Each month, Down East editors select our favorite response to “Where in Maine?” Here is our favorite letter from February.
Although the structure has since slightly changed, the pier at Falmouth Town Landing is indelibly burned into my childhood memories. My alarm would wake me up at 3 a.m., mid-summer. I would ride my bike a mile to my buddy Eddy’s house, and we’d bike down the very steep Town Landing Road, trusting our brakes. An incoming tide increased our odds of a lucky night, and we would fish for hours under the single pier light until after sunrise. We cleaned all our fish dockside and kept a few, but gave most to appreciative neighbors. My personal best tinker (mackerel) total was 54; I had a deuce of a time balancing them on my bicycle on the ride home. Yes, we and all other young teens were “free range,” and all our adventures, sunup to sundown, were outdoors. Nearly half a century has passed, and my mind frequently comes back to the Maine coast — as do I, for sea kayaking. I hope I soon see Clapboard Island and the expansive mooring field from my childhood home.