September 22 Rainbow
Campsite Me 2163 Miles
I woke up in my sleeping bag at daybreak near the lake shore, and reached for power bars and apricots and watched the sun hit the eastern shore and slowly turn the dark trees into soft shades of gold, then red, and then back to green.
This was a nice site.
And last night, after the sunset, while we were bedding down, I heard the long plaintive sound of a loon, a sound like the howl of a wolf except cleaner and crisper over water. "Where are.....you?"
Then I heard another long wail in response. "Over here....!"
A loon looks like a black duck/goose, but unlike a duck, it cannot walk on land so I wandered down by the shore and looked for the creature on the lake but saw nothing.
This morning Flyer, Cooper's acquaintance, said he was going to do 29 miles into Abol Bridge, the end of the 100 Mile Wilderness, after doing 27 miles yesterday. Wow. More power to him. But I know that he can do it, because he is young, athletic and positive.
Cooper and I, on the other hand, were shooting for another lakeside retreat, Rainbow Lake Campsite, 14 miles away.
But before he left Flyer recommended that I listen to upbeat music to get those long miles in and I took that to heart. I put on some Brazilian Salsa and had a nice time in Rio while going through the woods.
Heading out, I really wasn't anxious to hear more about Cooper's love problems but I know she wanted to get it out. I have felt lonely out here too.
She said that her guy texted her a week ago and he said that he wanted to just be friends. Right at the end of her hike. So she asked him to return the key to her house (her house is near where he works so she let him stay there, she says, and then he responds by saying "so that's way it's gonna be, huh?"
Sounds like he is just using you, I say.
And I've been nice to him, she says, helping him to manage his diabetes because he is so overweight and continues to drink so many soft drinks.
So what's he look like, I ask politely, wondering about his weight.
Well, he's not good-looking really. And he is so self-centered. I asked for a goodbye card or some flowers before I left and he asked me, Where do I find those? I don't know where to find those.
He wants to be friends. We were never even lovers, she says.
Well, he's a guy. He probably just wanted to get laid, I say wisely.
Well, he wasn't that good, she said, and he has a very small appendage.
Ok. I really wanted to end this and move on with the hike. So, I said, Well, let's see: he is selfish, sick, ugly, fat, and has a small willie, and doesn't know where to get a greeting card. So what am I missing here?
You know, I say, (where do I get this shit?) relationships are a team sport and he doesn't seem to want to return the ball to you. So find somebody who will. There are millions of guys out there who would like your direct no-nonsense style. I'm not one of them but what the hey.
Move on, I said, this guy is an ex starting right now.
Hey when are we supposed to hit the Rainbow Ledges? Can you check Guthook?
We climbed about 500 feet to the top of Rainbow Mountain and arriving at the Rainbow Ledges we met a photographer for the Maine AT magazine. Looking out into the northern mountain range, he said that this was his favorite spot in Maine. He reminded us that northern Maine is wild and unknown territory.
In fact, he said, ninety percent of the Maine population live in the lower half of the state, mostly in the cities, such as Bangor and Portland. In the north half, there are areas with no names and they are just called P3 and P10.
From the ledges we could see our Oz: Kahtadin, sitting prettily in the distance across the lake.
Smiling, I said joyfully to the mountain, I'm coming for you, you big bastard.
Don't be too boastful, the photographer said softly, it is a very difficult climb.
We walked a few miles toward a shelter and Cooper hooked up with another female hiker. I was ok with that, wanting some alone time, and I was beginning to struggle with tiredness around 2PM.
When I got to the shelter, Cooper was just leaving and I sat down for half an hour, wrote my name in the shelter journal along with my signature drawing of a Crocodile, and ate as much food as I dared, my care package of figs and nuts, saving half a jar of peanut butter and a tortilla for dinner. I would have a light pack and no food by the time I rolled into Abol Bridge, where there was a restaurant and beer.
I felt better after eating and a mile later enjoyed talking to a local fisherman at the lake's edge. As in most of the United States, he said, all of the average Joe's work here in Maine has been shipped overseas, the logging and the mills are a relic of the past.
But the fishing is good, he smiled.
