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Jack Dempsey’s Trip Was Not This Easy!

By David Currier

See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls. Mother Teresa 

It’s time for bonding with your family, far from the barrage of television news, radio traffic reports, emails with stock market trends and fashion statements screaming at you and your kids from slick magazines. This may be your dream destination – sweet dreams, that is!  The Oxbow.

Sleepy Oxbow, Maine rests at the confluence of the Umcolcus Stream and the Aroostook River in the northern part of the state. 

Here, the Aroostook shows off its geological age as a meandering waterway, providing the town’s namesake, an ancient oxbow formation where the cool river waters drift eastward toward Canada.

Umcolcus Stream, on the other hand, is a younger tributary. Starting at 770 feet above sea level, shooting over rocks and ledges, along fern covered banks; great for brooktrout fishing, at this point the Umcolcus is not welcoming to boating except in the deadwater.

Early settlers moved to Oxbow Plantation around 1840. Because of its rich soil, Oxbow became a population center supporting lumbering operations in the virgin forests. Pioneers came from Maine’s southern counties, and French and Scandinavian settlers crossed this frontier from Eastern Canada.

They established one-room schoolhouses (two still stand), built a small Congregational church (which continues to serve parishioners of all denominations and those “not-so-denominated”), and they organized a community rich in a spirit of selflessness that survives today.  A trip to Oxbow might be compared to a visit to Walton’s Mountain.

Rambling New England farmhouses were built on rolling fields cleared from dense forests.  Acres of potatoes and apples, barns full of chickens and dairy cattle were crowded along the only paved road in the community. Stretching in almost a straight line about eight miles from Route 11 to “the end of the road” at the Aroostook River on the west side of town, Oxbow Road is the only street address. 

Today, majestic barns have collapsed from age. The log cabin where Louis Sockalexis of the Cleveland Indians visited his resident grandmother disappeared long ago. Advancing forests reclaimed fields of daisies. Fewer than 100 inhabitants live in the 36 square miles that is Oxbow.  But being far away from everywhere is what attracts visitors.

An apple orchard, organic herbs and vegetable farm, and a couple transplanted American buffalo are all that reflect Oxbow’s farming past. There’s a local post office and a craft store, but no gas station or grocery store for 20 miles. The one industry is the seasonal Christmas wreath business operated by the Sherman family. www.connectmaine.com/oxbowwreaths.

One of the most popular, remote and scenic lodges in the Oxbow area is Umcolcus Sporting Camps, situated on the deadwater of Umcolcus Stream. No whitewater rafting here, only relaxing canoeing or kayaking.

Operated by Al and Audrey Currier, and situated on a knoll at the mouth of the Umcolcus Deadwater, Umcolcus Sporting Camps consists of a main lodge for dining and socializing and six cabins and bunkhouses constructed from native logs on the site of Al’s grandfather’s campsite. 

Umcolcus Sporting Camps is NOT on the beaten track. Quoting humorists Bert & I, if you asked someone for directions to The Oxbow, one might hear an answer in the best Maine accent, “you caan’t git thar fram heah”. To get there from where you are, you can fly via Boston or New York’s LaGuardia into Bangor, Maine and drive 130 miles north, or to Presque Isle and drive 45 miles southwest.  Canadians may find it easier to fly into Fredericton, New Brunswick.

Using convenient American Eagle jet service from Boston to Bangor, we rented a car and drove "up to The Bow". Yes, a car, not an SUV. Although an SUV would add a macho caché to this trip, the six-mile gravel road through the forest is easily traveled in a passenger car.

We arrived at camp in the late afternoon. Al and Audrey welcomed us at the main lodge, and we were shown around the public grounds and to our cabin. Umcolcus Sporting Camps has been in Al's family for nearly a century, so the stories are many and fascinating. Al tells each one with that slow cadence and delightful accent Maniacs are known for.

At about 9:30 PM, we walked down to the stream and sat on a giant boulder embedded in the muddy banks. As we sat there on a dog days summer evening, our senses quickly tuned themselves to Nature's rhythms. Crickets chirruped; fireflies danced on the edge of the black-green forest. Only the soft glow of a half-moon occasionally eclipsed by stray dark clouds lighted the clearing.

