View From The Top

Shawn came into the office tonight, pre-happy hour, and we were able to download his trail photos, from about Virginia through to the end. Needless to say, it was a nervous moment when we plugged the camera card into the computer, hoping it wouldn't have somehow gotten erased!! So here are some photos from the summit of Mt Katahdin...

Just a couple of photos

Here are just a couple of the photos from our trip/reunion this past week. This was my first view of Katahdin, taken while driving into Baxter State Park on Wednesday morning... Here's where Keychain signed in for his final hike... (down in the yellow smudge) This is what Katahdin looked like from the closest campground, where I waited with several other families for our thru-hikers to come down. Creeper's dad had binoculars, and we could actually see the a little of the festivities on the top of the mountain. And here was my first view of him coming down off the mountain with some of the 60-something hikers that summited that afternoon... More to come... stay tuned!

THRU AND THROUGH!

Lots of stuff to post about, but first let me tell everyone that this is one thru-er who is D-U-N, done. I summitted Katahdin just before noon yesterday, October 8, one hundred ninety-two days and 2,176.2 miles after starting up the approach trail to Springer Mountain in Georgia back on March 31. The 100-Mile Wilderness was a great stretch of trail that took us through the beautiful and endless north woods of Maine, but hardly a “wilderness.” More like a 100-Mile No Resupply. It is definitely a remote place, but there is a good amount of day trippers who come in via maintained dirt roads and since most of the area is owned by logging and paper companies, there is always the threat of development as these companies divest themselves of used land. In fact, a proposal now seeking approval from the state would bring a large resort and thousands of houses into the Wilderness area. Happily for those who would like to see this area conserved – it is really the last large undeveloped area in the east - organizations like the Nature Conservancy and the Appalachian Mountain Club (the group that manages the huts and trails in the White Mountains) are also pushing for intelligent land management. (AMC’s Maine Woods Initiative is detailed here: http://www.outdoors.org/conservation/wherewework/maine/index.cfm) For me, the difficulty of the Wilderness was centered on the time we spent without rest from the weather. It rained hard for three of the first four days, and then it was cold both day and night. Every day featured at least one large ford, which, with the rain, meant continuously wet shoes and socks. The treeline is fairly low, so even small mountains had us exposed to the mist, rains, and winds. My fellow hikers and I – Zen, Cookie Monster, No Amp, and Spidey – all prefer tenting, but spent most nights in shelters to share warmth and avoid putting up the tents in the mud. Related to the weather was the difficulty with food. I carried 8 days of food, with portion sizes that would have been perfect for an 8-day carry back in the South. But by this time in the hike, without body fat for insulation or backup energy, I start feeling decidedly weaker after three days of hiking and camp food. The temperature in the Wilderness didn’t break 50 degrees, and the lows were in the 20s and low 30s each night. Someone has told me you will spend an additional 1000 calories just keeping warm in weather like that – on top of the 5000 or so we spend doing the hike. By the fifth night, I was lying in my bag 2 hours after dinner, as hungry as ever and shivering. Very tough not to pig out on the rest of the food bag! To remedy the situation – I did want to actually enjoy my final week – I hit up Whitehouse Landing, a wilderness camp that caters to backwoods fishermen, hunters, snowmobilers, and of course hikers this time of year. Getting there requires leaving the AT and following a mile-long bushwhacked trail to a small dock on a vast lake in the middle of nowhere, sounding an airhorn, and waiting for a boat to show up to ferry you to the camp. There I had the famous one-pound burger and was able to purchase some more snacks and such. However bad the weather was during the Wilderness, it did set up a dramatic ending to this adventure. As we went over Whitecap, a 3600ft peak halfway through the Wilderness, we walked into hail, then sleet, then snow. The wind was strong and windchill was somewhere in the single digits – boy was I missing the gloves in that lost Caratunk maildrop! We began speculating – what would Katahdin be like, at 1600 feet higher? Did it receive snow too? Zen had the answer for us – he had run ahead to spend the night at Whitehouse Landing and took a floatplane ride from there. He got to see Katahdin from the air, covered in snow above treeline. After hearing this, we began mentally preparing for a cold winter climb at the end. However, it was tough to see Katahdin for myself and confirm the snow cover as we made our way towards the mountain. The weather started improving, but still Katahdin hid herself – the top half beneath clouds on Sunday, a little more revealed on Monday, and only the top peak covered on Tuesday. She was being coy! Zen and I camped on Rainbow Ledges Tuesday night – one of the last views of Katahdin – and that night she finally let down her guard and threw off the last clouds after the sun had set, showing us her sexy silhouette. The next morning, she was completely naked and welcoming, and we made our way into Baxter State Park. It was then we learned the trail to the top was closed, for the fourth day in a row. I will stop here and continue later – the check has arrived here at the AT Café in Millinocket, and Zen, Elizabeth, and I have “big miles” to do today as we drive north…

I-95 is lovely this time of year.

