Maine

Day 78, August 24

Happiness is finding a trail after galumphing around the muskeg in darkness and falling into a hole. We had set off at 5:04 am and soon finished the climb up Goose Eye Mountain East Peak where we watched a crimson rise of sun behind heavy scud. After climbing the North Peak we descended to Full Goose Shelter, and stopped for a minute to sign the register.

We climbed another mountain, then descended quite a ways to the infamous Mahoosuc Notch Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . This nine-tenth mile of boulders was supposed to be a major undertaking, and we were eager to see it. For the most part the rocks were dry. However, the sky was threatening, urging us onward all the more. We clambered over, around and over - for forty-two minutes before reaching the far side. Had the rocks been wet, the transit would have taken us at least twice as long, for the sake of safety.

The climb up Mahoosuc Arm was a long one. We met several hikers, one with a big dog, and at one point we saw a bear that went tearing through the bushes at the sound of us coming. From the top we descended to a pretty lake called Speck Pond, then we climbed nearly to the top of a mountain with a fire tower before descending a couple thousand feet to Grafton Notch Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out (ME 26).

We met a north-bound section hiker who called himself "Slow Joe" (Joe Metz), and we walked with him a ways, enjoying the conversation. After enduring a major heart attack and bypass surgery, he had competed in a forty-eight hour yacht race and was now hiking a strenuous section of the AT.

Bidding Joe adieu, we quickened our pace and climbed Baldpate Mountain West Peak. En route we met two Outward Bound groups from Hurricane Island. Baldpate Mountain East Peak Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out was very interesting, as the trail climbed expansive granite slabs most of the way. The slabs were somewhat steep, and could be dangerous when wet for someone descending. It seemed like a person could fall or roll several thousand feet. The wind was blowing strongly, but the air was not cold. Nevertheless it prompted us down the mountain's far side in some haste.

The trail down was rough and slow going. We stopped at the Frye Notch Lean-To and collected water and talked with its two occupants, overnight hikers. Like most of the people we had met today, they were friendly and easy-going.

Pressing on, we hiked into darkness which came early because of a major thunderstorm. We walked in the rain for half an hour, slipping and sliding in the faint light of our flashlights. Finally at 8 pm we found a level piece of ground, pitched the tent, and climbed gratefully inside.

Day's mileage: 20.2

Day 79, August 25

The rain continued heavily for a few hours. We missed our alarms and awoke at dawn. The trees were dripping heavily, but the rain had ceased. We broke camp and set off at 5:33 am. Despite the inclement weather, the temperature had remained remarkably warm. Within a few minutes I stopped to remove my wind breaker, and then hiked shirtless all day. One and a half miles from camp we came to Dunn Notch Falls Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . The creek was swollen with rain runoff and we were appalled to find that the trail crossed it at the head of the falls! We carefully waded the creek and continued following the trail that eventually led past Surplus Pond. there, we met four south-bounders. The first two were amiable and we chatted awhile. The third fellow hardly gave us a nod. The fourth fellow acted dumb when I asked if he was with the other three. After a long pause he said, "South" with a foreign accent. "Ah," I said, "where are you from?" "Switzerland." We all broke out into big grins. I said, "Compared to Switzerland, this is nothing." He replied, "It's a little different."

We were glad to have these hikers coming from the other direction for they had knocked some of the water from the bushes overhanging the trail. After climbing a peak we stopped at the Hall Mountain Lean-To for lunch. We met a fellow section hiking the AT who seemed to be enjoying it. He hiked only a couple of months a year, one in the spring, one in the fall. This month he was hiking Maine. There was non-continuity in his trek, a lot of driving and very little sleeping in the mountains. "In Northern Maine I hiked from lake to lake, swimming in many of them and enjoying the country. The thru-hikers I met were hiking as fast as they could with only one thought on their collective minds - reaching Katahdin." It was a heartening contrast meeting this fellow, who, over the last few years had hiked nearly the entire trail and and was not burning himself out.

