Flies, Whitewater and Fall

Although Maine is a close neighbor of Vermont's, where I lived for several years as a small boy, I never actually visited there until I was an adult. That's when I discovered its beauty (especially in autumn), whitewater rafting, and buzzing flies that are large enough to be saddled.

Lost At Sea

By: Paul S Cilwa	Occurred: 6/9/1996 Posted: 7/9/2007		Page Views: 1,538
Hashtags: #Metaphysics #Spirituality #FortFoster #Maine #SCUBA
A friend was killed in a tragic SCUBA mishap.
Estimated reading time: 11 minute(s) (2491 words)

On Saturday, June 8th, 1996, I got a call from a friend, Tim. This was a very unusual call, because Tim had never before initiated a phone conversation with me. I had no way of knowing that, by that time tomorrow, he would be dead.

Penobscot River

	Occurred: 6/26/1994		Page Views: 1,291
Hashtags: #Rafting #WhitewaterRafting #PenobscotRiver #Maine
Whitewater rafting and camping trip on Maine's Penobscot River with the kids. Photos and text.
Estimated reading time: 16 minute(s) (3799 words)

Since I had by now rafted Maine’s Kennebec River twice (once with Dottie and twice with John), I wanted to "do" something different. After studying the brochures, I settled on the Penobscot River, which is run near Maine’s Baxter State Park. The drive time from Manchester, NH (where I lived at the time), is about the same; it’s suitably distant from civilization, and was said to be beautiful, peaceful—and wild.