So I woke up in Sherbrooke, Canada, at 7am, ready to start the drive to Greenville. Allowed myself 2 more hours than Google suggested  - to get there in time and with no hurry. Left my friends, a bittersweet moment. But you can never have everything you want – not all at the same time. I think. So off I went to Maine.

Under a whole lotta rain. This time it was like a waterfall falling from the sky. I zigzagged down to the south, up and down the beautiful hills, until I arrived safely and in one piece in Greenville – precisely at 2:50. The group was scheduled to go out to the lake at 3. I do not know how I made it. It was an intense drive and the automatic pilot must have taken charge in some moments. It rained.

This was between two storms, on the road to Maine

Another shot during a break

In our group there were 3 couples – one English, in their 60s or 70s -  in awesome shape and in very good spirits, one from New York (a bit quiet, and with no idea of what a paddle looked like), and a funny couple from Ohio (the Pretenders’ song got stuck on my mind after I heard they were from Ohio – “Oh, way to go, Ohio“). On the way to the lake, in unpaved, off-the-map little roads, the rain gave us a break. We were all happy about it. It seems that it had been raining non-stop in Greenville, too.

We got to the lake and put our canoes on the water: 4 of them. Two persons in each. Long story short, guys: if you ever go to a lake out in the ass of nowhere, you freaking need to know how to paddle. Serious. The basic J-Stroke. Just saying. Trust me.

At this sight, I was expecting the Loch Ness Monster

Getting ready to canoe

The first minutes we were in the canoe, we spotted a moose… calmly, eating his moose stuff, by the lake… cool as a moose. A teenager one, for the antlers were not big yet (the older they get, the bigger the antlers grow). It was sweet to watch him. Sincerely, I would be happy to just stay right there, with my camera, trying to photograph him better, just watching him.  I had rented  telephoto lenses and was trying to take good shots from a canoe. This is really difficult, even with vibration reduction. I got some relatively decent shots out of the many I took. But if I had had more time, maybe I would have made better ones. And to tell you the truth, photographing them is good, but watching them is better.

And the moose said: “I pee on you”.

Stephanie, the girl from Ohio, who was an urologist, was quick to notice that that moose had no prostate issues. That was a memorable stream.

See more moose photos here.

The Lake

Lovely Weather

The guide (Steve) suggested that we paddled to the middle of the lake, to try to see more moose on the other side. Off we went. At this precise moment, the rain, that was just a sprinkle, became real rain. Minutes later, it became a little storm, progressing to what seemed to me, in the middle of that lake, a little hurricane. All of a sudden, we could barely see the other canoes, and the wind kept coming in gusts, bringing horizontal rain, diagonal rain, upside-down rain. Water, water, water everywhere. I put my cameras in a waterproof bag. Everything else in me – that had no waterproof protection – became soaking wet. At this point, it was wise to go back to land, to where we started. Paddle, paddle, paddle stronger, stronger, faster!

Ya think?

The couple from New York was the first to get entangled in roots, vegetation, rocks, power cables – you name it. If you can’t paddle in a straight line, again, think twice!!!! That couple got entangled in crap – like those earplugs that you need in a hurry and are at the bottom of your bag (mine always bring lipstick, chocolate leftovers, earrings & the like). We all needed to paddle against the wind towards them, so that we didn’t lose track of each other. We rescued them and tried to get back all together to the starting point. That was exactly like paddling up shit creek. Steve would yell “guys, you’re earning your dinner tonight!”, trying to keep it up, like we were really good boy scouts, and I kept paddling like the good girl scout that I have never been, watching that disastrous NY couple getting behind, behind, while ours and all the other canoes could not move one foot ahead. I was in the same canoe as Steve – and he was the guide and was used to it, and I was paddling with all my soul – still, it felt like we were walking on a treadmill. No progress. Not moving forward, not moving backwards. So it was a relief when we gave in and allowed ourselves to move backwards.

Steve wisely called everyone back and decided to get everyone on land exactly where we were at that fun moment (the other side of the lake). At this point the owner of the property where we were landed / were washed came to ask if we needed help. Ya think?

Abandoned canoe by the camp

Walking into a warm cabin felt like going to Heaven. Eric, the owner of the camp, ended up telling us the story of the property, and how it had been in his family since the 1800s. He brought us all inside the kitchen, where we smelled the (delicious! I didn’t taste it, but it was delicious) lasagna that he was cooking. I told him that I remembered seeing those cabins last time, and wanted to know how to get there. So I finally found out how to get there. All I needed to do was to get into a canoe in that lake and wait for the lovely wind to take me there.
I took some photos, but my lenses were blurred for the sudden and blessed temperature change. The West branch Pond Camp website is here.

In this meantime, the hero-guide Steve went back to pick the car and rescue us all.

We finally said “thanks a lot” to Eric and got all cozy in the big, warm van. Nice! Back to Greenville.

That was not the end of the adventure. 8 miles north of Greenville, all of a sudden, we felt Steve trying to control the car – it felt like the car was sliding. The girl who sat by the window said “I saw the tire spinning into the woods!”. That was it. Thanks to Steve’s skills, we didn’t end up all in another lake. The van stopped really close to the water. We all got out of the car and saw the scene: on the front left side, instead of a tire, there was nothing. Steve called the owner of the company and we over heard him saying “yeah, all of a sudden the tire passed us. But yeah, we saw a moose.”

Indeed, we saw a moose.

Steve showing off what he found in the woods

Rescue came soon after – Steve’s wife and Pat, the owner of the company. We were all exhausted and laughing. Maybe the tire thing was dangerous. But – you know what? nothing really happened and I must admit that at least I had a heck of a good time.

And the rain kept falling…

How can you not love these guys?

So, this year I decided to check them out again. The excuse was – I needed to see them with the antlers, and (I learned it!) they do grow antlers from April/May till September. The antlers, that grow only on males, seem to be the moose’s ultimate sex appeal. The bigger the antlers, the best – the female moose will be falling for the guy that seems to find food the most efficient way. Yes, because in order to grow those things, you need to eat a ton of tasty tweaks (“moose” = “tweak eater” in some native language), and it’s a heck of a skill to find the good juicy tweaks. So if you’re a male with big antlers, you’re a rock star. A Hollywood celebrity. Ot whatever – a real hot dude. You’re healthy and worthy of becoming a moosie-dad. You know, women actually make natural selection happen. Ah… women, I know!
So off I went – this year, by myself. First I stopped in Boston – needed to check that old city – what an architecture, what an European feel. Good to check it out, even though it was quick. I was dying to get on the road. I rented a car and drove to Sherbrooke, Canada (as, you know… it was “so close”). I saw two old dear friends from Rio that just bravely finished their masters with honors. We had good laughs together for a night… then I took the road to Monson, Maine, again. What a feeling, to drive in those mountains, with those fall colors starting to show! Ahhhh… Even though the rain followed me everywhere – not just a little sprinkle, but sometimes it felt like I was driving in a waterfall. I had a moment when I regretted the day I thought that it “wasn’t too much road”. It was a lot of driving in 2-lane roads, zig-zagging across the mountains. But that feeling disappeared once I made it to Monson and Greenville, and was out on the tiny, off-the-map roads to see the big guys again.

Below are some pictures of Boston (again, what a lovely city!), the road to Canada (ahhhh…. driving through Vermont and New Hampshire is something I will never forget) and my friends in Sherbrooke. I took sometime inside a Frank Ghery’s building in the MIT that I really wanted to know. That should be another entry, in another category. Let’s go by parts.