September 4 Fry Notch Lean-to ME 1928 Miles
Well, yesterday I had hiked far ahead of my fellow hikers, 67 year old Magnut and 41 year old Jumanji, and came out in Grafton Notch Me at a parking lot. As usual there was no telephone service and so hitched a ride into the nearest town and checked into the Chapman Inn, sleeping in a bunk.
That night, totally unplanned, Jumanji and Magnut appeared at the Inn. They had passed me when I stopped at the Full Goose shelter for a half an hour to eat a few peanut butter sandwiches, and by serendipity decided to lodge at the same place as I.
I had hoped to blog today at the library across the street. But it was Labor Day. Well I'd have to put it off a few more days. I had some walking to do.
We left the hostel at 11:00 and were shuttled thirty minutes by the maintenance man back to Grafton Notch. Since we had left late and had to climb 2500 feet up Baldpate Mtn, we decided to do just a 6 mile day rather than Magnum and my 13 mile average. Glad we did.
Along the way I calculated how long it would take me to finish at 12 miles a day. Sometime after the 25th of September. And since I gave up my tent I had to plan to hit all the shelters, called Lean-to's here, until Katahdin Mt.
When would I take my last zero? Rangeley had a library and grocery and a pub. That is over a forty miles walk away. We'd be a few nights out. Jumanji walked the fastest of we three, but he was deliberately following my lead so as to slow down. He did not want to burn out going too fast. Jumanji had a large bushy beard that he had since day One. I decided to let mine go until the end. I'm surprised at how white it is and how old it makes me look. It doesn't matter out here though: age and job is unimportant; we are all hikers.
So we climbed the three miles up to Baldpate West peak and then the one mile to the East peak, stopping at Baldpate Lean-to for water.
It was a beautifully clear day and cool, perfect hiking weather, and the walk over the West peak was easy and looking out onto the East peak we noted that it was all rock. Nice. Within an hour we were climbing up the smooth rock face for hundreds of yards. When we got to the top we sat down and enjoyed the fine view of the East peak.
Going over the East peak was different however. It was steep wet rocks and rocks from a stream on smooth rock. Jumanji slipped and fell down a rock. He was more embarrassed than anything.
We all slip Jumanji, I said.
But I had good momentum and soon left them behind, meeting them at the Lean-to.
You left us behind because of my slip huh, says Jumanji.
It's not always about you man, I said. I just felt like booking it that's all.
Which reminds me: Someone once asked me at a time when I was feeling so embarrassed and ashamed: How much do you think people think about you?
I responded, I don't know.
He answered: Not much. They are too busy thinking about themselves or thinking about what other people think of them.
September 5 Hall Mountain Lean-to ME 1939 miles
Magnut is an early riser, getting up at 5AM in the dark and fixing a hot breakfast in her Jet Boil and putting things in her bag. I go back to sleep and awake at 6, eat a couple of power bars in the sack, and by 6:45 she and Jumanji and I are heading out for a ten mile day. It was nice moderate terrain with some nice ponds where the newly red and and yellow leaves and grass reflected the silvery birches and maples in the water.
Jumanji asked about the book I was reading: the Heart of Darkness. I told him I hadn't been reading it much since I got in late to the shelters and was too tired to read such wonderfully complex writing. I had read the novella several times before and told him that the movie Apocalypse Now was based on the Joseph Conrad story. It concerned colonialism, murdering African natives, and the mystery of losing oneself when away from civilized restraints and morality.
We talked for a long while as we hiked about war and colonialism and his experience as a Navy medic. He was thinking about going back to school and becoming a PA, a Physician's Assistant.
Jumanji was also concerned about the permits to climb Katahdin. Would there be any when we arrived? I said there would be, even though I didn't know for sure. They are not going to turn away hikers, I said, who have hiked 2189 miles to get to their State Park.
He worries though. And I probably don't worry enough.
We got to the shelter in the dark, around 7:15. It hadn't rained, thank God. Tomorrow we had three mountains to climb.
September 6 Bemis Mtn lean-to Me 1951.7 miles
We left at 6:45 AM. Rain was forecast at 100 percent. Which means nothing really because 100 percent could be a thimbleful or a deluge. We put on our rain covers over our packs just in case.
The first mountain was Wyman which was fairly moderate with an easy five mile long 1500 feet ascent. The next mountain was tougher--Moody Mtn. It was a one mile 1500 foot ascent, climbing over roots and rocks.
It was cool that day and cold at the summit of the mountains but I walked without a shirt. I overheat easily. And it rained 100 percent of a thimbleful.
After coming down Wyman we immediately ascended Old Blue Mountain almost two miles and 2500 feet. It was very rough, requiring climbing up and down slick rocks and through numerous mud puddles filled with soupy water. All of us had our shoes mudded and soaked. I don't know if I was just tired by this time, but old Blue kicked my butt and I found it a harder climb than the infamous Mahoosuc Notch. And to top it off, the views were less than overwhelming.