Heat lightning danced through the hazy sky, and the stars in the handle of the big dipper constellation played peek-a-boo with us humans below. The muffled-kettle-drum-sound of distant thunder echoed in the low hills. Two glasses of champagne that we brought with us from Dallas were lifted to toast the evening. It was time for a restful sleep.

A chipmunk’s chatter was our morning alarm clock. But, it was too early for city slickers to venture out. We stayed in our handcrafted bunks, wrapped in cool sheets and fluffy plaid blankets. Each of the two double beds and two sets of bunks is constructed of four natural wood logs for posts; squared side and end rails bolted to the posts form the frame. The mattresses lie on wide planks.   No trampoline jumps in the bedroom for the kids! Later as Morning Sun screeched through the windows, “it’s time to enjoy the day”, we were greeted at our front steps by a not too skittish rabbit.

Our cabin ( #2) sleeps 8. A number of adjectives come to mind to describe the accommodations at Umcolcus Sporting Camps - rustic but elegant, quaint but practical, strong but warm, masculine and feminine. The walls are built from logs, and the ceiling is covered with polished knotty pine. Wooden pegs have been added to the log beams, convenient for bathrobes or damp clothing. With a gas stove for cooking, and a cast-iron wood-burning stove for heat, cooking and eating dishes, propane lights and refrigerator, each unit is self-sufficient. Bring in groceries (and wine!) and you are on your own.

There is no phone. (I doubt that any wireless service will work here either. You are isolated! That antenna next to the main lodge is for radio communications not TV!)

A communal shower with a supply of towels, a water pump operated by a generator for toilet facilities with hot and cold running water sit at the back edge of the public grounds.

In the main lodge, Audrey prepares good ‘home-cookin’” for those guests that select the American plan. A large stone fireplace in the center of the main room is surrounded by several community style dining tables and chairs. Hunting and fishing memorabilia, snowshoes and photographs decorate the walls. Souvenir homemade soap and t-shirts are available for purchase

That morning we decided to go kayaking. As we walked to the bank of the deadwater, we noticed freshly cut alders blocking the flow of water into the stream. Beavers had been busy the last few days. There has not been much rain this summer, so perhaps they sense the need to conserve. As we arrive at the rack of Old Town canoes and kayaks (available for rent @ $20/$15 per day), a nesting woodcock rises from the grasses on the bank startling us awake.

Travellady.com Special:  Al and Audrey will provide a free day of kayak or canoe rental for each person staying four nights or more if they mention Travellady.com when making their reservations.

Our kayaks slice through morning mist that floats like angel hair about six inches over the water’s surface. A few hundred feet out on the deadwater, we turn our kayaks around so that we can look back at camp. 

We stop paddling. Nothing moves. We listen to the silence that has not changed since the ice age retreated across northern Maine leaving several lakes that, through natural eutrophication, have become deadwaters for younger streams. We are listening to the same silence that the native Wabanaki tribes experienced centuries ago.  The descendents of these indigenous people were employed to build the first lodge on the site of Umcolcus Sporting Camps for Charles M. Schwab (yes, that Charles Schwab) in 1917.

A splash breaks our state of meditation on the beauty of our surroundings. A cow moose and her calf plunge into the waters in front of our cabin. They cautiously sniff at our human scents floating on morning breezes while they calmly munch tender roots of pond lilies, always ready to flee into the wilderness at a hint of danger.

Umcolcus Sporting Camps is a resort for all seasons. 

During their respective season, trout fishing, black bear, whitetail deer, moose and partridge hunting, fossil or arrowhead searching, XC skiing, snowmobiling,  jogging, back-road biking and photography provide the visitor with unequaled stress-free adventures in the great outdoors. Umcolcus Sporting Camps has been a favorite destination of committed outdoorsmen and women for many years, among them former boxing champion Jack Dempsey. In this picture, Jack, his trainer, his brother and several Oxbow Curriers and friends take a wagon on a hunting trip.