We stopped for water half way down the mountain, then at the bottom we crossed the South Arm Road Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out and started up the flanks of Old Blue Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . The ascent was long and steep, and lacking in views from the summit. Descending its far side and crossing another road, we climbed the next peak which had similar qualities.

Finding a nice patch of sunshine on its flanks, we stopped and dried our gear. A little squirrel came to us with an immature pine cone in its mouth. It came within a few feet and showed no fear, and we enjoyed its company. I offered it a peanut, but it scurried away.

The trail has not been as well trod these days. Trail work seemed to be lacking and the rocks and roots made for slow going. We worked our way to the top of Bemis Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , once again lacking in views, but on the descent we saw the most amazing scenery away to the north: flatlands and huge lakes. The camping possibilities had been few and far between, and the trail certainly did not lend itself to night hiking, so in fading daylight we stopped at 7:30 pm and pitched the tent thirty yards above the trail.

Day's mileage: 20.0

Day 80, August 26

We set off at 5:17 am. We had slept with our feet down hill and woke up convinced we would have been more comfortable the other way. The next few miles of going was again rugged, over slabs.

Reaching Moose Pond, I stepped through the thickets to the shore, and to my surprise, three wild ducks came close, as if wishing to be fed. I tossed them bits of our last remaining bagel and they gobbled them voraciously. One plausible theory was that they lived in a city during winter. They were dark birds, brown-grey, with very little color. Still they were quite handsome and we enjoyed their company.

At the next lake, Long Lake, we found a beautiful swimming beach with a sand bottom. The day was warm and the wind was blowing a chop our way. We enjoyed a refreshing swim. At the next lake we stopped at the Sabbath Day Pond Lean-To to sign the register and to pause before the beautiful scenery. We were glad to be hiking through Maine during the best time of year, when the bugs were few. We were not using repellent. Occasionally we would apply some, and we tried the Avon Skin-So-Soft, but found that it did not prevent bites, and that it was oily and difficult to remove.

At the next pond, Little Swift River Pond Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , we "rented" a loner aluminum row boat and took it out into the lake, past the muddy shores, for a swim. Back ashore, we collected water from a dripping spring and talked with a north-bound slack-packer, "Chaos" who was thru-hiking with her dog, "Order".

We reached Me 4 Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out at 4:30 pm. Within seconds we had snagged a ride to Rangeley, even before I had managed to don my shirt. The couple said they had lived in the area all their lives, and this was the driest summer they'd ever seen. They dropped us off in town at a bank with an outside ATM machine. We were able to obtain cash, then made it to the post office five minutes before its closing time and mailed home four rolls of exposed film and our journal.

We ate a hasty all-you-can-eat dinner, then waddled across the street to the grocery store and bought provisions. The temperature was in the low 90s, so in the shade of the building we sorted our stores and made our packs ready for the next leg. Our next stop for food, and our last resupply box pick-up, would be sixty-six miles distant, at Caratunk.

Extending our thumbs, we snagged a ride almost immediately and were whisked away in the back of a pickup truck. The fellow was going only three of the eight miles, but at least he delivered us from the town, and to where we could camp if necessary. The traffic was minimal because of the late hour, and we sat on a bridge for half an hour. Then two fellows pulled over, and drove us the remaining distance to the trailhead. With our every need met, we hiked fifteen minutes in fading daylight and made camp in a stand of evergreen. We did not write in the journal because of a loud report of a nearby gunshot that suggested we lay low and keep quiet.

Day's mileage: 18.9

thoughts: trail construction on the northern AT is extremely difficult and expensive because of the confusion of mixed hardwood roots and to a lesser extent, the rocks. In fact, the hardwoods prevent trail construction. The result is that the AT was never constructed - it was merely eroded by water and foot traffic along the line of least resistance - the fall line. Thus, the trails were established decades ago.

These fall line trails are even more prone to the devastating erosion by runoff during heavy rainstorms. The erosion removes the humus and soil to the bedrock, leaving the confusion of roots and rocks exposed, and yet more difficult and dangerous to hike. The contemporary Eastern hiker grew up hiking these trails and considers them traditional. Thus, improvements closely resemble the original. New trails are built on the fall line with interminable rock steps, which are likewise subject to erosion.