I was ready for the day to end and was glad when we saw the Lean-to sign pointing down the path.
September 7 Sabbath Day Pond Lean-to 1960 Miles
After yesterday's arduous day, we decided to sleep late and left at 8am, for a nine mile day. It was drizzling and cold heading out. Today we were going down Bernis Mountain to Bernis Stream which we were told was difficult to ford. Jumanji and I talked movies and actors and music. We wondered who who replace the great actors like Dustin Hoffman and Al Pacino. I said I couldn't keep track of all the new ones, there was so much TV and movies out there with so many actors.
And music. He couldn't understand what made the Beatles so great. He preferred the Monkees. As an old Beatles fan, I could only say that you like what you like. On my phone I have the Spotify app and I listen to my comfort music from my pack (I think earplugs would close me off too much from the forest): Earl Scruggs and bluegrass, the Beatles, Crooners like Nat King Cole, contemporary folk music, Brazilian Salsa (great upbeat hiking music), Donovan Leitch (which no young person had ever heard of), and lots of sixties songs. Most of my generation is 70's but I like 60's pop and rock music. It was a crazy time, the Sixties, but I learned to question authority, to open my chakras to the new and unknown, and to seek transcendence and follow the Spirit in the Sky. And what could be more far out than that man?
We got down to Bernis Stream and Jumanji looked at all the submerged rocks and after walking across a few rocks he just said to hell with it and walked through the water in his shoes.
Magnus and I decided to find a way across and went downstream to a log that met some outcropping rocks near the middle of the stream. Magnut just jumped on the log as if she did this everyday and a few seconds later slipped off the log and "turtled" into the stream on her backpack. Then she got up and walked out of the stream without looking back. I have to admit it was kind of funny but I kept my laughter in check.
Yours Truly found another log and crawled over to a beaver dam and just ended up with a few twig scratches on my ankles. Magnut was a good sport though and after checking to see if her sleeping bag was dry (it was) she and Jumanji sloshed up the hill.
At the top of the hill was ME 17 and we had a beautiful view of Mooselookmeguntic Lake and the Bernis Mtn from it. While sitting down for a snack I met Wandering Star, an Englishwoman in her 70's who was hiking south-bound, SOBO, on the Appalachian Trail alone for the third time. Three times. That is amazing. How far are you going to walk on this trip I ask.
I'll walk until I feel like stopping, she said matter of factly. She gave me some advice. Take your time and enjoy the hike. Too many NOBO's are racing toward Katahdin. Hikers today are competitive, not like it was in the 80's and the 90's. There was more teamwork then. We had no phones, no maps. We had to work together. Enjoy Monson, it's a charming town.
I told her I would.
Then I peered to the East and raised my arm. I was an American Indian chief: Thank you Wandering STAR. FLY-- OH FLY BEYOND THE HIGHEST MOUNTAIN OH WANDERING STAR AND SEEK THE WORLD BEYOND FATHER SUN AND MOTHER MOON OH WANDERING STAR.
(I do have my silly moments--it's a family disease--much to my wife's chagrin.)
She smiled: Thanks...Gandalf.
When we got to the shelter there were about eight young people there. I climbed into my sack in the shelter and a long haired guy brought out a pipe and also played some guitar around a nicely built fire. He had written the Thru-Hiker Song which was a song with an old Irish cadence and told of the many struggles of a Thru-hiker. It went on for about ten minutes and was wonderful.
He got a large round of applause at the end. Then he played a porno song and then one of the girls asked me if I was offended.
Me? Offended? I said you are talking to a member of the sex, love and rock and roll generation.
(But I do have to say that the song was kinda sexist, about what guys want to do to women, but the girls around the fire didn't seem to mind.) Their generation has been able to see porn almost anytime on the Net I figure. No big deal to them.
It was different for me. During my coming of age, to see what was under people's clothes, I had to hide in the closet of my bedroom, gripping with sweaty palms my dad's Playboy or Nudist Magazines, hoping I wouldn't get caught.
Holy Moly. What is wrong with kids today? Kids need to get off the computer and into the closet.
September 8 Town and Lake Motel, Rangeley, Me 1969.4 miles
I left the lean-to at 7AM and walked 9 miles over moderate and muddy terrain into Rangley ME with Magnut and Jumanji. This would be Magnut's last day on the trail; she started in Connecticut and would end in Rangeley because she had to do a parachuting performance for an audience this coming weekend. Her friend from Vermont would pick her up and take her to her house in Vermont.
We stopped to enjoy the burgeoning Fall leaves from a hill and enjoyed a nice relaxing walk to Hwy 4. Coming out in the parking lot, we ran into a hostel shuttler who took us to her owner's hostel. They had no vacancies, so we waited for Magnut's friend and when he arrived Jumanji and I booked a room at the Town and Lake Motel and went to the local pub for a burger.
