Who wants to go on a Moose Ride?

Have you ever seen a moose in the wilderness? They are gangly looking quadripeds, but in a strange way, they are also quite adorable. In spite of their intimidating size, they are vegetarians and can float because of the hollow nature of their fur, remarkable for animals that can routinely weigh in excess of 1,000 lbs. For the members of my family, these night "walkers" have been an intrigue for generations.

When we were young kids, we didn't know of that place we call Rangeley, but we all knew of Black River and Uncle Willy's. My grandfather came from New Brunswick, Canada, and just outside of the city of St. John was his family's homestead, the "old sod" in Black River. We'd head down to Canada maybe 2 or 3 times a year for some international diplomacy. The itinerary was fairly typical, take the Maine turnpike to Bangor and stop to see Paul Bunyan, then follow the airline route to the border crossing at St. Stephen, and then on to St. John, crossing the reversing falls outside of the city. The first stop was a visit to the Owens girls to share a cup of tea. While my mother and the uncles caught up on the family news, we'd play with our trucks in their long hallway. From here, we'd begin the final push to Uncle Willy's. I always knew we were close when we passed the I R V I N G oil tanks, with the flame burning above the refinery, then past the airport at Loch Lomond, and finally on to those infamous dirt roads. We were going back in time when we'd go to Black River. Once we turned on to Duffy road, you knew it wouldn't be long, and you could sense the excitement in the car. It was usually late, so when we pulled into the "grass" driveway, we often times had to use the car head lights to see the rest of the way. After climbing through the window into Uncle Willy's bedroom, we then had the task of turning on the electricity. That necessitated going upstairs and climbing into this crawl space to throw the switch. I think it was even scary for my uncles. However, once we all unpacked and got the wood burning stove going, we could finally settle in for the night.

We filled our days by playing and fishing in the creek below the house, picking cranberries on the back hill, or just poking around the older farm house at Austin's. But after a full day and dinner, there was always the anticipation of a ride to Wallace's for ice cream or a trip up the Duffy road past Collin's to look for moose. My uncles always loved to take us on those moose rides, although I can't really remember ever seeing one.

A generation later now, we start by heading up the Maine turnpike, the usual stop at Gifford's in Farmington for ice cream and then the unpacking at the Saddleback Lake Lodge. For you younger members of the family, does this pattern of activity sound at all familiar? It seems strangely similar to those trips we made to Black River, only a generation removed. Now the in-laws, my siblings, and I constitute the tour guides for those trips to Pine Tree Frosty for ice cream, followed by a moose ride up the Saddleback Hill road. Of course, we have seen our share of moose over the years, mostly in Maine and perhaps in Black River, but the very excitement and anticipation of going on those moose rides, remain the same. From generation to generation, it's our traditions that we pass along which enrich those memories from our lives. I don't know about any of you, but let's get an ice cream and head on up the hill for a moose ride. Anyone interested in going?