Can I have the Front Seat? #33

It’s a very early morning in the North Maine Woods.  As the fog lifts off the water, and the loons, now quiet after having voiced their opinion much earlier, are now taking time out to rest their voice. As I look out over the water, I wonder what the day has to offer us.

 This particular morning, we prepare for our plane ride from Chandler Lake to Fourth Musquacook Lake to check on the camp there. Our chariot is at the end of the dock tied up and ready to go.

 As TC and I jump in with pilot Jason and Sherry, we can’t help but look out over Chandler Lake and just think about how beautiful this country is, and how lucky we are to be able to be a part of it. We are really looking forward to the short trip over, and will be taking in all the sites once in the air. As we leave the dock, TC, Sherry, Jason and I taxi over to the far end of the lake, I look back at the camps and just sit there in amazement.

 Jason and TC are in the front and Sherry and I are in the back. As Jason comes to the end of the lake, he turns the Cessna around and points it into the wind. He revs up the engine and lets it go. We gain speed and go by the camps and then the plane begins its climb into the air over the North Maine Woods. In no time we are up and making our way to Fourth. As we travel, Jason keeps me informed about where we are and what lakes and ponds lay below us. The morning is clear and we can see for as far as your eyes can take you.  We pass over ponds that I have fished and we take in new ponds that I would love to find my way to.

 I also notice the forest and the beauty that it has. You can see miles and miles of uncut greenery, only broken by the clear blue water.

In no time, we are descending at Fourth Lake and taxing up to the camps. This is my first time at the camps and they are beautiful.

We pull up to the dock, and Jason jumps out and ties his plane down. We all bail out and get a tour of another one of the best kept secrets in the North Maine Woods. I am told that this camp was once owned by International Paper and they used to come to it for retreats and other activities. Next to it is another smaller camp that is under repair, and a garage. We take it all in and promise to come back to stay sometime in the near future, but, unfortunately, it is time to get into the plane and head back. TC lays claim to the back seat, so I jump in the front.  I now have great viewing from my vantage point. Jason unties us and pushes the Cessna out. He starts the engines and quickly spins us around and revs the engine up. We travel down the waterway and up into the blue sky heading back to Chandler Lake. On our way back, Jason takes a bit of a detour to show me some new territory, including some great fishing spots, and he tells me how to get there over land. Then he points the plane in the homeward direction and in no time I can see Chandler Lake in the distance. Jason comes in over the tree tops and lands on the lake like we were on a carpet. He slows the plane down and steers it to the dock and cuts the engine as we glide back to where we started.

          As we come to a stop, I cannot help but think about the folks that frequented these woods many years ago, and how they got around before there were many roads. I am told that when Chandler Camps were first built, the only true access was by plane. A gentleman from Portage Lake used to fly the owners and all of their gear in and bring food and other items in as they needed them. If you stop and think about it, they were totally cut off from the outside world. Today in a world with TV, cell phones, computers, video games and what not, I bet it would be tough for many people to be that sheltered like they were.  What do you think? Could you have done it? I know I could have.