As a native Mainer, I’m embarrassed to admit that it took me 20 years to make my first pilgrimage to Washington County. What can I say? Some of us are just late bloomers. I know, many of you are already wondering what could possibly make Washington County a “must see” travel destination.

Well, that reminds me of the fellow who, upon being asked how the new Rolls Royce parked in his driveway could possibly be worth a half million dollars, replied, “If you have to ask you probably wouldn’t understand.”

Not that I’m comparing Washington Count (WaCo in local parlance) to an exclusive, luxury car (although there are some interesting similarities we’ll consider in a moment).

But, to thousands of geographically challenged individuals (including a surprisingly high percentage of Mainers and plenty of “summer folks” who’d argue that the village of Yarmouth is located in Down East, Maine) a visit to the Sunrise County would be a real eye-opener.

I crossed the Washington County line for the very first time one hot August afternoon in 1970, having recently embarked upon one of those once in a lifetime, all-American road trips, chronicled by such writers as Jack Kerouac and William Least Heat Moon.

Although my stated destination was California, the plan was to begin by meandering the entire serpentine length of coastal Route 1 all the way to the U.S.-Canada border crossing at Calais/St. Stephen. The fact that I never made it to within a thousand miles of California on that particular trip is, as they say, a story for another day.

My point is simply this: In the course of what turned out to be a six-month road trip encompassing some 15 U.S. states and several thousand miles of highway, the one place, the only place I felt absolutely compelled to visit again was Washington County. And, yeah, I suppose that gets us back to a comparison with that exotic Rolls Royce I mentioned a moment ago.

For one thing, Washington County easily qualifies as one of the most visually and viscerally spectacular environments on the entire planet. Its breathtaking beauty has a take-no-prisoners quality, which soon has you slamming on the brakes and staring in stunned amazement at vistas simultaneously powerful, compelling and totally unattainable.  

There’s just something pretty overwhelming about a place where the landscape seems to have a voice of its own. “Go ahead,” it says, “look all you want. You’ll never take it all in. There’s too much to see. It’s too rich, too intense, too beautiful. The only way you’ll ever absorb even a fraction of this grandeur is to keep coming back again and again and again.”

It is precisely at this point in the conversation when you’re apt to start to hear a new and somewhat different voice chiming in, “On the other hand,” this new voice suggests helpfully, ”you could always buy a house here!”

Ah, there it is, the siren song of Washington County: Come, look, stay, maybe buy a house here. Never mind that that this most gorgeous of all places also happens to be among the most economically depressed in the nation. “Come on in. The water’s fine.”

Please, please don’t misunderstand me. My wife and I have owned a home in Washington County for over a decade and we love living in WaCo. I’m not suggesting that you avoid the place. I am saying that Washington County is neither trendy nor gentrified. It isn’t groovy, hip or the next big “happening place,” nor is it likely to be anytime soon.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but Washington County does not suffer fools gladly. Before you waltz in here thinking you’re going to fix what’s “wrong” with the place, you’d do well to consider whether you even have the foggiest notion of what’s “right” with it.

Despite, or more likely as a result of, our longstanding economic challenges, you’re going to find a lot more “community” in the average WaCo community than you’re probably used to. I’m pretty sure we have more fundraising events and bean suppers per capita than any other county in Maine.

So, if you’re looking to make Washington County your latest “project,” you’d best look elsewhere. That goes double if you’re pitching some “new” get-rich-quick scheme. We’ve heard ‘em all twice.

If, on the other hand, your philosophy runs along the lines of a Washington County neighbor of mine, who once remarked that she considered WaCo “God’s country, where the owner is also a year-round resident,” chances are you’ll fit right in.