I first visited Rangeley, Maine in 1970 at the suggestion of a friend, whose description of large lakes and 3,500 foot mountains reminded me of the Adirondaks where I had gone to camp for many years. Rangeley is in the northwestern corner of Maine, 50 miles from New Hampshire and 75 miles from Canada, a bit too far for spontaneous travel and gentrification. So a 1945 picture post card of Main Street looks much the same as today’s Main Street, but with modern automobiles.For me, time stops when I arrive at Rangeley, and memories are vivid. Robin and I have been here together at least seven times since 1987 - alone and together with family and friends. We always stay at North Camps, a group of twelve very rustic cabins and a main lodge, which have been owned by the Gibson family since the early fifties. In 1970, Gibby ran the place; and then Sonny (his son, of course) took over in the eighties. Now Gibby’s grandsons, Glen and Fran, are running the place under their father’s careful supervision.
The cabins are nestled among birch and pine trees along 300 feet of shoreline on the north side of Rangeley Lake, which is 12 miles long and 5 miles wide.
There are the usual amenities - a modest beach, docks, motor boats, canoes, and kayaks and a 40-year old sunfish. Especially attractive is the centrally located dirt tennis court, which measures differently in length to the serving line from the net on one side from the other and has retaining fences about three steps too close to the serving line - all making for an extra challenge while playing.
This is where my sons learned to play chess and to water ski, where we got lost on the Appalachian Trail looking for Piazza Rock, and where my friend Steve Schwartz and I had ferociously competitive tennis matches. (I always made sure to win our very last match on Saturday as new people were arriving and stopped to watch the competition.)
Rangeley Lake is connected to five other large lakes, making for a wonderful week-long canoe trip if you are so inclined. Hiking trails are everywhere, and the vistas are extraordinary. Saddleback Mountain, at the east end of the lake, has been developed as a family ski resort. The guests at North Camps are self-selecting and repeaters. We reinforce each others’ decision in coming to Rangeley by relating our similar experiences and shared memories.
“So what do you do at Rangeley?,” someone might ask. “It is a very busy time,“ I answer, because there are so many old bases to touch while exploring the new.
- first swim in the lake
- schmooze with Sonny
- Red Onion restaurant for pizza
- shop for food at the IGA
- decision whether to run the Mingo Loop (6.3 miles)
- see your first moose
- ice cream at the Pine Tree Frosty
- visit the Chamber of Commerce to find out the weekly doings
- twin lobster night in the town of Oquossoc
- see what is new at the Alpine Shop
- visit Small’s Falls
- more ice cream at the Gingerbread House
- select hikes for the week
- canoe the Androscoggin River
This year for the first time we learned about a wonderful book, We Took To The Woods, by Louise Dickinson Rich, an autobiographical account of a young woman from the suburbs of Boston who fell in love with a Maine woodsman, whom she met on a summer vacation. She tells how they married and lived together in the woods, not far from Rangeley. The book was first published in 1942, and is skillfully written. Each chapter answers a question which might have been asked by an urban friend. “Don’t you ever get bored?” “How do you make a living?” “ Why don’t you write a book?”
This was our newest Rangeley discovery; can’t wait for the next visit.