I was sad to see Magnut go; she is a sensitive and loyal friend and a tenacious and dextrous hiker.
I figured two days out from Rangeley and I would resupply in Stratton. Then, 3 nights out and I would resupply in Caratunk, ME. After that, 3 or 4 days to Monson and then 7 or 8 (?) days through the 100 mile wilderness to Abol Bridge and Katahdin. With a zero in Monson, I could climb Katahdin on the 25th or the 26th. I had to let my wife know because she wanted to meet me at the end--even hike with me up Katahdin. ( I had doubts about that idea. Katahdin is rated as Difficult.)
Magnut's friend dropped us off at the Supermarket and I resupplied for two days--I like carrying as little as I can unlike most of my hiker buddies who are more cautious. We walked out of the grocery store and I saw a cop car and asked the cop if he would take us the two miles to the Motel. Surprisingly, he said yes and I learned from him that he has had to kill a few moose occasionally so that they would not hit cars coming in or out of town. And that is mostly what he uses his gun for.
The motel itself was no great shakes but it had a nice view of a lake with boats and banners and that night we had a pretty red sunset while I drank a quart of chocolate milk and ate a bag of Fritos.
Later, on TV, CNN was broadcasting news about Hurricane Irma arriving tomorrow and I also learned that Houston had been flooded pretty badly.
Wow. Nobody had told me that. Crazy stuff happening with the weather. I hoped my friends in Florida were ok; CNN showed a number of commentators talking and getting drenched in the rain. They wouldn't get so wet, I thought, if they were standing under a shelter of some sort.
September 9 Town and Lake Motel 1969 Miles
Today I did laundry at a nice laundrymat where the lady gave me some loaner clothes to wear while my three pairs of clothes were being washed. I also had a great pancake and egg breakfast next door to the Mat and did some blogging at the local library which was opened from 1 to 5 today.
It is very difficult to find libraries that are open just as you arrive in these small towns. Most are open just a few days of the week. But I cannot blog on my phone; too small. And I can't think after a long day of hiking.
But libraries are nice and cozy and quiet and most have computers. They are wonderful resources and they are free to the public. I am a big fan of our library system and all the helpful librarians that I have encountered.
After the library, I took a nap at the motel and watched some South Park and read a New Yorker from 2015 and tried to read some pulp fiction, Dean Koontz, to no avail. Around 8PM I was getting annoyed with the TV. Yakkity-Yak, yak, yak. It just wears me out with its endless flickering of visuals and obnoxious noise.
Jumanji, however, laughed through hours of TV practical jokers while I tried to sleep through it. I couldn't really and was glad when he began falling asleep around 10.
I had arranged for a shuttle out of town at 6:20 AM.
September 10 Poplar Ridge Lean-to ME 1980 Miles
Today Jumanji and I had a big day ahead of us. We had a 2500 foot climb to the top of Saddleback Mtn. at over 4000 feet, then another climb to the Horn peak, then a sharp 1000 foot climb to Saddleback Junior, before descending to our shelter: a demanding 11 mile day.
Saddleback began easily enough but after a few miles we hit a rock scramble and climbed over rocks to over 4000 feet. It was cold today with temperatures around 35 and a bristling 30-40 mile wind. It was totally fogged in when we reached the top, we could barely see each other or the white blazes.
We descended down and the up The Horn which was another slow rock climb.
Then onto Saddleback Jr. which was a steep 700 foot ascend and descend. But, the fog had become a haze and it had the best views of the town of Rangeley and Saddleback Mtn.
Jumanji's knees had been bothering him for weeks since hiking with his fast hiking partner, Rabbit. Today they hurt mightily but he plowed on. And with the slick rock and mud, I slipped a couple of times. Frustrated, I told him that he could lead.
We rock scrambled down to moderate terrain and to the shelter. It was in the 30's I figured.
Jumanji mentioned that he wanted to do a 21 mile day into Stratton, ME tomorrow. I thought about it for a few minutes and went over to his tent and told him that if he wanted to do 21 miles tomorrow that he could but I wasn't going to do eight or nine to the next shelter. He said okay.
September 11 Caribou Rd Tenting ME 1 993 Miles
At 7:30 AM Jumanji was gone. Since I had a short day, I took my time and was the last to leave the shelter. I took my time on the trail and leisurely enjoyed the sounds of the birds, the Maine plants, and the rushing creek along the trail. It made me think of Cricket and how he lives and breathes the mountains. When I talk to him about doing miles, and being as fast as he is, he smiles broadly. What is the hurry, you can hear him think.
It was a nice clear day. I felt good. I walked three miles up Lone Mountain until I got telephone service. I t is so hard to get service at all in Maine.
