The island scramble

Yesterday I circumnavigated Peaks Island on the secret-but-not-so-secret island scramble. The hike – which takes wayfarers on a ramble around the island’s rocky shoreline – is not for the acrophobe. There are several sections where you have to maintain three points of contact to avoid falling a significant distance into the ocean. But the effort is definitely worth it.

A small group of island friends started at Picnic Point two hours before low tide. This is one of those special Maine hikes which requires delicate coordination with Casco Bay’s tidal patterns as much of the route is underwater throughout the day. I would advise explorers to stay below the tidal line when possible.

Equipped with a water bottle, a granola bar, and lots of sunscreen I met up with Michael and Jenny to make the trek. Maintaining a distance of at least six feet, we ambled across the rocks, heading northward before hitting Davies Cove. The first few miles pit you against the open Atlantic. Fist-sized rocks give way to boulders which then merge against flat pieces of ledge. It’s a tangled up and down walk that takes time, but with the watery backdrop, it’s certainly manageable.

Bouldering by Pumpkin Knob

Next up is the more technical part of the journey. The far tip of Peaks is more isolated than the rest of the island. Here pieces of ledge appear thrown together – as if the Big Friendly Giant tossed rocks haphazardly onto the island shore centuries ago. Mordor meets Meru. This section requires more thought than simply placing one foot in front of the other. I love the strategy of it. Scoping your line. Finding the right handhold. It reminds me a lot of staring over the side of a steep ski run, figuring out how to get down.

After bouldering by Pumpkin Knob – a privately-owned dollop of rock that sits like a cherry atop Peaks – you hit the seaweed slog. This is the most unpleasant part of the walk, and frankly, is a rolled ankle just waiting to happen. Just remember that while we islanders have access to Portland’s EMT services, there remain two ambulances and a fireboat ride to Maine Med, so step carefully.

So Long, Seaweed Slog

Free from seaweed hell, you hit Trefethen and the TEIA club. We threw on Vangelis from Chariots of Fire and kicked up our walk to a run. This part along Centennial Beach is flat and wide open, save for a few errant stones and picked over crab carcasses. Rounding the bend by the boat launch takes you to the front side of the island. Here the power of Maine’s tidal patterns is again quite apparent. Houses up on the hill seem to float several stories above the water line at low tide, which waxes and wanes around 10 feet per period.

A quick duck underneath the iconic Forest City Landing transfer bridge and you’re almost there. The only thing between you and a cold beer is Sandy Beach and a short rocky stretch paralleling Whitehead Passage.

Pure Island Energy

The entire journey provided a hit of island energy straight to head and the heart. It was a good reminder about how special this place is – which can be easy to forget, particularly after spending over two months marooned out on the rock. We even managed to bump into some island friends doing the loop themselves, albeit from the opposite direction. When the weather opens, the island community takes full advantage.

So, what’s next? There’s talk of trying to set the land speed record for the scramble. Sounds fun – I’m in.