Impossibly tall, with an appearance at once majestic and goofy, we rounded a corner and saw a Moose! On bikes on the logging road, we were about 40 yards away. We knew he was a boy – he had a beautiful rack of antlers. Agog, we could barely get the camera out for a few photos as he stalked away into the trees. We’ve never been in close proximity to a moose before – just distant glimpses in Wyoming.
We had set up camp on a wooded rise at the confluence of Machias River and the West Branch of the Machias. This night, we were in an actual campsite. It was about 5 miles into the woods on the dirt logging road. But the campsite was completely deserted at this time of year except for us and the birds and chipmunks. After our moose bike ride, we put the kayak in the Machias at our camp.
I used to do sprint-distance triathlons. Doing two out of the three sports in a training session was called a ‘brick’. So, on this day in the beautiful wilds of Maine, our brick was a bike ride and paddle.
Gratitude was the overriding emotion of the day for me. I am grateful that, after the cancer ordeal, here I am, in this beautiful place far from civilization. I’m also so grateful for my wonderful husband, who really made this possible. We’re just ordinary middle-class people. Yet we were able to stop working for awhile and go off into the woods. Absolutely priceless!