Nine years ago, I traveled into Lobster Lake to tag the Lobster Mountain hike, but through a comedy of errors, and try as I might, bushwhacking hither and yon, I never did find the trailhead.
I was misled by a photo of the trail that was (and still is) posted at the Lobster put-in. It incorrectly depicted where the trail began. Had I checked the proper map stowed in my gear, I would’ve fared better, but nooooo. Ha.
So here I am, nine years later, back at Lobster Lake with unfinished business.
The surface of Lobster Stream is like glass as we slide the old red canoe into the water and paddle away. If there’s a current on this upstream stretch of flatwater that connects Lobster Lake to the West Branch of the Penobscot River, it’s hardly detectable. We stroke easily, quietly, as if not to disturb the peaceful surroundings. We scan the thick shoreline woods of spruce and fir for moose, the grassy banks for beaver, otter, perhaps a mink.
The final light of day stretched across Lobster Lake from the campsite, capping a trip that had taken nine years to complete. Credit: Courtesy of Carey Kish 
Katahdin can be seen from Lobster Lake, adding another familiar Maine landmark to the views from the remote lake. Credit: Courtesy of Carey Kish 
The trail to the Lobster Mountain outlook is 1.5 miles from Lobster Lake, making the hike a manageable addition to the remote paddling trip. Credit: Courtesy of Carey Kish 
Lobster Mountain and Big Spencer Mountain rise above Lobster Lake, part of the scenery that makes the long journey into this remote area worthwhile. Credit: Courtesy of Carey Kish 
After finally finding the Lobster Mountain trail nine years after his first attempt, the author paddled back toward the put-in with the trip behind him. Credit: Courtesy of Carey Kish 
A new side trail high on Lobster Mountain leads to sweeping views of Moosehead Lake, Big Moose Mountain and the surrounding peaks. Credit: Courtesy of Carey Kish
A delightful half an hour and two miles later, we arrive at the opening of Lobster Lake and begin the transect across. Our destination is the lone campsite at Ogden Point, a lovely spot I’ve called home several times in the past. The mid-September afternoon is beautifully blue and pleasantly warm with a light breeze enough to cool our sweaty paddling selves.
The multiple humps of Lobster Mountain appear first, and then, as we approach the middle of the lake’s northwest sector, the long, flat, high ridgeline of Big Spencer Mountain comes into focus just over Lobster’s northernmost peak. Soon enough, over our shoulders to the northeast, the magnificent mass of Katahdin comes into view. We allow the canoe to drift that way and stop and rest a spell to enjoy the fine scene.
As we approach Ogden Point, we notice a canoe on shore, and then a couple of tents, and then people milling about. The site is occupied. Darn. We wave and carry on down the shore of the large bay, intent now on finding an open camp spot somewhere along there.
As we reach the sandy crescent, two women we’d met at the put-in wave us over to the site adjacent to them. We happily beach the canoe and unload. Home!
Just into the woods is a picnic table with a ridgepole and a fire pit. A privy is a few hundred feet away out back. I find a nice piece of soft ground for my tent and begin pitching camp. My buddy discovers that his tent is still in the bed of his pickup, which just so happens to be parked at the park-and-ride in Bangor. Oh well. The forecast is for clear weather, thankfully, so without a worry, he throws down his mattress and bag and calls it good.
We take camp chairs and the little cooler to the beach and set up. Then, with feet up on the canoe, we crack a couple of cold beers and smile in a big way. Happy hour has commenced at this most beautiful spot on one of Maine’s most beautiful lakes. The sun is sinking fast as we drink in the scenery, consider dinner, ponder the building of a campfire (or not) and watch a loon floating and diving, floating and diving.
The sun finally disappears behind the dark margin of trees. We linger a little longer while the sky becomes a kaleidoscope of orange and pink, sky blue and navy. Dinner is a lazy man’s freeze-dried bag of something, and then it’s back to the beach for a nightcap and to watch more of the larger-than-life show that is Lobster Lake. We are way “out there” and we know it, can feel it. Darkness falls, and with that, our eyelids. Sleepy time.
Lobster Lake is situated in the wild, wooded country east of Moosehead Lake and south of the Golden Road. More than a hundred miles from the salty Gulf of Maine coast, the name lobster isn’t one you’d normally associate with the northern Maine woods. But owing to a fluke of topography, the lake just so happens to be shaped like a lobster claw. The large eastern side of the lake is actually named Big Claw (think crusher claw), while the smaller western side is called Little Claw (think pincer claw).
Lobster Lake and a portion of the namesake mountain are part of the Penobscot River Corridor and Seboomook Public Lands. Administered by Maine’s Bureau of Parks and Lands, the vast conservation unit encompasses 100 rugged miles of rivers, lakes and streams in the upper reaches of the Penobscot River watershed.
It takes some doing to get to Lobster Lake, but it’s worth the effort. Access is from the east at Millinocket via the Golden Road or from the south at Kokadjo by way of Sias Hill Road. Gravel road travel is slow and the possibility of a flat tire is real, so prepare accordingly.
Either way, to reach Lobster Lake you must pass through the Caribou Lake checkpoint, where day-use and camping fees are charged by North Maine Woods (cash or check only).
The put-in is on Lobster Trip Road right after it passes over Lobster Stream. There’s ample parking, a privy and an information kiosk. Lobster Lake sports 11 campsites, first-come, first-served, each with a picnic table, fire pit and privy. There are also two group campsites. The lake is renowned for its unusual sedimentary and igneous rock formations, long stretches of sandy beach with great swimming and extraordinary sunsets.
There’s another big draw to Lobster, especially for hikers like you and me. A two-mile trail leads from Jackson Cove to a lookout at roughly the 2,000-foot contour on Lobster Mountain. The hike is pretty unique in that it’s one of just three in the entire Maine Mountain Guide that are accessible only by water. Takes some doing, don’t you know.
A gray morning. Coffee and breakfast. Ranger Tammy motors over to check on us and our permits. She’s in charge of the lake and more along the river corridor. Nice work if you can get it. We’re legit, and we wave as she cruises away to meet and greet other campers. To be sure, she does confirm the Lobster Mountain trailhead location.
We get our act together, load the boat and are off like a herd of turtles, paddling toward Jackson Cove.
Lo and behold, a half-hour later, there’s the sign I’ve longed to see: “Lobster Mtn. 2 Miles.” We pull the boat in, trade flip-flops for boots and socks, shoulder our day packs and strike off up the trail.
The trail winds gradually over the northern slope, and in just over an hour, we’ve reached the main outlook and a nice bench. My GPS reads 1.5 miles; duly noted.
The view over Lobster Lake is grand: wild, forested country as far as the eye can see. We step down to look around the corner and are greeted with a huge look at mighty Katahdin and many of its high neighbors. A wonderful reward that’s been worth the wait. We hang for a while, enjoy snacks and water and then begin the descent.
A new side trail, passed on the climb, beckons. Three hundred feet to its end, we revel in the big view of Big Moose Mountain and Moosehead Lake and the line of sharp-faced peaks, from Norcross, Eagle, Little Kineo and Shaw mountains to the iconic Mount Kineo. An impressive array, for sure.
The return paddle is a quiet one. We are simply awed by this remote place. Nearing the entrance to Lobster Stream, we stop paddling and let the wind turn us around. We enjoy one last, long, amazing view.
I’m wistful as we right ourselves and proceed into the stream for the final segment of the journey. Short a trip as it was, it’s been a hell of an adventure. I sneak one more look back before we turn the corner, already planning to return.