Hello from my hotel here in Portland, about 4.5 hours from the trail, and from our favorite hiker. I got a call from Shawn this morning as I was preparing to leave, who reported that the trail to the summit was still closed ... so now there are even more hikers backed up in Abol Bridge waiting to finish! Hopefully tomorrow morning will be an all-clear and he and Zen (and many others) can hike on up. Either way, I'll be at Baxter State Park around 1 or 2 tomorrow, to either wait for him to come down off the mountain, or hang out with him in Millinocket until he can go up it. Hopefully the former, so we can go to Canada! The drive up from Philly was nice and uneventful - excellent leaf peeping along the way, and I was able to get a Connecticut and Massachusetts keychain to complete Shawn's set, courtesy of I-95 and I-90 rest stops along the way. I'll let everyone know tomorrow if the mountain is open or not, so stay tuned ... and keep your fingers crossed!!!! I know they all are anxious to finish. PS... on a total aside, after I picked up the car last night, I stopped by the Old Navy in South Philly, and saw Jay from season 1 of Project Runway. Random.

Text from the Trail

I received this text message this morning, from Keychain:

"@L.namahkanta. snow on k. closed for past 2 days says rumor!"

Translated, this means “I am at Lake Namahkanta. There is snow on Katahdin, and supposedly the mountain has been closed for the past 2 days.”

I sent him a message back to see when he thought he’d summit given the weather. Luckily, I got a call back! Apparently Zen got some kind of floatplane ride (?!) and saw a lot of snow on the mountain, and rumors from ahead of them indicate that people were stacking up at the park, waiting to summit. It did snow on them a few nights ago, but today is a gorgeous day in Maine, and they figure the folks that have been waiting to hike up will likely go today, leaving less of a crowd for them, and they still plan to summit on Wednesday.

So, the plan to leave Philly tomorrow is still intact, and I’ll hopefully be with Shawn on Wednesday!

You Know He's Almost Done When...

…the kitchen table has been reclaimed, and all the extra food your hiker didn’t need fits in one small bag. I haven't seen the top of this table in 6 months, and its quite exciting!

Just to keep everyone up to date, the "Getting Shawn from the Trail Plan" is to leave from Philadelphia on Tuesday, make the long drive up, and meet him sometime Wednesday when he is back from the Summit. I spoke with Shawn in Monson at the beginning of the week, and probably won’t hear from him again until I see him at the base of Katahdin since he’s going through the 100 mile wilderness as we speak. We picked out a meeting place at the base of the mountain, and if all goes according to plan, I’ll see him there! We will make calls to families as soon as we can, and I’m sure he’ll want to post about his summit here as well.

After the big reunion, Keychain and I (and Zen, too) are planning a short trip further north to see where the Appalachian Mountains end in Canada. We’ll be in touch with plans for a welcome home gathering (or two) with photos from his Thru-Hike once Shawn settles back into “real” life. Be glad I’m donating the extra food, or else the entire menu could consist of dried milk, tuna, and ramen noodles…

OFF TO THE WILDERNESS

Just a quick update - still here in Monson. My mail drop still hasn't arrived after a week (and Priority Mail sending) so I am assuming its lost and moving on. Luckily, there is a decent market in town - enough to do a resupply for the next eight days. Very frustrating since this is the fouth time a mail drop did not arrive, despite ample time and 2-day "priority" sending. (Atkins VA, Kent CT, Caratunk ME, Monson ME). Each time, it means wasted effort and money for both Elizabeth and me. At this point, I'd recommend to anyone planning a thru-hike to avoid using the Postal Service as much as possible! As soon as I buy food, my hiker friends and I will head out. We are still aiming for reaching the summit next Wednesday, but I will try and blog as soon as I finish. The weather looks good today and the rivers we must ford should be back down towards normal levels. Plus, we've given enough time for the large group of hikers who left yesterday to get well ahead of us. No sense in crowding in for the last section. Farewell, final town stop!