Notes:

Using a walking stick occupies a hand that might be better used clutching fixed objects such as rocks or trees when going steeply downhill.

Accuracy in foot placement is important on rugged terrain.

Day 81, August 27

We set off at 5:20 am after a too-warm night. We hiked up to Piazza Rock Lean-To and met a fellow who called himself "Baby Steps." He was far and away the largest hiker we'd seen, and he reinforced the theory that nearly everyone is capable of distance hiking. We enjoyed a long talk around his smokey campfire with its kettle a'boiling. (We later discovered he was faking his trekking, but even so, he was out here, enjoying the wilds.)

The sky was clear and the early morning air cool, and as we climbed Saddleback Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out the views expanded away to forever. Maine is a big state and its mountains roll away as far as the eye can see, in all directions. This section of hiking was proving our summer's most enjoyable. The alpine terrain was pristine. However, we were both sunburned from hiking all morning exposed to the sun.

The trail climbed one peak, descended to a col, and climbed the next peak; several times. So once again our legs received a good workout. The going was slow but the country was interesting.

Descending Saddleback Junior, we met a couple who called themselves "Cheerios" - thru-hikers who were today celebrating the completion of their fifth month on the trail. The woman, they believed, was the oldest woman on the trail this summer, at age 63. She carried a 35 pound pack. They set off while we filtered and drank water, and like innumerable hikers we had passed, they powerhiked ahead of us as fast as their legs could carry them. It wasn't until reaching the next shelter, Poplar Ridge Lean-To, that we caught them. We chatted awhile and regretted having to press on, for they were interesting folks.

We hiked a few more sweaty miles, then enjoyed a delightful bath in Orbeton Stream Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . The trail followed Sluice Brook, which was very beautiful and melodic, and then a mile farther it followed another pretty creek, bordered in vibrant green moss.

We finished the day climbing Spaulding Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out and stopped at 7:35 pm. We pitched the tent on the trail at the intersection with the spur trail to the summit.

Day's mileage: 18.1

Day 82, August 28

After a very good night's rest we set off at 5:33 am. We descended and traversed to the Sugarloaf Mountain Summit side trail, then began descending Sugarloaf Mountain. We were assailed with a strong and cold wind as we traversed a large, treeless patch on the mountain's flank. The sky was clouded, and foul weather appeared imminent. During the descent we met a fellow climbing up the trail who said his goal was to climb all 65 of New England's 4,000 foot peaks.

After a long descent we reached South Branch Carrabassett River Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . From there we began climbing the Crocker Mountains. The humidity was very high and we sweated profusely. Rain fell for only a few minutes and it felt good. The summit was shrouded in fog, blown by a strong wind. A ways farther we met a couple who were also bagging 4,000 footers. They were quite enthusiastic and suggested that while hiking the AT we had climbed many of the peaks, and that therefore we should carry on until we get our "4,000" patch from the AMC.

Eventually we descended to ME 27, the Stratton turnoff Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . Here the air was much warmer, made unpleasant by the high humidity. From comments in the Handbook and comments we had heard, we though we were finished climbing high peaks for awhile, despite the obvious fact that more stood in our path. As expected, the trail started climbing again and could only remind ourselves of the advice: "Don't let anyone tell you it gets any easier."

After climbing another peak we descended to Horns Pond and Lean-Tos. The camp spring was dry so we collected water from the pond. We climbed another peak, South. From the bottom, the sky was dark with clouds. Forty-five minutes later the sky had cleared, sparing us from a dismal ascent. Once above treeline on yet the next peak, Bigelow Mtn. West Pk. Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , we took the brunt of a very strong and cold wind that made the climbing precarious. The view from the summit was majestic: more large lakes away to the north.

Descending into the mountain's lee and within a stone's throw of Myron H. Avery Lean-To, we made camp 30 feet off the trail on a nice tent site, at 7:15 pm.

