Keeping alive a grand tradition at the Little River Lodge By Captain D ONCE UPON A TIME, Cutler was the epitome of classy. In the 1880s, it was a favored destination for rusticators‹rich people from Boston, Philadelphia, and New York City eager to experience a bit of the great outdoors. They came by steamship to enjoy amenities provided by the Hotel Cutler which, according to a brochure from that period, included "bracing air, laden with the fragrance of spruce and pine..." and "no catarrh or hay fever." Cutler no longer attracts too many effete, urban dudes from Boston, but it is still an important destination for many people. If anything, visitors these days are even more appreciative of Maine's great outdoors. They're apt to be heartier and capable of taking a more hands-on approach. Very quietly, Cutler has become one of Maine's most attractive small communities for certain sorts of visitors, a magnet for hikers, birders and, to some extent, sailors. Although Cutler is home port for two excursion boats‹those of Captains Martha Johnson and Andy Patterson‹and another company that does kayak tours, most of Cutler's 400 residents aren't really into worrying much about tourists. They're lobstermen, and make their living from the sea. This is the last good harbor before Eastport‹easy to enter and well-protected in almost all conditions. Cutler is the best place from which to sail for Machias Seal Island or Grand Manan, six miles offshore. Anybody familiar with Maine history can pretty much infer Cutler's role from a quick look at a map. Back in the days when people got around mostly by boat, Cutler's deepwater and well-protected harbor attracted sailors of all descriptions. There was even a short period‹1845 to 1855‹that Cutler recounts as its golden era of shipbuilding. During the 20th century, however, the automobile became king. As this occurred, Cutler's location‹deep down on a wide mostly undeveloped peninsula‹began working against her, at least when it came to attracting visitors. The road through Cutler leads eventually to Lubec, but motorists are advised to stick to Route One. Today, few travelers pass through Cutler; there are no close neighbors. People who come here got here on purpose. In some ways, the economy seems a bit depressed. The Village Store has closed, necessitating a half-hour trip to Lubec or Machias for necessities. Somewhat astonishingly, however, the Hotel Cutler lives on‹although today it's known as the Little River Lodge. In keeping with the times, it's a bed and breakfast, but, still, it's the same building minus a turret and the grand veranda. And the place is not just open, it's positively hopping, as it heads into its second summer with new and still enthusiastic ownership. Last year, Larry and Irene Dearborn, longtime lovers of the Maine coast, assumed ownership, putting the place in the very capable hands of their daughter Jerusha Murray. She and her brother Shane began amassing sweat equity at an astounding pace, pouring an enormous amount of work into restoring the 150-year-old hostelry. At this point, they've gotten it looking good, and Jerusha seems to relish providing tours of the place. "I just feel like it's meant to be filled with people," she says. "Much as we love it, we know we have to share it." There are five units, two with private baths. A third bath is being built downstairs. The lodge is a godsend to sailors; it's a short walk to the boat landing, and shower and laundry facilities are available. Visiting Canadians can use the phone to call customs in Lubec. Jerusha has a healthy sense of humor regarding her adopted town. "Things aren't usually this busy," she observed as the third car in twenty minutes pulled into the municipal office parking area across the road from the lodge. Turns out it was an election day, and considerably more traffic than usual was visiting the office where people were voting. Jerusha's jokes don't diminish the high regard she holds for her town. Talking with her, you quickly learn that in her eyes Cutler is a very special place indeed. "We have a really benevolent bunch of people in this town," she points out. Case in point: The land on which the library sits was donated by a resident. On a larger scale, much of the land in and around Cutler provides public access. Several organizations have worked with the State of Maine to acquire conservation easements that will prohibit certain types of development. As Jerusha notes, ninety-eight percent of the Maine Coast is in private hands and unaccessible to the general public. Cutler is second only to the Acadia National Park area in terms of accessible Maine coast. A large parcel is Maine Public Reserve land. The Quoddy Trail Association maintains the Bold Coast Trails, a six-mile walk across spectacular cliffs overlooking the coast of the Bay of Fundy. It is part of a 2,190-acre preserve managed by the Maine Department of Conservation . Maine Coast Heritage Trust spearheaded the establishment of the Western Head Preserve, a 247-acre parcel comprising Western and Great Heads, a beautiful headland protecting Cutler village.