Spring and ice-out brings trout fishing, and toward Memorial Day the fiddleheads (ostrich ferns) are ready for picking. (Trout and fiddleheads; what a meal!)  Migratory birds begin to arrive. Woodland animals become parents. Dutchman’s britches, purple and yellow violets and bloodroot are among the first flowers to welcome spring.

Summer delivers the tenderness and warmth of a mother’s bosom to those who vacation June through Labor Day. The caressing summer-silence that you experience during walks along abandoned farm roads and riverside paths, or while paddling up the deadwater toward Cut Lake is broken only by the buzzing of bumble bees and dragonflies, the squawking of crows or, perhaps, the intriguing broken-wing dance of a mother partridge as she defends her covey of babies you’ve aimlessly wandered into.

Songbirds’ symphonies abound. Birdwatchers will be rewarded.

Pairs of wild ducks and their families often picnic on the Umcolcus deadwater.  Hawks and bald eagles soar towards the puffy cirrus clouds to better scout for dinner.

Varieties of wildflowers drench stream banks, forest glens and roadsides with color. FlavorFULL wild strawberries, bunchberries, blueberries, raspberries, hazelnuts and apples await the vacationing chef or city’s child learning firsthand about Nature’s abundance.

Relaxing with a good book, challenging the family to a card game (Loser keeps the fire hot at night!), collecting pinecones, spruce-gum or wildflowers, gathering raspberries or photographing your chosen season’s natural beauty provide alternative activities. Challenge yourself to find the famous “sweetgrass” that Native Americans still harvest and from which they weave intricate, scented baskets.

Any season, moose and deer are plentiful. Your walks, jogs or drives are often interrupted by the welcome intrusion of one of these regal animals into your path.

In the fall, Maine puts on one of the best fall-foliage displays anywhere in the world. The air is crisp. The bugs are gone. Nature is slowing down for a long winter’s nap. Hunters arrive searching for a trophy - sometimes for video.

In winter, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing and snowmobiling are the reigning pastimes.

Winters are less severe than 50 years ago when I recall powerful Nor’easters would block the highway and logging roads with snow for several days. The cold, dry, nighttime sky sparkles with even the dimmest stars. The Milky Way awes the uninitiated city-dweller. The Northern Lights frequently perform.

Six-foot snowdrifts blowing in from mile-high Mt. Katahdin at the north end of the Appalachian Trail provide cross-country skiers and snowmobile clubs with ample surface for their winter fun. Snowmobiles and skis are not provided, but Al and Audrey will advise you of outfits that rent this equipment. The well-groomed trails are waiting to energize you. The winter cold provides some of the hottest vacation memories at Umcolcus Sporting Camps.

If these sports do not interest you, there is always snowshoeing. You may require 20 minutes to master balancing and walking on these ancient “shoes”, but your efforts will deliver you to breathtaking clearings far from your cabin. Snow falls softly upon your face and covers the evergreens with gobs of cotton-y white.  Snow-laden trees absorb most sounds. Your silence, broken by the songs of a pair of black-capped chickadees (the Maine state bird) or the scolding of an overly defensive red squirrel, will drain life’s pressures from the most intense personalities.

And the cardio will help you burn off those couch-potato calories that have long ago taken up comfortable residence around your waist.

For the traveler who really wants to get away from it all, and be welcomed by caring hosts, there’s no place like Umcolcus Sporting Camps. Economical daily and weekly rates for housekeeping, modified American and full American plans are offered. Family rates for two adults with up to four children 17 years old or under are available. Rates start at $45.00 per day/$270 per week for one person, with per person rates going down as the number of persons in your group increases. Visit www.Umcolcus.com for more information.

Umcolcus Sporting Camps is for those vacationers who create their own goodtime. There is no planned calendar of events – nobody waking you at 9 a.m. for Tuesday’s whatever-class. At Umcolcus Sporting Camps, Al and Audrey will give you their best how-to and where-to opinions, and they will ensure you have everything you need to be comfortable. The rest is up to you.

“Night, Johnboy.”

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