Photos courtesy Helen Scott Morris
As my husband and I came off of Mooselookmeguntic Lake after a three-night camping trip early last September, we had the pleasure of meeting Michael House, who has been the head caretaker of the Stephen Phillips Memorial Preserve in Oquossoc, Maine, for nearly a quarter of a century.
You have to witness the extreme beauty of the lake, part of the Rangeley Chain, firsthand to comprehend the magnitude of Stephen and Betty Phillips’s gift to the public through their vision of preserving 6,600 acres of land in this region. As House says, “There are places you can go on that lake and not see a single structure—you can experience true wilderness.”
And that is exactly what has drawn my husband, Brad, and me back to explore the preserve’s 4 miles of protected shoreline, including two larger islands—Students and Toothaker—and a host of smaller ones that each have their own magic.
Our first trip in 2022 was just an overnight. We were recent empty nesters and getting our feet wet with canoe camping, something we hadn’t done in 25 years. From the moment we arrived at Stephen Phillips I knew we had come upon something special. The winding dirt road into the preserve under a canopy made up by a rich tapestry of old-growth forest drew me in, and when I saw the lake peeking at us from the office where we checked in, it was all I could do to not run to the shore.
The view from the crushed gravel beach at the canoe launch is breathtaking. To the southwest you gaze at the gentle slopes of the Beemis Range; directly across from the landing, an eighth of a mile away, is Students Island, with 18 campsites and 3 miles of walking trails. To the north you look up the vast and promising expanse of the lake. All told there are 67 campsites available, with 28 on the mainland and 39 attainable by boat.
That first trip, our canoe loaded to the gills, we were fortunate to find the lake dead calm for our 4.5-mile paddle to the Chapel campsite. I had picked this western shore location so that we could see the full moon rise over Bald Mountain. That vision was delivered in spades.
As the moon rose, we listened to timeless calls of loons, and as far as other people were concerned, there was the distant blaze of another campfire but otherwise we were unto ourselves—the way I feel camping should be.
Mooselookmeguntic had a very different kind of visitor from the late 1800s until World War II. Rusticators flocked by train to stay in several inns flanking the shoreline, and there was even an inn on Students Island. The extraordinary fishing at the lake (think 8-pound trout) became a magnet for anglers, and there were over 200 fishing guides by the early 1900s, serving visitors from southern New England and beyond.
The inns are long gone, either burned down or razed, and a significant portion of the eastern shore is now built up with summer homes. But thanks to the Phillips’s vision to maintain public usage of the lake, a segment of the eastern shore, which is where you access the preserve, and most of the western shore remains undeveloped, and we, on that first trip, quietly, soaked up its beauty.
The following September we returned for a two-night trip, and this time set out for the 3.5-mile paddle (we took the long way) to campsite 1 on Toothaker Island. Our canoe was a bit lighter this trip and we made good time.
The southeastern shore of Toothaker has several summer homes but you could tell that life is kept simple at these places. Our campsite, meanwhile, was shadowed under a dark canopy of cedars and hemlocks but a beautiful rock of Devonian granite, coarse and crystalline, jutted out into the lake. As the campsite description promised, the views of sunrise and sunset were extraordinary! Coffee in the morning facing east, cocktails in the afternoon facing west.
It was 90 degrees on the lake for those few days—a welcomed respite after a long, wet, soggy summer elsewhere in Maine. We spent our time exploring the shoreline, pulling over to jump in the lake and cool down in the pristine water, and then paddling on our way. On our second day we discovered Ginger’s Beach, tucked around a point, facing due north. There was not a soul around. How could this be? Well, it was after Labor Day and the summer crowds had clearly gone, but I imagine even on a midsummer day, with the expanse at which the campsites are spread out (9 miles in-between the most northern and southern site) you could find solitude and absorb the quietude of the rich surroundings just the same.
I had noticed House, the caretaker, on those first trips to the preserve. As we would set out on to the lake, early to mid-afternoon, he would be coming ashore in his Lund, clearly having been taking care of the campsites. I wondered at the breadth of this job and the treasure of spending one’s life doing exactly this. So, when I eventually had the opportunity to speak with him—I made sure to get his number—there was much I was curious about.
First, how and why did the Phillips choose to preserve this land?
House put me in touch with Tim Ingraham, president of the preserve’s board and a cousin of the Phillips family. Ingraham said, “Due to Stevie and Betty’s paddling on Mooselookmeguntic, and recognizing that there was a shoreline that was unspoiled, they thought, this is the perfect place for camping, and, if we buy it now, we can save it for the future.”
The Phillips are descendants of David Pingree, a wealthy and successful Massachusetts merchant, who was born in 1795 and who died in 1863. He and his family used his wealth to buy large tracts of land in northern New England and his money was later used to form the Seven Islands Land Company in 1964. Seven Islands is currently the 10th largest landowner in the United States.
Stephen Phillips, as an only child, owned 20 percent of the Pingree property in Maine, and so through a process of land swapping with his relatives and making outright purchases, he and Betty pulled together the preserve.
Ingraham said, “One day Stevie was paddling by 417 acres on the eastern shore just off of Students Island, saw it was for sale and thought, ‘I’ll buy it now.’” This land became the access point to the lake and is where the headquarters of the preserve sits. He added, “Stevie and Betty were really fond of Maine and the woods—they felt it was a public treasure that they had the means to conserve and preserve and make it available for others to enjoy.”