LAST DROP, LAST TOWN, LAST 100 MILES

Hi from Monson, Maine a tiny hamlet in the middle of the northern Maine forest, mile 2060-ish. This is the end! I got in yesterday with friends and found a full circus of hikers in town, all stacking up while the rainy remnants of a tropical storm move through. Us hardier types were happy to brave the weather for the last few days - the trail up here is insanely beautiful now that we've hiked into the peak foliage and no rain can disturb that. If anything, the leaves are even more intense without sunshine to compete with. At times, its like walking under a huge stained glass ceiling, with the light streaming down in yellow or orange. Plus, the rain makes for adventurous river crossings - we've forded big streams each of the last two days, with water above my knees both times. The good thing about fording is that once the shoes are wet from that experience, there's no problem walking through other puddles and mud pits anymore. When we arrived yesterday, there was no space left in either of the hostels here, and I was a little salty with some of the hikers who I know yellow-blazed up to Monson to avoid the rain. But, luckily, space was found at the Lakeshore House, which also houses the only bar in town - how convenient! You can image the scene last night was pretty raucous - two dozen or more hikers enjoying their final town stop before completing this long adventure. There's lots of friends here whom I haven't seen since Central Virginia, and even thruers I've never met before. Amazing to think I'm still meeting new people that started within a week of me back in Georgia. We are hoping everyone moves on early today now that the weather has broken. Unfortunately, Elizabeth's final mail drop hasn't arrived in time, and so I will have to decide whether I leave later today or early tomorrow. I did receive notes from other family members - thank you all so much. Monson is the start of the famous 100-Mile Wilderness, a stretch of Maine woodlands without any serious roads until Abol Bridge, near Mt. Katahdin. Once you enter, its very difficult to get out since there is no cell reception and the one or two logging roads in there carry no traffic. It means a huge carry of food, and the trail through this part is known for being boggy and host to waist-deep river crossings. It should be a grand way to approach Katahdin, which will loom over us towards the end. The forest should be spectacularly colorful throughout the wilderness, and its possible we may even get some snow at the higher elevations. Oh boy! At the end of the Wilderness is Abol Bridge, a tiny convenience store. Hopefully they have champagne there, because its only a brief hike from there into Baxter State Park to the base of Katahdin. Baxter is a neat place - a former governor of Maine bought the land and donated it for preservation as a wilderness park. This is the park's primary mission, and human needs are secondary to resource protection. There are only one or two campgrounds, and they are kept small and remote. Climbing Katahdin can be tricky - we climb more than 4000 feet to its 5200-foot summit, making it the largest single climb on the AT. Save the best for last! The peak is well above treeline, which is around 2500 feet here, and the summit can be blasted by winds. If Baxter's rangers feel its unsafe weather to climb, they will close the trails until the situation improves - all northbounders have had in the back of their heads October 15th, the date when the park closes its gates because historically the weather is too bad for climbing past then. I have attempted to climb Katahdin once before, in July of 2004, and was forced to turn around. I reached Pamola Peak, one of the three summits, and was about to head out onto the Knife Edge, a thin, rocky slice with thousands of feet of drop on either side, that connects Pamola with the true summit, Baxter Peak. A storm was supposed to arrive hours later in the day, but as I started out, the wind picked up suddenly, rain began to fall, and the temperature dropped into the low 40s. Being an inexperienced day-hiker, I only had a thin coat as protection, but I knew enough to get down as quickly as possible. Hopefully, Katahdin will accept my 2176 miles of penance and grant me a summit this time. If all goes well, the weather will hold and I will summit next Wednesday and Elizabeth will meet me when I come down the mountain. At that point, we will head to nearby Millinocket to rest and catch the others who summitted. From there I will try calling parents and such. Afterwards, Zen and Elizabeth and I plan to drive north, following the route of the International Appalachian Trail to its end at the tip of the Gaspe Peninsula in Quebec. This is where the Appalachians drop off into the Atlantic, a fitting end to a half year's walk. Obviously, the end is on everyone's mind these days, despite the partying going on in town last night. Most hikers are feeling ready to be done, especially with the recent wet weather. Myself, I'm ready to do something different too - six months is a long time to spend walking around the mountains. I don't think I would want to do this or any other long-distance thru-hike again. (Elizabeth says I'm not allowed to anyway.) At the same time, it is such a beautiful life out here and I'm not ready to leave the simplicity and freedom that exists on the trail. Re-entry into the normal world is going to be tough. I talked to a friend named Banjo, who summitted last week. She says it was very scary coming down from Katahdin, no longer a thru-hiker. Friends she knew deeply for months were suddenly whisked away by relatives, and within 24 hours, she was back in her home, overwhelmed by the stimulation and not sure what to do without a white blaze pointing the way. I can already feel the emotions welling up, and expect to be a blubbery mess on that final day. The road trip to Gaspe is intended to ease the transition, and I plan to take a few weeks at home to work on some overdue house projects as a way to move on from the trail. But there will be plenty of time to post about how the aftermath goes. For now, there is still 115 miles left that require my attention. Into the Wilderness and beyond!

