Camping perfection in Maine: Cobscook Bay State Park
If you’ve seen the highway signs, then you know that Maine is “the way life should be” (no offense to the 603, but I tend to agree)—and Cobscook Bay State Park is certainly, in my mind, the way camping should be. I’m not sure how any campground—or campsite—will compare after this particular weekend.
I knew that getting to Cobscook Bay State Park would take some planning; at five hours from home, this park is the farthest away of all the parks we planned to visit this summer. And amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, we’re taking our camping and precautions very seriously, since G is immuno-compromised as a kidney transplant recipient and currently on the list for another transplant. So, for us, being safe has meant packing everything we need for the trip (all food, beverages, supplies), having (and using) plenty on hand sanitizer and masks, and gassing up the van before we leave home and refilling only when we need to and, ideally, doing so locally (before leaving town and then upon our return). For this trip, though, due to the distance, we filled up in Freeport, after leaving Bradbury Mountain State Park (more on that in a sec) so we’d have a full tank for the rest of the drive up. Then, we refilled once on the return trip—about two hours into the drive home and three from home. No bathroom stops (yup, that meant holding it for five hours). No “lallygagging.” Then, once at our sites, we stay put, with our Nemo Heliopolis privacy shelter allowing us to be self-contained and able to avoid public restrooms. With all of that said, however, we’ve been impressed with the precautions all of the state parks in New Hampshire and Maine have been taking: operating at less-than-full capacity; limiting bathrooms to one person/family at a time (even in large bathrooms with multiple stalls); employees (and visitors) wearing masks at headquarters; contactless check-ins and interactions—and even campsite delivery of firewood (at two parks in NH). While we are getting out of the house and choosing to camp, we’re not taking ANY chances. We’re staying local to New Hampshire and Maine and being as responsible and safe as possible; for instance, we’re not about to hike (or paddle) beyond our capabilities. No crowded trailheads, challenging hikes, or crowded spots for us this summer, and honestly, that’s more than okay with us.
We initially booked our trip for an earlier weekend in July, but we scrapped those plans when the forecast was calling for a coastal storm; we didn’t want to make the drive only to end up getting rained out. And so, that’s how we found ourselves at Cobscook Bay SP the weekend of July 24-26, two weeks later than our planned visit—and the weather could not have been more gorgeous. We had originally planned for a Thursday-Sunday trip, but we were only able to secure reservations for Friday and Saturday nights. We thought about taking our chances on a walk-up/non-reservable site for Thursday but instead opted to stay at Bradbury Mountain State Park in Pownal, Maine, shaving off about 1.5 hours from the overall trip. Unfortunately, Bradbury was a bit of a disappointment (you can read all about that here), but Cobscook Bay State Park more than made up for that—in fact, it spoiled us beyond measure.
Cobscook Bay SP was on my radar ever since our three-week road trip last summer through Maine and the Canadian Maritimes, as the park is just 30 minutes from one of the stops we made on that trip—Campobello Island and Roosevelt Campobello International Park, just across the Maine/Canada border. Cobscook SPpark is about 30 minutes from Lubec, Maine, home to West Quoddy Head Light, the easternmost point of the contiguous United States (and our last stop on last year’s road trip). The park offers incredible views of the dramatic rise and fall of the tides. In fact, “Cobscook” is a Maliseet-Passamaquoddy tribal word meaning “boiling tides.” And boy, those tides did NOT disappoint. For example, on Saturday, July 25, the tides at Cobscook Bay ranged from -0.8 feet at low tide (10:46am) to 19.3 feet at high tide (4am). For reference, back home on New Hampshire’s seacoast, low tide that same day was -0.7 feet at 9:49am and 9.6 feet at high tide at 3:11am. At the time of my screenshot (3:49pm), the tides were 17.89 feet high.
I’m not even sure how to put into words how dramatic the change is. The stone fire ring in the photo below? That’s at low tide. By high tide, it’s completely covered by water, leaving no indication of its existence. Fascinating.
We had booked site #18 based on the ranger’s suggestion when I called to reschedule and get advice. I think she misunderstood me when I said we had a campervan—not a camper—as she told us that site 18 would be a good fit for us of given the other options. Still, when we checked in Friday just before 1pm, I decided to take our chances and see if any waterfront sites were available and suitable for our VW Eurovan Weekender. She gave us site 125—a non-reservable site considered “small” that was on the water and included an Adirondack shelter. We had a long, private driveway into the site, which was basically at the tip of a mini-peninsula. A few steps down from the actual site, which was elevated above Burnt Cove, and we were on the edge of the water (at low tide) and on the rocks (at high tide). From our site, we could neither see nor hear anyone else. G thinks the site had to be nearly an acre in size. Needless to say, nothing prepared us for the grandeur, beauty, and solitude we would have for the next 40-odd hours.
We originally thought we’d explore the surrounding area, perhaps head out to Quoddy Head State Park to walk some of the trails there, but when we arrived at the site, we knew we’d be staying put for the weekend and soaking up the incredible scenery. Between my phone and camera, I took hundreds of photos; I couldn’t get enough of the view, the tides, the light, everything.
We spent a bit of time Saturday morning walking the park with our map, marking all the sites we’d love to have for future visits. This park is HUGE (888 acres!), and our walk ended up being just shy of five miles! And our scouting report tells us one thing: there’s really not a bad site in the park. Sure, they’re not all waterfront sites (and many that are waterfront are tent-only and require a short walk from the parking area to the tent area). But seriously, the sites are enormous and incredibly private and secluded. We felt like we were in our own little world, off at the edge of the world (or at least of this part of Maine). See that little green dot on the Strava map below? That’s our campsite. Those red lines outline our walk.
This weekend’s food options were pretty simple. We made pie iron “sandwiches” using tortillas instead of bread. Friday night, the filling was a made-ahead buffalo chicken and cheese mixture ; Saturday night included leftovers of the buffalo chicken for me and leftovers of the bean/olive/green chil and cheese mixture from Thursday’s nachos for G. The highlight? Fox Family Potato Chips, which we first had at Pineland Farms in New Gloucester, Maine. These might just be the best potato chips EVER. Our breakfasts and lunches were simple as well—banana bread (made ahead at home), coffee, peanut butter and jelly roll-ups. But the real treat of the weekend was the blueberry cobbler I made on Saturday evening. I’m more of a fan of fruit crisps, but I figured I’d pack a tube of refrigerated biscuits and try a cobbler. The verdict? So, so good—with plenty of leftovers!
Everywhere—absolutely everywhere—was something new, different, and beautiful catching my eye—sea shells scattered among the groundcover, the joints in the logs of the Adirondack shelter, the bark of the cedar trees, baby pinecones. I wanted to capture it all—or at least try.
We spent fewer than 48 hours here, and yet the time seemed to slip by slowly, giving us the break we craved. We’ve camped in some gorgeous coastal spots since getting the van last year, with Meat Cove in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia and Hermit Island in Phippsburg, Maine topping the list. But Cobscook Bay State Park now sits squarely—and solely—in that top spot. We hit the jackpot with Cobscook, and from now on, this will be the park and site to beat…if that’s even possible.