Coming into camp I thought about my journey and all the people I have met and the places I had seen and I started feeling a little sad. It will all be gone and I will be back doing what? Work, movies, restaurants, coffee shops, bars, gyms, daily routines. It sounded good and it also sounded...what?...inconsequential?
But it didn't have to be. If the trail has taught me anything, it's that you can go over any mountain, under any conditions, if you do it one step at a time. All I needed to do when I got home is to find my mountain and start walking.
In these thoughts, I put on some Salsa music and continued on.
When I arrived, the tent sites were thirty or so yards up from the lake shore.
There he is, Cooper said, putting up her tent, I thought you may have stayed at the shelter for the night.
Just stopped for some food and rest, I said.
There were a lot of hikers at this camp. Two of them were RV and Five Year Plan. What happened to Grinder I asked RV. Grinder was RV's Don Quixote. RV said that Grinder left Maine around Rangeley and returned to Florida to take care of his wife during Hurricane Irma. Now he is walking with Five Year Plan who I hadn't seen since Killington. Great to see them.
For most hikers here, this is the last camp before Abol Bridge and the 8 miles to the base of Katahdin and then the five mile up the mountain to Baxter Peak. It was Friday night and many planned on a Sunday or a Monday ascent.
Cooper and I had a little dinner together sitting on a log and she thanked me for listening to her on the trail.
I found a flat spot nearby to lay down my bag and I cowboyed out under a clear star-filled night that peeked in on me through the trees.
September 23 Abol Bridge, Me 2174 Miles
I woke up thinking about the day: I would arrive at the Abol bridge today, Saturday afternoon, and my wife would be coming in Saturday night. I could meet her that night. Surprise her in fact.
Then we or I would have Sunday to walk the 8 miles to the base of Katahdin and then hike up Katahdin on Monday, leaving for Nashville on Tuesday the 26th. Perfect.
It was a nice moderate eleven mile walk to Abol Bridge. Many hikers had left camp early: Cooper because I was slow rising and she was cold and needed to move. Armadillo left early too because she had visions of a hamburger in her head.
RV and Five Year Plan left at sunrise because older guys like we wake up early.
I wanted to enjoy the trail and my hike. I had had enough racing stress.
Along the way I met up with Trapper John and we walked together talking about what he wanted to do when he got back home. He majored in Biology and he liked to work on cars and go hiking. I suggested he get a job as a hiking guide or work in an outdoor store for awhile until he figured out what he wanted to do. Why not go into Forestry?
I thought too about what I would do when I got back to the land of Responsibility and Work. I had gone through most of my savings. I did get a Personal Training certificate online before I left, being a former teacher I thought I could work at the YMCA or another such place perhaps. But I had nothing lined up; so what's new about that? I figured I'd figure it out when I got there, as I thought in my usual Pooh way of thinking about things. I'll find a way through the thicket.
When I got to Abol Bridge road, I caught up with Trapper John and Mile Back and Mile Back's parents and we walked across the small bridge getting a nice view of Katahdin beyond the lake. Then we went to the grocery/diner and I sat down with them and ate a sandwich and pie and they asked me if I needed a ride into Mellinocket. There was no service at the restaurant so I figured I could meet Terrie at the Inn before she arrived. On the way, I texted her again and she told me she had rented a house instead and I was kindly driven to that address where surprise, surprise, my wife Terrie was there to greet me.
It was a nice traditional house with a screened in porch and old forties style wallpaper. The top had been converted into a bunk loft.
But after settling in, and having a quick snack, my heart started racing in overtime. I was having another arrhythmic attack. I couldn't believe it was happening again. I couldn't get my heart to slow down and relax. I told Terrie that it was because she was there and I was so glad to see her.
It won't be so funny when I have to take you to the ER, she said. Good point, thought I.
Being a nurse, Terrie tried all her nursing skills and hydration techniques on me but to no avail. It was still beating faster than normal after 45 minutes. So I finally said let's go for dinner and maybe my heart will like that. I do know that my stomach will. I'm hungry.
When we got to a restaurant Terrie googled some info and suggested I splash cold water on my face. I took my ice water glass to the restroom and splashed it over my face and neck and lo and behold my heart went back to normal.
