Mountains Under Foot

From Hazard’s notes:
Day 120: September 6, 2009
Travel:
From: Nahmakanta Stream Campsite, ME
To: Hurd Brook Lean-to, ME
Beginning: 7:00am
Ending: 6:30pm
Number of miles hiked:
a) Trail – 25.4
b) other -
c) AT Mile Marker – 2159.6 cumulative.
Weather:
AM & PM: Cold morning, Perfect day.
People: Bookworm, Guy who saw moose, guy living in shelter, Flying Scotsman crew.
Animals:
Money: $0, $2141 cumulative.
Notes of the day:
AM: Woke up and rolled over to get my breakfast out of my food bag and chowed down while staying in the warmth of my sleeping bag. It was a cold morning so Spoon and I took the tent down and packed up quickly to get moving as fast as possible. I went to go tell Crocstar and Nick that we were on our way out and I could see puffs of smoke billowing out from under Croc’s Dryfly. Neither of them were very excited to get moving that morning. Spoon and I continued to follow the Nahmakanta stream until it outlet into Nahmakanta lake. We passed by a campsite where a family was cooking a big breakfast that smelled awesome and their two dogs chased after us down the trail until we waited for a family member to come and collect them. As we walked along the shoreline we ran into Bookworm (who we first met in Bennington, VT) who had flip-flopped and was heading southbound. He asked us if we would take a few minutes and be interviewed by him about our experiences on the AT for an art show he was producing. A few minutes turned into 45 minutes and by then Crocstar had showed up and joined the interview. Sitting on the shady beach with the wind blowing across the lake had frozen me to the bone and when we finally wrapped things up with Bookworm I was numb all over and hiking felt a little weird until I warmed up. Spoon and I got lost heading up Nesuntabunt Mountain because the trail was rerouted and poorly marked. Once at the top we took advantage of a short side trail to an overlook of the lake and of the big guy himself, Katahdin. A day hiker showed up and took our picture and he told us that he had come from a campground that he pointed out to us on the shore of the lake. He had flown in on one of those small prop-planes with pontoons that use these lakes as runways. We came down the mountain and followed the trail as it drifted between and around Maine’s numerous lakes. We took an early lunch break on the side of the trail since we were both starving. I had saved my summer sausage and pepper jack for today and I ate it like it was the first time I had ever tasted meat or cheese. The Flying Scotsman crew blew past us but we eventually passed them when they stopped to eat lunch at Rainbow Stream Lean-to which was a really cool spot with the stream roaring right in front of the shelter.

PM: After crossing Rainbow stream over a pair of wobbly tree trunks we hugged the edge of Rainbow lake, passing a couple pulling a canoe out of the lake, a guy who about two hours ago saw a moose and wanted to warn us as if the moose was going to stand there the entire afternoon waiting for us to show up. Once we had traversed the length of the lake the trail took us upward to the Rainbow Ledges where the aforementioned moose was spotted. Not surprisingly there wasn’t a moose waiting for us at the top, however, a spectacular view of Katahdin with the afternoon sunlight highlighting its grandeur took my breath away. It was just too unreal to think I would be climbing that beast in two days. When Spoon and I got to Hurd Brook Lean-to Crocstar and Nick were enjoying a fire prepared by the shelter’s temporary resident. The guy staying here comes out for one or two weeks a year and basically lives between this shelter and Rainbow Stream Lean-to. It was great because he had a ton of firewood prepared and maintained the fire until we went to sleep that night. Spoon and I cooked our last meal together, I dried my sweaty clothes by the fire for the last time on this trip, and I fell asleep on the first and last baseball bat floors in the final night we would spent out in the woods on this wild adventure.

From Hazard’s notes:
Day 119: September 5, 2009
Travel:
From: Logan Brook Lean-to, ME
To: Nahmakanta Stream Campsite, ME
Beginning: 7:00am
Ending: 7:00pm
Number of miles hiked:
a) Trail – 27.4
b) other -
c) AT Mile Marker – 2134.2 cumulative.
Weather:
AM & PM: Awesome. Perfect hiking weather.
People: Pennywhistle, Strider, Amoeba, Flying Scotsman, Spicoli, others, Father & Son out for a short trip.
Animals: Moose was spotted at Mahar Camp by Spicoli crew
Money: $0, $2141 cumulative.
