Walden Pond, MA
11:52 PM
I rose from the floor at Maureen’s today, said my goodbye to my new friends, typed out the Maine entries, and packed my car. It was another amazing day, with no clouds, and a slight breeze off of the water. Before I could leave Maine I had to officially say goodbye. I got out a towel, my chair, and my notebook and walked the ¼ mile to the public beach access. I walked out to see some families sitting and a lot of kids running around in Biddeford Pool. I made my way to some open space, took off my sandals, got out my spread, and went down to put my feet in the water. It was not near as cold as the water in Acadia. I went in up to my shins. I soaked up the view of the beach and rotate, soaking in the water and the islands. I headed back to my spot. I laid down and began to write.
I laid there for a while and wrote. Then I went back in the water, dried off, got in my car and drove. I’m trying to get to the good stuff.
I headed back down 95 towards my aunt and uncles. I had seen signs for Walden Pond on the way up and I was curious. In looking at the atlas I saw it was in the vicinity, maybe 30 or 40 miles. I called my dad as I drove and asked him to look it up on the internet. He did and gave me a number to call.
For those of you that don’t know, Henry David Thoreau built a home/shack on Walden Pond in 1845. He lived there for two years, alone, and in the woods. Walden is now a state reservation. I read the early part of the book before I left on my journey. Some of his words talked to me, but I decided I was to busy and did not want to move into the woods by myself, so I didn’t finish it. Sean had Walden with him in Maine, so I took it as a sign and decided I should see about going. I got the number from dad and called.
They said they were open from 7 to 7. The guy suggested I come out in the early morning to avoid the crowds. I am not well read and don’t accuse our population of being focused on other things, but it seemed weird that Walden would be overrun with followers. “Why is it so crowded?” I asked. “Oh, we get 600 – 700,000 people a year in here to swim. It’s not that far out of Boston…” That was all I needed to here. I could go swim in Walden Pond. I passed up my aunt and uncle’s exit and made the line to Walden Pond. It’s outside of Concord. I took 495 to 2, then rt. on 126. It was right there. I pulled in, happily gave the girl $5, and parked. I was surprised to see so many people walking around in bathing suits and towels. It was like I was at the beach, but I was still in the woods.
I loaded my backpack with a towel, my swimsuit, a hat, and my walkman. They handed me a map. I headed toward the replica house. I was amazed at what I saw. I knew Thoreau had built his house pretty much himself, but this was the smallest thing ever. I think it was 15 by 10. There was a cot, a fireplace, a table, and a chair. He had a shed outback with firewood. Two years in this shack. What a vibe it had. To read it and then to see it was incredible.
I stayed around for a few minutes. A couple about my age came in and we talked about how cool it was and how we could do it. And then we talked about laptops, cell phones, and needing internet connections. They went their way and I went mine. I headed down the path with sore legs (from the Acadia hike) and foolishly only my sandals. The path was clear, but rocky/pebbly. My right foot still has something on the bottom. This may turn out to be my Walden wound.
I walked down to the Pond and saw a lot of people hanging out like it was a beach. I made a right turn towards where the original house’s foundation was. After a few stops to get stones out from under my feet, I arrived. It was as he said, off the path slightly, on a hill, looking down to the water. I could hear the railroad in the distance. It still is right on the edge of the pond. I took pictures and walked onto the spot where the chimney foundation was. As tradition holds, I threw a rock on the pile next to the house. His friend (I can’t remember his name) first threw stones down at the foundation spot so he would remember as he got older. The tradition continues. My stone is on there.
I then made my way back to the pond trail. I wanted to walk the whole pond. It was close to 5 so the sun was setting on some of the pond. I was looking for sun. I had to swim! I was still in my shorts and saw on the map there were no restrooms or changing area to be found. It was all the way back at the main beach, across the pond. I found the right spot. It was sunny, there was only one guy swimming there, so I took the 6 or 7 rock steps down to the water. I got out my stuff. I set up my chair. I took out my towel. I emptied my pockets. “OK, shorts or swimsuit?” I asked myself over and over. I wanted the suit. It sucks swimming in underwear and shorts. Plus I knew I would be cold walking around. I paced back and forth, headed up to the path to see, and went for it. I wrapped my towel around me, hung up my suit on a tree, whipped off my shorts and underwear clumsily, leaving them on the muddy ground, and threw on my suit. No passer by’s. No mother and child walking up on me and screaming that I was some weirdo. I was just a guy wanting to swim in Walden Pond.
And swim I did. I leaped out into the water and did the butterfly for a few strokes. I stood up, it wasn’t that deep, and surveyed where I was. “I am in Walden Pond! Thoreau swam right here.” I arched my back, did a back float, put my ears under the water and could hear nothing. I splashed my hands. Nothing. I looked around and could only see the sunshine and the trees. I was in heaven. I laid there for as long as I could. I then treaded water for a while. I talked with the guy for a bit, but it was mainly me. Me being the tourist that I am, I dried off my hands and set up my camera. Timer on, hit the button, jump into the water, and shot. Perfect.
I floated for a while and had a permanent grin on my face. I tried to figure out if the people were here for the water or for the book. I am guessing I was one of the 10% who were there for the book. And I guess the water too.
I got out and walked around the pond, past the railroad, and over to another sunny spot. I passed a walk down where there was a group. I kept walking. I passed a spot in between them and another group that was flat and sandy. I decided it was now or never. I headed down the rock path, “Hey man, I need to borrow some of your sun,” and made my way to the right and to my spot. The sun was shining right at me. By this time it was 6. It was bright. I was at the right angle. I leaped back in. I didn’t float or swim near as long. Maybe after 5 minutes I went back to shore and stood and surveyed. Awesome. I tried to call my cousin Colin but only got his voice mail. I waded around. As things seem to be working out, directly in front of my chair, about 3 feet into the water was a rock. This was a big rock that was flat. I had found me a chair. It was sitting perfectly. I say perfect for me. The water came over it by only an inch or two. I sat on it, put on my shades and watched the TV. People swam by. Ducks swam by. A young teenage couple made out to my right. The group that I passed on the way in left. There was an older guy there for the book farther to my left, laying on a towel reading. “That’ll be me in 50 years.” (One of my favorite pictures)
All of the highs of the past few days came over me: the sailboat, Maine, Acadia, and now Walden. How lucky am I? This is the best thing ever. A grin did not leave my face. Peace and mellowness stayed with me.
I swaggered around the rest of Walden. I made it back to my car and headed for home. I am at my aunt and uncles. I can’t wait to sleep in a bed. I’m not sure if I hashed this out already, but since last Saturday it’s been 4 days on a boat, one on a floor, one camping, one in the hostel, one on the floor, and now tonight, where I have a bed. I can’t wait.
I head upstairs to post this, edit and post some pictures, and go to be knowing I have had some of the best days of my life this week. I will take this with me forever. Awesome.