House gets to enjoy it more than most, along with a crew of five who maintain the grounds and camp sites. He is on the lake from early May (if the ice is gone) into October. In the spring it takes about 400 hours to get the campsites up and running, and then there is the maintenance of the sites from Memorial Day until September 15th. He maintains all the outhouses and picnic tables, making repairs to ensure longevity.
House spoke openly about his connection to the astounding beauty of Mooselookmeguntic and the wildlife he has witnessed, including golden eagles, flocks of 50 loons, and even a cow moose that was just yards from him when he turned around while clearing a campsite with a leaf blower.
“Right there,” he said chuckling, “the leaf blower didn’t bother it a bit.” He said he’s seen signs of bears often, but they are never in sight, proving how elusive they are.
“I feel fortunate to be a steward and leave it better than I found it for the next generation, that means a lot to me,” House said. “I take a tremendous amount of pride in what I do.” As he talked, I could hear it in his voice.
“I so appreciate Steve and Betty and their foresight,” he continued, “If they hadn’t done this, the lake would have been shut off to the average person, like Kennebago is.”
I too will be forever grateful to the Phillips and their foresight. The three nights we spent at the Ramble campsite last September, on the western shore of Mooselookmeguntic, required a shorter canoe paddle then our previous trips—just 2.5 miles. The vista to the south from this site was indescribably beautiful. From our picnic table we had an uninterrupted view of the Bemis Range, and warming sunlight flooded our campsite in the morning. The Ramble site is at the edge of the preserve lands but there is nothing in Sandy Cove beyond it. Like House said, we could not see a single structure.
During our stay, we took two day trips; on one we paddled to Upper Dam, which was built in 1850, raising Mooselookmeguntic by 6 feet and separating it from Upper Richardson Lake. We beached our canoe and watched anglers cast their rods below the dam and took a short stroll over to Richardson to see the seemingly continued expanse of the endless wilderness beyond.
The following day we paddled across the western bay of the lake, east of Upper Dam, and had a picnic lunch and a swim at Ginger’s Beach. Moose tracks moseyed along the shore but no moose were to be seen. Once again, we were in perfect solitude. Our picnic, though, was cut short when a storm blew in out of the southwest. We hunkered down under our canoe while we listened to thunder rumble in over the gunwale. Eventually, we decided to paddle along the shoreline, west and away from the storm, before crossing the lake, adding at least a mile on our return. I should note, we did see a few bolts of lightning in the distance, and that kept us paddling quickly.
On the last day, as we left the lake we headed to the southwestern shore of Students Island to swim just one more time off the bold rocks and soak in the most beautiful water I’ve ever swum in. It was then that the wind stirred up, seemingly out of nowhere. Before we knew it, waves were banging our canoe against the rocks. We donned our life preservers, hopped into our boat and headed downwind.
On the lake, enormous glacial erratics hide beneath the water. We tried to hug the shoreline but also kept our distance to avoid a collision with one of these behemoths. Once in the lee of the island, we were set until we had to make the last pull to the take out. The wind was whipping white caps between Students Island and the mainland, and we just barely made it across and landed our canoe about 50 yards shy of where we had put in. Phew!
Rescues are not uncommon on this lake, we’ve learned, and we were happy to not have required one. It is also not uncommon for campers to get stuck at camp sites when the wind batters the shores, making it impossible for boats to set out.
House recalled rescuing a couple who were in their early 90s a few summers ago. He said, “They had way too much stuff in their canoe for their 1.5-mile paddle and it was wicked rough—they capsized at the shoreline of their campsite.” House said the couple still comes to camp on the mainland, but their daughter has put an end to their lake forages.
I hope that this is my husband and me when we are in our 90s—not the capsizing but the camping. The Stephen Phillips Preserve and Mooselookmeguntic are a place I envision visiting until I can’t. It is a place that has settled into my heart. Already, I am dreaming of September, of the flotillas of loons gathering mid-lake before they fly south, of cool water as I dive in, of campfire smoke and infinitesimal stars. Of solitude.
I thank Stephen and Betty Phillips for their preservation of this place; Tim Ingraham and the board of the Stephen Phillips Preserve for their continuity in maintaining this public access; and Michael House for being a steward with such a deep sense of commitment and pride in maintaining the Phillips’s vision of wilderness camping for generations to come.
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Helen Scott Morris is an aspiring essayist who lives in Freedom, Maine.
Stephen Phillips Memorial Preserve Wilderness Camping
The Stephen Phillips Memorial Preserve Wilderness Camping site is open to visitors from mid-May to mid-September. Campsite reservations can be made at stephenphillipswildernesscamping.com; visit the website for pricing.
The preserve’s website offers detailed descriptions and photos of each campsite, which makes it very helpful to choose a site of your liking.
This preserve offers true wilderness camping, meaning there is no electricity, no showers, and no RVs.
Canoes can be rented through the preserve at $30 for 24 hours or $25 a day for three consecutive days.
Six miles north of the preserve in nearby Oquossoc Village, visitors will find the Oquossoc Grocery and Deli (delicious sandwiches); The Portage Tap House (we have not eaten there); and Rivers Edge Sports, which has a great number of camping supplies. There is also the Outdoor Heritage Museum, showcasing the history of the Rangeley Lakes region. I have yet to go but a visit is on my bucket list! Oquossoc also has a small motel called Oquossoc Country Suites.
It is also worth taking the 2.3-mile round-trip hike up Bald Mountain. There is a trail just 2 miles south of Oquossoc that offers 365-degree views from a fire tower. Breathtaking!