Notes of the day:
AM: Woke up with Strider coming through camp since he had spent the night on top of White Cap. He and Pennywhistle were gone before I had rolled out of my sleeping bag. Today was going to be a long day and my body knew it and tried to do anything to stop me. Luckily for us all of the hard stuff except for Mt. Katahdin was out of the way. We hiked from stream, to pond, to spring, and crossed an unmarked gravel road which had an unusually familiar vehicle parked near the trail. It was a lime green Honda Element that reminded me of the one in Hiawassee, Georgia that belonged to Amoeba who we met while staying at the Inn. Way back on Day 6 she was shuttling a group of friends who were out hiking that week, but there was no way that this was the same car and owner. While coming down Little Boardman Mountain, I was pleasantly surprised to find that my intuitions were correct. Amoeba and her friends were coming up the backside of the mountain and she immediately recognized us and wanted to take our picture again. She told us that she knew we would make it and was proud of how well we had done. The group made a stop at Cooper Brook Falls Lean-to for a snack break before hoofing it at top speed to Jo-Mary Road. We made great time over this almost completely flat section. At the road crossing the guys broke out lunch and sat out in the sun. I filled up my Camelbak from the stream that paralleled the trail and then sat in the shade to finish off my graham crackers and peanut butter. After a few minutes the guys admitted the shade was a great idea and then moved to my side of the road. A few cars came roaring over the bridge and flew past us at unsafe speeds and then a couple of hikers came out of the woods looking to get a hitch to the campground six miles from here. With some luck they were able to flag down a truck that gave them a ride.

PM: After lunch we continued to follow the stream until its outlet at Jo-Mary Lake and Antler’s Campsite. Antler’s was rated as Pooh’s (trail magic at Trapper John Shelter) favorite campsite on the entire AT namely because you have a great view of Mt. Katahdin looming over the lake. Plus it has the famed Fort Relief where all the very important business gets done. At this point I was hiking alone so I didn’t spend much time here and cruised on by making my way to Potaywadjo Spring Lean-to where I had to take a moment to find the 15-foot wide spring that the shelter is known for. Shortly afterwards I crossed the Mahar Trail which will eventually take you 1.2 miles to a dock where you sound an air-horn for someone to come pick you up and ferry you to White House Landing. They offer everything from lodging to Linda’s famous one-pound burger. Sadly we had ruled out the possibility of making a stop there due to time and money restrictions no matter how tempting it all sounded. I pushed onward and followed the Nahmakanta Stream until I reached the campground we had planned to stay that night. I found Crocstar, Nick, and Spoon hanging around a campfire that a couple of hikers had started. There was a father and son sitting around their campfire cooking steaks that, or course, Spoon became very interested in. When we went to go put our tent up he made a comment about how the ’steak looked really good’, fishing for some kind of handout. As much as we liked to make fun of him for asking people for food all the time, when our dinner was finally ready we each had a hunk of steak and a bunch of extra rice to add to the pot. Later that night, Spicoli, Flying Scotsman, and company came roaring into the campsite with goodies they had packed out from White House Landing. They had each packed away about $20 worth of food and brought back some sodas for the guys that were already here. Once it got dark and cold, Spoon and I retreated to our tent to call it a day. I was exhausted.

From Hazard’s notes:
Travel:
Day 118: September 4, 2009
From: Cloud Pond Lean-to, ME
To: Logan Brook Lean-to, ME
Beginning: 6:30am
Ending: 5:30pm
Number of miles hiked:
a) Trail – 24
b) other – .4 back to AT
c) AT Mile Marker – 2106.8 cumulative.
Weather:
AM & PM: Surprisingly comfortable wake up temperature and perfect weather throughout the day.
People: Pennywhistle, Strider.
Animals: Birds floating above the ridges, the wild bulldozer and other loud machinery.
Money: $0, $2141 cumulative.