PSVT, paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia, is what my wife believes my problem is: the electrical circuit in my heart is short-circuiting and by stimulating my vagus nerve, splashing my face, I shocked it back to its normal beat. I will have to research this PSVT when I get home. But a brief look at the medical website revealed that the condition is usually not life threatening. But it can't be a good thing, I thought, it stresses the heart.
It seems to me the only common thread is over-tiredness and over-exercise or over-stimulation at the same time. I need more sleep perhaps. I also noted that WebMD says over the counter medications like Benadryl are not advised.
Yep. I gotta do some research when I get back. Luucy you got some 'esplaining to do.
September 24 Millinocket ME 2174 Miles
Well, I woke up this morning to a nice French toast breakfast and Terrie wanted to walk with me the ten miles from Abol Bridge to the foot of Katahdin at the Katahdin Campsite.
I figured we could easily get a ride back from the Campsite, so we dropped the car off at Abol Bridge and began hiking. This hike took us along the border of Baxter State Park, along Nesowadnehunk Stream. It was a nice clear day and warm, in the eighties, and the path was nice for me, a little rough for her, but all-in-all enjoyable.
Then, about seven miles in, we stopped at a spot where the Stream tumbled over some rock creating a little pool and a rock slide.
There were a number of fellow thru-hikers there and I figured it was a good time to take a final swim. So I took off my shirt and dove into the pond. It was nice and cold and highly stimulating. It felt great in other words.
Then I decided to go down the rock slide and slid down, hitting a bump that jarred my butt awkwardly and I fell into the water below.
Then the other young hikers decided to do it too and even Terrie got in the act. We all had a good laugh as ass met stone on the way down. What makes that so funny? I don't know. It's like an acorn dropping on somebody's head. It's funny.
After a while, we promised each other to stay in touch after the hike, and Terrie and I walked on, getting to the Katahdin Stream Campground around four. We walked out to the dirt road and I, confident that we would get a ride, having done this for a while, stuck my thumb out and we had a ride in less than ten minutes. The nice folks drove us back to Abol Bridge and our car.
That night we had dinner at the only place open on a Sunday night and ate a large pizza between us. Tomorrow was the big day and after closing out the restaurant we headed back to the house.
I had a little trouble sleeping that night.
September 25 Katahdin Me 2189.8 Miles
I woke up early and fixed (we say fixed in the South) my wife breakfast in bed. Of course she got up and asked me what I was doing and I had to send her back to bed. It was scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, fruit and coffee and juice. She actually stayed put for it and enjoyed the pampering I believe.
But that meant that we got a late start, arriving at the bottom of Katahdin, at Katahdin Stream Campsite, around 9:30. That was not good because the park rangers ask that you do not leave for Baxter Peak, the AT terminus, after 10AM. Otherwise you might come back in the dark. A flashlight was required of all hikers as a safety precaution.
There were a few thru-hikers at a picnic table waiting to go up when Terrie and I arrived. But I knew they were young and strong and would be up and back early in the afternoon. But Terrie wanted to hike with me and I knew she would slow things down a bit. That concerned me.
Katahdin has two main peaks at the top, Baxter Peak and Pamola Peak and the two peaks are intersected by a path called the Knife's Edge, a trail where for almost half a mile it is three feet across and a deadly drop on both sides. Over 20 people since the 1960's have died on this trail.
But I wasn't going to Pamola Peak. The AT officially terminates at Baxter Peak and that was good enough for me.
I was told that it usually takes 8 to 10 hours to do a round trip up to Baxter Peak.
Leaving at 10AM I figured we could be back at 6PM. But if it were to be a slow slog, then we could be back at 8PM. That would be dark. The sun sets at 7PM now. And that would be dangerous climbing down in the dark, especially for my wife.
But she did say she would turn around if things got rough. And after 2.5 miles, I was booking ahead and waiting for her to catch up. Finally, around 11: 30, as we sat down for a snack, she said that her legs were shaking. At the same time a couple of ladies, day hikers were coming down and reported that the boulders up the trail were almost impossible to climb so they had turned back.
At this point my wife said that she was going back to the Campsite and asked the ladies if she could join them. I said I thought it was good idea and gave her a kiss goodbye. Then I took off my shirt, it was getting warm, and began to climb.
