Lake snob

I am a lake snob. I admit it. I grew up on the most beautiful and elegant lake in existence; Lake Memphremagog, otherwise known by native peoples as "beautiful waters."  This lake stretches across the US/Canadian border. We lived on the Canadian side. After ten blissful summers on this lake, I attended summer camp on the second most beautiful lake in existence; Lake Champlain. I have had a charmed life and I know it.

When I met David, he told me of the lake his mother's family had gone to since 1900 called Lobster Lake in northern Maine. I was skeptical. The name alone was off putting. I soon learned that it was shaped like a lobster claw but it still seemed hokey. Nothing could be as good as MY lakes!

When dating (I knew this was a test) we canoed to Lobster Lake on the West Branch of the Penobscot River in the rain. On arriving at the camp the caretaker had made a roaring fire and the propane lamps were blazing. I felt at home. No electricity? No problem. I grew up this way at the Hemlocks! The hum of propane was music to my ears. I still kept comparing this wilderness lake to my Canadian lake and soon realized they were both special in their own ways.

We were at Lobster this summer. The beavers have been active with damming up the river, the road is flooded but the caretaker Woody kindly drove his pick up truck out to get us and our gear. I was glad to be back to the quiet of no electricity. Above are clues on how we wash our dishes (three pots to boil water and one pot for tea....) and how we make toast. I did not photograph the gas lights but they are exactly like the ones we had in our house in Canada.

I have come to appreciate this wilderness lake far up in the Maine woods. It is one of the few places in the world that is truly quiet.

Next week I will be returning to Lake Memphremagog with my sister, Ruth.  Returning to a real lake. To my first lake. I was three months old when I my mother rigged up a basket between two hemlock trees to create an outside cradle.  No wonder I am loyal to this piece of ground.
It was my first wild place.