From Hazard’s notes:
Day 122: September 8, 2009
Travel:
From: Katahdin Stream Campground; Millinocket, ME
To: Mt. Katahdin, ME
Beginning: 7:15am
Ending: 9:15am
Number of miles hiked:
a) Trail – 5.3
b) other – 5.3 back down Katahdin.
c) AT Mile Marker – 2178.3 cumulative.
Weather:
AM: Sunny and cold at lower elevations. As we got higher the clouds rolled in and covered the top of Katahdin. The clouds broke for only a short while and I could see the top and then it was covered once again.
PM: The clouds burned off early afternoon and we could see the summit of Katahdin clearly from the south gate.
People: Nick’s Parents. My Dad! Flying Scotsman crew.
Animals: The party animals on top of Katahdin!
Money: $0, $2142 cumulative.
Notes of the day:
AM: For the final time on this journey I woke up before the sun. Nick was full of energy rushing us to get ready and downstairs for the continental breakfast. Crocstar, Spoon, and I decided the best course of action was to pack all of our gear and leave it at the ranger station since Nick was summiting with his dad and they would then head back into town on their own. We packed away as many muffins, bagels, and cereal we could until Nick ran us out of there and into the car. When we got to the south gate at Baxter State Park the gate was still closed because being the day after Labor Day, new park hours were in affect and we would have to wait until 6:00 am. Even arriving half an hour ahead of opening put us third in line to get into the park. Once things got moving we handed the ranger our permits and rolled on to Katahdin Stream Campground. Spoon and I picked up our daypacks and filled them with our water, warm clothes, some snacks, and left the rest behind. We gave Nick and his Dad a head start while Crocstar finished up his morning smoke. We signed the clipboard at the trailhead indicating the time we left the campground (just before 7:00 am) and what trail we intended to take up and then back down. It wasn’t long before we passed Nick and his Dad. The first section of trail is surprisingly easy as the trail is well graded, rising gently until we reached Katahdin Stream Falls, a spectacular cascade of water and probably a great swimming hole if it wasn’t so cold. Once past the Falls, the trail turned into a rock staircase until a detour took us off the blazed path in order for a maintenance crew to repair a section of trail. After the quick bushwhacking session the trail turned creek-like and I hopped around choosing my foot placement very carefully to not soak my boots. Then I came upon the boulder section. Massive boulders were scattered all over the trail forcing me to use creative methods to lift and pull myself up each obstacle. I could see the clouds crashing into the mountains to the west and above me a gray ceiling blocking my view of what lay ahead. From the boulder crawl the trail left the dirt path and I began my climb up the jagged spine of Katahdin. This was the part that weeds out the weak. I had to lift myself up rock cracks, wedge my foot into rock and metal footholds, and generally found myself in situations that would benefit from a rope and harness. I pulled myself onto a sandy ledge and the blazes in front of me seemed to be relatively level and then the trail rose up slightly into the clouds. As I hiked onward the clouds slowly blew out the way revealing the towering rock pile I had to scramble up if I wanted any hope of seeing the top of this mountain. I could hear Spoon and Crocstar ahead climbing up the rock face and I yelled up to them, “Katahdin!” and they shouted back in reply. When I finally got to the top of this section I could see Nick and his Dad just arriving to the sandy ledge. Now I had arrived at Mt. Katahdin’s Tableland which was pleasantly flat and is where I got my first sighting of the summit. The trail now had rope on either side of it to keep hikers off of the alpine vegetation and on the marked path. I can imagine from this point many AT thru-hikers would want to just take off running toward the summit without any regard for the fragile plant life. I could still see Crocstar and Spoon just ahead of me and I did my best to pick up my pace but I knew they were doing the same – the end was in sight. Arriving at Thoreau Spring, which has sadly been dry for awhile, signified I had reached the final mile of the trail and with the weather looking to hold out for a while. Oh how wrong was I. As I began my final approach to the summit, the clouds came surging back and smothered the mountain a dense haze that severely lowered my visibility, yet I charged on. Through the mist I could barely make out the silhouettes of a sign and of Spoon and Crocstar. I walked up to the final white blaze of the Appalachian Trail to the cheers of my friends and I dropped my backpack to the ground. I had made it! I was an