A good thing she turned back too. Almost all the trails on the mountain are classified as very strenuous, the highest clarification that the Park gives. This one, the Hunt Trail/AT was no exception. At 5.2 miles it is the longest trail in terms of time and distance. Terrie turned back just as we passed tree line where the Hunt turned into a pile of giant granite bounders. I had to use metal handlebars secured into the rock to climb up the boulders and to reach the relatively flat Gateway ridge. I was really glad Terrie had turned back as she would have been physically taxed to the limit.
Oh but the views were beautiful, magnificent. I wish she could have seen them. I stopped for fifteen minutes to catch my breath, enjoy the mountain range and eat a snack before heading on. But there were thru-hikers coming down now and a few mentioned that I was getting a late start. I had left at 9:30AM and they had left between 6 and 8 AM.
I figured I would have to stay moving and began to book it up the boulders and around 12:30PM I had made it to the ridge that would take me up to the Tableland/Gateway. The ridge was a tumble of rocks and sand that climbed for a mile to The Gateway. I passed Trapper John and Mile Back and Mile Back's father coming back down the ridge.
Mile Back's father said that there may not be any hikers left on Baxter Peak by the time I got there.
That would be a drag, I thought, I'll have nobody to take my finishing picture with the Katahdin/Baxter Peak sign. I gotta hurry.
It took me longer than expected to go one mile along that ridge. There was a lot of rock climbing, but thankfully fairly level climbing. I finally clambered up to the Tableland around 1:30.
I was surprised at what I saw when I reached the top. I was expecting another straight climb up to the top. But it was miles of flat land.
That's why they called it The Tableland. It looks like a flat desert of algaed boulders and rusty foliage for a few miles around and I could see the rounded hills of Baxter and Pamola in the distance. At this point I began to walk the 1.6 miles across The Tableland to reach Baxter Peak.
I hit Thoreau Spring, a crawling little spring, and the Abol Trail, another trail that leads to Baxter around 1:45. The spring is named after the great naturalist and iconoclast, Henry David Thoreau, who had climbed Katahdin in the 1840's.
I also remembered that in the nineteenth century, Fredrick Church, the great wilderness painter, painted a stunning picture of Katahdin that had recently sold for over 3 million dollars.
But I didn't think about the past for long. At this point, with less than a mile to go, I was very excited about hitting Baxter Peak and practically ran my way over the rocks toward the hill. At the bottom of the hill I looked up and saw the famous sawhorse shape of the Katahdin sign at the top the hill.
I was grinning and running up the hill to the Katahdin sign and when I finally got to the stand with the sign saying " KATAHDIN Baxter Peak Elevation 5267 feet" I started laughing and blubbering "Oh my God! I can't believe this. Wow. I hike all the way from Georgia, all the way and...and here I am, and here is this naked woman, and a pretty one too. This is amazing."
"You hiked all the way from Georgia?" the naked woman in her blue tennis shoes asked.
"Yeah, I sure did. And it's amazing. I can't believe it. Thank you naked girl."
Naked Girl had a clothed friend with her but I gave my iPhone to Naked Girl and asked her to take a few photos of myself standing behind the large sawhorse, in front of the KATAHDIN sign, arms outspread, the traditional pose that I had seen in countless AT pictures. I had arrived with my shirt off and wanted that honest picture.
Then I asked the woman for some pictures with my shirt on which is the way I always thought it would be like because I figured it would be freezing up here when I arrived in late September.
And did I get a picture of myself with my clothes off? What do you think?
It was beautiful at the top with spectacular mountain ridge views stretching out into the distance like the boney backs of a herd of Brontosaurus. And it did feel ancient and primeval standing up there where an island arc had rammed into North America some 400 million years ago. I could see where many millions of years later the glaciers had dug large gaps into the sides of the mountain, leaving the lakes below, and me standing on its granite core.
I had landed at Baxter Peak around 2:15 and though it was lovely I did have promises to keep. I needed to head back down the mountain. I calculated 5.5 hours to get to the Campsite and at that pace, I'd arrive at 8:30 PM.
No that is not the way this will end I thought to myself. I was not going over enormous granite boulders in the dark. And there was no cell service to let anybody know of my whereabouts.
