Upper Dam is a beautiful site located between Mooselookmeguntic
and Upper Richardson Lakes. An access road leaves the S.E. side of
Rt.16 at approximately N44*55.741 W070*54.580. You WILL NOT get
locked in by the gate near the highway, but you will encounter a
locked gate before reaching the dam. The remaining walk is a
pleasant one of less than a mile. Upper dam can also be accessed
via water from either lake.
I believe it was the summer of 1970 when a friend and I were
walking up the Log Haul Road away from Upper Dam, up past the old
boathouse alongside Mooselookmeguntic Lake when we saw a large
figure sitting stoically upright upon an old make-shift bench. We
were two teenagers who found ourselves awkwardly approaching a
rather gruff looking elderly man who sat as though a statue, both
hands placed atop a walking stick or cane, staring motionlessly out
over the water. To pass by we would have to reluctantly break his
gaze and chance an interaction with this burly giant whom we
instinctively viewed with trepidation. To turn and run would surely
draw attention, so we silently passed by, careful to not turn and
look at what may very well have been a ghost for all we knew. We
were but a few steps beyond the man and the bench and feeling that
first hint of relief when the silence was broken by a firm, yet
gentle voice… “Come and sit down.”
That’s how we met Leon McIntire. We sat for quite some time as
he inquired as to “who we belonged to” and told us of his life as a
Maine Guide and how lucky we were to have so many years ahead of us
to enjoy this place that he loved so much. Though he rarely took
his gaze away from the water, nor did we as I recall, his
recollections were delivered with purpose and not lost on at least
one young man.
He was a guide, a trapper, a family man who had been an expert
marksman in WW1. His camp still stood at the junction of this and
the Carry Road, as it remains today in the care of his descendants.
Most of this and much more I have learned in the years since that
chance meeting. His name and pictures appear in many books written
about the area and while he would probably admonish such a notion,
he was a prominent and important figure in the history of this
region over the past century.
Leon passed away that winter and my friend too is gone. I don’t
know if the bench ever really belonged to Leon. The one there today
is an equally uncomfortable replacement. It is a perfect spot to
sit upright, hands resting atop your walking stick, and gaze across
the water. Come and sit down.
The cache is a gallon size lock & lock wrapped in camo duct
tape. It intitially contains several fun and useful trade items, a
log book and an unactivated set of TB dogs tags for the FTF.