Acadia National Park is unique for a rich combination of elements-land and sea, woodland, lake and mountain-no one of which dominates another. Quite small, 41,645 acres, Acadia of all national parks evokes the strongest, most long-lasting response from the greatest number of people.
Acre for acre, Acadia is the second most-visited national park in the country. In 2002, more than 5-million cars crossed the bridge onto Mount Desert Island. For the past 60 years, visitation has doubled every 20 years. Acadia is, after all, the only national park on the Atlantic coast; as such it is closely tied to the swelling Boston-Washington-New York-philadelphia megalopolis. Its population pressures are hers.
Most of Acadia is on Mount Desert Island, the largest island on the Atlantic coast north of New York's Long Island. Although small, interesting sections lie on various other islands, including Isle au Haut, and on Schoodic Peninsula, Acadia spreads across about two-thirds of Mount Desert Island.
The remainder of the island is occupied by four totally individualistic towns-Bar Harbor, Southwest Harbor, Mount Desert, and Tremont.
Park borders are highly irregular, and many places it is difficult to tell where the park leaves off and private property begins. Acadia is made up almost entirely of more than 500 privately donated parcels of land, a gift-giving that continues even today. Never had so many given so much that everyone might benefit. Park officials, responding to resident fears the tax base will be eliminated entirely, hope to establish permanent park boundaries.
Acadia began in 1901 when a small group of summer residents became concerned over indiscriminate exploitation of Island resources. Acadia, some say, was created by the portable chainsaw—a technology that made possible the destruction of mountaintop trees.
Dr. Charles W. Eliot, president emeritus of Harvard, and George B. Dorr of Boston led a drive that eventually brought more than 6,000 acres into public trust. Dorr, who contributed his personal fortune to the project, is regarded as father of the park. From the beginning, Acadia has attracted serious intellectuals, and many have taken pen to paper to create lasting literary and philosophical works celebrating its splendors.
While it was Idealism that sparked the park's initial formation, cold, hard economic realities have favored its survival. According to Acadia's officially authorized website, in terms of generated income, park acreage is far and away Maine's most productive. Officials say that each acre of parkland draws $3,400 to the economic base while an acre of timber brings just $380. This ten-to-one differential makes the proposal for a national park in Maine's north woods seem rather enticing.
Acadia became a national monument in 1916, and a national park in 1919, the first national park east of the Rockies. Until 1929 it was known as LaFayette National Park. (Incidentally, Yellowstone, the world's first national park, was founded in 1872. The national parks concept is among the best this country has had; many other nations have adopted it successfully.)
Acadia owes much of her growth of John D. Rockefeller Jr., whose family summers at Seal Harbor. Rockefeller built the carriage roads, and made sure the park contained substantial stretches of coast. Today, two-thirds of publicly-owned Maine coast is in Acadia National Park.
Acadia owes much of her fascination to events that began a million years ago. During the last ice age, the tremendous weight of a mile-thick ice sheet depressed the countryside as much as 600 feet. When the ice withdrew, Mount Desert, which had been high upon the mainland, was left as an island.
The effects of glaciations can still be seen. Mountains rise gradually from the northwest, drop off sharply to the southeast. The island is wedge-shaped, gaining elevation as one progresses southeast. Certain southeastern headlands-Schooner Head, Great Head, and Otter Cliffs-rise straight from the sea 100 feet and more. Great Head, 160 feet, is the highest sea cliff on the U.S. Atlantic coast.
The glacier created contradictions. As John Cole, former Maine Times editor, put it: "The island and park landscapes are an incredible combining of the fragile and the violent, the delicate and the massive, the smooth and the rough, the contorted and the calm, the shattered and the serene." A startling illustration of the glacier's raw power is the huge boulder perched, seemingly precariously, on South Bubble. A glacial erratic, its course-grained composition is unique to the region. Nobody knows from where it came. Only that huge block of ice could have brought it.
Somes Sound, gouged by the ice, splits Mount Desert Island almost in two. Its waters, more than 100 feet deep, fill the only fjord on the east coast.
Since Acadia is located where northern and temperate zones meet and overlap, her variety of flora and fauna is extraordinary. There are some 50 species of mammals, and perhaps 1,500 plants. A grove of scrub oak on Acadia Mountain represents a species found nowhere else north of Long Island, New York. Here too is the Maine coast's only remaining strand of first growth spruce.
For obscure geologic reasons, the beach at Monument Cove has large round boulders, while Hunter's Beach has small round cobbles. Granite on the island's eastern side is pinkish, while westerly it tends to be gray.
The sand of Sand Beach is strangely composed. The only extensive public sandbeach in Hancock County, much of its surface actually is pulverized seashell. Nobody knows the location of the shell be from which it is drawn.
Cadillac Mountain the highest point (1,500 ft.) on the Atlantic coast between Newfoundland and Brazil, frequently is first in North America to see the sun. Its strategic location for a radar station made it a point of intrigue during World War II; from Cadillac summit, given a clear day, Mt. Katahdin and the White Mountains of New Hampshire are visible. Cadillac is one of 18 peaks on Mount Desert Island. Most of the valleys separating them cradle lakes or large ponds.
Acadia is said to contain the most scenic seaside roads in the eastern United States. The system includes a 20-mile loop road, much of which skirts MDI's rocky coast. The road leads to several of the park's primary attractions, including Sand Beach, Thunder Hole, Otter Cliffs, the Jordan Pond House, and Cadillac Mountain.
Acadia is one of 36 national parks, a link in a system occupying more than 27 million acres—huge sounding, but less than one percent of the land in the country. In Acadia, as in all national parks, there is no hunting of wild animals, no mining of minerals, no grazing of domestic animals, and, by and large, no attempt to turn profits.
Acadia National Park belongs to the people of the United States. Acadia, like every national park, is theirs. The Park Service is charged with preserving her for them. The Service, however, faces a dual role, that of leaving her unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations.
Interests can and do conflict. For some, ever increased visitation means immediate financial windfall; for others, excessive visitation threatens to destroy the assets that make Acadia worth visiting. Reasonable men can disagree over what the park's ultimate load-carrying capacity might be. There is, however, great concern we might be approaching it, and recent years have seen several innovations designed to discourage at least some traffic. User fees have been instituted for Ocean Drive, and, to cut back further on auto traffic, the park has introduced free-admission tour buses, paid for by usage fees charged to visitors.. As this is written, proposals are being discussed to actually close certain areas of the park.
Tight-fisted Congressmen have shown a consistent reluctance to extend national parks adequate financing. According to an analysis paid for in part by Friends of Acadia, a private organization devoted to protecting the park, Acadia is 53 percent underfunded. Among other things, this has meant that many trails have not been maintained very well, although volunteers have done a great deal here.
There's no question about it; park officials have a tough job, an often thankless, unenviable mandate. We can but hope they can summon the wisdom they need to carry out their dual roles successfully.