As I descended down the trail I turned back to take a look at Baxter Peak. In the distance I saw the two girls racing madly along the Knife's Edge trail, naked and free, up towards Pamola Peak.
This was a nice site.
And last night, after the sunset, while we were bedding down, I heard the long plaintive sound of a loon, a sound like the howl of a wolf except cleaner and crisper over water. "Where are.....you?"
Then I heard another long wail in response. "Over here....!"
A loon looks like a black duck/goose, but unlike a duck, it cannot walk on land so I wandered down by the shore and looked for the creature on the lake but saw nothing.
This morning Flyer, Cooper's acquaintance, said he was going to do 29 miles into Abol Bridge, the end of the 100 Mile Wilderness, after doing 27 miles yesterday. Wow. More power to him. But I know that he can do it, because he is young, athletic and positive.
Cooper and I, on the other hand, were shooting for another lakeside retreat, Rainbow Lake Campsite, 14 miles away.
But before he left Flyer recommended that I listen to upbeat music to get those long miles in and I took that to heart. I put on some Brazilian Salsa and had a nice time in Rio while going through the woods.
Heading out, I really wasn't anxious to hear more about Cooper's love problems but I know she wanted to get it out. I have felt lonely out here too.
She said that her guy texted her a week ago and he said that he wanted to just be friends. Right at the end of her hike. So she asked him to return the key to her house (her house is near where he works so she let him stay there, she says, and then he responds by saying "so that's way it's gonna be, huh?"
Sounds like he is just using you, I say.
And I've been nice to him, she says, helping him to manage his diabetes because he is so overweight and continues to drink so many soft drinks.
So what's he look like, I ask politely, wondering about his weight.
Well, he's not good-looking really. And he is so self-centered. I asked for a goodbye card or some flowers before I left and he asked me, Where do I find those? I don't know where to find those.
He wants to be friends. We were never even lovers, she says.
Well, he's a guy. He probably just wanted to get laid, I say wisely.
Well, he wasn't that good, she said, and he has a very small appendage.
Ok. I really wanted to end this and move on with the hike. So, I said, Well, let's see: he is selfish, sick, ugly, fat, and has a small willie, and doesn't know where to get a greeting card. So what am I missing here?
You know, I say, (where do I get this shit?) relationships are a team sport and he doesn't seem to want to return the ball to you. So find somebody who will. There are millions of guys out there who would like your direct no-nonsense style. I'm not one of them but what the hey.
Move on, I said, this guy is an ex starting right now.
Hey when are we supposed to hit the Rainbow Ledges? Can you check Guthook?
We climbed about 500 feet to the top of Rainbow Mountain and arriving at the Rainbow Ledges we met a photographer for the Maine AT magazine. Looking out into the northern mountain range, he said that this was his favorite spot in Maine. He reminded us that northern Maine is wild and unknown territory.
In fact, he said, ninety percent of the Maine population live in the lower half of the state, mostly in the cities, such as Bangor and Portland. In the north half, there are areas with no names and they are just called P3 and P10.
From the ledges we could see our Oz: Kahtadin, sitting prettily in the distance across the lake.
Smiling, I said joyfully to the mountain, I'm coming for you, you big bastard.
Don't be too boastful, the photographer said softly, it is a very difficult climb.
We walked a few miles toward a shelter and Cooper hooked up with another female hiker. I was ok with that, wanting some alone time, and I was beginning to struggle with tiredness around 2PM.
When I got to the shelter, Cooper was just leaving and I sat down for half an hour, wrote my name in the shelter journal along with my signature drawing of a Crocodile, and ate as much food as I dared, my care package of figs and nuts, saving half a jar of peanut butter and a tortilla for dinner. I would have a light pack and no food by the time I rolled into Abol Bridge, where there was a restaurant and beer.
I felt better after eating and a mile later enjoyed talking to a local fisherman at the lake's edge. As in most of the United States, he said, all of the average Joe's work here in Maine has been shipped overseas, the logging and the mills are a relic of the past.
But the fishing is good, he smiled.
Coming into camp I thought about my journey and all the people I have met and the places I had seen and I started feeling a little sad. It will all be gone and I will be back doing what? Work, movies, restaurants, coffee shops, bars, gyms, daily routines. It sounded good and it also sounded...what?...inconsequential?
