Let me tell you a story about a friend. Not my best friend. A good one, though.

Twine Mill is a little spit of a road that terminates down at the Mousam River where, back in the day, there once was a mill.

From top (near Village Tavern in West Kennebunk) to bottom, the hill measures .33 miles. Round trip is not quite seven-tenths of a mile and features 80 feet of elevation gain. By the seventh or 10th repetition, it might as well be Katahdin.

Twine Mill Road has a slight bend and overlooks – wait for it – Twine Mill Pond. The pond is a calm area between, here we go again, Twine Mill Dam and an ages-old, former railroad line that crosses the Mousam from high on a bluff.

At the bottom of the old railroad crossing are stone archways that allow the Mousam to wonder through.
I’ve wondered many times about the people who built those arches, when were they installed and just how structurally sound are they? That last part usually crosses my mind on those summer days I decide to veer off the road and hit the railroad trail to take in the unique view (in both directions) of the Mousam.

Years ago, when I was first starting this life- and inflammation-altering running gig, I began to lament the lack of terrain in the Kennebunk area. Elevation change activates different muscles. Really, it does. Hills are the running equivalent of “variety is the spice of life.”
A friend, Erich Fogg, mentioned that Kennebunk High School cross country sensation Abbey Leonardi, before she took her talents to the University of Oregon, used to do hill workouts on Twine Mill.
And the rest, as they say, is history.

I do not have any statistics, but I think it’s fair to say I’ve run between 500 to 700 miles on Twine Mill in the past eight years. And, I’m not alone. Come to find out, Kennebunk running legends Carol Weeks and Lawson Noyes told me they’ve been known to frequent Twine Mill.

The hill changes, like all of us, with the seasons.

I’ve seen turkeys roosting in the trees and watched in amazement as scores of them take off and fly to the other side of the river. Like lumbering military cargo planes, it’s a marvel to see something that bulky not only go airborne, but stay airborne.

The smells coming out of the Village Tavern kitchen fuel me vicariously on a regular basis.
An admission here: I’ve never eaten at the restaurant that took up shop at the former home of Cummings’ Market. However, I constantly greet staff members as they arrive for work. Julie Barros has been known to offer words of encouragement and good cheer on the Twine Mill Hill descent.

There are a couple dogs, aggressive at times, that occasionally burst from their yards to challenge those up-and-down pursuits. During one particular standoff, a car happened by and saw I was outflanked. The driver stopped and began tapping the horn. Finally, the dogs’ owner, hearing the ruckus, called from afar and off they went. Scooby Doo and Scooby Don’t.

In the winter, Twine Mill serves as a safe haven. The angle of the road, in relationship to the winter sun, allows the snow and ice to melt quickly. It’s also very quiet, with little to zero vehicle traffic, except for the few employees who work at the business down there. On the days when my regular routes are too dangerous and reach DEFCON 1 levels, Twine Mill Hill offers a bunker, so to speak.

At the top of the hill, there are a few houses whose backyards abut the road.
One spring, a man was out cleaning up his yard, wandered over to the fenceline and flagged me down.
He commented on the improved weather, the melting and the laps on the hill. He’d been watching me from the comfort of his home throughout the winter. I haven’t seen him in a few years, but his encouragement is remembered.

Months ago (maybe a year or two?), a pair of sneakers appeared high above the road. Someone tied the laces together and skillfully slung them onto a wire. A high wire.
They’ve been weathering in place. And whispering on every lap. Kinda like Shoeless Joe Jackson – in reverse. “Go the distance.”

Twine Mill is old. The cornerstone says something like 1931. The building has been repurposed a few times over the years. What hasn’t changed is the water, I suppose. It flows. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes not at all. After a rain or spring thaw, it grows quite raucous and can be heard from the top of the hill.

The hill turns a lush green in summer and on certain days, it gets a little tropical down there, hidden from the breeze. I expect to see the African Queen roll under the bridge. The colors of fall never seem to last long enough. One day, the old railroad bluff is bursting and reflected in the pond. Then it’s not.

Last Wednesday, bolting down the hill with AC/DC streaming from the jacket pocket, I spotted a figure meandering up the road. He was looking at a phone, oblivious to the “Shoot to Thrill” barreling ever closer.
The youngster flinched when the music pulled up alongside, smiled and said something like, “You shook me.”
Just another day on Twine Mill Hill.

Always a kick.
Call it Route .66.

Dan King is editor/page designer for the Kennebunk Post and South Portland-Cape Elizabeth Sentry. Running helps manage the inflammation issues associated with ankylosing spondylitis. Eminent AS  patients include Motley Crue guitarist Mick Mars, Master’s golf champion Ian Woosnam, Imagine Dragons singer Dan Reynolds and Russian chess grandmaster Vladimir Kramnik.

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