White Water, High Culture It Must Be Blue Hill

Outside the coastal village of Blue Hill, Me., an old stone bridge

divides the Atlantic Ocean from the Bagaduce River. As a teenager, I used to step over the beam spanning the bridge's side, maneuver onto a narrow ledge, and dangle over the water 15 feet below. When I let go, I took a ride that's unforgettable. A roaring tidal rip running under the bridge sent me flying over haystacks--the big swells formed by the rapids--six feet high.

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