But it didn't have to be. If the trail has taught me anything, it's that you can go over any mountain, under any conditions, if you do it one step at a time. All I needed to do when I got home is to find my mountain and start walking.
In these thoughts, I put on some Salsa music and continued on.
When I arrived, the tent sites were thirty or so yards up from the lake shore.
There he is, Cooper said, putting up her tent, I thought you may have stayed at the shelter for the night.
Just stopped for some food and rest, I said.
There were a lot of hikers at this camp. Two of them were RV and Five Year Plan. What happened to Grinder I asked RV. Grinder was RV's Don Quixote. RV said that Grinder left Maine around Rangeley and returned to Florida to take care of his wife during Hurricane Irma. Now he is walking with Five Year Plan who I hadn't seen since Killington. Great to see them.
For most hikers here, this is the last camp before Abol Bridge and the 8 miles to the base of Katahdin and then the five mile up the mountain to Baxter Peak. It was Friday night and many planned on a Sunday or a Monday ascent.
Cooper and I had a little dinner together sitting on a log and she thanked me for listening to her on the trail.
I found a flat spot nearby to lay down my bag and I cowboyed out under a clear star-filled night that peeked in on me through the trees.
September 23 Abol Bridge, Me 2174 Miles
I woke up thinking about the day: I would arrive at the Abol bridge today, Saturday afternoon, and my wife would be coming in Saturday night. I could meet her that night. Surprise her in fact.
Then we or I would have Sunday to walk the 8 miles to the base of Katahdin and then hike up Katahdin on Monday, leaving for Nashville on Tuesday the 26th. Perfect.
It was a nice moderate eleven mile walk to Abol Bridge. Many hikers had left camp early: Cooper because I was slow rising and she was cold and needed to move. Armadillo left early too because she had visions of a hamburger in her head.
RV and Five Year Plan left at sunrise because older guys like we wake up early.
I wanted to enjoy the trail and my hike. I had had enough racing stress.
Along the way I met up with Trapper John and we walked together talking about what he wanted to do when he got back home. He majored in Biology and he liked to work on cars and go hiking. I suggested he get a job as a hiking guide or work in an outdoor store for awhile until he figured out what he wanted to do. Why not go into Forestry?
I thought too about what I would do when I got back to the land of Responsibility and Work. I had gone through most of my savings. I did get a Personal Training certificate online before I left, being a former teacher I thought I could work at the YMCA or another such place perhaps. But I had nothing lined up; so what's new about that? I figured I'd figure it out when I got there, as I thought in my usual Pooh way of thinking about things. I'll find a way through the thicket.
When I got to Abol Bridge road, I caught up with Trapper John and Mile Back and Mile Back's parents and we walked across the small bridge getting a nice view of Katahdin beyond the lake. Then we went to the grocery/diner and I sat down with them and ate a sandwich and pie and they asked me if I needed a ride into Mellinocket. There was no service at the restaurant so I figured I could meet Terrie at the Inn before she arrived. On the way, I texted her again and she told me she had rented a house instead and I was kindly driven to that address where surprise, surprise, my wife Terrie was there to greet me.
It was a nice traditional house with a screened in porch and old forties style wallpaper. The top had been converted into a bunk loft.
But after settling in, and having a quick snack, my heart started racing in overtime. I was having another arrhythmic attack. I couldn't believe it was happening again. I couldn't get my heart to slow down and relax. I told Terrie that it was because she was there and I was so glad to see her.
It won't be so funny when I have to take you to the ER, she said. Good point, thought I.
Being a nurse, Terrie tried all her nursing skills and hydration techniques on me but to no avail. It was still beating faster than normal after 45 minutes. So I finally said let's go for dinner and maybe my heart will like that. I do know that my stomach will. I'm hungry.
When we got to a restaurant Terrie googled some info and suggested I splash cold water on my face. I took my ice water glass to the restroom and splashed it over my face and neck and lo and behold my heart went back to normal.
PSVT, paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia, is what my wife believes my problem is: the electrical circuit in my heart is short-circuiting and by stimulating my vagus nerve, splashing my face, I shocked it back to its normal beat. I will have to research this PSVT when I get home. But a brief look at the medical website revealed that the condition is usually not life threatening. But it can't be a good thing, I thought, it stresses the heart.
