Last weekend offered two perfect autumn days–crisp and cool, and right
about in the peak of leaf-peeping season. I took the opportunity to
spend a little time out amongst the leaves, exploring two new trail
systems weaving through the woods of Maine–one practically in our
backyards and the other a fairly short and scenic drive away.



After a tasty turkey sandwich at 158 on Saturday afternoon I biked my
way across the city via the Eastern Trail and more congested networks
to Clark’s Pond, anxious to walk the trail freshly blazed by the South
Portland Land Trust. Clark’s Pond is right in the middle of what must
be one of the most densely developed areas in Maine, surrounded by
I-295, I-95, the Maine Mall, the Jetport, and all the other industry
and commercial development of that end of the city. But the small body
of water, circled by a hilly forest, is nature’s last holdout. The pond
seems to have been ignored and forgotten in recent times, thought of
mainly in terms of the required setbacks and other limitations to
development it mandated. But it was only a half-century ago that
fisherman would line the pond’s banks, and not long before that others
would rely on the pond for the ice they would harvest there in winter.



Now, once again, the value of Clark’s Pond has been redeemed–just go
look for yourself. Parts of the trail are still rough, and the recent
rain has left them muddy in areas, but for a trail created in two days,
it’s an impressive accomplishment. I was surprised how deep the woods
are, and how far the trail extends. The Land Trust had around a hundred
volunteers, including most of the city council, helping create the
trail two weeks ago, and it’s already getting abundant use. While I was
on the trail I ran into seven people, including a young girl with her
mother (or grandmother). “This trail is more difficult that I
expected,” she told me, after scrambling up a muddy incline.



Other features alongside the trail include the rotting bones of a
moose, a nylon tent where someone appears to have been residing, and
areas of higher elevation that provide a nice view of the length of the
pond. Once you’re on the trail, you only get a few glimpses of the road
and surrounding businesses, and if it wasn’t for the din of planes and
traffic, someone could be fooled into thinking they were really in the
wilderness. The easiest way to access the trail is by the sidewalk that
runs by the Home Depot. The trail also intersects Westbrook Street
right by I-295, but there’s nothing marking it along that congested
intersection except a bandana hanging from a tree.



On Sunday I headed for a slightly less new and much larger trail system
an hour and fifteen minute drive north, in Rome, Maine. Kennebec
Highlands, a 6,100-acre nature preserve established six years ago with
Land For Maine’s Future funds, includes 18 miles of hiking trails that
lead through the largest mountains in Kennebec County alongside the
shores of the Belgrade Lakes. With at least a two-hour drive to the
bigger mountains of Western Maine or the Whites, I often miss living in
Farmington or Bar Harbor or Old Town where vigorous hikes are just down
the street. But Rome, just east of Vienna, and west of Belgrade, (at
least in Maine) is close enough to make for an easy full or half day
trip. The mountains are much more like the ones in Acadia than those
further west like Bigelow and Saddleback. The views, easily attainable
after a short ascent, offer instant gratification with panoramas of the
sprawling lakes below. If you want a challenge, one mountain won’t do
it, but with 18 miles and several mountains, you can just keep on
hiking. Because they’re not very steep the trails seem perfect for
snowshoeing or cross-country skiing, and I’m hoping we have lots of
snow this winter to blanket them.



Although my friend and I, deep in conversation, managed to get lost on
the way there, finding the Highlands is actually very easy. Take 95 to
Augusta, then take Route 27 past Belgrade Lakes to Watson Pond Road on
your left. Drive down and park at one of the three trailheads.