites) on its route. Members of the Maine Island Trail Association, a private nonprofit group, help maintain and monitor the islands and in turn are granted permission to visit and camp on them as long as they follow certain restrictions (for example, no visiting designated islands during seabird nesting season). The association seeks to encourage low-impact, responsible use of these natural treasures, and joining is a good idea if you’ll be doing some kayaking. The MITA guidebook, published annually, provides descriptions of all the islands in the network and is free with association membership (note that the guide is available only to members). For membership details, contact the Maine Island Trail Association (www.mita.org; 207/761-8225).
The islands and protected bays around Portland make for great kayaking, as do the cliffs, parks, and beaches just south of the city—though surf can be rough at times. Make sure you’re experienced enough to handle it.
For novices, a number of kayak outfitters take guided excursions ranging from an afternoon to a week. Outfitters include the Maine Island Kayak Co. on Peaks Island (www.maineislandkayak.com; 207/766-2373) in the Portland area and Maine Sport Outfitters, located on Route 1 in Rockport (www.mainesport.com; 207/236-8797).
Hiring a Guide
Guides of all kinds may be hired throughout the region, from grizzled fishing hands who know local rivers like their own homes to young canoe guides attracted to the field because of their interest in the environment. Alexandra and Garrett Conover of Maine’s North Woods Ways (www.northwoodsways; 207/997-3723), are among the most experienced in the region. The couple offers canoe trips on northern Maine rivers (including a Thoreau’s Maine Woods trip), and are well versed in North Woods lore.
Maine has a centuries-old tradition of guides leading “sports” into the backwoods for hunting and fishing, although many now have branched out to include recreational canoeing and more specialized interests, such as bird-watching. Professional guides are certified by the state; you can learn more about hiring Maine guides by contacting the Maine Professional Guides Association (www.maineguides.org); the website features links to some of its members.
Elsewhere, contact the appropriate chambers of commerce for suggestions on local guides.
Guided Tours
Guided tours have boomed in recent years, both in number and variety. These range from 2-night guided inn-to-inn hiking trips to weeklong canoe and kayak expeditions, camping each night along the way. A few reputable outfitters to start with include the following:
Backroads (www.backroads.com; 800/462-2848 or 510/527-1555), has an extensive inventory of trips, including a 5-day bike trip from MDI to Rockland, following the contours of Penobscot Bay. This trip involves moderate physical challenge and nights in a few lovely hotels and inns.
Country Walkers (www.countrywalkers.com; 800/464-9255 or 802/244-1387) has a glorious color catalog (more like a wish book) outlining supported walking trips around the world. Among its Maine offerings: walking tours in Acadia National Park. Trips run 6 nights and include all meals and lodging at appealing inns.
Maine Island Kayak Co. (www.maineislandkayak.com; 800/796-2373 or 207/766-2373) has a fleet of seaworthy kayaks for camping trips up and down the Maine coast. The firm runs a number of 2- and 3-night expeditions each summer and has plenty of experience in training novices.
Vermont Bicycle Touring (www.vbt.com; 800/245-3868), is one of the more established and well-organized touring operations, with an extensive bike tour schedule in North America, Europe, and New Zealand. VBT offers several trips in Maine, including a 6-day Acadia trip.
Local outdoors clubs are also a good source of information, and most offer trips to nonmembers. The largest of the bunch is the Appalachian Mountain Club (www.outdoors.org; 671/523-0655), whose chapters run group trips almost every weekend throughout the region, with northern New Hampshire especially well represented.