Hiking In Acadia Part Three: Sun, Surf, and Soaking It In

After a heavy day of hiking, walking, and running through the wilderness paths of Acadia, Jamie and I decided to change our pace a bit for the next day. We had discovered an absolutely beautiful stretch of rocky coastline (there are several, but this one was ours) in Acadia where we could take time to read, to write, to reflect, and to soak in the surf. And so, our pilgrimage was a bit shorter and more intentionally focused. Rather than scrambling from trail to trail and taking in new experiences at each stop, we decided to make our way to one place and plant ourselves for a spell. Partially this was a decision based on a bit of a twinge in my Achilles from a speedy 9.3 mile run the previous day, but mainly it was a decision based on finding our Acadia surfside sanctuary.

We made our way quietly along this path in the early morning and dipped down onto the rocky shore of Mount Desert Island’s southeastern shore. The sun appeared in fullness and for a significant period for the first time since our arrival. The waves crashed violently on the rocks, and the whole of our being sat mesmerized by the sights and sounds surrounding us. After reading and writing for a bit in a journal, I just sat back and watched the sporadic clouds above me change shapes as they drifted along the coastal sky. The rhythmic crash and retreat of the waves provided an exquisite soundtrack for this quiet Maine morning.

As if the sight and sounds weren’t already filling my heart and mind with rest and refreshment, I picked up a recently acquired book and started through a few pages. The book was a World War II story about the battle for Crete and how these island people formed an incredible resistance that gave Hitler fits. The book was about this moment in history, but in these opening chapters, it appeared to be as much about people who were living in good relationship with their surroundings—an aspiration for both myself and Jamie.

Sitting and reading, reflecting, and writing, Jamie and I both felt like this was a very different Acadia experience. It was as though we were adjusting to the rhythm around us and we were starting to experience true rest and refreshment. We were not concerned about the future, projects to be accomplished, or even thinking about what we were going to do when we got back home. We were content and our hearts were full with the gifts of the day.

And now, back in West Virginia, we have carried a piece of that Acadia morning in our hearts and into our daily routines. There is plenty of time for planning and working through logistics and conducting mental models for possible futures, but what we desire more of, and dare we say what all of us need more of is a sense of rest and relationship with the present moment and environment, wherever that might be. May we all aspire to find ourselves soaking in the sights, sounds, textures, and flavors of the present moment if not daily, then maybe weekly. And, if the time and space (and weather) permit, may we look heavenward as we lie upon the earth and watch the dance of clouds in the skies.

Hiking In Acadia Part Two: The Day We Hiked Our Faces Off

After a rip-roaring start to our first day of hiking in Acadia, we had decided that day two would be an attempt to explore as much of the park as we possibly could. We were due for 7.5 miles running as part of our training for Team Nuru International's Marine Corps Marathon exploits this fall, but we wanted to get some hiking in before our run. So we started on a fairly smooth and textured Ocean Path en route to Thunder Hole, but something about the path was just a little unappealing. It was a gravel path, and at least for the first few hundred feet it ran alongside a very busy stretch of road. We decided to backtrack and took another trail that took us along a small peninsula on the far side of Sandy Beach.

We looped around that trail and found a little rocky hideaway that I quickly became our favorite spot in the park. We enjoyed it so much that it became our place of rest and refreshment all of the remaining days we were in the park, but on this day, it was simply discovered and noted for a later time for further exploration.

After our first major hike of the day, we thought it was an appropriate time to venture toward Jordan Ponds House for some lunch including popovers-an interesting take on a roll that was pretty delicious! As we looked over the lunchtime fare, we decided on a buffalo meatloaf sandwich, and we were not disappointed. But we were pretty full, so we thought this was no time to think about going for a run. Instead we walked off the meal on a three mile hike around Jordan Pond Trail.

From there, we felt like we were ready, so we made a wardrobe change and donned our running threads. We made our way to Eagle Lake. It was a six mile loop, so we started thinking about creative ways to get extra mileage in. Where we landed was two different places on the mileage. Jamie made the statement that she was content with a little over six miles for her run since we had walked so many miles already, and that she wanted to run it easy. I decided the opposite, I wanted to run the distance a little harder, and try to push myself a little farther.

So we started the loop, and every couple of minutes, I would loop back to check on Jamie, and then dart forward again. In my mind, I wanted to push my pace, push my distance, and attempt to increase my steps per minute. The loop around Eagle Lake was a carriage road so it was graveled and even.  After our run we both felt energized and content. We finished together by walking up a connector road to our car and decided that we would call it a day after our run, order take-out, and make our way back to our room for rest and recovery. We logged about 19 miles that day!

Thinking back to it, there was something refreshing and enticing for each of us as we took different paths to push ourselves along trails both walking and running. It was as though the very wilderness was imbuing us with energy as we made our way along loops. I believe that as a result of our time, we are likely to incorporate more outdoor time into our weekly rhythms, and I hope that no matter where you live, your schedule affords you opportunity to do the same!

Hiking In Acadia Part One: Journey to the Summit

Recently, Jamie and I had the privilege of traveling together to our Nation's easternmost national park, Acadia. We thought that one of the best things we could do to celebrate five years of marriage as well as our love for the created world was to spend some time in a national park on the 100th anniversary of National Parks!

We arrived in Acadia in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday shortly after checking in at this exquisite bed and breakfast called Coach Stop Inn (check it out if you are in Maine and please say hello to Jim and Anna for us!). After a quick stop at the visitor center in Acadia, we began driving the park loop and trying to decide where we would hike first. By unanimous vote, we decided to make our way to the summit of Cadillac Mountain. We saw a sign for Gorge Path, and we were off. But, we decided that instead of hiking the Gorge Path straight up, we would go the opposite direction and see where it started. We ended up hiking along a connector trail that took us to the Cadillac North Ridge Trail. We hiked steadily and smoothly all the way to the summit. Training with our good friend Derek Roberts over the last couple of years on 13,000 and 14,000 foot summits probably made this a bit easier than it would have been otherwise, but it was still a strenuous and awe inspiring hike.

When we made it to the summit, we soaked in an enormous view of ocean and and islands in the distance and wilderness all around us. Of course the journey would not have been complete without a star jump from Jamie at the top to mark the accomplishment. :)


From the summit, we decided to loop back around to the Gorge Path and make our way back down to our car. The first quarter mile from the summit had some fairly steep descents and we found ourselves not just hiking but scrambling at points. The lower we descended, the more we were able to hear the steady flow of a stream journeying alongside us in the gorge. The trickle steadily grew in volume (both of water and of decibels) and by the time we had arrived to a flatter part of the trail, we were listening a much louder flow of water providing us pleasant background and acoustic accompaniment.

On both the upward and downward journeys we had to pause every few feet to bask in the beauty that surrounded us. Every time we stopped, the view was not only incredible, but incredibly different. One could probably make the case that every perspective is slightly different, but these views were as though whole new worlds were opening before us. Even though we were traveling at a far lower altitude, the splendor around us was reminiscent of Colorado mountains.


Eventually, we made our way back to our car, and traveled down the road to Bar Harbor for a delicious local meal that we thoroughly enjoyed. And looking back on that day, we were gifted with a good reminder to pause from time to time and enjoy the changes in perspective provided by the present moment.