I texted Cricket. Does he have a working phone now? He did. He is in Andover, about 50 miles back. You are booking it he says.
I texted Huckleberry, my old hiking buddy from North Carolina. He says he can't make Katahdin in September and will do a flip-flop from Katahdin. We will cross paths as he heads South.
Then, I texted 5 Year Plan, my Vermont hiking buddy, who said he was 2 days ahead.
By the time I got to Spaulding Mtn. Lean-to, eight miles, it was 1 PM and I still had some mojo left in me. The trail had been fairly easy to moderate, but I had no tent and there was no shelter within reach. But it was a nice day and no rain in the forecast. So why not Cowboy it and sleep under the stars? So I trucked on to the South Crocker Mountain campsite.
And the trail was moderate going up Spaulding and Sugarloaf Mountains from the South. Then I passed a hiker who told me it was rougher on the north face. And it was.
It was a four mile rock scramble down a steep descent with some hanging from rock involved and then slowly going from rock to rock. Without poles I take to grabbing nearby trees and bushes for support. My knees, sore ever since doing the Whites, took a beating here.
It was almost dark by the time I reached the bottom of Sugarloaf and had forded the South Branch Carrabassett River. I was ready to call it quits before reaching the Crocker campsite.
Happily, I came across a fire and a few hiker acquaintances sitting around a fire. Frenchie from
Quebec was there with his father who had joined his hike for a while.
I blew up my mattress and lay my bag down a little ways from the fire and had a nice sleep between all the tents. Waking up on one occasion to see the three stars of the Dipper through a break in the trees.
September 12 Stratton Motel ME. 2001 Miles
Daylight woke me up and I was packed and out of camp at 6:15. I was not looking forward to climbing Crocker because Guthook showed it to be a steep ascent and a long descent. I hoped that it was not as bad as Sugarloaf was yesterday.
But it was a nice early morning climb up Crocker. I met a nice young couple who I let pace me up and over Crocker and the long 7 mile descent. I don't see how they walk so fast over these rocks and roots but they do: no fear, perfect confidence is required. Also quick judgement: step here and not here.
After a few hours I heard some hollering up ahead and picked up the pace. When I arrived, there were a group of hikers taking pictures at the 2000 mile sign: sticks formed on the ground spelling out 2000 2000.
A couple played dead behind the sign. Exactly the way I felt: not elated and proud as I was when I did my first 100. Just tired. I sat behind the 2000 and got my picture taken. Then I stood up, thinking I had better put on some kind of act, I stood up and put on a fake smile and a thumbs up.
I walked another two miles to ME 27 to hitch to Stratton, ME. The hikers were all there dancing and playing on the road with their thumbs out. I was too tired to join in. Before long a van picked us up and dropped the hikers off at a restaurant and dropped me off near my motel, the Stratton Motel. It was a hiker's Hostel really and hiker's were sitting around watching TV and reading chips and such. I was showed my bunk room and it had clothes stacked high all over the floor. Not for 35 a night says I. I'm not twenty either where I will accept it. I bitched and they came up and cleaned up the cigarette packs off the floor and the dirty clothes and vacuumed.
One of the cleaners looked familiar. I had seen the girl before but she was thinner. She looked at me and I looked at her. Crocs? she said. Wolfie? Wolfgang? And we had a big hug. I had hiked with her for almost a month in Georgia until I decided that she was too slow for me and she decided that I annoyed her with my get up and go enthusiasm.
It was good to see her. We went to the store and bought some food and cooked up a nice meal with some high quality Bud Light. She said that she had been at the Motel doing work-for-stay for 6 days and was leaving tomorrow. She was doing a flip-flop. Still slow she said. It was good to see her.
I said goodbye that night, having done laundry and resupply, knowing that I would not see he in the morning when I left at 7:30. She was a sleeper.
I didn't sleep well in that top bunk. These crummy hostels. I kept thinking that I had 189 miles to go and how tired I was and what it would be like to just relax, without planning where I would be the next few days, and how much food I would need to take. So close, yet so far away.
September 13 Nazarene Hostel Kingfield ME 2017 miles
I wanted to slack pack the Bigelow Mountain range. But the hostel manager said it would cost me $80. Get four people he said and it will be 20 apiece. But I knew nobody who was going out today. The place was disorganized, there should be a slack packing sheet for people to follow.
Along the trail I saw a sign that said the Church of the Nazarene would put hiker's up for free. I took the number and now I called John. He said to leave the pack at the Motel and hike to Flagstaff Road and he would bring my pack to me. I would stay at the church's rental house in Kingfield.
