Category: 2018 Appalachian Trail

I’m old. I know it. I also know there’s not a lot I know. At least I know that. One thing I do know for sure, though, is that our current sleep system is not warm enough for us in Maine. I even boiled a liter of water last night before I got in bed. Really, it is warm enough if a person can get in bed and stay in bed all night. I’m a 55 year old man (as of six days ago; maybe I just haven’t gotten used to the new age yet) and sleeping through the night is not an option. I think the only time in the last 239 days when I made it through the night without getting up to pee was when we were in New Jersey and I was severely dehydrated and heat exhausted (ahh, the good ole days). Maybe if I had a better sleeping pad (no, I’m not going to start bashing Big Agnes again), our quilts might be enough. Bottom line, I’m glad we’ve only got two more nights to go.

A cold night combined with an overcrowded campground causes people to sleep in. If everyone sleeps in rather than the usual staggered approach to getting up, an interesting phenomenon occurs. Something that, surprisingly enough, doesn’t happen that often on this 2190.9 mile trail. A line forms for the privy. I kept heading across the camp to grab my moment of silence only to find the crapper (thank you Thomas Crapper for your lovely invention) occupied. Being naive to bathroom lines, I would leave thinking I’d return when the current occupant was finished only to find someone else had beaten me to the (next) push. After falling for this trick 3 times, I decided to stake a claim and form a line. 20 minutes later I got my turn. No sooner had my pants met my ankles than Bunny shows up at the privy and starts complaining about how long I take to go. Her loud complaining combined with the knowledge of 3 more people behind me, killed the moment for me. I’d have to give up my warm seat (yes, there had been that much traffic) and try again later. We were the absolute last people to leave camp today. 

To give an idea of how late we were leaving camp today, we met a sobo couple that had just finished the PCT and decided to come to Maine to hike the hundred mile wilderness to decide if they wanted to hike the AT next year. They started this morning hiking south from Abol Bridge. This is where we plan to stop today. They had already hiked 15 miles and we haven’t even gotten started. 

Bear, Sassy, and GCN waited for us to catch up. We are all feeling excited about having the end in sight, but not overly hurried to be done. Once again, we had another great day of hiking with almost no elevation gain. It looks like all the normal climbing we have come to expect on the AT has been postponed for our final day. For now, just another level day walking lakeside in Maine and enjoying the fall colors reflecting off of the lakes. We are careful to not let Bunny lead. However, we do all take turns screaming “Oh my gawd! Isn’t this beautiful?” to let Bunny know how much we admire her enthusiasm. 

The only climb of significance today is up Rainbow Ledges. When we got to the top, we found several hikers sitting in the sun not wanting their trail life to end, either. This was also the last chance for us to make a phone call to Baxter State Park to make campground reservations for tomorrow night. Once we had a campsite secured, I had to let Peter know the campsite number so he can camp with us tomorrow night. He stubbed his toe in their recent move and still hasn’t decided if he’s going to summit Katahdin with us in two days. 

Once our business was completed, we decided to move on. Rainbow Ledges was nice and colorful, but we were disappointed that we couldn’t see Mount Katahdin because of the trees. That is, until we emerged onto some exposed rocks with a break in the trees. This was our third opportunity to see the end point of our journey. Today would be the perfect day to finish with clear skies and moderate temperatures. The weather report for tomorrow doesn’t look good, but our day looks a bit better. We’re hopeful for a nice day on Wednesday. 

We’ve got less than 6 miles until we are out of the last hurdle, and it’s almost all easy downhill. We stopped at Hurd Brook Lean-to for a late lunch and we all started getting a little nostalgic. When we started the trail way back in February, we made note of all the “firsts” we were experiencing: the first stream, the first bridge, the first shelter, the first time we camped, the first time we dug a hole to poop, etc. Now we’re keeping track of our lasts. That was the last downhill we’ll have on the trail. This is the last lean-to we will eat in. This is the last packet of tuna I will ever eat, etc. 

And then we were exiting the hundred mile wilderness. Just like that, the portion that is compared to Mirkwood Forest is now behind us. We survived the trolls, ferries, and giant spiders without incident. We passed the sign saying we were leaving and came on to a gravel road. Now we just have to cross the famous Abol Bridge before we enter Baxter. 

Abol Bridge is a major landmark for thru-hikers. It’s just about over except for Baxter. I was expecting a magnificent, golden bridge comparable to crossing into the Emerald City of Oz. What I saw was pretty much a one lane bridge that was architecturally functional yet insignificant. Like all of our trails, the ending will probably be another let down. I’ll bet the marching band won’t even show up when we summit Wednesday. 

I walked from the trees out on to the bridge and then realized this is not just an ordinary bridge. This is a bridge that doesn’t need architectural significance. This is a bridge with a full frontal of Katahdin. THIS, is the money shot blown over all our faces. We have arrived, but Katahdin has come. 

A couple of guys in a pickup truck stopped and walked up to us. We started a conversation with them. I know it’s hard to believe Bear and I can come out of our shells and talk to random strangers, but, it happens. One of the guys is a chef, Rico, for the NPS at Acadia and the other guy with the truck is one of his suppliers. They decided to take advantage of an off day and drive out to Baxter. When they found out we were thru-hikers finishing up, they offered us beers. GCN and Bunny had run ahead to the store so I didn’t think of begging beers for them (an error of omission for which I will be paying for quite a while, I didn’t get my wife a beer when she doesn’t really drink that much). 

Bunny and Chip were afraid the store might close soon and wanted to get some food if it was still available. The restaurant has already closed for the season and the store is about to follow suit but it’s still got snacks and drinks. We decide to buy a bunch of junk food for supper (plus a beer for Bunny since she didn’t get a free one, maybe a tall boy will get me back in good standing). As we were paying and asking about camping in the area because we weren’t sure where we were supposed to, the cashier told us the camping prices here and in the state campground down the road. As we were trying to decide where we were going to head to, she let slip “we also have little cabins for just about $8 a piece more.”

I don’t know much, as I stated before, but I do know our wives will gladly opt for the cabins and I’d be relieved for any addition warmth or protection. We got a 6 person cabin for the 5 of us. She even one upped it and gave us the one closest to the shower house with hot showers and flushing toilets. Nirvana!

Our next to last night on trail turned out to be a bit nicer than expected. We headed to our cabin but missed the sign that said not to cook in them until after we’d all made supper. As a bonus, I got 2/3 of a tall boy. We could splurge and eat as much food as our stomachs would hold because the store will be open at 7 allowing us to get coffee and more junk for the road. Tie my face to a hog and roll me in the mud, life is good at the end of the trail. 

EFG

Breakfast is served promptly at 6:30 so we can be out of the camp and back on the trail by 8:30. We had talked to Linda last night and she told us the deadlines were not going to be a problem for our group. The tight deadlines are in place to get problem people on the move in the mornings. Some kids seem to be unable to make decisions for themselves or are incapable of moving unless pushed. We’ve encountered people like this. It was agreed that we could take our time since we would have a boat ride to ourselves.

Last night, while we were talking to Peter, he told us a story about the north woods that will help us to remember the name of the lake we are staying on. The original camp in this area had a cook named Pem. He was completely inept and just plain stupid. He’d lose his way constantly just walking across camp. The lake was named in his honor—Pem, a dumb cook, aka Pemadumcook Lake.