It seems to me the only common thread is over-tiredness and over-exercise or over-stimulation at the same time. I need more sleep perhaps. I also noted that WebMD says over the counter medications like Benadryl are not advised.
Yep. I gotta do some research when I get back. Luucy you got some 'esplaining to do.
Well, I woke up this morning to a nice French toast breakfast and Terrie wanted to walk with me the ten miles from Abol Bridge to the foot of Katahdin at the Katahdin Campsite.
I figured we could easily get a ride back from the Campsite, so we dropped the car off at Abol Bridge and began hiking. This hike took us along the border of Baxter State Park, along Nesowadnehunk Stream. It was a nice clear day and warm, in the eighties, and the path was nice for me, a little rough for her, but all-in-all enjoyable.
Then, about seven miles in, we stopped at a spot where the Stream tumbled over some rock creating a little pool and a rock slide.
There were a number of fellow thru-hikers there and I figured it was a good time to take a final swim. So I took off my shirt and dove into the pond. It was nice and cold and highly stimulating. It felt great in other words.
Then I decided to go down the rock slide and slid down, hitting a bump that jarred my butt awkwardly and I fell into the water below.
Then the other young hikers decided to do it too and even Terrie got in the act. We all had a good laugh as ass met stone on the way down. What makes that so funny? I don't know. It's like an acorn dropping on somebody's head. It's funny.
After a while, we promised each other to stay in touch after the hike, and Terrie and I walked on, getting to the Katahdin Stream Campground around four. We walked out to the dirt road and I, confident that we would get a ride, having done this for a while, stuck my thumb out and we had a ride in less than ten minutes. The nice folks drove us back to Abol Bridge and our car.
That night we had dinner at the only place open on a Sunday night and ate a large pizza between us. Tomorrow was the big day and after closing out the restaurant we headed back to the house.
I had a little trouble sleeping that night.
September 25 Katahdin Me 2189.8 Miles
I woke up early and fixed (we say fixed in the South) my wife breakfast in bed. Of course she got up and asked me what I was doing and I had to send her back to bed. It was scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, fruit and coffee and juice. She actually stayed put for it and enjoyed the pampering I believe.
But that meant that we got a late start, arriving at the bottom of Katahdin, at Katahdin Stream Campsite, around 9:30. That was not good because the park rangers ask that you do not leave for Baxter Peak, the AT terminus, after 10AM. Otherwise you might come back in the dark. A flashlight was required of all hikers as a safety precaution.
There were a few thru-hikers at a picnic table waiting to go up when Terrie and I arrived. But I knew they were young and strong and would be up and back early in the afternoon. But Terrie wanted to hike with me and I knew she would slow things down a bit. That concerned me.
Katahdin has two main peaks at the top, Baxter Peak and Pamola Peak and the two peaks are intersected by a path called the Knife's Edge, a trail where for almost half a mile it is three feet across and a deadly drop on both sides. Over 20 people since the 1960's have died on this trail.
But I wasn't going to Pamola Peak. The AT officially terminates at Baxter Peak and that was good enough for me.
I was told that it usually takes 8 to 10 hours to do a round trip up to Baxter Peak.
Leaving at 10AM I figured we could be back at 6PM. But if it were to be a slow slog, then we could be back at 8PM. That would be dark. The sun sets at 7PM now. And that would be dangerous climbing down in the dark, especially for my wife.
But she did say she would turn around if things got rough. And after 2.5 miles, I was booking ahead and waiting for her to catch up. Finally, around 11: 30, as we sat down for a snack, she said that her legs were shaking. At the same time a couple of ladies, day hikers were coming down and reported that the boulders up the trail were almost impossible to climb so they had turned back.
At this point my wife said that she was going back to the Campsite and asked the ladies if she could join them. I said I thought it was good idea and gave her a kiss goodbye. Then I took off my shirt, it was getting warm, and began to climb.
