As Hunter pointed out earlier this week, every state has its something. For Maine, it's lobster and moose. A California native (although a weak excuse being about as Northeastern as you can get) – I don't like lobster, and I have never seen a moose.
Well, at least not until last weekend.
"Guaranteed to see a moose" was the Google criteria, and Mainely Photos/Moose Safari fit the bill. Four hours up north and admittedly on the lookout at each moose crossing sign, we arrived at a cabin that boasts "down comforters and an inside toilet" and hunkered down (is that the term people actually use?) for two nights of all Millinocket has to offer.
At 5:30 a.m. we were picked up by a female tour guide and two Midwesterners. I was greeted with "I am the moose whisperer" and two people with fanny packs and huge hellos, who actually seemed to be people who love people. Two thoughts: too early and my fault.
Fast forward through two-packed hours of holding the van ceiling with my hand to brace the potential impact of brain injury over "mini bumps" and craning my neck to see "huge" moose tracks I only pretended to see. I was assured moose were close. At hour three and losing hope, we were 10 feet away from the elusive moose. His name was Baby (well that's what the whisperer called him) and he was about 2 years old and about 700 lbs – a mere miniature compared to our 2,000 lb Maine mascots. It was definitely exciting for about 10 minutes; the other 45 of the Midwesterner snapping pictures with his wife pulling rolls of film from her multi-level fanny pack was maybe less.
So to the whisperer. For five hours, we were told the misunderstood story of the moose, and how they really feel. She knew this because she knew all of their names, and in fact hangs out with them. Again: still too early and my fault.
But as the tour progressed and you could actually see this woman's love and understanding for these animals and the passion for her work, I admired her. If we could all do something we loved so much on a daily basis, we should all be so lucky. Just maybe not in galoshes and a polyester jumper.
Maybe next time, I'll give lobster a go?
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