Notes of the day:
AM: My alarm went off at 5:00 am this morning and both Spoon and I took one look at each other and then fell back asleep. I finally pulled myself out of the tent about a half hour later and noticed how bright the moon was reflecting off of the pond. I quickly grabbed my camera and snapped a few shots of the moon as it sank behind the mountains in the distance. As we ate breakfast Pennywhistle was already on the move and she booked it out of camp before it was even light out. I walked up to the shelter and could see Crocstar still working on breakfast and told him and Nick that Spoon and I were going to get started and agreed on stopping at Logan Brook Lean-to this evening. There had been some disputes as to how fast we wanted to go through the 100-mile wilderness to either summit on the 8th or the 9th. The benefits of Nick’s parents meeting us on the 7th outweighed the benefits of summiting on 9/9/09. Today was definitely going to be the hardest day through the 100-miles as we had to go over the 4-5 peaks leading up to Chairback Mtn. before descending into the valley to loop back and go up the triple threat of West Peak, Hay Mtn, and finally White Cap Mtn. Spoon and I started the day off right by powering over Fourth and Third Mtn. Somewhere along the way I stopped to take a few pictures of the exotic and rare carnivorous pitcher plant that grows in the peat bogs of Maine. By the time we got to West Chairback Pond Trail Crocstar had caught up to us and when we stopped for water at a mountain stream that bisected the trail Nick joined the pack. Spoon and I finally caught up with and passed Pennywhistle coming down Chairback Mtn. and she told us she saw Mt. Katahdin on one of the peaks behind us but I never saw anything or even know what to look for on the horizon. I realized I had been hiking toward this mountain for almost four months and had no clue what it looked like or what to expect. She said the best way to figure out which one was Mt. Katahdin was to look for the mountain that rose steep on the sides but had a flat top. I found myself looking all day for something that fit the description but I also had no idea in what direction or distance to look for the mighty Mt. Katahdin. Once we got down into the valley the trail makes a strange and unnecessary turn backward so that we can go up spine of the next big ridge. No skipping any mountains for us! If one looked at a map of the 114 miles or so leading up to Mt. Katahdin you would see how the trail snakes back and forth going around lakes, pond, and over mountains adding up to a considerable amount of “bonus” miles. Down in the valley, Spoon and I came upon the west branch of the Pleasant River which we had to take off our boots and ford. After that little refreshing splash we sat down on the bank of the river, dried our feet, ate lunch, and listened to a sour old British hiker complain about the trail.

PM: Pennywhistle joined us shortly afterwards and then we all left the river at the same time. As we approached the side trail to Gulf Hagas we ran into a MATC ridgerunner from we which stopped and got some trail information. The gulf was formed by water eroding the slate walls of a narrow canyon resulting in a stretch of many spectacular waterfalls that as a result receives a lot of visitors. Pennywhistle hung around talking to the ridgerunner while Spoon and I moved on. At Carl A. Newhall Lean-to, where we initially planned on stopping, we took a break to eat some food and resupply water at Gulf Hagas Brook. Crocstar came hiking through from the side trail to the shelter and stopped for just a minute to chat before moving on towards Gulf Hagas Mtn. On the way up Gulf Hagas Mtn. I was astonished as to how much the trail had been maintained and that much of it looked like new trail as the dirt was still loose around the rock staircases. We hiked up two more peaks, I thought I saw Katahdin through the trees a few times. We couldn’t find the trail around Sidney Tappan Campsite, and finally made our way up White Cap to the final peak. I got in front of Spoon when he stopped for a Snickers bar and powered my way up White Cap but was hugely disappointed when I got to the top because all of the view was directed south so there was no view of Mt. Katahdin. I thought for sure we would finally get a peek at the monster we had been chasing for so long. From the peak, the rocky trail circled around to the other side of the mountain and when I broke my concentration from my feet and looked out over the horizon – I saw it. Far away in the distance a mountain that fit Pennywhistle’s description perfectly. Right then I knew I was looking at Katahdin in the distance and I was blown away. I pulled out my camera to take a few shots and then sat down on the trail to admire what the Indians call the “greatest mountain.” Spoon came up behind me and took a minute to relish the moment we had been waiting for so long. Unfortunately the sun was setting and we needed to get to the shelter so we continued down the mountain to our destination. A little while later we came upon Crocstar and Nick hanging around the shelter and we were the only ones who were there at the moment which we were stoked about. I had speculated that after all of the people we had seen the past few days that the shelter would be full. After dropping my pack I headed over to Logan Brook to fill my water and was warned by Nick to be careful not to slip and fall in as he had soaked his shoes earlier getting water himself. I came back just as dry as I left and prepared dinner for Spoon and I. Late that night Pennywhistle came into camp and we all wondered if Strider was going to make it to the shelter tonight. Pennywhistle and Strider had made a pact to summit Mt. Katahdin on the 7th of September because Strider had a plane he needed to catch. From tonight’s shelter they would have to do back to back 33 mile days to make it in time. And that is why you don’t buy a plane ticket out of Maine in advance.