	Keeping alive a grand tradition at the Little River Lodge By Captain D ONCE UPON A TIME, Cutler was the epitome of classy. In the 1880s, it was a favored destination for rusticators—rich people from Boston, Philadelphia, and New York City eager to experience a bit of the great outdoors. They came by steamship to enjoy amenities provided by the Hotel Cutler which, according to a brochure from that period, included "bracing air, laden with the fragrance of spruce and pine..." and "no catarrh or hay fever." Cutler no longer attracts too many effete, urban dudes from Boston, but it is still an important destination for many people. If anything, visitors these days are even more appreciative of Maine's great outdoors. They're apt to be heartier and capable of taking a more hands-on approach. Very quietly, Cutler has become one of Maine's most attractive small communities for certain sorts of visitors, a magnet for hikers, birders and, to some extent, sailors. Although Cutler is home port for two excursion boats—those of Captains Martha Johnson and Andy Patterson—and another company that does kayak tours, most of Cutler's 400 residents aren't really into worrying much about tourists. They're lobstermen, and make their living from the sea. This is the last good harbor before Eastport—easy to enter and well-protected in almost all conditions. Cutler is the best place from which to sail for Machias Seal Island or Grand Manan, six miles offshore. Anybody familiar with Maine history can pretty much infer Cutler's role from a quick look at a map. Back in the days when people got around mostly by boat, Cutler's deepwater and well-protected harbor attracted sailors of all descriptions. There was even a short period—1845 to 1855—that Cutler recounts as its golden era of shipbuilding. During the 20th century, however, the automobile became king. As this occurred, Cutler's location—deep down on a wide mostly undeveloped peninsula—began working against her, at least when it came to attracting visitors. The road through Cutler leads eventually to Lubec, but motorists are advised to stick to Route One. Today, few travelers pass through Cutler; there are no close neighbors. People who come here got here on purpose. In some ways, the economy seems a bit depressed. The Village Store has closed, necessitating a half-hour trip to Lubec or Machias for necessities. Somewhat astonishingly, however, the Hotel Cutler lives on—although today it's known as the Little River Lodge. In keeping with the times, it's a bed and breakfast, but, still, it's the same building minus a turret and the grand veranda. And the place is not just open, it's positively hopping, as it heads into its second summer with new and still enthusiastic ownership. Last year, Larry and Irene Dearborn, longtime lovers of the Maine coast, assumed ownership, putting the place in the very capable hands of their daughter Jerusha Murray. She and her brother Shane began amassing sweat equity at an astounding pace, pouring an enormous amount of work into restoring the 150-year-old hostelry. At this point, they've gotten it looking good, and Jerusha seems to relish providing tours of the place. "I just feel like it's meant to be filled with people," she says. "Much as we love it, we know we have to share it." There are five units, two with private baths. A third bath is being built downstairs. The lodge is a godsend to sailors; it's a short walk to the boat landing, and shower and laundry facilities are available. Visiting Canadians can use the phone to call customs in Lubec. Jerusha has a healthy sense of humor regarding her adopted town. "Things aren't usually this busy," she observed as the third car in twenty minutes pulled into the municipal office parking area across the road from the lodge. Turns out it was an election day, and considerably more traffic than usual was visiting the office where people were voting. Jerusha's jokes don't diminish the high regard she holds for her town. Talking with her, you quickly learn that in her eyes Cutler is a very special place indeed. "We have a really benevolent bunch of people in this town," she points out. Case in point: The land on which the library sits was donated by a resident. On a larger scale, much of the land in and around Cutler provides public access. Several organizations have worked with the State of Maine to acquire conservation easements that will prohibit certain types of development. As Jerusha notes, ninety-eight percent of the Maine Coast is in private hands and unaccessible to the general public. Cutler is second only to the Acadia National Park area in terms of accessible Maine coast. A large parcel is Maine Public Reserve land. The Quoddy Trail Association maintains the Bold Coast Trails, a six-mile walk across spectacular cliffs overlooking the coast of the Bay of Fundy. It is part of a 2,190-acre preserve managed by the Maine Department of Conservation . Maine Coast Heritage Trust spearheaded the establishment of the Western Head Preserve, a 247-acre parcel comprising Western and Great Heads, a beautiful headland protecting Cutler village.