Frye's Leap is named so because apparently waaaaay back, a hunter named Captain Frye was being chased by Indians and jumped off the top, landing in snow and surviving. It's a big jump. It's completely illegal to do this, and even though every weekend there are dozens of people on there, I've seen the coast guard arrest people for being there.
No, I didn't jump off of it. But I decided earlier this year when I was adventuring in the woods that I would at least stand on top of it and explore the area. I went not for glory, but for awesome pictures.
So, Wednesday, I set off on my bike to explore the area and see just how sweet of a view I could get from the highest point I've seen on the beautiful lake I grew up on.
I started out by biking down toward the end of the road, and riding into the middle of the woods. Frye's leap is on camp property, and there are no trespassing signs everywhere. I would definitely not recommend doing this, as it is often patrolled or at least checked by the camp- this is why I avoided roads and hoofed it through the woods. I could at least hide or try and play stupid if I got caught. I used my iphone as my GPS, and found my way there.
I always get spooked by random piles of huge rocks in the middle of the woods. How could these be anything but graves?
After some GPSing, I suddenly knew I was there.
this would be very bad to ride down
the walk from the woods to the ledge
I stood on top, and was pretty blown away by the view. I'd spent my whole childhood seeing people on this rock and only now decided I needed to see the view from the top. It was really, really nice.
Sebago Lake rules.
I was up there long enough to see the Frye Island ferry go back to mainland- you can see it in the distance (it's the big thing with the white lines down it).
I then hiked down this, which was way harder than it looked. I immediately saw how people really only get to the middle ridge, and only do it by going UP. I scraped the hell out of my knees by climbing down this:
But it was worth it.
In the right corner, you can see some faint red color- apparently, this isn't from some punk kids. From www.fryeisland.com,
the view looking up (the rock on the bottom left looks like an ape!)
more views from the bottom
I then checked out the ledge where 90% of people jump off of. Some lunatics jump from the very top, and I think they are completely insane to do so. Not only is it insanely high, but the rock goes out pretty far, meaning you have to have a perfect jump to not die. The view from the main ledge was surprisingly less terrifying than I thought it would be. I could jump off this. But not alone. And not when my bike is hiding up in the woods and I have a camera and phone on me. I grew up having zero interest and a fair amount of fear in doing this, but can now honestly say that I'd do this if I was with some friends. But sorry blog followers, this was not the day to be that awesome.
not too bad, but still much higher than it looks
I then had to climb up this, which involved more knee scraping and some very sketchy trap-my-body-between-2-rocks-and-inch-up-with-almost-zero-holds-while-a-cliff-is-on-the-other-side-of-the-rocks climbing. Needless to say, my arms were stiff the next day.
Again, much bigger than it looks
Frye's Leap is a nice spot.
I then tried to explore a weird area I'd always thought might have some cool woods when I saw it growing up.
But sadly, much like most of the woods around me, it had turned into this:
Damn, I hate clear-cutting
When I left Frye's Leap, I realized that my back tire was oddly flat- not completely flat, but lacking a good half of the air it originally had. I tried to pump it up, but my pump wasn't working right. I finally got out an extra tube to try and replace it entirely, and couldn't get anything to work. I kept thinking of the problems I had had when I tried to switch tubes on my road ride to Fernal Shores, and finally came to the realization that my portable pump had died. It just refused to work on anything. I called my mom, joked that I had been arrested, and asked if she could come rescue me. I didn't want to waste my entire afternoon walking 2 and a half miles back to our house. She saved me. Thanks mom.
mom to the rescue
While I waited, I took a picture I've always wanted to take. After going down some hills and seeing some boring straight aways, you are suddenly met by the lake at an absolutely beautiful spot that always gets amazing sunsets. I've often left my house to go back to mass and gone in the wrong direction just to see this spot. I didn't get the shot I wanted (too early for sunset), but I got a pretty amazing one anyway.
yes, this is real
I then decided that if I was going to be in Maine, I had better go swimming at least once this summer. As the rocks were incredibly slippery, I fell in after 2 steps, but the water was unbelievably refreshing. Cold and perfect. The waves were a bit much, but the strong winds felt great. Then I sat and read a little with this as my view:
Then I decided to step it up in the epic-life-moment scale, and played some guitar. Sitting on a dock with this as my view, alone and peaceful, with an amazing breeze hitting me in the face and a cold root beer next to me, I played some new stuff, some stuff I wrote in this house 10 years ago, and a finger picked chord that I discovered on the deck of the somerville apartment I lived in years ago, which couldn't have fit sitting and looking at a lake better. I could play those notes forever with a nice view in front of me.
As if some unseen epic-life-moment force was watching me, nature stepped it up and the gigantic great blue heron who I've seen for years (or an offspring) decided to make an appearance, flying from just next to where I had swam to far out in the lake and then to the cove we always thought it lived in. A perfect end to a solid session of adventuring and lake peace. I love lakes.
currently listening to: Snoop Dogg- Death Row: The Lost Sessions (it's not good)