Acadia National Park, at the confluence of Penobscot Bay and the open Atlantic Ocean, is a wonderful example of the bold, rocky coast of Maine. But, as such, it provides only a limited and skewed glimpse of Maine. What is missing for the visitor to Acadia are the critical waterway linkages between ocean and interior forest that have been so critical to Maine’s history — beginning with the retreat of the ice caps 10,000 years ago up to the present day.
A new national park in Maine’s interior could illustrate that vital link for legions of visitors to Maine.
Because the ice sheets retreated in a northwesterly direction, Maine’s rivers flow into the ocean within the confines of the state. This unique situation meant that our native freshwater fish populations developed from salt-tolerant, cold-water species such as salmon, brook trout, white perch, smelt and alewife.
Northern states to our west were repopulated mostly by warm, freshwater species such as bass, sunfish and yellow perch after the ice retreat because they are connected to the Mississippi River Basin, a warm, freshwater drainage. Maine also has unique waterfowl assemblages adapted to coastal and freshwater habitats. Visitors today can see species such as eiders, golden-eyes and loons wintering in the Acadia area and nesting in the interior Penobscot watershed in the summer.
As well as serving as a wildlife corridor, the Penobscot River was a seasonal waterway for indigenous people who spent their summers in the Acadia coast region and their winters upriver. After colonial settlement, the Penobscot became a transportation conduit to the interior for logging operations as well as a sluiceway to bring logs to the mills in the Bangor area. Locally built ships transported wood products out through Penobscot Bay, making Bangor the “Lumber Capital of the World” for a while. In the 1850s philosopher Henry David Thoreau steamed up the Penobscot to Bangor, hired an Indian guide in Old Town, and canoed his way into Maine’s wilderness — thereby setting the example for generations of trekkers who followed in his footsteps.
Early dam construction on the east and west branches and the main stem of the Penobscot River yielded raw power for small mills and later, with increased dam size, power for electricity generation. As paper mills dumped raw effluent into this backed-up sewer, we witnessed dramatic environmental changes. But in very recent time, pollution control legislation and dam removals are turning back the clock and renewing this historic corridor.
Based on these physical, cultural and historic connections, I see Elliotsville Plantation’s proposal for a national park and recreation area on a parcel of land that envelops the East Branch of the Penobscot River as the missing piece that could link Acadia National Park on Penobscot Bay with interior Maine — essentially two ends of a natural corridor.
My idea would be to formally link the two parks. Each could have the same short video in the visitor centers to portray this connection, and the public could be encouraged to visit the other park (and sights in between) to get the fuller picture. Bangor could be one of the places along the corridor for people to see such things as large Victorian homes built by the lumber barons; the results of dam removal and river restoration; the historic salmon clubs along the river.
The partnership between these two relatively small national parks would greatly expand and enrich the visitor experience, encompassing the fuller Maine perspective from geologic ice age to the present.
Here in the eastern U.S., we don’t have the luxury of setting aside huge tracts of land for national parks. But by introducing creative solutions, such as the one I am proposing in which two small national parks are formally linked, we can provide greatly expanded visitor experiences that encompass an entire watershed.
Richard Jagels is professor emeritus of forest biology in the School of Forest Resources at the University of Maine.