I took a shuttle from the motel to the trailhead, carrying a light daypack with some food and water. The trail was suburban park smooth for three miles and then there was the 5 mile climb up to South Horn. Along the way I met King Rat, a serious fellow who traveled with his girl "friend." We passed each other a few times up to South Horn and then to Bigalow Mountain West Peak and the Avery Memorial Campsite and Avery Peak, named after the great architect of the AT, Myron Avery, an unrelenting lawyer and worker who was responsible for about 19,000 miles of National Scenic Trails on the Appalachian Trail. At the the top of the mountain there was a plaque dedicated to him.
I hung out at the top of Mt. Avery for about half an hour noting all the lakes surrounding the peak. Maine is covered with water and ponds and lakes.
Then there was a steep and very long 9 mile descent down to Flagstaff Road where I was to meet my church host, John. I seemed as if it took forever to there because of the many switchbacks going down, winding back and forth. It was a long day.
I tried to tell John that I would be late, around 6 and not 5, but I couldn't get a signal for the longest time. But for a few seconds I did and got a text off.
At the parking lot I met Dylan, Abacus and Forever at John's van. John came back from fishing and told us all about the great bear and deer hunting in Maine. He mentioned that city folk, where most Maine folks live, complain about bears getting in their trash and then complain when hunters cull the population up north so they don't go in the cities. I'm not a hunter but I see his point.
After a 45 minute ride to the town of Kingfield, John set us up in an old house where the new preachers generally live. It had about 15 bunks and cots and we were all able to grab a room for ourselves to put our sleeping bags on and there was a kitchen and a shower. and fridge. Nice.
Then John took me to resupply at the local supermarket. I wanted four days worth to get me into Monson, Me.; the last stop before the famous 100 Mile Wilderness and Kahtahdin.
September 14 Pierce Pond Lean-to 2034 Miles
John would not take money, a donation. The church bears the cost he said. I can't say enough about help and courtesy from all the Churches I have stayed in and been supported by while on the trail. Many do a lot of good in this world.
John took me to the trailhead and at 8:15 I began walking from Flagstaff Rd. It was an easy climb over a few hills and then a few miles of roots and rocks. Then I met Gargle sitting on the side of the trail. He had tripped over a root and hurt his knee. It was swollen I could tell. But a few hours later, he passed me on the trail. The resiliency of youth.
Water was scarce, no clean streams or springs along the way so a few of us stopped at the trail leading to the West Carry Pond Lean-to and walked .5 miles to a spring with some delicious cold water. I sure will miss great mountain water when I get home.
We sat around at the trail head and drank our water and ate our lunches. This Lean-to had a wonderful new cedar privy someone said. It was nice to have clean privies we all agreed and Maine had some nice ones. And then someone mentioned the Privy with the two toilets in it and how odd that was.
Well, it would be a good place to shit with your friend and talk with somebody you know, a hiker remarked.
Yeah, that would be a real good friend-shit, I said.
I walked another ten miles of easy thru-hiker terrain, making this a 16 mile day and landed at Pierce Pond Lean-to, where it was filled up with tenters and a few shelter types. It was a good night to Cowboy but the shelter had a great view of the Pond so I holed up in there and watched people cooking around the fire between the shelter and the lake and soon fell asleep around 7:30, after seeing good ol Trapper John and Mile Back come into view. Trapper pulled in next to me. Nice 23 year old kid he is.
September 15 Bald Mtn. Brook Lean-to ME 2053 miles
Headed out of the camp area with Frenchie (Mongoose) around 7:30. Hoping to see a moose near the pond because the hang near water at sunset and sunrise but I saw none.
Today we crossed the famous Kennebec River near Caratunk ME where we had to Ferry and were not permitted to ford because of the undertow. Water rises because of rains and the hydro-electric dam up stream. In 1985 a hiker drowned trying to cross the river so the ATC put in a no-fording policy.
I sat an hour in line on the bank and crossed the river with King Rat and our backpacks and our canoe guide. It took us about 15 minutes to cross to the other bank. Most of climbed out of the boat and walked the fifteen minutes to an old tired B&B with some hiker foods and a great strawberry milkshake. I also had a couple of Gatorades. I knew to keep hydrated. About twenty hikers decided to go to a bar down the road and drink away the afternoon.
I wanted to get to Monson though. But I wasn't sure that I could do it in ten days, by the 25th, and catch the plane back to Nashville on the 26th. I had told my wife a few days ago that I could but I was having doubts.
The B & B owner said that I could but that I would have to walk four days to Monson and then NERO, resupply, and get back on the trail and do 6 days through the 100 Mile Wilderness and into Katahdin.
I got back on the trail and met Anon a few miles in, sitting by the trail. He said he got a picture of this animal that looked like a cat with a weasel's body. He said he had to wait the animal out to get a good shot. I was impressed with the shot and Anon. Few hikers have the presence and the curiosity to stop and take a picture as he did. Especially twenty-somethings. But I didn't know what animal it was. A weasel? It had a cat-like face and a long slender body and was brown. I thought I had seen a sign a while back to watch out for this newly introduced species in Maine 's parks. Perhaps this was it. We had no service so could not Google. I still don't know.
