We did not do justice to Maine, by neglecting to tell you about the amazing last few weeks of our journey. As we moved through the state, the mountain ranges grew somewhat smaller, and we started to see a lot more water - rivers, streams, and crystal clear lakes and ponds. So what's a hiker to do when there's water in the way? Luckily for us, it was a pretty dry year, and none of the fords were very challenging. If there are rocks to hop, we did that, but sometimes it was just easier to strip off boots and socks and wade across in our Crocs. Even a foot of flowing water exerts a tremendous force as it flows, and the bottom of the rivers were covered with slick, algae-covered stones, so we took our time and used our trek poles to stay balanced, which is what I'm doing here with Caveman of Ohio.
Many of the campsites we stayed at were near water. At Moxie Bald Lean-To, we awoke to an amazing sunrise over the pond, and fellow hiker, JEB, cooked his breakfast out on a rock, right at the water's edge. I never did see any leeches in these ponds, and the weather was warm enough on several occasions to take a mid-day dip. At the top of every mountain, the view included mountains in every direction and, literally, hundreds of ponds and lakes and streams in between them.
The guidebooks warn hikers that the Hundred Mile Wilderness is very remote, and to take 10 days worth of supplies. We found in to be neither more remote that many other sections of the AT, nor very difficult. Lots of logging roads cross the trail and a great deal of day hikers were in the area around Gulf Hagas. We also heard a lot of small airplanes flying and landing on the lakes. There were two major ranges to conquer - the Chairbacks and Whitecaps. As we left Monson, our enthusiasm was beginning to build and we did a pretty big day over moderately hilly terrain. That night, we slept near a waterfall. The next day, we started over the Chairbacks, which ended up being a somewhat demoralizing experience. Every time we thought we had gone over one of the peaks, it turned out we hadn't, and the day seemed to last forever. We were worried about doing the Whitecap range the next day, since they were taller and Whitecap is supposed to be very rocky on top, but we ended up flying over them. After that, the Wilderness is relatively flat, and we flew through a section of trail built over old logging road (no roots, soft pine duff, very flat tread - awesome!).
The excitement was building as we made fast progress through the last section. Maine, to that point, had been anything but easy, and it was fun to see the miles ticking away. As we approached the end of the trail, we began to catch glimpses of Mt. Katahdin, looming high above the landscape. The weater was outstanding over the last week, but the humidity was starting to build up and the temperatures rose into the low nineties on one of the last days. We ended up doing a couple of 20 mile days, rather by accident. At night, we drifted off to sleep listening to the sound of loons calling on the lake.
The Hundred Mile Wilderness ends at the boundary of Baxter State Park. We met a ridgerunner as soon as we got close and she told us that there was some rain in the forecast the next day, so we decided to stall and go up Katahdin the following day. Our last night outside the park was spent with Packrat, Lucky, Umbrella Lady, Habitual Hiker, Rio, Hemlock, Caveman of Ohio, and Bushwacker in a campground that sits on the West Branch River with outstanding views of Katahdin from our tent.
Then...Katahdin Eve! The day before summit! Because Katahdin has the single largest gain in altitude on the entire trail (4,000 feet in five miles), and the weather is extremely unpredictable and often kind of rotten, especially in the afternoon, the rangers recommend that you hike to the base on one day, spend the night, and then start up early in the morning. So we went up to the Birches campground, which is only for thru-hikers, cooked our last dehydrated meal for the trip, and had one last bonfire with our crew. The feel was very much like Christmas, and M and me and Caveman of Ohio woke up at 4:00 am, feeling giddy and nervous. We were up the mountain by 9:00 am and greeted to unbelievable, panoramic, clear views from the top with very little wind. This is highly unusual, but a very pleasureable way to experience your last moments on the AT. Check out the photos to see what the summit looked like.
It's hard to explain the emotions we felt as we descended. Katahdin had become an almost mythic presence in our lives for so long. I don't know if I ever really believed I was going to make it all the way, until I actually did. We had to say goodbye to people we had come to know and love, to rely on and laugh with. We were leaving a lifestyle that was blissfully simple, and incredibly challenging. We were finally thru-hikers, but we were done thru-hiking. We were very, very quiet on the first few miles down the mountain.
Then it sunk in that we were in the middle of rural Maine, 20 miles inside a State Park that has one dirt road leading into it, and we had no idea where we were going to sleep that night, much less how we were going to get back to Pittsburgh. The challenge reinvigorated us, and we started to happily chatter about our memories of the trail and what we were looking forward to at home.
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