From Hazard’s notes:
Day 117: September 3, 2009
Travel:
From: ME 15; Monson, ME
To: Cloud Pond Lean-to, ME
Beginning: 10:00am
Ending: 7:00pm
Number of miles hiked:
a) Trail – 19.1
b) other – .4 to shelter
c) AT Mile Marker – 2082.8 cumulative.
Weather:
AM & PM: Cold in the morning, but sunny and 60s all afternoon.
People: Rebekah, Pennywhistle, Strider, Kermit.
Animals:
Money: $7 for breakfast at Shaw’s, $2141 cumulative.
Notes of the day:
AM: I rolled off my sleeping pad and downstairs to move our laundry from last night into the dryer. Rebekah came over to me and wanted to apologize to me for being a little snappy at Nick last night and inside I felt really awful because this whole time we had been deceiving her and she was so nice to us and accommodating. So I had to play actor one last time to get away Scott-free. We had called Shaw’s last night to reserve a seat at the famous AYCE breakfast this morning. At Shaw’s we met a few new hikers including Strider and Pennywhistle who were hoping to make it to Katahdin in four days so that Strider to catch a plane he had booked in advance. We all sat at the table which is flanked by two huge maps on either side of the wall, one of the United States and one of the World. It was each hiker’s duty to put a pin into the map indicating where they were from and it was fascinating to see how far some people had come to hike the trail. Our hosts were busy in the kitchen frying, toasting, and scrambling a huge volume of food. The lady came over to the table and asked simply, “How many?” The proper hiker response was a reasonable number keeping in mind that they were expected to eat what was given to them. With a few exceptions, the most common response was “Three”. This meant 3 eggs, 3 sausages, 3 pieces of bacon, and 3 pieces of french toast would land in front of you very shortly. Everything was absolutely delicious and served with milk and orange juice and we could just keep asking for more food until we were stuffed to the brim. After a little bit of time to digest, we waddled back to the Lake Shore House to gather our clothes and get ready to get back on the trail. My poor pack was so full I could barely buckle all the straps and it was so heavy it was a real struggle to sling it on my back. This sad story was shared amongst the group as everyone was leaving town feeling overloaded. Strider had told us at breakfast that the more afraid a hiker was of the upcoming section of trail the heavier their pack was leaving town. To which he jokingly remarked, “I’m going to show the trail how unafraid I am by taking on the 100 mile wilderness without a pack altogether!” We regrouped at a picnic table next to the general store to stick our thumbs out and hope for a ride. Getting a hitch for four people at a time is always very tricky so we decided to go two at a time. Spoon and Croc got a ride fairly quickly and then Nick and I were offered a ride by the man who lived in the house we were standing in front of since he needed to drop some mail off by the Post Office anyway. At the trailhead Spoon and I took some pictures next to the sign showing Katahdin only 112 miles away and the sign warning hikers that they were entering the 100 mile wilderness. I had never been slowed down by my pack until today where I felt really sluggish with all the extra weight so much that I stopped at the first shelter, where Spoon had stopped for a quick break, and ate the equivalent of my lunch for the day only hours after our huge breakfast. My pack was so tight that my Jet Boil pot had been bent. Strider arrived shortly afterwards and took a break as well. Even though terrain-wise I only had to worry about climbing Barren Mtn., just before the shelter, I knew it was going to be a long day.