Breakfast is an AYCE pancakes and coffee, with a serving of sausage, eggs, and juice. There’s no reason to walk away hungry and I didn’t. Bunny noticed an explosives box next to the wood burning stove. This only reignited her demands to see a moose. I stood my ground and told her she would have to do her own dirty work, I was not going to lay a finger on Good Chip Norris. She cut me!

Some people give Bill a hard time saying he’s not friendly. This is not true at all. I relate to Bill quite a bit. He has narrow focus like me. He gets a task on his mind and that is what he concentrates on. He doesn’t bounce back and forth or exchange pleasantries while he is on task. He and Linda built this camp entirely by themselves. This is their home, year round, off the grid. He was telling me about how they deal with winter conditions having to park a car 15 miles away from the house and snowmobile to it to get groceries. Some hikers have complained about how expensive it is to stay here. That’s not true. It is fair priced for the work involved. This is not a hostel but a working backwoods camp. Having said that, I would recommend everyone not on a tight budget to make the trip over for a night if hiking through the 100 mile wilderness.

We weren’t the last ones to leave. Nor were we the first. Bill made a run before breakfast to run a couple guys that are trying to finish up their hike in the next two days. As usual, GCN was the first packed and ready to go. Bunny and I weren’t far behind. Guess who was last. While we were waiting for the boat to return to take us back across the lake, GCN and I played fetch. I’d throw the stick for him to retrieve, but this damn dog kept running and getting it before Chip could. I guess his knees are slowing him down. 

Maine has been, and continues to be very nice to us. Bunny, as of recent times, has got us all on edge. It started a couple of days ago when the colors really became vibrant. She was out front leading, climbed over a hill out of our sight, and started screaming. We all panicked to run to her aide only to find her in a state of joyful excitement. She had screamed “OH MY GAWD! ISN’T THIS BEAUTIFUL?” I’ve often complained that Bunny has one scream, good or bad.  I’ve nearly wrecked the car several times when she sees a rabbit on the side of the road and screams in joy. She screams so loud that I think we’re about to get ran over by a semi. 

Today was the height of color and the height of Bunny screaming. Every hill that lead to a color change—“OH MY GAWD! ISN’T THIS BEAUTIFUL?” Every overlook—“OH MY GAWD! ISN’T THIS BEAUTIFUL?” Trail magic—“OH MY GAWD! ISN’T THIS BEAUTIFUL?” In all fairness, the last example was me. I still get pumped when I run across my 3 favorite words on the trail…”Hikers, Free Food.” Bunny was relatively quiet about the food. “How can you possibly eat again, already?”

Flying Albatross, who had lashed the AT in back to back years, and his son were out making chili for thru-hikers. They had cokes (sodas to the non-midwesterner readers), a huge pot of chili, chairs, and a campfire. We ran into hikers we didn’t even know were on the trail. Lately, we haven’t been running into many people during the day, but put out free food and it’s like turning on a bright porch light on a hot summer night. The moths come out. 

The 3 bowls of chili and 2 cokes (translated as Cokes) sat pretty heavy on my stomach. We stopped at the lean-to just a couple miles down the trail after the magic. This was Wadleigh Stream Lean-to which had a memorial to a thru-hiker that died near this shelter in 2011. He was just 38 miles shy of finishing his third thru-hike. I felt sorry for Buffalo Bobby, but I was quite psyched to hear we were only 38 miles from being done.

I was really starting to drag during our only climb of the afternoon up Nesuntabunt Mountain. We got to the top and could see the bottom half of Katahdin—“OH MY GAWD! ISN’T THIS BEAUTIFUL?” The clouds were surrounding the summit of the mountain on the other side of the lake. We had a sunshiney day with almost no clouds. What clouds that are around seem to be hanging out on Katahdin.

Coming down the mountain,we started to spread out a bit. We waited at the road for a while for everyone to catch up. It was now Good Chips Norris’ turn to fall behind a bit.  While we were waiting for him, another hiker we met at the last shelter passed us. He asked if we had seen the moose. “What moose?” “The one standing right next to the shelter. I figured you had to see it. I tried to leave right after you guys left but I couldn’t because he was blocking the trail.” He showed us a picture—“OH MY GAWD! ISN’T THIS BEAUTIFUL?” Followed by “NNNOOOOOO”

We still had another 5 miles to go for our target shelter for tonight. The plan was 15 miles today and tomorrow with a 10 mile day to get to the campground in Baxter leaving us just 5 miles to finish the trail on Wednesday, 10/10. That would put us on top of Katahdin leaving us another 5 miles to hike back down, but those miles don’t count because we only count trail miles. 

GCN quickly caught up, and passed, Bunny and me. We were the last (as usual) to get to the shelter. Bear and Sassy already had their tent set up. The area was quite crowded. I had no idea there were still so many people on the trail. The shelter was completely full and there were, easily, 10 tents in the area. I let Bunny find us a spot. She has a nose for finding spots. I also have a nose for finding spots that she doesn’t approve of, so I no longer try.

She found a fantastic spot nestled in the trees and shrubs. We were just about 20’ from Bear and Sassy, but you’d have no idea we were even around anyone. It was like a private room in the trees. Because of its location in the woods, I decided to go ahead and hang a bear bag tonight. This may come as a shock, but last to arrive equals last to eat and last to bed. I guess I’ll never have to worry about being healthy, wealthy, and wise.

EFG

I went to bed preoccupied with Bunny’s edict—“I want to see a moose no matter what it takes!” She’s a scary woman when she has her mind made up. Thoughts were running through my mind: “Bunny MUST see a moose…Good Chip Norris must die…It’s a killer bunny with huge nasty teeth…Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat…Bring out your dead. I’m not dead yet. You’re not fooling anyone…Chip is a good guy, but I wonder whatever happened to Mike, Robbie, and Uncle Charlie…I don’t want to kill Good Chip Norris. Let’s get Mikey, he won’t try it. He hates everything…Rosebud…You’ve got to think like a gopher; act like a gopher; and whenever possible, look like a gopher…The King must die; long live the King.” 

Sadly, this is pretty much my normal thought flow, but I didn’t get a tremendous amount of sleep. Maybe Nostradumbass was wrong. Chorris might be able to live and us still see a moose if…if he were just to get abducted for a while. There’s got to be a way. I’m sure an opportunity will present itself. I should listen to Eckhart Tolle and just live in the moment. That is the true essence of long distance hiking. Live in the moment. Don’t try to figure out answers to problems when you’re hiking. People will die or be abducted rather you dream of it or not. Don’t worry, be happy. 

We got trail magic even before we got camp tore down. As soon as I stepped out of the tent, Bear saw me and said there’s magic just a few feet down the trail. I would have rather had less eye contact because I had to pee really bad, but Bear was excited. I danced for a second while I said “thanks” hoping Bear would give me a moment. He maintained eye contact and said “it’s really good. He’s got all kinds of food.” I couldn’t take it any longer, I unzipped and kept eye contact. It didn’t deter him. “I even got an avocado.” 🎶 Let it rain. Let it rain. Open the floodgates of heaven. Lift your voice and sing it again. Let it rain. 🎶

After I was done raining, I headed up to the magic. The guy had just finished his thru-hike a few days ago. He collected everyone’s extra food before he went home to New Hampshire to get his car. He drove back up to Maine where he was out giving all the extra food away. He barely had enough money for gas to drive up here, but he wasn’t ready to be done with trail life yet. He talked the toll guide into waving the $10 toll to get on Jo-Mary Road, explaining he was just out for trail magic. Sometimes the AT really grabs hold of someone and doesn’t let go. Completing a thru-hike IS a big deal. For a lot of people it’s the accomplishment of a lifetime. This guy was definitely in its hold. He’s just the type of guy that would be willing to help fellow thru-hikers on a quest to see a moose. I started to ask him if he would do me a favor when GCN walked up. 