Appalachian Trail Thru-hiker. One of an elite club of roughtly 11,000 from 1948 to the present. I immediately pulled off my soaked shirt and handed the camera to Spoon so I could climb up onto the sign marking the summit to throw my arms into the air and belt out a cry of victory. It felt almost euphoric too, for a moment, felt like I had just conquered the entire world and then it felt really cold so I quickly pulled out my fleece and Marmot from my backpack to warm up. All in all it only took me about two and a half hours to make the climb to the summit and then only 30 minutes more for Nick and his Dad to show up and join in the celebration. Spoon popped open the champagne he hauled to the summit on Nick’s behalf and passed around the bubbly only after making a complete mess with his poor drinking abilities. He threw back the bottle for a swig only to have it shoot out of his mouth like a geyser. Everyone as a result exploded into laughter. We all had a lot of fun in celebration, taking pictures and congratulating each other on our achievement. Soon more people started to show up who were either at the end of their own AT journey or a much shorter hike. Sitting against a rock to block the wind Spoon and I watched other hikers go through the same experience of finishing a 2,178 mile hike and I just felt so proud of them. Some had brought their wives or girlfriends up with them and even over that short 5.3 mile climb they were tearing up for the joy of getting to the top and seeing their mate put an end to their thru-hike. Amidst all of the emotional commotion Spoon and I recorded our final video blog. Shortly thereafter we couldn’t wait for the weather to clear up any longer and decided to hike down off the summit. The others in our group had left over an hour ago and Spoon was anxious to be through hiking. As we came off of the summit we saw Flying Scotsman, Spicoli, and their crew cruising up the mountain with “Flight of the Valkyries” booming from their iPod’s Extreme Katahdin Mix. Spoon and I cheered them on as we passed.
PM: I should have known that as soon as we entered the Tablelands the sun would come back out and the clouds would burn off. I turned around and could see the summit clearly. We sat in the cold, wet clouds for hours and only when we leave did conditions improve. Oh well. Coming down the mountain was a lot harder than going up. We had to lower ourselves down carefully on slick, sharp rocks so not to fall to our deaths. We ran into the trail maintenance crew on the way down who had opened up the closed section of trail. A quick note on the clipboard at the bottom of the mountain of our time of return and we were off the hook. Crocstar was sitting in the pavilion with bunch of gauze cleaning up his leg. A sharp root jutting out of the side of the trail managed to give him a deep cut just above his knee. For a guy who had to hike 500 miles or more with damaged ribs, this was just excessive. We turned in our backpacks, put our last notes in the hiker register, and then walked out to the road to hitch a ride to the south gate. A truck came rolling by and we immediately recognized the driver. It was Ferryman Dave who paddled us across the Kennebec River and he was happy to provide us transport yet again. He took us to the gate where I told my Dad we would wait for him to pick us up. We waited only about 30 minutes before he rolled up in his 2009 Malibu rental car. I was really glad to see him and gave him a big hug. We piled into the little car and sped off to Millinocket to face our final and most difficult challenge of this long journey – the Summit Sundae Challenge at the Appalachian Trail Cafe. I called Nick so that he could come witness the action. To describe this sundae, it begins with 13 scoops of ice cream of chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, stacked on top of whatever pastry they can find (I had a chocolate doughnut), then they top it with bananas, a king size Snickers bar, M&Ms, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and cherries on top. That behemoth is served in a huge bowl and when it hits the table the clock starts. The time to beat is 10:02 by a “tiny little girl” who must have an immunity to cold. As I started to eat the dish I thought, “Wow, this is really tasty”, but toward the end, when I was shivering from the cold I swore I would never eat ice cream again. When I cleared the last bite, just ahead of Crocstar, my stomach felt like it was going to burst. My time: 23 minutes. My trophy? A T-shirt and a bumper sticker. Spoon was unable to finish. After signing the wall (for the challenge finishers) and a ceiling tile (for all AT hikers), we said our last goodbye to Nick and his family and headed to Bangor. We got a motel room, clean, a bite to eat at the Applebees, and passd out with a severe case of full-belly.