PM: At the start of the 100 mile wilderness a pair of crutches hung from a branch in a tree and I wondered if that was a sign of what was to come or some kind of bad omen. Aside from my package of bagels squeezing out of my pack and having to go back and retrieve them it was a beautiful day to be hiking in Maine. The trail skirted the shores of North Pond and then followed Little Wilson Falls down to Little Wilson stream where the trail followed the stream for a few miles until I crossed over it and headed back up the mountain. Shortly after crossing the Canadian Pacific RR, I ran into a familiar face heading southbound. Her name was SnP (last saw her way back in Shenandoah NP) and she told me that she had spoken to the rest of the guys at the shelter up ahead. Hoping I would catch up to the group, I booked it to the shelter only to find it empty. I took a decent break, eating more food and making use of the privy. I was getting low on water but had no means to purify the source at the shelter because Spoon was somewhere ahead of me and I was worried about running out before I saw him again. Thankfully at the Long Pond Stream ford a pair of hikers were pumping water out of the stream and I asked them if I could use their pump to fill my Nalgene which I figured would be enough to get me up the mountain. They did me one better by filling my Nalgene for me while I got my Crocs on for the stream crossing and then steadied the rope while I made my way across. This was the deepest ford I had encountered so far on the trail with the water reaching my upper thighs. I skipped the next shelter in the interest of time and got to climbing Barren Mtn. as quickly as I could. Dusk was upon my by the time I got to the top of Barren Mtn. Another hiker had set up his tent at the very top and warned me that the trail did not go past his tent but around it. Apparently some hikers had stomped through earlier and I knew it had to be Spoon and the gang. I paused momentarily to take in the amazing sunset and then got moving again because I still had another mile to go before I hit the side trail to the shelter and was out of water. When I got to the shelter area the place was packed and just for location alone I could see how it attracted so many hikers. Spoon and I set up our tent with Cloud Pond just a few meters away and started to cook dinner. Crocstar and Nick had set themselves up at the shelter so I didn’t end up seeing them that night. Pennywhistle came into camp and cooked dinner beside us and we had a good chat while our food rehydrated. Just as we were about to eat we heard someone yelling for help back down the trail and blowing a whistle. We called back trying to figure out what was going on and if they actually needed assistance. Spoon, Pennywhistle, and I were just starting to hike back to the AT when the person in distress yelled back and said she was ok now. When she arrived in camp we immediately recognized her as Kermit who we had last seen in New Hampshire and she told us she had fallen in the dark and couldn’t find her headlamp and then got disoriented on the trail to the shelter. Strider had caught up to her and helped her get to the shelter. When everyone was settled down Spoon and I finished our dinner and promptly crawled into the tent to prepare for an early rise tomorrow.

From Hazard’s notes:
Day 116: September 2, 2009
Travel:
From: Moxie Bald Lean-to, ME
To: ME 15; Monson, ME
Beginning: 8:00am
Ending: 2:15pm
Number of miles hiked:
a) Trail – 17.9
b) other -
c) AT Mile Marker – 2063.7 cumulative
Weather:
AM & PM: Beautiful day again, perfect weather.
People: Rebekah, Flying Scotsman, Spicoli and crew, Hobbit.
Animals:
Money: $4 shuttle, $4 fuel at outfitter, $45 resupply, $35 for room, $10 dinner, $2 laundry.  $2134 cumulative.
Notes of the day:
AM:  A typical morning with Nick being super pumped and ready to get moving way before anyone else wanted to hike.  We trickled out of camp one by one and I took a stop in the privy on the way out which put me quite a ways behind Crocstar.  Once I got moving down the trail I hiked around Bald Mountain Pond where we stayed the night and then I had to negotiate a stream ford which was surprisingly not featured in the guidebook.  The water was at least deep enough to swallow your boot and fast enough to possibly throw you off balance.  Hikers and maintainers before us had created a path with rocks and limbs to keep our boots dry and tied a rope that spanned the stream crossing so we could keep our balance.  After a quick hop across the stream I chugged along the trail excited that we had no real mountains to climb today and we would be getting into Monson by the end of the day which would be our final resupply of this crazy adventure.  When I came upon the west branch of the Piscataquis River I saw Crocstar in the middle of the river with his boots slung over his backpack.  I dropped my pack, took off my boots and socks, put on my Crocs and then waded out into the river.  Just as I expected the water temperature was frigid and it shocked my feet a little, but after a couple of steps it felt a little refreshing.  On the other side, I caught Crocstar in the middle of his smoke break snacking away on a Pop-tart.  I put on my shoes and decided I didn’t need much of a break so I continued on my way.  Naturally Croc caught up and passed me a couple of miles down the line but I once again ran into him while he was taking his hourly smoke break this time at the east branch of the Piscataquis River.  I saw him sitting on the other side of the river and I called over to him and asked, “Do I have to take my boots off for this one?”  His reply was that he didn’t but one of his boots took a swim for a second when he slipped.  I decided to take on the challenge and attempted a rock hop over what is normally a ford.  I made it across without any water coming over the top and into my boot.  I sat with Croc for a few minutes before getting another small head start on him.  The next section of trail we would slowly climb a couple hundred feet and eventually arrive at the blue-blaze trail to Monson.  Some hikers when they get to that point take the side trail which gets them directly into town via a road walk and shaves a mile off of the regular route.  But for us this wasn’t an option and we would be hiking on to Maine 15 where we would have to find a hitch into town.