Day's mileage: 20.2

Day 83, August 29

We set off at 5:30 am. The morning was cold and we dressed in all we had. I was a little sorry I had abandoned my sweater back in Rangeley. We spoke with some folks at the Avery Lean-To as they sat in their sleeping bags. We climbed Avery Peak Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , which again offered superlative views in all directions. The frigid wind discouraged our lingering, so we descended the far side. The trail zig-zagged through a boulder garden and then addressed Little Bigelow Mountain. At the turnoff to Little Bigelow Lean-To, we were finishing lunch when two of the hikers from the Avery lean-To caught up with us. We talked with them for awhile while they pulled out their lunch grub. The fellow had a large jar of mayonnaise, and the woman was scooping peanut butter with a metal spoon.

From this point the trail changed character. It descended to Flagstaff lake which was beset with quite a chop. Then the trail led gently for most of the day. We could hardly believe we were following the AT. Once, the trail even went around a mountain. Had the trail planners gone daft?

The day was cool and the humidity much lower. It was a day made for hiking and the terrain and trail certainly complemented the weather. It was one of our best days on the AT.

At West Carry Pond Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , which is actually a large and beautiful lake, Jenny went for a swim while I washed my socks. Then at East Carry Pond, another large and very beautiful lake, I went for a swim at a sandy beach.

We hiked throughout the afternoon to Pierce Pond lean-to and found ten or fifteen hikers enjoying a roaring campfire. Here we were three and a half miles south of the Kennebec River, meaning that many of these hikers could have been weekenders. We followed the trail as it led along the lake's outlet creek as it descended the length of a steep canyon. Camping was difficult to find and we hiked until 7:34 pm when we pitched the tent a short ways above the trail on a knoll of Jenny's finding.

Day's mileage: 25.6

Day 84, August 30

We set off at 6:00 am and hiked about one and half miles down to the Kennebec River Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . Jenny had carried a fording staff from the hills. I found one on the shore. We found no others on either bank. A fording staff must be longer and much stronger than a hiking staff. A ski pole would be next to useless. Bracing in the current, one could easily snap a ski pole.

We left the trail at the canoe landing and turned left, following the rocky, muddy shore two-tenths mile upriver to the gravel bars, which were exposed, if only just. We removed our pants and socks but left our shoes on. The water to the first bar was mid-calf deep. The submerged river rocks were smooth, rounded and extremely slippery with algae. We relied on the fording staves heavily to remain upright.

The water to the second bar was mid-thigh deep and somewhat swift. From there we waded upstream perhaps forty yards in knee-deep and swift water. Once, the water was crotch-deep. We walked slowly, braced ourselves with our staves, and simply let our feet slide off the rocks and land where they would, while we watched the far shore to maintain equilibrium. From our furthest point upstream, we shuffled toward shore in strong current in knee-deep water.

Once ashore we rejoined the trail and followed it to US 201, then walked three-tenths mile through the town of Caratunk. This was a quiet little place replete with old buildings. Some had dates posted on them that went back to the 1800s. We reached the Store at 7:30. The store was not well stocked, but we managed to buy milk and cereal, donuts and canned applesauce and pears for breakfast and sat outside in our wet shoes, feeling chilled.

The Post Office Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out and opened at 8:00 am and we received our resupply box and a packet of mail from home. The sun appeared over the tree tops and very shortly drove us into the shade. One of the north-bound hikers we had met a few days ago, appeared on the scene, looking not in the least tired. He acted a little embarrassed to see us, and said he had to get a ride to here, to collect his resupply box. When we had first met him lounging at one of the huts, not far from a road, I mentioned to Jenny that he had not convinced me he was hiking the trail, as he had claimed. The fellow knew all the hikers from meeting them at the huts. He knew all about the trail from listening to hikers talk about it, and from studying his maps. And he had sent himself resupply boxes to all the stations. He was doing the trail, but he was not hiking it. However, I consider this not cheating. Rather, he was simply doing his own thing.

The trail was unlike yesterday's sections, and more like the previous days' with a lot of ups and downs and much galumphing. The weather was warm and we sweated greatly, and except for one nice creek the water sources were extremely limited.