A few more miles later and Anon got a nice picture of a black grouse that was walking the ground and flew up on a limb. It was his day for animal spotting.
Then we took a 1500 climb over Moxie Bald Mountain discussing Democrats and Russia and the US Military state. Like most people I am biased, prejudiced and slanted. I am probably wrong most of the time. I'll agree to that.
Anon and I are in general agreement on things-- but he believes the issues of the day are real. I believe some are but I think most of the issues of the day are drummed up by our government and our politicians and their Press, to get the citizens riled up against this or that Political Party, or this-or-that "evil" country (like Russia, or China, or North Korea), or to rile up people to win political points or to build up justification for a new war or trade battle. This is a land where Marketing and Manipulation rules big.
In everything. I get tired of being manipulated. I tell Anon. In my life, I have been through Vietnam propaganda (what good did that war do?) and Saddam propaganda (WMD lies) which has led to an invasion and the spreading of ISIS. And Syria. Why are we involved in their war? Why? It's their war. To keep it going? To create refugees? Great. Nice job.
Then Clinton and Obama and the Pentagon (lets not forget the Producers) overthrow Libya which has also led to the spread of Islamic "terrorism" and poor refugees flooding into Europe.
Words. Words manipulate. What is "terrorism" when my country goes around murdering people or arranging murders in Iraq or Libya or Syria for no good reason. Who are the "terrorists?" What is a terrorist? A person? A country? A terrorist is always the enemy, the Other, the Foreigner. It's never us.
Perhaps I ask for too much, I'm a naive idealist: why not have a kinder, more just, more peaceful country and world. But, like a child of an abusive father, I am angry and blinded as well by my love for the land that has given me so much and angry at tmy country for the blood it spills in the name of money and power and control.
Anon didn't quite understand what I meant until he understood that if you think of the US leaders as a Mafia Family that makes business deals, trade deals, and hits and offers that "you can't refuse," than you will have a closer idea of what our leaders do. Then they tell "the kids" through the Press that they are fighting for their freedom and protection and not to worry and to go shopping and to get a new TV set. Then when a major hit is necessary, an invasion perhaps, they tell our young people to don the uniform to fight this or that "evil" nation and to get ready to die for the protection of the Family.
Sorry. That just doesn't do it for me, Dad.
I get it, says Anon. I don't agree with you on everything but what you say makes sense.
After such pleasant conversation up and over mountainsides, I was glad to reach Pleasant Pond. Mile Back's parents were at the road waiting for their 24 year old son and offered us some water. We were thirsty. Trapper John was already there.
Anon and I wanted to get to Bald Mountain Brook Lean-to. At least I thought that was where we were going. Then about two miles before hitting the shelter Anon says he is having dinner by this brook.
Okay, I say walking up the hill, I am going to the shelter. It's only half an hour or forty-five minute away. I had to hurry because it was growing dark and I had left my headlight at the Chapman Inn in Bethel, ME.
I came in in the dark to a fire being tended to by Cowboy and Bartender. I didn't know where the shelter was. It was dark and late, 7:30 PM, so I Cowboyed it and ate some grub around the fire. I passed around the last dregs of some cinnamon whiskey and they in turn gave some god-awful blackberry brandy. Tit-for-tat.
Then who should appear but Anon with a headlight on his head. You made it I said. You can set up over there. I'm not staying he said, I'm gonna keep walking.
Are you serious, I said.
Yes, he said and walked off. Had to smile. Have to admire his independence; reminds me of myself.
Then Trapper John and Mile Back walked in and soon, around 8, I was asleep while they drank and smoked around the fire.
September 16 Shaw's Monson Me 2075 Miles
I awoke at 4:30 and went back to sleep and woke up again at 6Am. I had a few pieces of dried fruit and some nuts and left at 6:30.
Yesterday I walked 19 miles and the day before I walked 16 miles. If I were to walk this fairly thru-hiker level trail, abet rocky and rooty of course, then I could get into Monson today. It would be a 22 mile walk. Very long. But I could take a Zero in Monson and not a Nero as I would if I took four days to get to Monson. The B& B owner suggested four days. I would do it in 2.
Yeah, it is flatter after the Bigalow Range but hikers still have mountains to climb. Moxie Bald is a 1500 foot climb and descent.
But I didn't go over the summit and instead took the bypass trail to the west. I guessed that my friend Anon was at the top of Moxie in his tent watching the sunrise. He is a sucker for a nice view. I am too but my aching feet and knees have precedence at this point in my hike. I also need water and a sign pointed to a spring on the bypass.
I found the spring and it was a dribble down a rock. I put a leaf town to funnel it some and after ten minutes had a liter in my Smartwater Bottle. Most thru-hikers use Smartwater bottles out here because water filters fit them well and their slim shape fits backpack pockets well.