PM:  Almost an hour on the nose after we had last taken a break, I met back up with Crocstar at the blue-blaze trail and had my final Snickers bar.  We joked about how nice it would be to take the side trail and how it could either be a cakewalk or how it would be funny if there was somehow a huge mountain between here and Monson that would take hikers hours to climb.  It was roughly another three miles to Maine 15 so I told Croc I’d see him in an hour and off we went.  I found him sitting on the rock ledge next to Maine 15, looking down at the parking lot across the street at Spoon and Nick trying to bum a ride off of the people leaving.  This area was pretty unique as far as road crossings go.  We had been walking on dirt and root trail all day and only when I was about to hit the road did I encounter a big sheet of rock.  Whenever the road was created the mountainside was carved out leaving the sides almost vertical so I had to come down off this ledge to reach the road and cross into the parking lot.  Thankfully Spoon and Nick had been here awhile and negotiated a ride with a nice guy and his dog to get us into town.  We all piled into his Jeep and with his dog riding in his lap we headed for Monson.  When we got into town the three other guys went into the Post Office while I walked down the street to the Lake Shore House to figure out what the story was on our lodging for the night.  Monson can be described as another small Maine town consisting of a main road with shops and homes straddling either side and one or two side streets.  I stepped inside the Lake Shore House and was surprised to see a small laundromat operation going on in the front room.  I moved further back into the house and passed the kitchen where I saw the cook serving up a late lunch to the people sitting in the restaurant at the rear of the building.  I was a little confused as to who to talk to until Rebekah saw me and helped me out.  She was the owner of the place and I told her I had called a couple days in advance to reserve a room.  She took me upstairs and showed me the hostel area which was really nice as it had a common sitting room with a TV with lots of movies, a laptop with Internet, a fridge, microwave, and hiker box.  While we were talking she gave me the impression that she really wanted to make sure that it was only myself and one other hiker staying in that room which I reluctantly assured her that that was the case.  Since I had planned on stuffing all four of us into that room because we were all starting to run out of AT funds we would all have to act out this unified lie and hope we didn’t get caught.  I walked back to the post office to talk the situation over with the guys.  Nick had his resupply box, Crocstar had a care package from his mom with 4-5 dozen cookies that he didn’t know what he was going to do with along with his new camera that finally made it, and Spoon received his carepackage from his step-brother.  It looked like Christmas outside the post office with packages and goods spread all over the place.  Our plan for getting all of us into that one room without Rebekah finding out was to act like Spoon and I were the two sleeping in the room and Nick and Crocstar were friends we had met on the trail today but were staying over at Shaw’s, a hostel down the street.  So if she saw them in the common area they were just “visiting”.  We got all of our stuff into the room and then inquired about getting a shuttle over to the neighboring town of Greenville where we could resupply.  There was a shuttle running later that afternoon which cost $20 but we were able to split it five ways with another hiker named Hobbit.  While waiting for our ride to arrive we met Flying Scotsman, Spicoli, and their gang while they were preparing to hitch back to the trail.  Our driver dropped us off at Northwoods Outfitter, who were awesome and fixed my poles to perfection, giving me one new middle shaft and two new bottom shafts so that I finally had two working poles for the final leg of the trek.  I also got some fuel since Spoon and I had been bumming off of Crocstar the past two nights and Crocstar bought a package of pop-tops for his Platypus which come in sets of two so he gave one to Spoon.  Then we hit the grocery store for resupply where I bought my final pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.  When we got back to Monson and started repacking our food all of us found out really quick that we had more food than we could fit into our packs.  All of us were trying to pass food off to one another but we couldn’t carry it.  Crocstar, Spoon, and I went downstairs to the restaurant for dinner while Nick stayed in the room watching TV and ate the microwave pizzas he bought at the grocery store.  After dinner, I gathered up the clothes and got laundry going and then we put “The Big Lebowski” on and sat around eating ice cream and relaxing.  Some point during the movie Rebekah came out and scolded Nick for being on the computer since it was a privilege only for guests so he apologized denying any knowledge of such a rule.  One by one, everyone went off to bed.  I sat and worked on the computer until the movie was over and then I turned everything off and went to bed.  Spoon and Nick had claimed the double bed and Crocstar was passed out on the single mattress that had been standing up in the corner of the room, so I rolled out my sleeping pad and laid down on the floor and got some “Zzzzz’s”.

