Alli's Final Blog Post

When an Appalachian Trail hiker stays in town for more than a couple nights, it’s colloquially referred to as “vortexing”. I set out on the trail determined not to vortex.

I showed up at Twin Ponds Lodge by accident. I was hiking. I needed a few extra days before new hiking boots were to be delivered. I traded some labor for time here at camp.

Technically, this is still my first visit. There’s something poetic about that.

What was supposed to be a pit stop turned into the adventure of a lifetime.

Somewhere between bar shifts, campfires, late-night golf cart rides, event chaos, and conversations that lasted longer than they were supposed to, this place became home. Not because of geography. Because of people. The last three years gave me memories that feel almost fictional.

Like being invited to someone’s house, fed a full steak dinner, and falling asleep on their couch ten minutes later because I felt safe enough to.

Or the time someone opened their RV fridge to put groceries away and discovered I had stored roughly 200 Jell-O shots inside without warning. Bold. Unethical. Community-minded.

Or living in a four-person backpacking tent and having a seasonal who barely knew my name quietly offer me a bigger tent and an air mattress — no questions, no conditions.

I once said, mostly to myself, “I wish there was a party light behind the bar,” and a human appeared with a ridiculously expensive light like some kind of lighting-fixture fairy godparent.

I still have the raccoon stuffed animal gifted to me at the end of my first season. It sits in a place of honor.

A man I had a crush on invited me to his cabin for a weekend and, in my delusional brain, I thought it was a date. It was not. He just needed help building an outhouse. Honestly? Still iconic.

A friend and I drove to a concert in Bangor with no tickets and stood outside on the train tracks listening anyway.

Someone kept supplying me purple wipes even though I refused to wear gloves while cleaning with them, and that kind of quiet accommodation is a form of love.

And yes, one of our members may or may not be the founder of Wendy’s. I’m still investigating.

Living here shaped me in ways I didn’t see happening in real time.

When I first arrived, I was a chaotic traveler trading labor for a little more time before the next mile marker. I didn’t plan to build anything. I didn’t plan to lead anything. I definitely didn’t plan to care this much.

But I did.

There were events that shouldn’t have worked but did. Nights that felt electric. Ideas that were ridiculous until they weren’t. Inside jokes that still make me laugh when they randomly pop in my mind.

There were also hard days. Growing days. Days where I learned boundaries. Days where I learned restraint. Days where I learned how to stand firm without burning the surrounding municipalities. And days when I lost my mind, my temper, or a combination of both.

I had two romantic relationships here. Two different experiences. Both imperfect. Both real. Both teaching me something about love, loyalty, and when to let go. Not every story is meant to last forever. That doesn’t make it meaningless. That is a lesson I’ll forever cherish

And then there’s Tommy, Roberto, and Evan. When I got here, I was essentially a traveler passing through. They could have let me stay that way.

Instead:

-> Roberto forced me to see my value when I was actively resisting it.

-> Tommy let me try big ideas and fail safely — which is a rare and generous form of leadership.

-> Evan showed me you can hold your values quietly and still hold them firmly.

They didn’t just employ me. They gave me space to grow into someone more stable than the version who first pulled in. They empowered, believed in, and inspired me. They cheered me on, held me accountable, and treated me like a partner in guiding the future of their business. They will always be my "Papas and Step-Mom" and there isn’t a chance in hell I don’t show up to visit them and all of you (without notice - as folks should expect).

This place will continue. It always does. Twin Ponds Lodge is basically a living organism. People rotate. Seasons change. Evolution is inevitable.

And with that evolution, some things will be at least a little different.

Not because I’m irreplaceable. No one is. But because every person who passes through alters the chemistry a little bit. I altered it, just as each of you have altered me.

Whether you loved me, tolerated me, debated me, rolled your eyes at me, or showed up for me in ways I will never fully be able to repay — you are part of the reason Maine became home. You are part of the reason I stayed. You are part of the reason leaving is this hard.

Three final things:

1) Whether you loved me, tolerated me, or celebrated the days I was off-site — thank you. Every one of you played a part in making Maine feel like home. You are permanently written into my story whether you asked to be or not.

2) “I think it’s important that you know that I will never change. But I’ll never stay the same either.” — Taylor Swift

3) Eric L., I still blame you for that one time I got fired two years ago, and I will absolutely hold that grudge forever. <3

With a lot of gratitude, a little chaos, and a genuinely full heart

& for the final time,

Ranger Alli