Wild Crow Motorcycle Tour by Stephen Vose (Part II)
Arriving in Presque Isle, I connected with friends and was presented with the fact that we had a “couple” of easy miles left to travel to make it to our intended camping location. There is something to be said for Aroostook natives and their estimation of distance is vastly different than most. About ½ an hour later, we completed the final stretch comprised of broken pavement and dirt roads . . . shaken but not stirred.
I was pleased to see that the festivities had already begun and over a dozen tents dotted the small campsite. A large bonfire had been started and the fragrant aroma of charred meat hung heavily in the damp air.
After setting up camp, I immediately launched into a conversation with a local on where one might find good fishing. I was informed that only a “couple” yards away ran the Aroostook river and that it was loaded with 10 and 12 inch brook trout. The next morning, I managed to hike the mile to mile and a half over blow downs and through fields of raspberry bushes down to the river but after several hours of dragging a dozen different lures through the clear waters I didn’t manage to temp even a single fish.
During the walk back to the campsite, I did manage to find a few photographic opportunities. Originally, I had made this trip with the express purpose of taking photos of either the potato or mustard fields in full bloom but overcast skies and the constant threat of rain showers made acceptable shot possibilities practically impossible.
A FULL all you can eat Aroostook breakfast of pancakes, sausage, eggs and bacon was served and the hungry masses quickly satisfied. After thoroughly stuffing myself, I jumped in my friend’s pick-up and we headed out to “camp”. According to my Aroostook county friend Camp was a “couple” of miles away and set on the shores of Squapan lake. After listening to the entire Led Zepplin IV CD on our trip over to Squpan, I was beginning to see a trend in regional estimations concerning distance.
We arrived at camp and joined in on the festivities and I was about ready to pick up a fishing pole when I saw one of the locals pull up a monster 3 ½ inch chub. When I inquired if I could expect better fishing he said no and I headed directly for the horseshoe pit. I finished the day with a 9 win 1 loss record and have to blame my good fortune on the fact that it was my birthday . . . Heavy rain showers finally put an end to the activities at around 4:00 PM and we all piled into our vehicles and headed back to our camp site.
Awaking the next morning, dark skies were once again threatening rain and I realized that it was a high possibility that my ride to Calais to visit family was going to be very wet. I packed up my gear, bid old and new friends farewell, swung my leg over the iron horse and sped off down the road toward Houlton, Danforth and finally Calais . . . story will continue shortly!
For the rest of the Wild Crows Motorcycle Adventure See:
Wild Crows Motorcycle Tour Part I
Wild Crows Motorcycle Tour Part II
Wild Crows Motorcycle Tour Part III
Wild Crows Motorcycle Tour Part IV
Wild Crows Motorcycle Tour - Podcast