I stepped onto the platform, amazed at how empty and clean the train was. Leah was waiting for me outside the station, grateful that I hadn’t taken another crowded and smelly Greyhound bus, which I promised myself for the fourth time I’d never do regardless of how cheap tickets were. We embraced and headed over to Gloucester, where we’d stay with her parents for a few days before driving up to Maine for the week.

Her folks owned a cabin right on Sebec Lake, one of the state’s more spectacular lakes. We had talked about visiting together for years but never prioritized it; international trips and visits to blockbuster destinations would always get the first pick on a limited pool of vacation days. With travel restrictions this year, the cabin in Maine seemed like the perfect spot to hide out from the pandemic and disconnect from the world. We saw on a map that we’d be close to Acadia National Park, and realized it’d be an ideal time to visit: the Canadian border was closed and the lack of cruise ships unloading tourists into Bar Harbor presented a once in a lifetime opportunity. I was also eager to give Acadia another chance: my first visit left me feeling that it was the Disneyland of national parks given how car-friendly it was.

On the evening before we left, Leah tried out her new wetsuit in the ocean a short walk from home. She was excited for swimming in Sebec Lake, which apparently would remain cold til late August. She made sure I didn’t forget to ask Ben for his wetsuit, which he kindly let me borrow.

The afternoon weather wasn’t looking too promising, so we decided to do just a short hike to the summit of Borestone Mountain. This trail might have been the most popular one in central Maine, but everyone we came across was heading down. Once we reached the top, the wind picked up and held on til the thick rain began pouring on us. Fortunately we were below treeline when the thunder was crackling into the open sky.

The following day we took out the canoe to Buck’s Cove, which Leah said was one of the more wilder parts of the lake. It hadn’t been inhabited by people since the Natives. The trees also grew thicker and darker on this edge of the lake . We even spotted a bald eagle perched on the edge of the water, watching us curiously from a distance.

After several days of relaxing and enjoying the lake views from the porch, we packed up and headed to the coast. On the drive we listened to a podcast about the 1947 fire in Maine that changed the ecology and population of Mount Desert Island. Shortly after we arrived to the park, we hiked up to the top of Acadia Mountain. Just as quickly as the fog lifted for us when we topped out, it enveloped us as we descended. We met a solo hiker named Chris who had grown up on the island before moving to settle in New York City. He asked if we wanted to hike and chat, which was a bit unusual given the pandemic. None of us had masks on and we didn’t make any intentional effort to keep a strict six feet of distance.

We drove along the park loop road a short distance to Thunder Hole. To get away from the few groups waiting to take photos at the main ‘splash zone’ vista, we kicked off our sandals and climbed down and up a steep chute to access a large rocky platform. We were just beyond eyeshot of the other visitors and certainly couldn’t hear them over the waves.

I was impressed at how much faster I could bike without exerting any effort. We certainly slowed down to enjoy any views, walking our bikes along gravel paths that led to the edge of the water. Our loop today would 42 miles on what was called the “quieter side” of the island. Our path took is in and out of the national park and residential streets. It was fun to see the homes and imagine what it might be like to live in such a scenic place. None of the houses were too gaudy; all seemed to prioritize being secluded, which wasn’t surprising: the park had over 3 million visitors in 2019. For context, the entire island has a population of 10,000.

I woke up the next day feeling pretty great in my legs, which didn’t surprise me. My recipe for recovery has a simple but strict regimen of aggressive hydrating (without alcohol), lots of protein, relaxing stretching, good sleep, and my favorite: blasting away any soreness with a massage gun (I use the Hypervolt). Today we’d be tackling a bigger loop of about 60 miles through the more populated side of Mount Desert Island. It was also Friday, July 3rd, so there’d be more car traffic to deal with. Fortunately we had clear skies and a nice breeze from the ocean to cool us off whenever we needed to catch our breath.

I was even more grateful today to be on two wheels, which allowed us stop wherever and whenever we wanted. There were random short paths that led out to amazing, secluded vistas just off the side of the road, some of which didn’t have a convenient spot to park a car. We were able to roll up and get a lesser-seen perspective on Acadia because of the freedom of being on a bike. I’m sure that earning our views with each pedal stroke also made the moments feel all the more special.

We closed out the evening by eating a spread of ice cream, pizza, curly fries, chips, and lobster rolls. It felt great to get real food in us after a diet of sucking down energy gels and chugging electrolyte water for the entirety of the day. We pulled up to Echo Lake, and ate our food on a small beach. We didn’t go in for a swim, but the freshwater here is some of the warmest on the island for taking a dip.

On our last day out in the park we had just enough time for a hike to the top of Mansell Mountain, overlooking Long Pond. As we drove through the island, we noticed that some parts of the island were shrouded in thick fog whereas driving two minutes away would open us up to a perfect summer morning with blue skies. The trail we took up was the Perpendicular Trail, a steep staircase of a path that was appropriately named. We happened to be on the foggy side of the island, so there wasn’t much for views, but any day on the trail is better than a day off trail.

We had a phenomenal week in Maine. Even on the days that it rained up in the cabin, we made the most of it by sitting on the porch watching the weather roll in and out, even swimming in the lake when it rained (you can’t get any more wet after all). It was both a relaxing and stimulating week. I changed my views on Acadia and got to experience it in a different way. I wouldn’t ever come again on the fourth of July, but if I did, I’d definitely be on two wheels and would avoid any of the popular, blockbuster trails unless I were to do them at odd hours (sunrise or very late in the day).

I hope you get a chance to experience some Acadia magic yourself. However you do it, be safe and be responsible! 😊