Maine's Washington County, the country's
easternmost piece of land, is known as "The Sunrise County", because the sun rises over this rugged section of the coast before it shows itslef anywhere else in the state. Washington County is also the place where the term
Downeast becomes less of a myth and more of a reality. Towns like Cutler,
Machiasport, and
Lubec sit perched over the rough and unforgiving waters of the Atlantic. The
Lobster boats outnumber pleasure craft, and the working man outnumbers the tourist. I am drawn to this county
because of it's natural and untouched beauty, but mostly because of the immense solitude that hangs over the towns and landscape like a thick fog off of the ocean. Drive down a back road out of
Machias, and you are greeted with the sight of run down houses, small mom and pop stores and lobster gear strewn over lawns and driveways. There is a small little town called Bucks Harbor about two miles down the road from
Machiasport, if you
don't miss it! There are no signs here that tell one they reached Bucks
Harbor, just small dusty dirt road that leads to an inlet, which then leads to a stunning harbor, that is protected by rocky islands covered in spruce and pine trees, where osprey and seagulls soar and dip over the water, only to swoop back onto to their respective posts above the trees.
Lobster boats, big,
sturdy and worn, come and go, back into town to get gear, then back out onto
Machias Bay to ply their trade. These are the places I love most on the coast. They are quiet, off
the beaten path and authentic as hell. They personify the
definition of
Downeast Maine: independence, coupled with hard work and perseverance. This is a tough place to live, but you get the sense that the people who live in these small towns, with their churches and worn storefronts, wouldn't have it any other way. As a cool fall breeze blows through the pines and
descends over the water, the sense of solitude is immediate and welcome. For here, way
Downeast on the Maine coast, I have reached a place where the rat race of the real world seems miles and miles away. My brain rests and my soul expands with pure bliss as every intoxicating breath of ocean air reaches my lungs.
Maine's Washington County, the country's easternmost piece of land, is known as "The Sunrise County", because the sun rises over this rugged section of the coast before it shows itslef anywhere else in the state. Washington County is also the place where the term Downeast becomes less of a myth and more of a reality. Towns like Cutler, Machiasport, and Lubec sit perched over the rough and unforgiving waters of the Atlantic. The Lobster boats outnumber pleasure craft, and the working man outnumbers the tourist. I am drawn to this county because of it's natural and untouched beauty, but mostly because of the immense solitude that hangs over the towns and landscape like a thick fog off of the ocean. Drive down a back road out of Machias, and you are greeted with the sight of run down houses, small mom and pop stores and lobster gear strewn over lawns and driveways. There is a small little town called Bucks Harbor about two miles down the road from Machiasport, if you don't miss it! There are no signs here that tell one they reached Bucks Harbor, just small dusty dirt road that leads to an inlet, which then leads to a stunning harbor, that is protected by rocky islands covered in spruce and pine trees, where osprey and seagulls soar and dip over the water, only to swoop back onto to their respective posts above the trees. Lobster boats, big, sturdy and worn, come and go, back into town to get gear, then back out onto Machias Bay to ply their trade. These are the places I love most on the coast. They are quiet, off the beaten path and authentic as hell. They personify the definition of Downeast Maine: independence, coupled with hard work and perseverance. This is a tough place to live, but you get the sense that the people who live in these small towns, with their churches and worn storefronts, wouldn't have it any other way. As a cool fall breeze blows through the pines and 
descends over the water, the sense of solitude is immediate and welcome. For here, way Downeast on the Maine coast, I have reached a place where the rat race of the real world seems miles and miles away. My brain rests and my soul expands with pure bliss as every intoxicating breath of ocean air reaches my lungs.
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