Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1908-09-07
John Quill Tells Of Its
September Charms.
He Boxes The Compass and
Travels The Trail.
Only a Few Can Have Luxury Of
A Fall Vacation.

1ul month OF the whole year at the sea
shore. 1t is summer lingering in the
lap of autumn. Just tone and sparkle
summer is on the wane and just sum-
mer enough to be ideal. The fog and
haze have disappeared seward and
the water is as blue as the Mediter-
ranean. Even the buildings on the
neighboring islands stand out like
silhouettes and seem nearer. The
pleasure craft. both large and small.
the coasters and the steamers that
ply this little roadway to the
sheltered waters of the bay are over
to the eastward and the open sea
makes a picture that is pleasing to
the eye. For years and years the last
OF August has found the sea shore
practically deserted or given over to
the natives. Boats We're hauled out.
shutters put up and an air of quiet
ude in contrast with it's recept sum-
mer activities pervades the whole
Point and the family including the
cat, has departed for home. The ex-
cuse was, school opened the first Of
September
Now all this is changed. The world
has grown older and the people wiser.
Cottages are kept open, hotels and
boarding houses make factor in this
end of the season month and The
steamers run as in the good old sum-
mer time. There are so many beauti-
full spots in and around the little wind
swept peninsular that one is never at
loss where to go. Just across the
little water way Niger island attracts
ones attention. 1t is practically the
breakwater to the westward. Wooded
and sheltered. it invites you to come.
Just beyond farther inland is Spruce
Point and the famous Indian trail.
tote path through the woods where
the moccasn shod Indian maiden with
her brave in the dim and hazy past
used to wander just as the summer
girl and her escort do now Under
the overhanging branches and over its
carpet of pine needles are legends and
traditions galore, and so wildly re-
cited and told by the guide that one in
imagination can see some ochre
aborigine in his war bonnet and
feathers. lodging from tree to tree
The trail extends some three miles
through the unbroken forest where it
joins the highway which follows the
shore to the harbor of BOothbay. 70
the eastward of Spruce Point flows
the immense bay, an arm of the sea
whose surface is as calm and still as
millpond.
At the extreme upper end of this
sheet Of water beyond Lobster cove,
are the little summer colonies of Bay
VILE and Murray Hill. The town If
East Roothbay situated on the farth n
side of the horn of the peninsular, is
but a short distance over to the east
ward To the southwark and south
west of the Point the little group of
islands spread out like a fan Start
ing with Squirrel, the most thickly
populated OF the group. one sees
in their order Ram, with its blinking
light. F'ishermens. Damiscove Islands,
with its life saving station. the
Hypocrites and the White islands
While way over to the westward
Monhegan looms up like grim
sentinel Following the coast line
around the little group of islands at
the mouth OF the Damariscotta river
the little sheltered harbor Of
Christmas cove attracts ones at
tention Having boxed the com
| pass and yet given but faint idea or
the many beautiful spots that can pe
reached by water with motor. steam
or even a row boat. we will now take
the reader in imagination through the
little sheltered paths that add so much
to the beauty of this little strip OF
Names rock bound coast. The high
way. the rockbound country road that
leads down from East BoothbaY,
follows the coastlne within a copper's
toss of the water. from the wharf rs
far around as Grimes cove. A Bride
path completes the distance to Gunner
rock. where the surf booms like dis
tant artillery and the spray falls in
showers at ones feet.
Reluctantly turning our backs to rhe
sea we enter the little forest trail that
| is as wild and picturesque as our fore
fathers found it when the country was
new. lust wide enough for one and 50
dense in places that even the sun can
not penetrate and carpeted with pine
needles and moss so deep and velvety
that the foot steps don't give out
sound We follow the winding
scrpentine trail through the unbroken
forest to where the little ray OF light
beckons us and find ourselves at the
last resting place of the Grimes family
"a family whose tree branches back
into Names carly history. Beyond is
the highway that leads from the cove
mast the balancing rock to East
Boothbay and beyond.
Leaving the roadway at the Junction
and again branching to the eastward,
we cross the clearing and enter the
| woodland path that leads to Little
| river and the mouth of Damariscotta
river. Here again we find the same
wild scenic beauty that has called US
| from the music OF the surf to the
haunts of the birds, through nature )
tiny pathway where the silence is al
most oppressive. where the sunlight
on the foliage changes the green ana
brown to bronze and gold. 1t is the
call of the wild and we follow it to the
end. 1t is as nature left it. wild and
ragged. 1t could not be improved up
on and to attempt 1t would pe
sacrilege AS we near the end OF TINS
varied trail we again hear the poom