I went back to finish packing up and eating. Bear and Sassy were already done and headed back to the magic to join GCN. Bunny even headed over leaving me to fold up the tent, saying that I had taken too much time already. I folded up the tent, by myself, and packed up before I joined everyone and had a “magic” espresso—not THAT magical. Nothing psychedelic. I mean a free, trailside expresso that someone gave Bunny but she wouldn’t drink because he didn’t have steamed milk and sugar to make it palatable to her. Despite what she says, Bunny doesn’t like the taste of coffee. 

It was only 4 miles before we all arrived at Antlers Campsite on the shore of Jo-Mary Lake. The main attraction here was Fort Relief, aka, the privy. We all had a go at the fort which did live up to its name. While we were waiting our turn at relief, we struck up a conversation with an ex-military pilot that was solo hiking the hundred mile wilderness. He had been out 5 days so far and had not been able to call home because he didn’t have Verizon. We all finished up and moved on while GCN stayed behind to lend him his phone. I thought the military guy might be a bit off, so I was torn between leaving Chip behind or, possibly, having an answer to the Chorris problem. Would phone hostage be enough to settle the Nostradumbass dilemma?

The trail today was all lakeside and level. Bear and I were out front talking and enjoying a truly easy day of hiking. We came upon an amazing sign of plenty that we were not expecting to encounter in the hundred mile wilderness. This stretch has been held up to thru-hikers as wilderness unparalleled on the eastern coast, yet here we stood in awe of a campsite with, not one, but two, pit latrines. One of which was even sporting lace curtains. We must be hallucinating. 

As Bear and I continued walking, I noticed a small sign on a tree with the words Katahdin View and an arrow. I wasn’t expecting much because we were still almost 50 miles away. We dropped our packs and walked the short side trail to the beach of another lake. As soon as we stepped on to the beach, we had the same reaction—“Holy shit! Look at that!” Katahdin could not only be seen, it filled the northern sky. Bunny and I had skipped coming to Baxter State Park 3 years ago when we were visiting Peter and Marcia because we didn’t want to see Katahdin until we were hiking towards it. This is it. We were in awe. We are going to make it. We are going to be what I’ve only dreamt of for years…Appalachian Trail thru-hikers. 

We ran back to the trail waiting for Good Chip Norris, Sassy, and Bunny to catch up. This is a pivotal trail moment that we all wanted to share together. Bunny be damned, GCN is going to finish the trail with us as a member of our trail family. We will not see a moose and that’s perfectly fine. We stood on the beach all pretending to be the Babe pointing at center field as to where, not the ball, but we will soon be.

We were in such an adrenaline rush, I barely remember walking the final 2 miles to Mahar Tote Road. What could possibly be better than our first sight of Katahdin on a clear day? Then we saw something equally amazing just as we were approaching the dock where we were to be picked up and whisked across the lake to Whitehouse Landing. It was a sight that made me miss Stickers, Little Blue, and Mizman. At the bottom of the sign for Whitehouse Landing was the phrase “free joint to all visitors over 21.” It brought a tear to my eye. How can you “Make America great again” when it already is?

We got to the dock where Good Chip Norris whipped out his moneymaker and called for a ride. Bill was there to pick us up in less than 15 minutes. I have dreamt about this excursion for years. The five of us were flying across the lake at the astounding speed of 10mph. This is quite the rate when you’ve walked almost 2150 miles. Bill pulled up to his dock then walked us all up to the main building to give us the schpiel about our stay for the night. He then showed us around. Bear and Sassy had a stand-alone one room cabin with a king sized bed. Good Chip Norris got a bunk in the bunkhouse that already had 4 or 5 other hikers including The General (I’m sure it will be peaceful sleeping there tonight). Bunny and I got a single bedroom in Lakeside Cabin which had 3 bedrooms and a big common room. We had the whole place to ourselves. 

It was growing quite chilly already and it was only mid-afternoon. We hurried to get our showers and laundry done while it was still light out. Bunny and I walked around the grounds for a bit looking at the gardens, admiring the lake, and picking apples to eat as snacks for the next couple of days. The tramily assembled in the common room of our cabin where we called Peter to make plans for meeting in Baxter State Park in a mere 3 days. Peter is going to rent an SUV and spend the last night with us in Baxter. After we summit Katahdin, thus finishing our thru-hike, he will bring us all back to Portland, Maine where we’ll scatter to the winds. 

Now that we had the end plans finalized, all we had left to do was eat. Whitehouse Landing is famous for its one pound hiker burgers and my appetite was up for the challenge. It put a good dent into my hunger, but didn’t kill it. Bear let me have his leftover pizza crust and I had a couple bites of Bunny’s homemade pumpkin spice moon pie. I won’t be going to bed famished, for a change. 

EFG

I would like to be able to say that having 8 people in a 6 person shelter makes for a warm night. Maybe if it were an enclosed shelter, but there are very few of those along the AT. It was cold. And noisy. As Bear said, he woke up at one point in the night and heard a snoring wave sweeping from one of the shelter to the other. We will no longer think GCN is a loud snorer. The General blew him away with his Aussie traveling partner coming in a close second. GCN barely qualified for honorable mention (and I was lying right next to him with him snoring right into my ear). Hollywood would have died.

It was very hard to get going this morning. I made coffee for us to drink while we were in bed, but the minute it was gone, Bunny and I packed up as quickly as possible just so we could get moving to generate some body heat. I even skipped the privy so I could get moving while Bunny insisted she had to use it. For a switch, I was the first out of the shelter today.

We had 9 miles to go to meet Poet for our food drop at Kokadjo Road. Originally, we had planned to meet him at 11, but had pushed it back to 2 as of yesterday. When I left the shelter, we made plans to all catch up with each other at the next shelter in 4 miles in the hope of warmth by then. If I went fast, I might be able to get my privy time made up before everyone caught up with me.

The trail was all downhill. I had sent my thick gloves home back in VA leaving me with just a thin pair of liners. These were not enough to keep my hands warm even hiking fast. I kept switching hands into my pockets to try to warm them up. This was the coldest I’ve been since the Smokies. Although I’m not ready to be done with the AT, I am ready to be done with the cold. I can’t imagine finishing in late October if it’s already this cold on the 5th.

I know I was traveling faster than 3 mph. The trail was a very pleasant dirt track which made it possible for me to even run at times to try to get warm. As I was moving fast, I noticed the trail narrowing. I crossed a bridge over a stream and them climbed over a couple of downed trees. A few minutes later, there was no trail. I tried bushwhacking forward getting a little panicked. Here I was all by myself without a map or any navigation aide. If I got off the trail, no one would know. I was moving too fast and being stupid. Where had I lost the trail? Climbing downed trees are always a clue. Trail crews usually block old sections of trail with by placing brush piles at the junction but, sometimes, just a tree or two is all they have time for. I retraced my steps to the last known location and found the switchback I’d missed just before climbing over the first tree.