From Hazard’s notes:
Day 115: September 1, 2009
Travel:
From: Pierce Pond Lean-to, ME
To: Moxie Bald Lean-to, ME
Beginning: 7:45am
Ending: 5:00pm
Number of miles hiked:
a) Trail – 22.8
b) other – .2 to and from Harrison’s camp
c) AT Mile Marker – 2045.8 cumulative.
Weather:
AM & PM: Sunny and beautiful all day.
People: Tim Harrison, Ferryman Dave Corrigan (http://www.bangordailynews.com/detail/120433.html).
Animals: None
Money: $10 for breakfast, $2034 cumulative.
Notes of the day:
AM: Woke up early and made the short hike to Harrison’s Pierce Pond Camps to have our over-the-top trail breakfast. When Tim let us inside the kitchen and dinning area the whole room smelled of delicious food. He told us there was hot water for tea and coffee and that the food would be ready in just a few minutes. He came out of the kitchen carrying these big platters of 12 pancakes layered with all kinds of fresh fruit including strawberries, blueberries, and apples. That alone would knock out almost any normal person but we upped the ante with a plate of bacon and eggs each. After we stuffed ourselves full and had a few minutes to digest, it was time to thank Tim and head out. We tossed our trash and filled our water with what Tim called the best tasting water in the area and then got back on the trail. Spoon still wasn’t talking to me this morning so we walked in silence for a little while before I fell behind and was walking alone once again. I caught up to him a few miles down the trail at the Kennebec River where we had to take the ferry across. The Kennebec (meaning “long, quiet water”) is actually the most formidable unbridged water-crossing on the Appalachian Trail. The official route across the river is via the Kennebec River Ferry sponsored by the Fletcher Mountain Outfitters and operated by “Ferryman Dave” a registered Maine Master Guide. There is actually a white blaze painted in the bottom of the canoe. Ferryman Dave and Spoon were getting close to launch when I arrived and they waited for me to fill out the liability waiver and throw on a PFD. Spoon took the front of the boat and I sat in the middle snapping pictures while Dave steered in the back. When we arrived on the other bank of the river we collected our gear and hiked on climbing steady to Pleasant Pond Lean-to. Crocstar and Nick were relaxing at the lean-to eating lunch. I took the time to eat some of my food and rehydrate.

PM: We all departed after filling our water at the spring and headed toward the summit of Pleasant Pond Mtn. which wasn’t a very pleasant climb being very rocky and rooty in addition to its steepness. The view from the top was just another testament to how beautiful the state of Maine is from above. The trail took me back down to the valley, around Moxie Pond, and through swampy forests before reaching the side trail to Bald Mtn Brook Lean-to. I thought I smelled the smoke from Crocstar’s cigarettes but I was motivated to just keep hiking. The trail turned from the usual dirt path to a rock slab covered by moss on either side of the narrow trail leading me closer to the top of the mountain. Soon the trees faded away and the trail was only identifiable by rock cairns set on top of expansive bare stone. When I had almost made it to the sign designating the Moxie Bald Mtn. summit I heard Spoon call my name from behind me and down the mountain I could see Spoon and Crocstar making their way up towards me. I snapped a picture of them on top of the summit as I made my way down, not really wanting to hang around too long because the sun was getting pretty low in the sky. As I left the summit, I had to make a bunch of moves to avoid large patches of mud that the trail had turned into. I was quite successful in keeping to the edges of the trail but as I hopped from one rock to the edge of the trail and landed in a bush, the bush pushed me back out to the middle of the trail and my boot sank a good couple of feet into the wet mud. I screamed “Noooooooo!” and struggled to regain my balance but the damage was already done. I hiked down the mountain to Moxie Bald Lean-to with a heavy, muddy, and wet boot and sock. When I got to the lean-to I was relieved to find only Nick’s gear inside but saw that at the edge of Bald Mountain Pond he was sitting with another hiker at a picnic table. When Spoon and Crocstar came into camp I was super pumped to tell them that we had a picnic table and they let out cries of excitement. Our reaction regarding a picnic table was not unfounded since it had been a really long time since we had had a picnic table at our shelter. They are very rare in New England. The guidebook states that there are “many moose in the area” and we were all hoping to see or hear moose at some point on the trail. We had a quiet evening with no moose activity and I read a Backpacker Magazine I had thrown in my pack from Pleasant Pond Lean-to then went to sleep.