CARATUNK IS (SLIGHTLY) MORE THAN A POST OFFICE

Greetings from Caratunk, Maine. I am staying at a deep-Maine resort that is between seasons and is offering hikers rooms for $10 a piece - the cheapest on the trail! Plus they brew their own beer and have a hot tub. This is the second-to-last town stop - only Monson lies between me and Katahdin. I crossed the 2000 mile mark two days ago, and at this point only 150 miles of Maine and the Trail remain. The Bigelows were an amazing range to end with, and we spent a very cold night at a campground in a small col between the two tall peaks to celebrate our last true mountain range. Since then, we've dropped lower and have passed by four huge lakes. Camped at one, which had a large sand beach - so I can now claim I did get to lie on the beach this summer; it just took me until late September. The days are getting shorter - even on the relatively low and easy terrain, its hard to make more than 13-14 miles each day. Plus, there is the timing of the ferry service across the Kennebec River. I hit the ferry this morning, which consists of a guy with a canoe. You'd have to be joking if you thought I might try to cross the river. I spent the summer hiking, not swimming. The river is as wide as the Schuylkill, six or seven feet at its deepest, but flowing faster than someone can walk. The ferryman told me only eight people attempted to ford the river so far this year - half came back and took the canoe, and the other half regretted it. Maine continues to amaze, though now that I'm back down below 2000 feet, its like I've stepped back three weeks or so in time. The trees are mostly green and its much warmer at night. There hasn't been rain for more than a week, but the ground still has plenty of water and is still muddy, though it tends toward tacky rather than soupy. We hiked part of the path taken by Benedict Arnold and 1200 other soldiers who in 1775 marched through Maine to invade Canada, hoping the French Canadians would rise up against the British too. Instead, they bogged down in the mud of Maine and showed up with half the men to Quebec City, a fortress atop cliffs with an uncaring population. Didn't work out so well. We have a few big hills and some more flatland before Monson and the 100-mile Wilderness. The end is near. A week or so ago, other hikers and I were ready and willing to talk about the end: what we'd miss (sunsets, the solitude of a tent); what we can't wait to get back to (eating fresh fruit and veggies, running water); and what would cause us trail de ja vu (tuna packets, hanging out with more than one bearded guy at a time). Now, the end is too close to talk about. Instead, we are having more and more quiet moments staring at the campfire, spending more time looking at the stars, and hiking in silence to better hear the forest. Trying to enjoy what we have taken for granted for so long.

STRATTON, MAINE

Stopped into Stratton, Maine for a night while Zen and I wait for Monday so we can retrieve packages from the post office. The town has cheap lodgings and is a nice place to rest from a tough week of hiking. We went over beautiful Saddleback Mountain in a strong wind, well above treeline, making for a cold cold experience. The thought around camp that night is that at 100 miles further north, 2 weeks further in the year, and 1000ft higher, Katahdin is almost guaranteed to be freezing cold when we summit. We did spent the next night on Maine's second highest peak, Sugarloaf, which was also windy and cold at the top - but we stayed in the ski resort's open summit house with its wood-burning stove. From the summit, Katahdin is clearly visible, though still far away. We could also see that the next range of mountains, the Bigelows, will be our last large range. After that, the trail drops and stays fairly low, with an occasional lone peak to climb over. Between this town and my next stop in Caratunk, we must ford several rivers. One of these is the largest un-bridged river crossing on the AT, the Kennebec River. A canoe ride is offered to hikers crossing this river, as unpredictable dam releases upstream make is a very dangerous ford - a hiker died while crossing it in the 80s. Some hikers still attempt to ford it, with swift currents and water up to the chest. The weather has given us picture perfect blue skies for the last few days, and the forecast shows it continuing into this week. In good weather, Maine is a real treat. The birches are bright yellow, and the lower maple forests are changing more rapidly now that there's been a few frosty nights. Should be a good show by the time we get to the 100-mile wilderness. My body has recovered from the beating it took in the Whites and southern Maine. Feels nice to not hurt every time I stand up!

