It all began at Moosehead. Well, not ALL of it. Just this part. In fact, even this part began at Lily Bay State Park. It began with a cacophony of songs among the trees, as the pre-dawn light warmed. The early-bird must get the worm, because the birds were out first. After a quick trip to pee among the treetop performances I returned to the tent, where the din of mosquito rose all around me, competing with the rest of the forest.
We went from the bottom to the top and back to the bottom and then up and around. Moosehead from below, Moosehead from above. Little Moose, Big Moose, no real moose yet, though.
It feels like a world away here. A world of our own, with foxes, eagles, loons and a pristine, mountain, lake-side camping spot. It took some work to get out here, but it was well worth it.