Reaching Moxie Pond, we were eager for a swim and a drink, but were disappointed that the water was unfit for drinking and its bottom too muddy for swimming. We hiked a couple more miles to Joes Hole Brook Lean-To and collected water of barely acceptable quality from the nearby stream. Had we not been so thirsty we would not have drank such water.

After a long climb we obtained the summit of Moxie Bald Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , where we paused to watch the setting sun. With the light of a near full moon we descended half way to Bald Mountain Pond, then under denser tree cover we finished the descent by flashlight. At Moxie Bald Mountain Lean-to we sat talking to two south-bounders before a cheery campfire, then, at 8:20 pm, we shifted to the lakeshore where Jenny set up the tent while I collected water. As we lay writing, the night was full of sounds of loons and owls. It was good to be alive on this good Earth.

Day's mileage: 20.5

Day 85, August 31

We set off at 5:17 am beneath a cloudy sky. We were reminded of our ditty, "clear sky at night, midnight delight" inferring sudden change in weather and rude awakening with the capricious weather.

We met a couple breaking their camp. They asked where we had camped - it was a few miles back, and they were surprised we had risen so early. The woman guessed we had been hiking by flashlight and was astonished. The trail followed the West Branch of Piscataquis River for several miles in what should have been an aesthetic, easy stroll. Instead, the trail led up and down the slope repeatedly. The river was the typical dark root beer brown, like most of the water sources we had encountered in Maine. The morning was quite cool and the humidity somewhat lower. At the Piscataquis River Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out crossing Jenny went in for a bath. Rain began falling, and soon quite heavily.

We passed a few hikers, all of them admiring our umbrellas. We passed the logging road turn-off down which Monson was two miles distant, and three and four-tenths miles farther we reached ME 15 Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , at 1:40 pm. We had walked half a mile down the highway when the driver of a pickup truck honked his horn, slowed, and yelled he'd be back to pick us up. As he drove past we saw hikers riding in the back. When he returned five minutes later we asked if he was Mr. Shaw. He said that he was. We told him we wanted to go to the grocery store and were not planning to stay at his boarding house, of which we had heard so much. He gave us a lift to the store, and then offered repeatedly that we could stay at his place. He refused payment for the ride.

Eighty nine dollars and one hour later, we had four sacks of groceries sorted and crammed into our packs and stomachs, at least as much as would fit. The remainder we carried in plastic grocery sacks. We walked half a mile back toward the AT, then stopped at Sal's Grocery for a pizza. We walked another mile before catching a ride, but it took one more stint of walking and a final ride to return us to the AT at 4:10 pm, where we had left it two and one-half hours earlier. Our last ride was from a day-hiker we had met earlier. She was driving home, but when she saw us walking along the road she turned around and gave us a lift back up to the trail-head.

After passing a foreboding sign warning hikers entering the Hundred Mile Wilderness to carry at least ten days of food, we hiked the remainder of the evening with our four day supply, and stopped at 7:20 pm, about one-and-a-half miles past the outlet of North Pond.

Day's mileage: 25.1

Rain began falling soon after we retired, and continued throughout the night, sometimes heavily. For half an hour the sky incandesced in a stupendous display of lightning.

Day 86, September 1

We set off at 5:38 am. We had reset our alarms from 4:40 am to 5:00 because of the later dawn, which now occurred at 5:50. We packed from within the tent, then sprung out and packed the tent. The rain had finished and we walked in tree-drip, glad once again for our umbrellas. Perhaps the result of the copious rain, we passed half a dozen nice creeks, the first we had seen in a long while. By late morning the clouds had broken. We stopped at a pleasing creek flowing down bedrock, and aired the tent fly. The hiking was not easy, always climbing or descending, so our progress was less than hoped. The trail led steeply up Barren Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , in typical AT straight-up-the-fall-line fashion, and from there it remained on the ridge line, galumphing up, down, over and around.

By afternoon the sky had cleared, yet the day was cool and the humidity lower. We met only one other hiker, a south-bounder, but then in the evening we met fourteen hikers at the Chairback Gap Lean-To. We collected water at the shelter's spring, then climbed Chairback Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out and stopped at 7:35 pm, pitching the tent on a dense patch of knee-high bushes, of all things. It was one of the more unusual tent sites in our experience. The bedding proved very comfortable and seamed to provide exceptional insulation.