I made it the rest of the way down to the shelter without incident. Imagine being in a desert and an oasis appears in front of you a day after you’ve run out of water. That’s the feeling of joy I felt when the pit privy materialized in front of me. I can delay nature but I can’t prevent it from making its wishes known. I dropped my pack on the side of the trail and took up residence. A few minutes later I heard Bear as he passed and said he was heading to the shelter. By the time I’d finished dropping my excess weight and got to the shelter, the whole tramily was there snacking. I tried offering some chocolate to everyone. It was resoundingly turned down. I ate another bag of M&Ms completely guilt free. Timing can be everything. 

I was last leaving the shelter now because I had to get water. We all agreed to meet at Cujo Road for simplicity. Simplicity because none of us could remember the road name or how to pronounce it if we did remember it. We just had a little bump between us and it. The day was turning out to be very nice. We had blue skies and great fall colors. We all got to the peak of Little Board,an Mountain together. We were doing great on time so we stopped for a snack break. We also called ahead to Whitehouse Landing to make reservations for tomorrow night. This is an old logging camp where they come pick you up in a boat to carry you across the lake to the camp. I’ve read about this in several books and I insisted that we had to stay here. 

We decided it was every man for himself to get to Cujo Road from here. The important thing was to make sure at least one of us was present when Poet arrived. Bear took off like a bat out of hell, but GCN and I weren’t that far behind. We were all at the road eating our last bit of food when Poet showed up with our food, sodas, extra batteries, and his two kids. They went for a walk down to Crawford Pond while we repacked our food and got our garbage together. Poet and Hippie Chick home school their kids which gives them a lot of flexibility. They run Shaw’s from a June 1 to October 15 every year and then travel to Florida for the winter. They try to take some hiking vacations in the non-thru-hiking season. I think Poet teaches a bit in the winter, but they pretty much make enough money in their 4 1/2 months of 24 hour days to pay the bills for the rest of the year. The trips up to this food drop are really about the only free time either one of them gets. 

Now that the pressure was off and we’d made our food pickup, we just walked together as a group. A beautiful day hiking with new friends, telling stories, singing, and laughing. This was an ideal afternoon on the trail. We made the 3 miles to the next shelter in less than an hour. This was the AT rewarding us for all the pain we’ve gone through to make it this far. We had originally planned to stop here at Cooper Brook Fall Lean-to as an alternative leaving us about a 15 mile walk for tomorrow. Seeing as how we were all feeling good and excited about nearing the end, we decided to push on and try our luck finding some camping around Jo-Mary Road. 

The next 4 miles flew by and it was still light out when we arrived. The sun was getting lower, a chill was coming back into the air, and with all the great campsites just before the road, we called it a day. We had time to get all the work done and still wander along Copper Brook looking for a moose. Bunny said she really wanted to see a moose in spite of what she had said a couple days ago. I reminded her of what it would take for us to see a moose. She said she knew what that meant and she didn’t care what it took; she wanted to see a moose and we’re running out of time. “You’re my husband and you need to make it happen.” I shed a tear for Chip but she did what she has so often done on this trip—she slapped me and told me it’s time to man up. “Happy wife equals happy life!” I’m sorry Good Chip Norris. 

EFG

The plan was simple. There’s a really nice outhouse in the parking lot down the road. There’s a 0.3 mile side trail running to that parking lot just ahead right where we have to cross the Pleasant River. We were all wanting to visit the outhouse and cross the river together. GCN took off first, got to the trail junction, decided that he wasn’t FOS, and crossed the river. Bunny and I caught up with GCN when he was half way across. Bunny, who has zero bowel control in the mornings decides she can wait. Well at least I’ll be able to count on Sassy. She’s a double barrel morning person. I dropped my pack and proceeded with the plan. 

Let me tell you, these were the Mercedes Benz of outhouses. They had toilet paper, smelled of fresh cut cedar, were super clean, screened in eaves so no bugs could get in, and were double seaters. What’s not to love? I took my time expecting Bear and Sassy to be along shortly. I lingered. I enjoyed my quiet time. I lingered some more wishing I had brought something to read. I developed ring butt. I got tired of waiting and submitted my required paperwork before heading back to the trail. When I got there, everyone, even my own wife who said she’d wait, was across the river drying their feet and putting on their boots. This is the exact scenario all of my nightmares start with. I fall way behind, no one waits, 3 days later Bunny realizes I’m gone. 

By the time I made my way across the river, everyone was ready to go. “We’ll walk slow. You’ll catch up fast.” Code for “your history. We’ll never see you again.” Bunny said she guessed she could wait for me, if she had to. I was peeved and hurt. No one saw what were, arguably, the nicest privies in the state of Maine, and quite possibly all of the New England section of trail. I had no witnesses to verify my story and I had left my camera in my pack. What the hell, go ahead. She did!

At least I knew I had food and shelter. I could survive for up to two days on my own or just one more day with Bunny. We were down to our last day of food. In my best Gloria Gaynor voice I started singing “I will survive, hey, hey” and ran trying to catch up with everyone. I did catch up with Bunny before the side trail to the Gulf Hagas Rim Trail. I was ticked, so I just passed her and kept climbing. I’d read that Gulf Hagas was the Grand Canyon of Maine. Poet had told us to at least walk in 1/4 mile and see some of the falls. I dropped my pack by the junction and went in without saying anything to Bunny. I figured she’d drop her pack and follow. Wrong!

I did walk in about 1/2 mile to catch sight of a couple sets of water falls. They were spectacular. They were large enough to kill you if you fell into them. I was all alone. No one cares. I’m Easily Forgotten, and my wife has been introducing me as Best Forgotten. I started contemplating death. Between my vision loss in the Whites, my knees giving me trouble coming out of NH, my slow hiking, and my somewhat overactive gastrointestinal system, I’m beginning to think that I might not actually be immortal like my mind has lead me to believe. Now I can’t even trust my mind. (Honestly, this wasn’t much of a revelation, I’ve often thought it was out to get me for some time.) 

I turned back to rejoin the main trail expecting to run into Bunny. I made it all the way back to my pack and never ran into her. Surely, she saw my pack and would wait. I checked my pack and discovered half of the days snacks had been removed from my brain. (That’s the top section of my pack and not my head. Bunny can be a bit vindictive if I’ve pissed her off, but she’s no zombie.) I guess I ticked her off more than she did me. I did manage to catch up with Bunny again and decided to just walk slow and keep my mouth shut. One task was easy, the other was near impossible. 

The day had started out not bad but grew a bit cloudy while I was in Gulf Hagas. Coincidentally, this was the second great thing that only I saw today. We did manage to catch up with everyone around Gulf Hagas Mountain. No one seemed aware of my “left behind” ordeals. I was determined to not get left again. I tried to get out front just to be safe. 

There were another few mountains to cross. By the time we stopped to eat and cross West Peak and Hay Mountain, the day had started to deteriorate. By the time we were nearing the summit of White Cap Mountain, we were in a pretty strong gale and rain. We were supposed to be able to catch a glimpse of Katahdin from this string of peaks, but there was little visibility beyond the trees swaying in the cold, windy rain. We all ran across the open area on top and tried to get in a protected set of trees to wait for Chip to call about our food drop for tomorrow. We just had to confirm our meeting time which we needed to adjust back a couple of hours because of our short day on my birthday (not from the celebration where I DID share my M&Ms; everyone got an orange one, I felt it was the least I could do which is what I usually choose to do; but from the rain and cold making us stop early). Bear also needed batteries for his headlamp which Poet agreed to bring along. 

