Page 13 - 2012_winter_issue

rails to trails u winter.12 11
Te sun rose on the Calais Branch
gradually. First, in 1987, the state bought
the entire rail right-of-way for $759,000.
In 1991, when rumor had it that the rails
and ties on the old line were to be ripped
up and sold to pay for rail improvements
in southern Maine, Jacobs and other sus-
tainable transportation advocates sprang
into action. “It didn’t seem right,” says
Jacobs. “Why not keep the investment
local, where it could do more good? Why
not spend the money to stabilize the
railbed, to maintain it as a trail? A 127-
mile right-of-way is a gift from the past, a
gift of history that can never be replaced.”
Year after year the nascent Sunrise Trail
Coalition wrote to state ofcials, including
the commissioners of transportation and
three consecutive governors, advocating
the idea of conserving the corridor as a
world-class rail-trail to improve the eco-
nomic and physical
health of Washington
and Hancock coun-
ties and revitalize
the tourist economy.
In September 2010,
after nearly two
decades of tireless
efort, coalition
members joined a
crowd of 150, includ-
ing the commission-
ers of transportation and conservation and
several state senators, to cut the ribbon on
the Down East Sunrise Trail.
Te new trail covers some 85 miles
of the historical rail corridor. Of all the
trail’s alluring features, from salmon
streams to open water to blueberry pie,
winter recreation is what sets it apart
from other rail-trails. So, in the dead of
its frst winter, I set out to explore the
Down East Sunrise Trail.
Winter Wonder
Te trail begins two miles north of
Ellsworth, a gateway community for
Acadia National Park. Leaving the trafc
noise behind, I step onto the snow-
covered gravel and dirt surface of the
pathway and crunch along contentedly
for a few minutes. Te trail soon nar-
rows and plunges into a thick stand of
birch and pine that continues almost
uninterrupted to the eastern terminus at
Ayers Junction. I suck in a draft of nose-
stinging cold air and recall the old Maine
aphorism, “If you don’t like the weather,
wait a minute, and it’ll change.” I’ve
lucked out weather-wise, and overhead
the trees frame a crisp rectangle of faw-
less blue. Te silence and bright sun are
entrancing, my peripheral vision flled by
endless rows of pines, standing tall in the
still winter air.
Te pines are vivid green against the
snow, their continuity broken only by the
occasional stand of austere birch. Nine
miles farther along, I’m at the side trail for
the Franklin Trading Post. Like other stores
on the Sunrise Trail, it maintains a small,
signed connector path that leads to the
front door. Hot, cheap cofee pufs ambro-
sial fog on my glasses, and I talk with a few
locals who are amused that it’s taken me an
hour to get here. “Why, I’d take my sled
(snowmobile) up to Machias in an hour!”
says the clerk who flls my cup.
Snowmobiling is religion in Maine,
and the trail sees heavy snowmobile traf-
fc, mostly on weekends. Te Sunrise Trail
Coalition credits the involvement and
support of motorized groups with get-
ting the trail designated in the frst place.
According to Jacobs, snowmobiles are
one of the main modes of transportation
In 1898, the Maine Central Railroad frst began
service along the corridor, which is now the
longest rail-trail in Maine.