Day's mileage: 21.1

Day 87, September 2

Arising with the alarm, in the dim half-light of an early mountain-top dawn, we shifted our belongings to the trail - in order to prevent loosing something in the underbrush. There we loaded our packs. We set off at 5:24 am under a perfectly clear sky, while admiring a beautiful crimson eastern sky. The trail worked its way downward with much galumphing. After we waded the Pleasant River Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , mid calf deep, we wandered through the Hermitage, a beautiful stand of white pine standing tall and straight. in the Colonial days these trees were used as ship's masts, it is said.

A few miles farther along we met with an astounding scene straight out of the book "Blind Courage." Bill Irwin, himself, and his dog Orient came hiking down the trail, fully outfitted for distance hiking. We talked for fifteen minutes. Initially Orient lay quietly, but then the dog grew increasingly restless, urging Bill to quit gabbing and to get on with the trek. I couldn't tell how Bill knew the dog was urging him to get moving, but to get the dog to quit bugging him, he occasionally prodded the dog gently with a trekking pole. This meeting was one of the highlights of our trek. We would have liked to talk for hours, but all of us (especially Orient) needed to be moving along. So with "God bless you's" all around we reluctantly parted company. incidentally, Bill and Orient had thru-hiked the AT in 1990, and at this time were repeating the 100 mile wilderness.

The trail climbed several mountains in succession, and from near the top or Gulf Hagas Mtn Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . we saw Katahdin for the first time, standing unmistakably to the northeast. Then, just beyond the summit of White Cap Mountain we enjoyed spectacular views of Katahdin and the entirety of the intervening territory.

We had passed a group of perhaps fifteen students from Colby College, heading for the next hut. At the hut there were four hikers in residence. Half a mile beyond the hut we met another group of fifteen students headed for the hut. Apparently the college sends the students in groups to get acquainted, which seemed like a good idea, but for the overcrowding in the shelter.

Reaching Mountain View Pond Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out near dusk, we saw strange rippling in the water. We imagined ducks had just flown away. Imagine our surprise when a moose head emerged from the depths of the middle of the pond, only to submerge again. The animal acted more like a hippo, and sounded like one - breathing and splashing. It had not yet discovered us, and was apparently enjoying its evening's bath. Another moose climbed out of the water and sauntered into the forest. Hoping not to disturb these beautiful creatures too much, we left the trail and retired quietly into the forest and pitched the tent at 7:15 pm.

Day's mileage: 21.3

Day 88, September 3

We packed in a light rain and set off at 5:24 am, trying to regain our bearings and find the trail. After climbing the small Little Boardman Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , we descended to Crawford Pond, where we collected water (our first water source in twenty hours) and ate cereal. From there the trail was fairly level. The miles began rolling by and we couldn't have been more pleased. Rain fell heavily for fifteen minutes and the trees dripped for another half an hour.

We met a nice couple from Tennessee who were hiking the AT in sections: one per year. We talked for ten minutes. We have been meeting a lot of nice folks in Maine. At 11:00 we met a south-bounder carrying what we had been told was an 80 pound pack, and wearing Gore-Tex parka and pants. He had hiked half a mile from his camp so far this morning. We were dressed in shorts and light shirts, carried maybe 14 pound packs, and had hiked thirteen miles so far this morning. The fellow greeted us perfunctorily, and left us with the feeling that because we were not seriously equipped, we were not in his class.

The trail passed a couple of large and scenic lakes, then followed Nahmakanta Stream for a few miles. Here, the mosquitoes prompted us to apply some repellent. We met a German couple from Berlin and enjoyed a long conversation while hiking at their pace. Jan was an exchange student at MIT.

Leaving them, we hiked ahead and eventually reached a beach side spring at Nahmakanta Lake. It is hard to imagine a spring in beach sand, but there it was: two shallow pools of cold and delicious spring water. Jenny had bathed earlier, and I did so in this lake. We pressed on to the summit of Nesuntabunt Mountain Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out , which we reached at 7:45 pm in darkness and cloud. After we had descended by flashlight, we stopped at 8:18 pm and made camp next to the trail.

