A snowstorm is actually a great time to go camping in Maine

I squeaked March’s motorcycle camping adventure in just under the wire on Friday night. The forecast called for snow but I couldn’t wait for better weather. I’d promised myself to camp every month this year and I was all out of calendar squares.

So, I packed up my tent and snowshoes. Then, I steered for Sebago Lake State Park. It’s not far from home but far enough. I arrived and hiked in about a quarter mile from the road. I settled into a lean-to under the pines. Before dark, I walked to the shore and had a look at the lake as the snow started to fall.

My camping and riding gnome, WTF Chuck, stands watch over my tent and stuff in a lean-to at Sebago Lake State Park on Friday night.

My camping and riding gnome, WTF Chuck, stands watch over my tent and stuff in a lean-to at Sebago Lake State Park on Friday night. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

Sebago Lake brooded the night before the storm. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

Sebago Lake brooded the night before the storm. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

After dark, I ate some supper and snuggled into my sleeping bag with a book.

By morning, at least six inches of new snow lay on the ground and it was still coming down hard. The front of the shelter was banked up with show that slid off the metal roof in the night.

At least six inches of new snow fell overnight. I was happy to be camped under a shelter. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

At least six inches of new snow fell overnight. I was happy to be camped under a shelter. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

I lit my one-burner stove and made coffee. Then I sat for a while, sipping and watching the snow come down. It was lovely as long as you weren’t thinking of spring.

I drank a second cup of joe and strapped on the snowshoes, setting off for the lake. The woods were silent. When I stopped trudging and held my breath I could hear each flake hit the ground. I was the only person there.

Winter lay thick on the trees and shoreline even though the calendar said it was April. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

Winter lay thick on the trees and shoreline even though the calendar said it was April. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

At the shore, I found an unbroken snowscape all long the mouth of the Songo River. It was the first day of fishing season but there were no anglers about, just a few ducks huddled in a patch of open water offshore.

At noon, I packed up and snowshoed back out to my bike. I got stuck trying to make it through a snowbank and back onto the road. I had to call the ranger for help. I figured he’d be mad but he was amused, instead. He gave me a hand and we pushed the bike through the drift. He asked a few questions about my odd bike and wished me safe travels home.

Then, I rode back to Portland. Visibility was almost zero behind my foggy, snow-covered visor. It took a while and I was soaked by the time I got home. It was a fairly miserable ride. But it was worth it to hear the snow fall and watch winter die gracefully.

This is the third installment of a yearlong project where I will report on a motorcycle camping adventure at least once per month throughout 2017.

At least six inches of new snow fell overnight. I was happy to be camped under a shelter. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

At least six inches of new snow fell overnight. I was happy to be camped under a shelter. Troy R. Bennett | BDN

Troy R. Bennett

About Troy R. Bennett

Troy R. Bennett is a Buxton native and longtime Portland resident whose photojournalism has appeared in media outlets all over the world.