I won’t go as far as saying we were hypothermic, but we were wet and cold. Conditions were ripe for hypothermia if we didn’t dry off and get warm. The shelter already had 3 people in it and there were 5 of us. The lean-to is said to be a 6 person one, but the guys agreed that we could all squeeze in. Even GCN stayed in the shelter rather than deal with the wind. It took a while to get dried off, filter water, and eat before wedging into the shelter, but we all managed. The entire time, we could see our breaths. I know it was from the cold as we all have pretty good oral hygiene. 

A late comer to the shelter ultimately got turned away. Rather, he chose to stay in his tent in the rain after he had conducted a non-scientific poll of the number of people above 50 and the number of those who snore. I’ll share those numbers…8, and a reluctant 8. Bunny threw me under the bus once again with backing from Sassy, both of whom claimed that I snore. I want to go on the record tonight that all those times I’ve said Bear ventriloquist snored, he doesn’t. Sassy snores too. Throw ME under the bus after I shared an M&M with you 2 days ago. They…were…peanut!

EFG

It was overcast when we woke up, but it wasn’t raining. That’s a good start. The tent set up in the shelter had worked pretty well, but it did provide some extra layers for me to go through in the middle of the night when I was forced, by Bunny, to get up and make sure everything was safe and secure. Poor, confused, and disillusioned Bunny insisted we take off and look for a moose as this would be the perfect morning. Cloud Pond was fogged in so it had a very eerie feel to it. I humored her. 

I guess it’s time to fess up about the moose and how I know we’re not going to see one. Last year, when we were touring around Europe, I did some historical investigations. I’m sure just about everyone has heard of Nostradamus, the French physician, mathematician, and reputed seer who has made some spot on predictions about the rise of Napoleon, Hitler, and Stalin. I’ve always been fascinated by him. I was able to track down his Belgium cousin whose name may not be a household name, but his predictions have proven to be even more accurate. I’m talking, of course, about Nostradumbass. 

Nostradumbass made predictions for specific situations and people. He didn’t just pull probable events out of the future and talk vaguely of them, but he was able to provide detailed predictions for select individuals. While in Bruges, Belgium, I ran across his home and was privileged to spend an afternoon in his library conducting my research. I found a very specific entry about a group of hikers on a long pilgrimage in a yet to be discovered land. I found it interesting since Bunny and I knew we were going to hike the Appalachian Trail. I didn’t know it was about us until quite recently. I happened to make a copy of his prediction and will share it now.

“Verily, a quad of seekers walking from south to north in Amascus will come together late in their journey. The quad will comprise of a seeker of stars with a spouse specializing in fixing the hands of sparking bards. Though they are not true pilgrims, nasty beings, only being slightly more than 1/3, they will join the true seekers made of a pair thought to have thrown away their lives by everyone around them. The quad will face perilous paths and deep waters most certainly headed to their ends until the Chorris, the giant serpent defeater, joins them and secures their safe fates. In exchange for this safety, the giant antler must pass.”

This entry always stuck with me. The 1/3 pilgrim never did make sense to me until Bear and Sassy started hiking with us. Bear and Sassy are only doing about 1/3 of the AT this year. Obviously, even Nostradumbass had issues with section hikers. Clearly Bear is the “seeker of stars” having worked for NASA for 38 years. His wife, Sassy “fixing the hands of sparking bards” means her work as an occupational therapist focusing on hand rehabilitation. “Sparking bards” can only mean computer programmers who routinely get carpal tunnel disease. Of course it goes without saying that Bunny and I are the pair “thought to have thrown away their lives” by quitting stable, decent jobs. But the Chorris remained a mystery. That is, until Bear solved that puzzle in southern Maine. 

Nostradamus was usually a bit off in his names. He called Hitler, Hisler. Surely his dumbass cousin did the same with Good Chip Norris, Chorris. “The giant serpent defeater”—he was bitten by a snake which later died. It was then that I KNEW this prophecy was about us. The final statement is the clinch point. The “giant antler must pass” which means as long as GCN hikes with us, we will be safe, but we will not see a moose. That leaves us only two options: 1) continue hiking with GCN and forget about seeing a moose, but complete the AT safely, or 2) we must kill GCN. There can be no middle ground. I’m trying to decide. I know Bunny really wants to see a moose and, really, I hardly know this guy. We’ve still got a week. 

This was what was going through my mind on this somber day as we continued along the ridge over the Chairback Mountsins. We were about to enter another roller coaster even greater in scale than what we experienced in Northern VA. My wife was bummed about not seeing a moose which I knew was not possible because of who we were hiking with. Although Good Chip Norris doesn’t hike the Appalachian Trail, the Appalachian Trail aligns itself with Good Chip Norris. Bunny was leading the way after Chairback Fourth Mountain heading up to the ledges when she slowed. She yelled back to everyone to not trust the logs in the puddle ahead. She made it across without incident. I listened and navigated the puddle as well, but GCN chose to ignore Bunny’s warning. 

GCN stepped solidly on the log and went in up to his knee. It was then that I knew, no matter how much Bunny wanted to see a moose, I could not kill GCN. He’s funny. I enjoy being around him. He even started singing with us yesterday. He was, more than ever, family. But most importantly, he’s the only one of us with decent cell coversge (note to self, we need to sign up for Verizon before we start the PCT). We were at the 2100 mile mark and GCN is not just some stinking, low-life section hiker, he’s been out here always within a couple days of us. I’ll just have to get Bear to do it. 

We continued through Maine’s version of the roller coaster for the rest of the day. The rain from yesterday had intensified the fall colors. We stopped at Chairback Gap Lean-to for a late lunch. I tried to get Bear aside to ask him for “a favor” but then Bunny said “ I give up on these damn moose. I don’t think they even exist.” Chip was safe. I won’t have to visit Bear in prison next year. We’ll be able to start the PCT without being delayed for the trial. It’s a win-win for everyone. I gave GCN a knuckle bump after lunch with him thinking I was just impressed by the beautiful fall colors. Sweet, innocent, Chorris. 

No decision had been reached as to where we are going to stay tonight. While climbing down off of the Chairbacks, the people out front (not Sassy or me) managed to lose the trail going through a boulder field. Sassy and I had been hanging back watching everyone scramble around and climb over huge boulders thinking “this can’t be right.” When GCN said they’d lost the trail, Sassy looked to her left and saw the blaze they had missed. Slow and Steady as she Sashays Yon. We were the first ones down. 

It was approaching dusk as we came upon Katahdin Iron Works Road. We had seen there might be a house a couple miles down the road that takes in hikers but there isn’t a shuttle (and there’s no cell service, not even Verizon). Bear got to the road and flagged down an RV, the only vehicle we saw all night as it turned out. He was going west and we wanted to go east. He said if we were going west, he’d give us a ride but he couldn’t turn around. We didn’t want to go west. He said sorry, he’s going west, not east. This is how the conversation went for about 15 minutes. In the end, we were all well aware of which direction was east and which was west. 

Rather than hike on, we just decided to find the first stealth site we could find. There was a Brook to our left that we could get water from. It wasn’t 100 yards before we saw an old roadbed (swail, if you will. I know. This is one of my father-in-law’s hobbies) that was flat enough that we could set our tents up in. For a twist, I let Bunny get water with Sassy while Bear and I performed homemaker duties. It was dark before we were in bed. I could have been a stay at home dad.

EFG

I woke up feeling much wiser today. It is like we are living in a video game and somewhere through the night, I picked up another year of experience. I guess if I have to choose between wisdom and youth, I go with youth (not that it’s ever done me any good). Bunny did something she rarely does. She asked me for the food bag as soon as she woke up. I usually handle everything food related. I stepped out to pee and when I returned, Bunny gave me a surprise birthday bag of M&Ms which I had been carrying. She even went so far as saying I didn’t even have to share this bag which I had unknowingly been carrying. 

