On the Beatnik Path

Picture this: Summer, Maine, 2003.
While working as a camp counselor in Maine, I opted for adventure on my next day off and took a break from influencing children’s lives. In good company I set out for Kennebec State Park, not just for camping, but to brave the white rapids of the Penobscot River. The scenery was awe-inspiring, and the campground had cabin tents in a private setting that accommodated our entire group. By camping the night before our journey, we were able to meet other brave travelers and enjoyed the pre-game festivities.
Dawn arose with a school bus ride to the launch, and our driver was an eccentric fellow. Proved true, when I saw him instinctively toss a small cooler from the window a few miles down the road. No one noticed, so I chocked it up to visions of the morning hour.
Upon arrival we signed our lives away, met our raft guide, and pushed out into the wilderness. The Penobscot boasts Class IV and IV+ rapids, one of the most extreme being just after the take out; the Exterminator. This sudden rush set the tone for the journey down river, and I was feeling optimistic of my paddling skills. The river is divided into the upper and lower sections, and our guide suggested we “surf” some of the smaller rapids before stopping for lunch midway. Moments in, the boat tipped spilling forth my cohorts and pinning me under. As the water swirled around me, there was suddenly light, and I reached for the nearest object; my friends oar. Losing her grip, the oar left her hands and I suddenly had two oars, no boat, but a strategically placed rock.
After a few moments of collection and a little lunch to replace what I lost in the river, I approached the second half with gusto. Humming the tune to “Chariots of Fire”, I took on a new persona for the next leg.
As before, our guide suggested to give “surfing” a second try downriver, and as before the boat tipped. This time it was our guide who was expelled, who began scaling the mountainside, leaving us to navigate into the Take-Out.
Pulling onto shore, I was met again by our bus driver. He smiled, reached into a nearby bush, retrieving the pre-mentioned cooler. As the surprise swept across my face, he handed me a can of beer and exclaimed, “You could use a tinnie.”
This is an inspiring memory, but the journey is not for the faint of heart. There are several outfitters who run the river. Northern Outdoors is reputable and affordable at under $100 including lunch. Tip: you may want a cold one on hand.