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A
Changing Sense of Wilderness |
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| June
1990:
My friends and I pull up our sea kayaks on the sandy pocket beach
of Steves Island, in Maine's eastern Penobscot Bay. Before digging
around in our dry bags for lunch, we take the grand tour. There are
no trails cutting through the interior, so we clamber from one granite
rock to another around the perimeter. We marvel at how many of the
evergreen-covered islands of the Deer Isle archipelago we can see
from this one-acre islet. Steves is owned by Maine's Bureau of Parks
and Lands and is open to the public, so we scout out potential tent
sites. The only clearing we find is just big enough for a couple of
two-person tents.
June
1993:
We stop at Steves for lunch. We are surprised to find trails threading
through the interior,
June 2000: During a late morning snack break on Steves, we notice that more of the soil along the bank has fallen away, leaving tree roots exposed. In the interior, the lower limbs of trees have been cut to create additional clearings; there are now six campsites. Two kayakers have arrived before us. Only in recent years have we met other boaters when visiting the island. We're a bit taken aback when one of the kayakers pointedly asks us how long we'll be there. |
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