RANGELEY, ME

Hi all from Rangely, an attractive small town here in the wilds of Maine, where I'm stopping in for resupply. Its only the third day since resupply in Andover, but that town only offered snack food. One of the joys of thru-hiking is eating like a ten year-old, but two days of sugar is enough. We had a few days of rain as the remnants of Ike came by, but yesterday and today have seen gorgeous weather and the rest of the week looks beautiful. This state is tough when the weather is bad, but when the sun is out and the views are open, Maine is quite a place. We've been hiking past many lakes recently and its nice to see them left undeveloped with only a cabin or two on each. This area of the state is close enough to attract the crowds from southern New England, so its nice to know not everything is being built upon. I don't think we will spend the night, despite the strong temptation of karoake at the local watering hole. The weather is too nice to stay around town, and we're trying to take advantage of the woods while they last. Supposedly, on really clear days, the next mountain we go across - Saddleback - has views of Katahdin. So, literally, the end will be in sight. Lots of mud with the recent rain, though nothing like we experienced in Vermont. And the Maine ATC, which maintains the trail in the state, definitely likes their reputation as a wilderness. The few log crossings over wet areas are often broken and rock and root hopping is the norm. We've been lucky in that the rivers we've had to ford so far are all low, allowing us to hop rocks across. But soon, we will have to ford some more serious rivers, so I will have wet boot days to look forward to. My gear is starting to fall apart with the wear from 5 1/2 months. I've had to replace a second rod in my pack, my water filter, a broken pole tip, and repair some torn clothing in the last few weeks. I thought my second pair of shoes would make it, but they've become a liability with the wet walking, so I've asked Elizabeth to send up my old heavy boots. Hopefully, everything else will manage the next few weeks. The Maine forest has been a delight. The leaves are still slowly changing, but the forecast calls for a few nights of below-freezing lows, which should snap them into color. Really looking forward to that. Moose tracks and scat are everywhere now they are in rutting season, and we heard some coyotes barking at each other last night. No signs of bear yet, but they may be down in the lower areas, filling up on berries right now. Hope all is well, I'll write again from Stratton in a few days...

MAINE AT LAST

Maine. For many months, its been a far-off destination - the answer to the question "where are you hiking to?" that other dayhikers and tourists always ask. And now I'm here at last, and have to answer the question differently, with "Katahdin". I crossed the NH/ME border a few days ago, passing a small sign posted to a tree in the middle of nowhere: Welcome to Maine, the Way Life Should Be. And by that, they must mean life should be exhausting. The transition into Maine from the Whites isn't "seamless" as someone suggested - in fact, it becomes harder. The mountains may not be as grandiose as the Whites, but they are more rugged and the trails are rougher and more unkempt. And as we get further north, the treeline drops and the temps become colder. No more camping on mountain tops! Two days ago, we went through Mahoosic Notch, often billed as the "toughest mile on the AT." For a full mile, the trail goes along the bottom of a big canyon, with steep cliffs on either side, and the bottom is filled with boulders ranging in size from tires to full tractor trailers. There's no real "trail" there, its more of a scramble over, around, and even under the boulders. Lots of scrambling up tilted rocks, jumping from rock edge to rock edge, climbing with hands instead of poles, sliding down rock faces, and even squeezing through holes under large slabs. Last year, a moose died in the notch, having broken his leg in a fall. Supposedly someone shot him before he slowly starved to death. My path took me next to his skeleton right at the beginning, which made for a "oh, what am I getting into?" moment. But I made it through, which is more than the moose can say. It took just about 3 hours to do the mile - a little slower than a more typical average of 2 miles per hour. Obviously its quite a challenge to do the notch with 40+ pounds on your back, but thru-hikers up the anty by challenging each other to NOT remove their packs at any point. Proud to say I kept mine on the whole time, despite having to go backwards through one really tight squeeze. Its only been a few days, but "wild" is exactly how I would describe Maine. The views from the peaks look out on a vast forest, disturbed only by logging roads. Its a rare treat to have such an amount of undeveloped land in the eastern US. Someone once described Alaska as Maine on steroids, but I would describe Maine as more like Alaska's grandfather. Old granite mountains only recently uncovered by ice, mature forests with huge birches and spruces, moss covering everything, and moose scat is everywhere (though I haven't seen one since NH). I am staying at a hostel tonight in Andover (mile 1,930ish), which has maybe nine other buildings - an old logging town with a definite frontier feel. The hostel is a great old wooden building with lots of different rooms upstairs, and when I asked the owner if it was always a hotel, he says he's looked at old pictures and there's always a few ladies in dresses hanging out on the upstairs porch. So yes, always a hotel of sorts. It rained most of the day today, which made for a muddy trail, and I earned a nice bruise on the knee after taking a spill. Nothing serious, but took a nice photo of blood running down my leg with the rainwater. The body is definitely feeling tired - the Whites and Maine are like a totally different trail than the rest of the AT. But nothing will stop me or any other hiker now with less than 300 miles (and perhaps only 3 weeks) left. Still a large stretch of tough going to get through, and then the famous 100-mile Wilderness at the end, but I'm coming for you Katahdin!