Day's mileage: 30.0

Day 89, September 4

Rain fell throughout the night, sometimes hard. We set off at 5:21 am, beneath umbrellas to ward off tree drips, and then later, to ward off the drizzle and rain. Unlike yesterday, the going was much slower, over slippery rocks and roots, and the trail was more a long series of mud puddles. We passed by several small ponds, and on the opposite shore of one of the smaller ponds we saw a deer - the first we had seen in many weeks. We had seen the occasional deer tracks and bear tracks, as well as moose tracks galore.

Eventually we reached the west end of Rainbow lake as the clouds were beginning to lift. We collected water at a remarkable spring Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out a few miles later. It was five feet in diameter, with good flow and a pipe. The whole affair was only five feet above the lake level. The lake was gorgeous - large and clear, the clearest we had seen. During the day we met one south-bound thru-hiker, four south-bound section hikers, and no other north-bounders.

We reached Rainbow Ledges Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out and found the summit slabs dry, so we spread our gear to dry. Just then the sun came out briefly, but soon a light drizzle prompted us to stow the sleeping quilt. We managed to dry everything else, and the quilt was not wet. Apparently the humidity had not been high the previous night during the heavy rain, for we noticed very little condensation.

From Rainbow Ledges we could see only the base of Katahdin; its upper portion was covered in moiling cloud. Still, the breaking cloud cover gave us hopes for a nice summit day the following day. After galumphing a boggy trail a few miles downhill, we reached Abol Bridge and the campground store Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out . The proprietor was very friendly toward us when she learned we were thru-hikers. We bought microwaved sandwiches and magnum-sized fresh donuts, and a small load of supplies. With very few miles remaining in our journey, we had to resist the usual urge to buy a great load of provisions.

An hour later we resumed the journey. The trail followed a road a mile or so, passed through mosquito infested wetlands, and then led alongside the Penobscot River, which was larger than one would try to ford. We bathed in the river, hoping not to smell so bad for the morrow's hitch hiking. We carried on a few more miles, climbing gradually while following lesser rivers swollen by the recent rain. Darkness found us crossing the occasional creek on logs, flashlight in mouths. We stopped at 8:28 pm and pitched the tent beside the trail.

Day's mileage: 24.4

Jenny's comment of the day: "Meeting south-bounders is great, but I wouldn't want to be in their shoes, knowing what they have in store."

Day 90, September 5

After a rainless night we set off at 4:55 am and hiked by flashlight over roots, rocks and around mud puddles. At Daicey pond Campground we lost the trail and searched far and wide until finding a map of the area posted on an information board. Back on track, we hiked another few miles, now in rain. We worried that the inclement weather would prompt the rangers to close the mountain to hikers.

Walking into the Katahdin Stream Campground Click on "trail segment"
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then zoom out beneath umbrellas, we saw several people milling about in their foul weather gear, obviously about to climb Katahdin. We signed in and started up the peak. while walking past a few covered picnic tables I called to a hiker that had "that" look about him, asking if he was a thru-hiker. "Not any more," came the reply, indicating that he had recently completed his journey. Suddenly it occurred to me that we, too, would soon no longer be thru-hikers. Pitty, for we had grown rather fond of the appellation.

A quarter mile farther we stashed our packs deep in the forest. Continuing on, we expected to be able to hike much faster without our loads, but to our surprise the hiking was as taxing and slow as ever. Our packs were not heavy, perhaps only ten pounds each, which included a day's supply of food. Nevertheless, we hiked with alacrity, eager to reach journey's end. The trail was steep and the air chilly. Three hikers were leap-frogging us, power hiking and resting; we hiked more slowly but steadily and eventually left them behind.

