Maine

Maine is synonymous with moose, and tourists get mighty disappointed when they don't see them, which is often the case. Go as far north as Baxter State Park (where I saw my first moose in the wild 10 years ago), outside of Millinocket or Moosehead Lake and your luck will grow. After hearing about Moosehead Lake for years, I figured it would be teeming with tourists. I was delightfully surprised to find the lake surrounded by mostly woods, and once outside of the small, charming but not touristy town of Greenville, the area was largely uninhabited.

Moosehead, 40 miles long, has about 400 miles of shoreline. Summer tourists come mostly to fish and to see moose. The Moosehead Lake Region Chamber of Commerce sponsors MooseMainea, a series of events from mid-May to mid-June, which helps kick off tourist season. One of the busiest moose-watching operations runs out of the Birches Resort in Rockwood, where I stayed. Rockwood is 20 miles north of Greenville on the western shore and home to many rustic facilities for outdoorspeople. The Birches, on the narrowest part of the lake, is across from Mount Kineo, a small but steep mountain made of flintlike volcanic rock that rises vertically out of the lake. A sporting camp built in the 1930s, the Birches has simple, charming housekeeping cabins just a few feet from the water and a few ''cabin tents'' with beds and standing room set back in the woods. It also makes available several yurts, te pee-like structures set deep in the woods, and has a good restaurant that overlooks the lake and Kineo.

During a morning mountain bike ride (rentals available). I spotted a deer and a fox but, alas, no moose. Around noon I drove to Greenville to go on the Moose Watch offered by Folsom's Air Service. We took off from the lake in a tiny float plane and got a different perspective of Moosehead Lake. At one point our pilot did a hard bank, swooped down, and pointed out a moose standing in the middle of a bog, eating away. The ride was a little bumpy, a little nerve- racking, but mostly thrilling, especially taking off and landing on the water.

Feeling lucky, that evening I took the Birches' popular Moose Cruise on a pontoon boat, open to the public as well as to guests. After about 30 minutes, we were in Socatean Stream, a shallow area of heavy woods and tiny islands of vegetation - and no people in sight. Again, the suspense. Will we see a moose? Before long, a sighting! A cow and her calf, feeding on a small island, spotted us just as we spotted them and crossed the shallow sandbar, hightailing it into the thick woods. Later we saw another mother and calf feeding in the water, just on shore's edge, and, for an added bonus, we also spied a bald eagle perched high in a dead tree.

The next day a guide, myself, and another Birches guest went by one-person sea kayaks back to where the pontoon boat had gone. The August day was perfect, with next to no wind. The air was so clear we could see Mount Katahdin, in Baxter State Park, far in the distance to the northwest. As we begin to paddle around a maze of tiny islands and a zigzagging coastline, there she was - a cow feeding near the shoreline. We watched for a while, as she made her way across the water and headed back into the woods. After about three hours of easy paddling, we stopped for a picnic (provided by the Birches) near Socatean Falls. We weren't in any danger of going over - the falls were underwater after a summer of rain.

Paddling back, I was ahead of the group for a while, feeling like an explorer, perhaps because I was only a few hours from the trail Henry David Thoreau took across Moosehead Lake, which he wrote about in ''The Maine Woods.'' I rounded a thick clump of vegetation and it was all I could do to keep from shouting in glee. Not more than 25 yards ahead was a moose standing in about two feet of water and eating aquatic plants to her heart's content. I signaled to the others and we slowly paddled forward in silence. We stayed near the beautiful creature for about 30 minutes, and at times I was so close I was afraid the wind would lift my kayak and deposit me right at her feet. She would occasionally look up at us but seemed completely complacent. As we paddled away I looked back and she was still lazily munching the greenery.

Six weeks later, in early October, I went to Rangeley to catch the always spectacular fall foliage. Rangeley, another unpretentious small town, is about 150 miles southwest of Moosehead by back roads. It's closer to where I was in New Hampshire, only 30 miles east of Colebrook. I've been visiting Rangeley for many years with a friend who has a summer house there. On a bike ride up Route 4 a few years ago, I spotted my second moose (and a fox, porcupine, deer, and otter), but I'm sorry to report that no more were to be seen on this visit. We took a few drives along routes 4, 16, and 17, prime moose areas, and some friends went on the dawn Moose Cruise arranged by the lovely Rangeley Inn on the Kennebago River. They saw a blue heron but no moose, however they reported that the two-hour canoe trip was worth getting up before dark because the scenery was so beautiful. (They also were thrilled that guide Rich Gacki showed up with coffee and homemade muffins.)

Published 05/23/99 in the Boston Suday Globe's Travel Section.