Sixty-seven years ago, a guy named Winter cut the first ski trail on Maine’s second-highest mountain. Today, 162 ski runs stripe the massive cone, seen here from a freshly broken snowshoe trail. Do you recognize this snow-streaked peak?
How Maine ended up with its oddball system for picking a president — and why that system is better than the way 48 other states do it.
I need, and refuse to own, a navigational system with a robotic voice saying turn left here, go 200 yards, bear right, etc., etc. I am under the stars, benighted in the shallows, churning up mud, with time and tide running out.
Maine high-schoolers tackle the publishing biz — with Down East as their model.
With an eye on a quick sale, a couple updates a tattered old house on Portland’s Munjoy Hill — and they like it so well, they decide to stay.
Cold days and long nights wearing on you? To bust through those mid-winter doldrums, we have four heart-pounding, adrenaline-pumping races for you to check out (or try out) this year.
There’s a trace of the sacred in it — in the light, in the title — plus a hint of the absurd, the faintest whiff of the freewheeling nature of that day at sea.
Ron Currie has some thoughts on Maine’s most rapidly changing city and the gentrification that displaced him from a neighborhood he loves.
Home is someplace between Walden and a woodstove.