Return to Beehive - Acadia

My college friend W. sends his kids to the same school as J. in our occasional chit chat, he told me he thought about our hike at precipice mountain 27 years ago. back then, T. came with us. It was near sunset. We saw the trail head, and youthfully disregarded the danger signs about the fatal hazards of scaling the cliffs. Once we emerged above tree-line, we laughed at T. when his fear of heights overtook him and he retreated back to the car. W. and I proceeded to the top. On the way down, we descended in darkness. At one point, W made a step and almost fell off the cliff before realizing he had to grasp the railing bolted into the cliff. It was his near death experience.

It’s been over 20 years since I last visited Acadia. Precipice is closed now due to peregrine falcon nesting season. In my 20’s I visited 3 times for about 3 weeks total, always sleeping in a tent. I hiked and biked all the trails…. This time, I return at 46 years old with family to a 3 bedroom cabin overlooking the bay. Instead of cans of tomato sardines, crackers, and slices of cheese, I’m indulging in real food and sleeping in a bed now. back then I was studying biology, now I’m ‘working’ remotely as an architect during the day.

Some things about acadia have not changed. 380 million years ago, molten magma bubbled deep from within and cooled into granite mountains. The feldspar infused granite gives the rock in acadia its unique pink mottled color. The 1947 fire that nearly burned down the whole eastern side of the island has resulted in younger forests which are light and airy.

With precipice closed, I decided to introduce J and B to its sister trail - Beehive. it’s a short hike requiring climbing iron rungs. Like Precipice, the mile deep Wisconsin glacier (which covered katahdin and pushed rocks into Stamford) from the last ice age sheared the face of the Beehive to form vertical cliffs. As J and B blithely scampered up the trail fearless of the sharp drops, K. held onto the rails for dear life and crawled up the mountain like a cautious octopus. As I was hiking between the careless and careful, taking pictures of both parties, I realized J meandered off trail, and I had to retrieve him from youthful exuberance.

From the top of Beehive, one has a 360 view of the ocean, and inland mountains and the ‘bowl’ below. Through young birch tree stands and natural granite steps, we rested by the ‘bowl’ which is a glacial tarn - a deep circular lake created by alpine glacier melts. In previous visits in fall, I enjoyed the songs of frogs. Today I saw tadpoles swimming in crystal clear waters by J’s wading feet.