Above timberline the route led up rocks and boulders that required scrambling hand and foot. The morning grew windy and frigid, and we could not stay warm, despite our exertions. I thought that we might have to descend and await better weather. We had no warm clothes, except for polyester shirts. I wore only a wind breaker and shorts, and we carried a lunch sack with sandwiches and cookies. In a pocket I carried my journal/money bag. Jenny carried the camera, and we both carried umbrellas, which were our sole protection from the elements. We rested only once, in the shelter of boulders, eating a sandwich, each, which then imparted a bit of warmth.

Pressing on into dense fog, we climbed with a will. The ascent suddenly eased, and the trail led another one and a half miles, past Thoreau Spring where we drank from our palms. And then the summit signs appeared out of the gloom, and we finished our AT quest - the summit of Katahdin Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out - hand in hand.

The blustery wind and complete lack of view discouraged our lingering. Three other hikers sat crouched behind some rocks, so after asking one of them to take a few pictures of us with our camera, we sprang down the trail in glee, like a couple of school children released from a long school term. Other hikers were lumbering up the trail, and we could have used a large banner proclaiming our success. In fact, the day was Sunday of the Labor Day weekend, and throughout the morning we encountered a few hundred summiters of all ages and descriptions.

Near Thoreau Spring Click on "trail segment"
select "terrain"
then zoom out one fellow asked, "Finished it, huh?" Then, "Are you the Jardines?" Warren Doyle introduced himself, saying he had noticed our sign-in down at the campground. There in freezing wind we talked for 45 minutes, and in that short time my eyes were opened to the AT world I had failed to see in the past 2,169 miles. Warren had thru-hiked the AT 9 times, so far, had held the speed record, and had formed ALDHA some eleven years previously. He invited us to ride in one of his school vans to Bangor, and we were happy to take advantage of this excellent opportunity.

As we descended further, the sky suddenly appeared, revealing stunning views of the steep mountain - peaks to one side, and sprawling lakelands to the other. The descent was a joy. Liberated at last from our long tenure we fairly bounded down the slopes, clambered down the rocks, and stopped occasionally to greet someone climbing upwards. We enjoyed their company. Everyone was friendly, and we infused several tired ones with the beauty of the mountain and the merits of a successful ascent.

Retrieving our packs, we soon reached the campground and claimed one of the covered picnic tables. Asking around, we soon found Warren Doyle Sr. and one of the school vans. He, and a few others, sat with us for a few hours, awaiting the group's return. Finally, at 6:30 pm, we all rode to the town of Millinocket, where our group of 40 people filed into a pizza parlor for dinner. On the road again, we drove to Bangor, and Warren was kind enough to drive us a mile out of his way, to the turn off to the airport. On our feet again, we walked a few hundred yards into a field, and at midnight pitched our tent in a grove of chest high white pine.

Day's mileage: 15.0

Ironically, we enjoyed one of our better night's sleep, this on a bed of thick, matted grasses in the midst of the city.

Epilogue

What a joy, hiking this trail.

And what a joy to revel in another glorious summer afoot. What I like best is not having a car to return to. All our energies are focused ahead. Ahead, we hike, dawn to dusk, and we make our camp wherever nightfall finds us.

After hiking 30 or so miles, we awake feeling refreshed and ready to make more miles. Yes, we love to hike; we love migrating from point A to distant point B. When we first started, years ago, distance backpacking was more difficult, slogging along in heavy, clumsy boots like deep-sea divers and carrying ponderous backpacks like mules. Now we hike in running shoes; and fully loaded, our packs weigh nine pounds apiece, not counting food (which we are sometimes without), and not counting water (which we rarely carry), and not counting all that junk that we used to consider vital to comfort and survival. We made most of our gear ourselves, custom to our needs - which are not great.

Yes, it was a joy hiking this trail, admiring the scenery and the interesting plants and trees, and encountering the animals. And most importantly, meeting the other hikers and the friendly townspeople along the way. Truly, it was an enriching summer afoot.

- Ray and Jenny Jardine

For the record:
June 8, 10:30 am to Sep 5, 10:15 am:
= 89 full days.
Number of full layover days: 2.
Number of days with rain: 28.

Approximately:
1 month from Springer to Pearsiburg, VA.
1 month from Pearsiburg, VA to Kent, CT.
1 month from Kent, CT to Katahdin.