You know by now, all 12 of you who read about my ramblings (or is it rantings), that I’m not wild about mechanical explorations. My so-called adventures usually are the result of foot or paddle power.

It’s not that I’m opposed to machines. They can add another dimension to exploring the outdoors. My reservations are rooted in the peace and quiet associated with walking, pedaling or paddling. The added benefit of a more stealthy approach is being able to think about my destination for a while as I work to get there. You might say that getting there is the adventure. And once there, I tend to appreciate the place all the more.

But sometimes you just have to satisfy that need for speed, that rush you get just being in a rush. I guess I’ve never quite shaken my motorcycling past. And now I’ve been bitten by another mechanical bug, thanks to John Willard, owner of The Birches Resort in Rockwood.

Willard has been a pilot for ages, and he’ll admit that planes are his indulgence. “I don’t drive new cars,” he told me, “but I have two planes.” Give him an excuse to fly, any excuse, and he’ll be there with wings on.

And so he was Monday afternoon, right out there on Moosehead Lake in front of my cabin (actually one of his 15 cabins) waiting to take me and my daughter, Elizabeth, up for a bird’s-eye view of his end of the lake and his 11,000-acre preserve. His little white plane sat there on aluminum skis looking almost toy-like.

As my wife Kathy looked on a little apprehensively, and Cocoa, our dog, cocked her head inquisitively, we squeezed into the rear seat of Willard’s Piper PA 12 Super Cruiser, straddled the rear seat control stick and buckled our seat belt. I felt a little like I was the filling in a doughnut. Down came the door and Willard locked us into our cocoon. We each had noise-canceling headphones with microphones so we could talk to each other. A few churns on the starter and the 180-horse Lycoming engine burst to life. In seconds we left the crusty lake’s surface below.

This adventure began a few months ago when I got a call from a publicity agency in Massachusetts asking if I’d like to visit The Birches again. I had no idea that I’d be skimming across the frozen surface of Moosehead Lake in an airplane. I figured I’d be out cross-country skiing or tromping around on snowshoes. The last time I was a guest at The Birches I spent a night in one of the remote yurts.

At the time, my friend Karen Francoeur had been doing some cross-country ski instruction there and we all had fun exploring some of the 24 miles of groomed trails. Willard invited Francoeur and her son Ryan to come along with us on this trip and we all shared a cabin.

The Birches, which Willard owns, is in Tomhegan Township just north of Rockwood on the western shore of Moosehead Lake. It’s a four-season vacation destination that offers hiking, biking, cross country skiing, rafting, guided snowmobile trips, boating, flying, remote campsites, fly-in day trips via float plane at Brassua Lake – you name it, they’ll try to make it happen.

As we circled Mount Kineo, which is about a mile across the lake from The Birches, Willard asked me what I thought about my first ski-borne takeoff. I mustered a smile that faded a bit when he asked me how old I thought the Piper was. After a couple of conservative guesses I learned it was as old as me. It was a Baby Boomer! Half a century and then some! Immediately I began taking stock of all my aging and creaking joints. Where’s the parachute?

Unlike me, however, this baby had been totally rebuilt, from the ground up. Best of all there was a brand-new engine churning out a steady buzz. Whew! All right, with that info I could better concentrate on the majestic scenery. We circled Kineo at summit height, traced the shoreline northward to Northeast Carry and crossed westerly to Seboomook Lake. I should say the term lake is a relative term. Actually, there’s no water in the lake except for the original channel for West Branch of the Penobscot River. We circled Pittston Farm, then winged our way back over Brassua Lake and then to Moosehead Lake to land right out front of our cabin. When we flew over Brassua (also pretty dry) Willard pointed out a cove where he stores kayaks and canoes. In the summer he’ll fly you there by floatplane and you explore the lake for the day. Then he’ll come back and fly you back to The Birches.

When we touched down in front of our cabin, my wife and Francoeur were waiting. It didn’t take much arm-twisting to get them aboard for their own air tour.

What I’ve decided about flying (I don’t do much of it) is that it is a great way to scout out sites for future hikes and adventures. If I’d been a little quicker on the draw, I’d have entered a few waypoints on my GPS as we flew over places that begged to be explored. A map is a fine tool for planning, but there’s no better way to get the lay of the land than seeing it from the air. I’m sold.

Tuesday morning Francoeur and I joined Willard for a quick flight to Jackman to get fuel for the plane. After gassing up, we decided to fly to Northeast Carry and then scout out snowmobile access to Lobster Lake. I had it in my mind that it would be fun to get in there if possible and revisit a campsite I’d used more than 25 years ago.

We saw snowmobile tracks on the lake and were able to locate a trail that we would use later in the day. One part of the menu of outdoor adventures offered at The Birches is custom-guided snowmobile trips with Registered Maine Guides. Rent a snowmobile for $150-$175 per day, hire a guide for $200 and you’re off in a cloud of snow to the destination of your choice.

After our morning air tour we joined Willard and his son Joel at the snowmobile barn in Rockwood and got outfitted. Then the seven of us were off, bound for Northeast Carry. About halfway up, at Big Duck Cove, I let my daughter take over controls of the four-stroke Arctic Cat we were using. I’m glad the top speed is no more than 60 mph, although Elizabeth would have been content at 90, I think. It didn’t seem long before Raymond’s Store came into view and we putted to a stop for lunch.

Afterward we set out to find Lobster Lake, which is about 22 miles by trail from The Birches. There was one ice-fishing party on the lake, but it seemed we had the place to ourselves. Elizabeth did her best to see if we could fly, while Ryan and Joel sought out anything resembling a ski jump to get some airtime.

Back on Moosehead Lake the flat surface gave everyone a chance to blow the carbon out of their machines, while I managed a death grip on the rear seat handles.

It seemed like the day’s 60 miles flew by. The surprise was having to buy only $4 worth of gas for all that fun. The two-stoke machines had sucked down twice as much fuel. Even better, I didn’t smell like an oil can! When I make my first million, I’ll put one of these four-strokes on my wish list (after the airplane).

For more information on The Birches call 1-800-825 WILD or check out the Web site at www.birches.com.

Jeff Strout’s column is published on Saturdays. He can be reached at 990-8202 or by e-mail at jstrout@bangordailynews.net.