It started out as a crappy weather day and continued that way. As soon as we got out of our tents, it started misting. We all ran our packs down to the shelter to try to keep them dry while we were packing up. Bear and I took care of the tents whilst we allowed our women folk to go on bowel patrol. I was the last to get my privy time (happy birthday to me). This was one of the worst privies we have run across. There was brown liquid oozing out of the box on to the floor and soaking the ground all around it. I didn’t verify by taste testing, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t chocolate. 

Bear and Sassy took off while I was gagging my way through my morning quiet time. I got back to the lean-to just as they came back in. Bear had found the missing gasket from the water filter that had caused the meltdown on our arrival last night. The hiker in question now had a fully functional filter once again and he sheepishly apologized for his outburst last night. He said five months on the trail is too long implying, that we section hikers wouldn’t understand. Once again, our smell betrays us. I said I remembered having a few bad days around the 5 month mark, but now, as we near the 8 month mark, nothing bothers us (except little weedlings throwing temper tantrums that don’t think non-stinking old people are thru-hikers). 

It was much colder today with the rain. We just put up our hoods, lowered our heads, put away our cameras, and pushed on. There was more climbing than descending but nothing that would be bad if the weather were nice. We crossed several streams, walked by beaver ponds where the beavers have obviously been in residence for years. At one point, the trail skirted a beaver pond that was almost a quarter mile long and a couple of feet higher that the trail. These little guys are hard working mechanical engineers (demonstrating that anyone or any animal is capable of earning an ME, I’ve never seen a rodent electrical engineer…come to think of it, I have worked with a couple of weasels. Are weasels rodents?)

I was getting chilled by the time we reached the top of Barren Mountain. As usual, I was bringing up the rear (so much for the benefits of youth). Less than a mile after the fire tower on the summit, we caught up with GCN, Bear, and Sassy having a discussion at the junction of a side trail leading to Cloud Pond Lean-to. The situation was this: it’s almost 7 miles to the next lean-to. There might be some stealth sites along the way, but no guarantees. Everyone is cold and a little miserable. If we push on, we run the chance of hiking in the rain after dark. It is a 0.3 mile steep side trail to the CLOUD pond Lean-to. 

We all agreed we didn’t want to keep hiking today. We chose to drop down to the lean-to. Things were looking up. On the bright side, the trail started out very steeply down. I mean that in a good way. But even more astoundingly, GCN started to sing as we began hiking again. Most thru-hikers are basically lazy about putting in extra miles. If a shelter is more than one or two tenths of a mile off the trail, they won’t go to it. With an immediate challenge, that would deter those that were on the fence. I thought this would bode well for us having the shelter to ourselves. 

It was a very long 3 tenths of a mile to the shelter, but it was empty. Sassy and Bunny still wanted to set up tents, but I was wanting the shelter because of the rain. In the end, we decided to set our tents up in the shelter (a no-no in normal circumstances). Chip, as usual, chose to still hang his hammock. The rain intensified and the temperature dropped, and we stayed warm and dry in our tents in the shelter. We had left plenty of space between us just in case anyone else showed up, but by 4:30, we felt confident no one was coming. 

In between showers and thunderstorms (yes, Bunny May be a bad ass, but she is still a chicken about lightening) we could hear sounds coming from Chips fly behind the shelter. It wasn’t the snoring we were expecting, but a strange sound that we thought we’d never hear from those quarters. Good Chip Norris was still singing. Not perfect pitch like the four of us, but still singing. Chip is one of us! 

EFG

Our stay at Shaw’s includes an AYCE breakfast with blueberry pancakes. Poet is the Chief Cook. There’s no excuse to not overeat here. Mr. Overhill joined our table for breakfast and we continued our conversation from yesterday. It turns our that he guides REI adventures. He gave us his phone number and told us to give him a call next year when we get near Yosemite on the PCT. 

Hollywood came down to breakfast and was his usual boisterous self. He told us that he originally wanted to hike out with us today but that he had slept in the dorm next to Chip. He bitched and complained about GCN’s snoring for the next 15 minutes. Bottom line, he said he got zero sleep last night and was going to take another zero today, but there’s no way he’s going to hike with us after the way GCN snored. It was at this point where our liking of GCN turned the corner into full on love. His snoring, which he has tried to protect us from has saved the remaining 115 miles of the trip and guaranteed that we will still be able to talk. 

After breakfast, we made a shopping trip through Hippie Chick’s and Poet’s supplies. We arranged to have a food drop in four days. They allow us to pack a sealed bucket for each of us and then they set up a time and place for us to meet in four days. In addition to personally handing us our food, they will take all of our trash and bring us sodas. They charge $80 for this service, but split 5 ways, this is very reasonable. It allows us to carry just 4 days of food instead of 8 days of food. By any stretch, this is a great deal for us.

There were a couple of younger guys that piled with us into Poet’s SUV so it was a full load of 8 in the vehicle. Poet took us back to where Hippie Chick picked us up yesterday and then spent a few minutes offering some guidance on the remainder of our hike. He let us know what to expect and what side trips were worth the effort. He then recited a poem that he had written in the 100 mile wilderness on his thru-hike. I should have written it down but the gist of it was to go slow and enjoy the moment. He told us that when he wrote it, he was really talking about all the time he spent filtering water. He didn’t recognize the hidden meaning until later. And then we were off on the final stage of our journey.

It wasn’t 100 yards until we got to the sign telling us to “abandon all hope, all ye who enter.” Its 100 miles until we can expect to get any resupply or help if we get in trouble. Do not enter with less than 10 days of food. Oh, and please register so we might be able to identify the body when we find it. All in all, it was , as usual, an overhyped, scare tactic. Poet did tell us, this warning really applies to the early season hikers because the trail does get beat up pretty bad every year.

We took a picture break and made sure we were all ready for this. We checked all of our gear and asked Bear if he had detailed plans and contingencies for every possible scenario. He did and offered to share them with us if we wanted. I was satisfied that he had put enough thought into the remainder of the trail, I didn’t need to hear the details. I turned and started to climb the trail. Within three steps, I damn near fell and smacked my head. I said “I’m good. No problems.” When I looked back, everyone was still at the sign and hadn’t noticed. No blood, no foul.

Poet had told us to take it easy for the first few days. The first 40ish miles are the toughest and then we’ll reap the reward for all we’ve been through. We walked by so many picturesque ponds that it was hard to keep moving. Everything was gorgeous. The colors were so intense. This is definitely the perfect time to be in the 100 mile wilderness. All of our feet dragging has paid off.

A few miles in, we ran into a ridge runner coming south. We stopped and chatted for a bit. She wanted to make sure we were prepared. She also told us some more details about Baxter State Park that we hadn’t heard. The park is not closing on October 15th like it usually does. This year, the roads into the park will close on the 15th, but people can enter on foot. On the 23rd of the month, the campgrounds will close, except for the lean-to reserved for thru-hikers. The park officially closes the 31st of the month. This is the first time Baxter has ever stayed open past the 15th. There is a new superintendent this year and he is trying to work with the ATC to help thru-hikers in the hopes that thru-hikers will maintain their dignity in the park. Baxter State Park is more of a shrine than a park.