A good thing she turned back too. Almost all the trails on the mountain are classified as very strenuous, the highest clarification that the Park gives. This one, the Hunt Trail/AT was no exception. At 5.2 miles it is the longest trail in terms of time and distance. Terrie turned back just as we passed tree line where the Hunt turned into a pile of giant granite bounders. I had to use metal handlebars secured into the rock to climb up the boulders and to reach the relatively flat Gateway ridge. I was really glad Terrie had turned back as she would have been physically taxed to the limit.
Oh but the views were beautiful, magnificent. I wish she could have seen them. I stopped for fifteen minutes to catch my breath, enjoy the mountain range and eat a snack before heading on. But there were thru-hikers coming down now and a few mentioned that I was getting a late start. I had left at 9:30AM and they had left between 6 and 8 AM.
I figured I would have to stay moving and began to book it up the boulders and around 12:30PM I had made it to the ridge that would take me up to the Tableland/Gateway. The ridge was a tumble of rocks and sand that climbed for a mile to The Gateway. I passed Trapper John and Mile Back and Mile Back's father coming back down the ridge.
Mile Back's father said that there may not be any hikers left on Baxter Peak by the time I got there.
That would be a drag, I thought, I'll have nobody to take my finishing picture with the Katahdin/Baxter Peak sign. I gotta hurry.
It took me longer than expected to go one mile along that ridge. There was a lot of rock climbing, but thankfully fairly level climbing. I finally clambered up to the Tableland around 1:30.
I was surprised at what I saw when I reached the top. I was expecting another straight climb up to the top. But it was miles of flat land.
That's why they called it The Tableland. It looks like a flat desert of algaed boulders and rusty foliage for a few miles around and I could see the rounded hills of Baxter and Pamola in the distance. At this point I began to walk the 1.6 miles across The Tableland to reach Baxter Peak.
I hit Thoreau Spring, a crawling little spring, and the Abol Trail, another trail that leads to Baxter around 1:45. The spring is named after the great naturalist and iconoclast, Henry David Thoreau, who had climbed Katahdin in the 1840's.
I also remembered that in the nineteenth century, Fredrick Church, the great wilderness painter, painted a stunning picture of Katahdin that had recently sold for over 3 million dollars.
But I didn't think about the past for long. At this point, with less than a mile to go, I was very excited about hitting Baxter Peak and practically ran my way over the rocks toward the hill. At the bottom of the hill I looked up and saw the famous sawhorse shape of the Katahdin sign at the top the hill.
I was grinning and running up the hill to the Katahdin sign and when I finally got to the stand with the sign saying " KATAHDIN Baxter Peak Elevation 5267 feet" I started laughing and blubbering "Oh my God! I can't believe this. Wow. I hike all the way from Georgia, all the way and...and here I am, and here is this naked woman, and a pretty one too. This is amazing."
"You hiked all the way from Georgia?" the naked woman in her blue tennis shoes asked.
"Yeah, I sure did. And it's amazing. I can't believe it. Thank you naked girl."
Naked Girl had a clothed friend with her but I gave my iPhone to Naked Girl and asked her to take a few photos of myself standing behind the large sawhorse, in front of the KATAHDIN sign, arms outspread, the traditional pose that I had seen in countless AT pictures. I had arrived with my shirt off and wanted that honest picture.
Then I asked the woman for some pictures with my shirt on which is the way I always thought it would be like because I figured it would be freezing up here when I arrived in late September.
And did I get a picture of myself with my clothes off? What do you think?
It was beautiful at the top with spectacular mountain ridge views stretching out into the distance like the boney backs of a herd of Brontosaurus. And it did feel ancient and primeval standing up there where an island arc had rammed into North America some 400 million years ago. I could see where many millions of years later the glaciers had dug large gaps into the sides of the mountain, leaving the lakes below, and me standing on its granite core.
I had landed at Baxter Peak around 2:15 and though it was lovely I did have promises to keep. I needed to head back down the mountain. I calculated 5.5 hours to get to the Campsite and at that pace, I'd arrive at 8:30 PM.
No that is not the way this will end I thought to myself. I was not going over enormous granite boulders in the dark. And there was no cell service to let anybody know of my whereabouts.
As I descended down the trail I turned back to take a look at Baxter Peak. In the distance I saw the two girls racing madly along the Knife's Edge trail, naked and free, up towards Pamola Peak.
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