Digging our paddles into the shallow water, my son, Tom, and I steered our canoe around a sharp turn in the river. Suddenly we were face to face—or more accurately, face to knees—with a massive creature standing directly in our path. Another day, another moose.
Lifting its head to stare at us and with shoots of river greens cascading from its mouth, the huge animal seemed undisturbed. After several minutes, our companion finished its meal, took a final—I thought disdainful—glance in our direction, and ambled into the woods.
Welcome to the Rangeley Lakes region of Maine, nestled in the state’s less-visited but very inviting western lakes and mountains region. The picture-book village of Rangeley is the “real” Maine, a town of about 1,100 residents that captures the quaint nostalgia of a Norman Rockwell painting. Single-story frame buildings along Main Street house the Lakeside Theater, aptly named Moose Alley bowling, and a smattering of shops and restaurants. No stoplight interrupts the sparse flow of traffic, much of it logging trucks or cars with a kayak or canoe strapped to the top.