We stopped for a lunch break at Little Wilson Falls. Because the river levels are down this time of year, we were able to sit on rocks shelves that would normally be in the falls. We spread out and took in the views. The falls have a vertical drop of over 60’ so “little” is a bit of a misnomer. It was here that Sassy made a discovery. Actually, she didn’t make the discovery for another 30 minutes or so, but she was able to backtrack to this setting. I’ll share a secret with everyone so you don’t have to learn the hard way. Potato chips are normally gluten free. I only say normally because Pringle’s are considered potato chips and they are not gluten free. They add wheat to the chips to make them maintain their uniform shape. Gluten and Sassy equals bad news. 

As I said, Sassy didn’t feel the effects for a while. We managed to get in our climb up to Big Wilson Cliffs to enjoy the fall colored vistas. We had all been hiking together when we noticed Bear and Sassy were no longer with us. Remember, a slice of bread had taken Sassy out for a day + at Northern Outdoor Center so when she caught up with us and told us her discovery, we were all concerned. To our relief, she had only had a couple of chips. A little chip can cause a lot of damage. A Good Chip Norris can do a lot of good if put to good service.

Sassy soldiered on as she always does. She’s  a good influence on Bunny, making Bunny realize that she, too, is a bad ass. Bunny has been through more on the trail that most women and she’s still going. She just sometimes, forgets to give herself credit and doubts her abilities. She is not using “can’t” nearly as much these days, in fact, hardly ever anymore which I am thrilled about. 

We still had to Ford Big Wilson Stream before we got the privilege of climbing the final 300’ to our targeted camp for the night. Chip has decided that he’s not going to change out of his trail shoes at any more river crossing and just walks on through. The rest of us, however, take the time to change before and after. The funny thing is that these are brand new shoes that GCN has. 

We arrived at the lean-to just before dark. As we walked into camp, one of the guys in the lean-to has a melt down over his water filter. I didn’t hear exactly what happened, just that he hates it and wants to be done with the trail.  The shelter was full which didn’t really matter because Bunny and Sassy have ruled out all shelter stays. We climbed up behind the shelter and tried to find a couple of level spots. 

We set up camp, fetched water, cooked, and ate, all in the dark. One thing was different tonight. I knew we weren’t the only ones still awake because we could hear the weedlings in the shelter laughing and making noise. I prayed for their sake that they would shut up soon. It hasn’t been so long ago that Sassy scared an entire contingency of college kids into quiet submission, and that was a Sassy that didn’t have gluten in her. For your own sake, kids, STFU. 

EFG

The shelter last night was on a loop trail off of the AT. We’re over 2000 miles in, yet I’m still trying to be somewhat of a purist in spite of the fact that we slack packed for 8 days. I can almost put my head around doing that when I consider the pain my knee was giving me at the time. What I haven’t been able to accept yet is that I spent one of those days as a sobo. I haven’t blue blazed or yellow blazed at all, so I consider that a point in my favor, but sobo! That’s like selling your soul to the devil just to play the guitar. Mizman did a stint as a sobo when we caught up with him at the Hudson River. As I recall, he had to heavily medicate himself to even sleep at night (or maybe he just liked the taste of beer…a lot). What I’m getting at is that I’m still a pain in the ass about going by every white blaze. Even though we were on a loop, I made everyone backtrack the route we came in and walk the main trail around the shelter. One day, they’ll thank me. Today was not that day.

It was a little on the cool side this morning, so what could possibly be a better start to the day than another river crossing where we’ve got to wade across? We were expecting this. If we had been cumulatively 100 years younger (that’s 24 years for Bear and 19 years each for GCN, Sassy, Bunny, and myself bringing Bear nearly in age line with the rest of us yet keeping me the youngest), we would have pushed on yesterday for the East Branch of the Piscataquis River just to get the crossings out of the way in a single day. Normally, we would have changed shoes for the crossing but the river was low enough that, if we don’t slip, we can make it across high and dry. We had an 80% success rate. I had my camera ready for Sassy because she has been voted “most likely to fall,” but she made it. Poor GCN. 

It’s time for a little more back story on Good Chip Norris. GCN is from an area in New Jersey called the Jersey Shore. This would make his wife a real Jersey Shore housewife. I’ve never seen the show, but I’ve gathered the gist of the program from extensive conversations with GCN. He and his father used to own a steam boat very similar in style to the “African Queen.” GCN has also been talking quite a bit about designing and building a mouldering/composting privy in his back yard. These two topics lead me to believe that “The Real Housewives of Jersey Shore” must be a frontier program describing the trials of primitive living. It seems that GCN’s forefathers made it as far as New Jersey and just didn’t have the “mmph” to move away from the shore where civilization took hold. They have been living a backward existence for generations ever since.

Our goal for the day is to make it into Monson, ME. This is a very doable short day for us thanks to us pushing on a bit more than we had planned yesterday. After the river crossing, we had a gentle climb to the top of Buck Hill which had an overlook of Lake Hebron. When we got to the view, I heard someone say “Bunny Tracks and Easily Forgotten, I never thought I’d see you again.” 

It took my old brain a few minutes to recognize that this was Legs who we had met just before we got into Daleville. We all met in the old schoolhouse when we were hiking with Stickers and Lady Bug (and periodically with Little Blue, Geo, Summit, and Bearfoot when we caught them off guard not giving them time to hide in the woods as we approached). Legs had made it up to VT and decided to flop up north to spend some time with his family in Maine. He had already been up Katahdin and was now hiking sobo back to VT to finish his thru-hike. He seemed not to be bummed about being a sobo. This was also the second person in the last few days we never thought we’d see again on the trail (the first being Handy). Since coincidences usually come in 3’s, I’ll be ready for the next surprise. 

It was not too many years ago that the AT used to run directly into Monson. People complained about all the road walking they had to do to get back to the 100 mile wilderness. After coming down Buck Hill, we met the old, now blue blazed, trail that runs directly into town. Of course, this was a non-starter. One day everyone will thank me. Once again, today is not that day. 

We finished the last mile and a half and got to the road by early afternoon. GCN was able to get a call into Hippie Chick to come pick us up. I had called ahead when we were an Northern Outdoors Center and made reservations for all of us, so she was expecting the call. 

Hippie Chick showed up in less than 10 minutes to bring us back to her hostel; Shaw’s. She grew up working in a hostel for her parents who own Appalachian Trail Lodge in Millinocket. When Shaw’s came up for sale a few years ago, she and her husband, Poet, bought the place. She took us back to the hostel and showed us around. As soon as we pulled up, we ran into Hollywood. We noticed that we were able to actually get a few words in every now and then and he wasn’t swearing quite as much. Someone must have said something to him. We later found out that wasn’t the case, he was just extremely hung over and not quite himself.

We walked into the main house for Hippie Chick to show us our rooms and right away I heard “Easily Forgotten! Is that you?” Once again, my old brain took a few minutes to figure this one out, but for good reason. This was Mr Overhill who we had shared a shelter with our second night in North Carolina (and our third coincidence making the law of 3 hold true). At the time we met, we were all wearing hats all of the time because it was so cold. I had no idea he had so much hair so I have an excuse, but when I heard him talk more, my memory was jarred.