After coming down the mountain, I walked along the Piscataquis River for a number of miles and met Van Man coming South. He drops his son off on the trail for the son to walk North. Then he drives the van North to where the Trail crosses a road and walks South and passes the car keys to his son who picks up the van and then his father. A nice system. You never have to carry food if you don't want to and if you do stay in a shelter or on the trail, you only need one night's worth of food.
After 13 miles I was whooped. Drained. I struggled even opening a sack of cookies. Here it was the 18th of September and I had seven days to climb Kahtadin and then fly home. What was I thinking? I can't do this. I can barely keep my eyes open now.
I texted my wife. I can't make it by the 25th. Maybe the 30th is more reasonable. I will see once I get into Monson.
I wanted to stay at the famous Shaw's Hostel, which had been seeing hiker's off into the 100 Mile Wilderness of Baxter State Park for over thirty years. I called them and I stupidly walked past my pickup place for a mile and had to walk an extra three miles to a highway to be picked up.
They didn't have any bunks available so I slept on a futon on the landing outside the rooms. I really didn't give a damn where I slept.
They offered everybody a free soda or PBR on arrival. There were about fifteen hikers in tents out in the yard. There was a nice hiker's store onsite and they offered for breakfast, eggs and bacon and coffee and all the blueberry pancakes you could eat for nine dollars.
I also met 62 year-old Persistence there. I hadn't seen him since we landed at Anton's on the Lake in Greenwood, New York. He was still with Foggy and they had zeroed and were leaving the next day.
He looked very tired. He looked tired in New York and said, "When I get home I'm gonna sit on a couch for a week and not move." I reminded him of that.
"I still feel that way," he said and smiled wanly.
September 17 Shaw's Monson ME 2075 Miles
The next morning I booked a private room when one of the hiker's checked out. I had breakfast with a nice group of hikers and had a nice talk with an Australian hiker who did not make it through the 100 Mile Wilderness because she ran out of food. Be sure you have enough she said for seven days.
She was in Tourism back home and she told of us all the different nationalities she encountered and their characteristics. Indians were aggressive, she said, they practically threw their bodies across the counter questioning why they could not get what they want. She had to practically push them away from her.
South Africans were superior and they expected you to be deferential and servile as a servant. So, she said she always played the part of a parlor maid with South Africans. They couldn't help it. That's their culture. The same with the Israelis. Israeli's tend to be tight with a dollar and would bargain and complain over any price or cost.
And my countryman, I asked. How are they? Loud and entitled she said. You can tell an American from a distance because their hands are waving and they are complaining about this or that place is not good enough, that they expect better and are entitled to better. Americans have been trained to be choosey and demanding consumers of products I suggested.
Yeah she said. But you know your regular American that I have met on the trail is not that way. They are really nice and friendly.
That afternoon I ate gas station pizza and napped. I picked up my wife's care packages and took out some nice things for myself like dried fruit and nuts and gave away santi-wipes and packaged meats to other hikers in the parlor who cried out"Christmas!" and hung around my boots like little elves.
Then I started packing for six days worth of food, including three days of deli meat and two jars of peanut butter and a fresh "bear"of honey. I skipped the comfort items to save weight.
I ran into Anon while ordering dinner at the only restaurant in town. The food was very good. Anon was camping outside town and we talked about our hikes along the trail with another couple of hikers.
Then Anon said you can make it up Kahtahdin on the 25th. You don't realize how fast and far you can walk. You underestimate yourself.
But it's the 19th, how can I can I do it in five days?
It's not the 19th Crocs. It is the 17th.
Are you shitting me? Oh no. My wife is gonna kill me. I bet she cancelled our flights.
Call her, he said.
I excused myself and called her. She had canceled the flights for both of us. I told her about being exhausted and about the date mixup and she called the airlines and reinstated our dates.
Now I had to get there on time.
September 18 Wilson Lean-to
The owner of Shaw's is a middle aged ex-hiker who runs a fine place. He usually does the breakfast and does the shuttling to and back from the trail. This morning, after I herded up the hikers going out (like herding cats, he says), we made it to the trailhead where we got a nice pat of hiker poetry from him and a warning to watch the slick slate that was up and down the trail.
The slate rocks were smooth flat wet and dangerous as he said. I avoided them if I could. After a few miles of "nice" trail it started to get Maine rooty and about 10 miles in I came to Big Wilson Stream which had a line running across it. I took off my shoes and forded it meeting Trapper John on the other side. He was waiting for Mile Back to catch up which he did a few minutes later.
We all went to Wilson Lean-to where a SOBO had made a nice fire and we sat around the fire, ate and then hit the sack. around 8.
September 19 Chairback lean-to 2101 Miles
Today was a long and hard 17 mile climb over four mountains. They kicked my butt royally.
And people said the Wilderness is flat. Ha! Like Virginia. Another thru-hiker joke.
But before the mountains beat me up, Trapper and Mile Back and I ran into a large sign on a tree indicating Trail Magic in a cabin down a dirt road. Reluctantly (because I wanted to press on and had enough food) I went at Trader's insistence.
I'm glad I did though. A man about my age had the misfortune of losing his 47 year old son a couple of years back. And though he thought hiker's were smelly trash, his son who had hiked the Trail gave out trail magic frequently.
So this father, Scout he called himself, gave out Magic in honor of his son. He cooked hamburgers and hot dogs and even had veggie burgers for the vegans and vegetarians in the crowd. And provided beer and soft drinks. All for free. Another act of kindness on the trail. He even learned to like hikers and their simple needs.
I'm also glad I ate before setting off. Climbing 1500 foot Barren Mountain was not easy, and hitting the ledges was a long tough slog. Then walking through a bog for a mile on some shakey 2 x 4's added to the slog. Then up and down Fourth Mountain and Third and up Columbus Mountain and down to Chairback Gap Lean-to was exhausting. My knees were killing me. I thought of the girl who said she did the 100 in 4 days. She must have had some good drugs.
I came into the Lean-to around 8 PM with my phone light on. A couple in the shelter were sleeping and said"Welcome." I crawled into the shelter, set up mattress and bag, ate a couple of god-awful power bars by phone light and fell asleep, my stuff strewn alongside the shelter.
September 20 Logan Brook Lean-to 2118 Miles
I woke up tired. For the last week I seem to have lost my mojo. I needed to get over it; I had some miles to cover and a plane to catch. Could I make it by the 25th? I had to walk 67 miles in five days. And did I mention I was tired?
Today I had to walk a long 2500 feet up to White Cap Mountain. A 17 mile day. But it was easier than yesterday, thank God and I got to the top of the mountain around five and had some pretty views. But being cold and tired I didn't stay long, and descended down to Logan Brook Lean-to as quick as I could and got in at 6:30PM, before dark.
Camp that night was lively. Lots of hikers there. I slept next to King Rat who was reading the Hobbit and talked a bit with Van Man who was there with his son. Being an old fart I skipped the social event and got to sleep early, earplugs in and no Benadryl. I was wondering if it was catching up to me or not. Who knows?
September 21 Nahmakanta Campsite 2145 Miles
This morning I realized that I had seventy miles to walk in four days. About 17 miles a day and I would have to push it and get a lot more mojo.
Talking with Van Man, he told me that he was dropping his son off in three miles and then taking a hiker, her name was Cooper, up to Jo-Mary road and hiking South as he usually does. I made an executive decision and decided that 12 miles could be the difference between making it to Katahdin on time and with enough Mojo to climb it. So after a 3 mile walk down to a dirt road, CG and I took the van to Jo Mary Rd.
I was told that after Logan Lean-to it was easy trail but I knew that it was about my energy level rather than how easy the terrain was.
Along the way over some easy hills and moderate trails, I listened to forty-one year old Cooper talk about her boyfriend at home who won't commit, who says that she is always bossing him around, that now wants to be friends.
I just want someone to go home to. That's all. I have been out here six months and it would be nice to have someone to go home to.
There are a lot of forlorn lovers out here. One guy moved from New Jersey to be with his girl in Texas and when he got there she was living with another guy. Another hiker lost his girlfriend to another hiker while on the trail. Another guy was hiking the trail because he couldn't bear telling his wife that he wanted a divorce. He figured he'd think about it for a few months.
We didn't even get to the lover's part, Cooper said. I couldn't get him to talk. He said I was being pushy. And his crazy ex-girlfriend was living with him. That didn't help things either.
We had planned on going a few miles more to a campsite praised on Guthook, but when we came across a nice shore on a lake and it was getting dark, we decided to camp by the lake. A couple of elderly campers, Dennis and wife, offered to share their picnic table and we brought our food bag up to the table.
They said they had met a number of hikers in the past few days. I told them a lot of people were racing to Katahdin, many trying to go up on the 24th or 25th. Dennis said that an ex-Navy guy had come in last night severely dehydrated, peeing red. They gave him water and a number of bowls of hot soup which he devoured. What was his name I asked.
Jumanji he said.
Jumanji was racing ahead as he said he would if he didn't have someone like me to pace him. I'm glad he didn't end up in the hospital. The couple said he got up early the next morning and took off. He wanted to summit on Saturday the 23rd.
Flyer came hiking in. He had done a 27 mile day, coming from near where Cooper and I had stayed there night before. Hikers were doing these long days to get to the mountain near the weekend. I was glad of my executive decision just for my safety and for my happiness.
It was a gorgeous blood orange sunset over the lake and I slept without a tent nicely content.
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