Mr. Overhill was putting in big miles when we met him. We had been on the trail for almost 2 weeks and it was his fourth day. He was trying to hike the trail fast. I told him our plan was to take as long as possible. The next day, he blew right by us and we never saw him again until today. He filled me in that he had kept pushing the big miles every day and made it all the way to Vermont by early April. He said he was absolutely miserable. The weather sucked. He didn’t have any friends on the trail and he wasn’t having any fun. He said the last week he was out he cried almost every day from misery. He got off and went to work guiding for the summer. He had just gotten on about a week and a half ago and was hiking sobo to finish the thru-hike, but with one big difference. He was going to take his time, meet people, and enjoy his life on the trail. He told me he thought we were doing it right and had been all along. He had hoped he might meet us again one day and tell us so.

Running into Mr.Overhill and having him validate us made me feel great. Screw the fact that we were sobo for a day. We’re out here hiking the trail. We’re putting in the miles and having a good time. We’ve met great people along the way, seen as much as we could, and now have a great tramily to finish the trail with. Make personal connections is what long distance hiking is all about. We’ve seen 3 people in the last few days we never thought we’d see again. This after I was feeling low about the way we’ve hiked and thinking we wouldn’t see anyone else we knew once we got to Maine. Life is good; faith in humanity restored.

We had plenty of time left in the day to do the things we needed to get done: shower, laundry, grocery shopping, finding out about Baxter requirements and registration, and, it seems like there’s something else we usually do in a town, what could that be. It’s on the tip of my tongue, literally. That’s it! Eat! We headed down to Lakeshore House for supper. 

Monson is a, I hate to use it but it applies so well, “quaint” little town. Quite recently, the founder of Burt’s Bees has been pumping money into several small towns in the remote areas of Maine. Monson is fortunate to be one of the beneficiaries of that generosity. Several old buildings are being remodeled on the main strip. There’s a community art gallery and I understand that there is also subsidized housing for artists to try and develop a thriving art community. There also a couple of shopping options for thru-hikers. Monson is the equivalent distance down the trail for sobos as Franklin was for nobos. Since I’ve mentioned Groundhog Day a few times this can’t hurt. “It’s so beautiful. Let’s live here. We’ll rent to start.”

EFG

I know this is something I’m going to have to deal with regularly when we hike the PCT next year, but that’s then and this is now. When you stealth camp on the AT, that usually means no privy at the campsite. I do know how to dig holes and aim, but I can usually wait if there’s a privy within a few hours of walking. When I was growing up and going to Boy Scout Camp in the summers, I would hold it the entire week I was at camp. I will grant that I wasn’t feeling great by the time that I made it home but one must exercise muscles to grow stronger. A sphincter is nothing but another muscle. There are times, I’m pretty sure, I can press out diamonds. 

It was another beautiful day in Maine. We started out as a group and hiked as a group all day long. GCN no longer tries to run away from our singing, but he’s not quite joining in the chorus yet. Not bolting is a great first step. We do have him talking about music more and more. He keeps referring to tough days as “Abba moments.” Apparently, he’s one of the few males that uses ABBA for motivation. Sadly, I do know the words to almost all of their songs, but I was a tortured child of the 70’s. I also have a wife that is not offended by Pierce Brosnan trying to sing. We’ve only seen two movies the 8 months we’ve been on the trail, one of which was “Mamma Mia, Here We Go Again.”

I’m mystified by people that claim that Maine is tough hiking and that the trails aren’t maintained well. I personally think Maine is the second best maintained state just shy of Virginia. Coincidentally, these are the two longest states on the AT. I blame everyone thinking ultra-light is the only way to hike. The vast majority of people use trail runners which supply almost no support to their feet and then they try to run down the trail rather than carefully walking. This skews their image of perceived difficulty. GCN is a trail runner advocate, but he doesn’t try to blast down the trails. If GCN weren’t carry 10-15# of Paydays, he could almost pass as an ultra-light advocate.

I didn’t mean to leave anyone hanging with my privy (or lack of privy) story, but this phrase applies amazingly close to home. I knew we would be coming across a shelter and campsite with a couple of privies. Bunny and I dropped our packs when we came to the first privy. Bear and Sassy saw our packs, but continued on to the water source up ahead. I went exploring to find that this was a newly relocated outhouse. I’m talking I might have been the first person to “break ground and wind” here. It was eerie to actually be able to drop and time to determine the depth of the pit. I shared this discovery with Bear.

Bear went back to perform his own timing function. I was  careful to not share my results before he collected his own data so as to not tarnish the results (don’t try this at home, we are professionals—really, we’re both degreed and over 21 no matter how hard that might be to believe). After a few minutes, Bear came back and said he determined the depth of the pit to be approximately 1.5 miles. It looks like we have an Artesian privy if Bear’s experimental results can withstand peer review. I had a few clarifying questions before I would be willing to accept his findings because the result was so divergent from my own findings. Perhaps I landed on a ledge. My first question “Once you started timing, was there a shake involved that might have caused a delayed launch?” I was fairly convinced Bear may need a little more fiber in his diet which was verified with his positive response. Chip felt left out of our conversation and lamented that he was sorry that he had gone first thing this morning because he could very easily have been the turd tie breaker.

We came across some huge moose tracks in the trail. We followed them for a bit before we noticed it turned off the trail going perpendicular to the trail. Bear had just read that a moose will circle back and follow anyone or anything following it. It will start to circle back then lie down in the woods to observe what is behind it. We felt eyes on our backs but couldn’t see any antlers in the woods.

I don’t know where Moxie Bald Mountain came from. I didn’t expect another 1700’ climb after the views yesterday. It really looked all level below us. The climb wasn’t really that bad because we kept stopping to admire the views. Not to mention that Bear and I were both feeling light as a feather after our little experiment. Bunny and I did fall behind a bit as she is feeling a bit tight in her hips. When we got to the peak, everyone else was already on the back side sitting protected and out of the wind. We were getting blown like mad at the sign, but the trail maintainers were thorough enough to provide holds for us to grab to keep from getting blown away.

We took a break and snack at the top to enjoy the magnificent views. I had also been warned about a gap on top of this ridge that required you to jump across. It was only about a 5’ gap with about a 15’ drop, but I was worried about Bunny getting a little intimidated. I waited for her and didn’t say a thing about it. As soon as she caught up with me, I made the jump and waited. She handled it with a minimum of hesitation. She truly is becoming a bad ass. 

There are a few fords that we were anticipating here in Maine. Maybe, early in the season, the rivers can be swollen with snow melt but now, from what we’ve seen so far, they seem pretty tame. We crossed the first one, the West Branch of Piscataquis River late this afternoon. There was a guy fly fishing at the crossing which made me forget all about attempting the crossing barefoot. Where there’s fly fishermen, there are snagged hooks.

After the crossing, we were all starting to feel a bit tired. This is the longest we have hiked since we all started hiking together. I know the young pups will laugh that 15 miles isn’t that long, but we are about twice the age of the average hiker. Bear, GCN, and I picked up our pace to start looking for a campsite along the river to make another stealth camp. There just wasn’t anything suitable for a group of 5. We ended up making it all the way to the shelter (a little over 2 miles after the crossing). I slowed down and waited for Bunny and Sassy to catch up and break the bad news. When they caught up, I was expecting them to be tired and a bit angry but they could already tell from looking around. They were in surprisingly good moods considering it was getting dark and Bunny likes to be in the tent about now.

We set up camp behind the lean-to even though there was only one person in it. The women folk don’t like the shelters and complain about lack of privacy and mice crawling on them. Women! We set up the tents before I went to get water which turned out to be a long trek from the shelter. Bear had already gone ahead so he let me know not to even bother with the first location indicated. It was pitch black before I found the trickle across the trail. Needless to say, Bunny and I were the last ones in bed again.

EFG