Limb art in the fog at Mountain View Pond Civilized, colorful stone steps on the descent from Whitecap Mountain.     9-20-05

Thank you for the compliments, BT. Your comment re: guts helped propel me to get out on the Trail again today. I was apprehensive about several things that never materialized but could have, based on my prior experiences on the AT.

 

"Possible showers" were predicted for the mountains in northern Maine this afternoon. I'm still a bit paranoid about swollen streams after what happened Saturday, so the two river and multiple creek crossings in this 21-mile section concerned me.

 

Yesterday I had trouble in broad daylight finding my way across the bedrock on Chairback Mountain. And I still remember the difficulty finding blazes and cairns on Mt. Madison in the fog, sleet, and high wind several weeks ago. What if one or more of today's five mountains were poorly marked and I couldn't find my way in fog and rain?

 

Oh, yeah - it was also supposed to be very windy. I've already been hit with a flying branch during a gust and could barely stand up on Mt. Madison in the gale.

 

Last week I wrote incorrectly that one of the mountains I summitted was the last one over tree line until Mt. Katahdin at the end. I was wrong. Whitecap's trees end just before the top (3,650 feet). About a quarter mile of rocks are exposed to the elements.

 

So once again I worried all night and didn't sleep as well as I should. Jim thinks I worry needlessly because most times what I worry about doesn't occur. But I thought these were perfectly valid concerns, considering what has happened previous times this summer and fall.

 

Fortunately, the creeks and rivers weren't high (although crossing the East Branch of Pleasant River wasn't nearly as pleasant as crossing the West Branch), I barely got rained on the whole day (Jim said it rained off and on all day in the valley), I didn't get hit with flying limbs (the Trail was well protected from the wind except on the very top of Whitecap Mountain), and the Trail was very well marked today.

 

Whew!

 

MOUNTAIN ROLLER COASTER

 

The morning started off with the full harvest moon shining brightly, then the sun peeked through a few clouds. It was 52 degrees when I got on the Trail about 6:45 AM and waded through the wide, shallow East Branch of the Pleasant River.

 

I really enjoyed following the river, then Gulf Hagas Brook, for about five miles as I climbed Gulf Hagas Mountain. The Gulf Hagas area has its own network of trails that are very popular with hikers.  The Gulf is a deep 2,000-acre slate canyon with precipitous cliffs, waterfalls, and interesting rock formations that is now owned by the National Park Service so it cannot be developed or logged. 

 

The clouds increased rapidly by mid-morning, about the time I topped Gulf Hagas Mountain at 2,750 feet. I kept moving forward as quickly as I could, considering I had a gain of 2,050 feet from the river to the top of Gulf Hagas in the first six miles.

 

Each of the next three mountains was a bit higher than the last. Fortunately, the descents to each gap weren't too great, usually about 250 to 400 feet. West Peak was next, topping out at 3,250 feet, then Hay Mountain at about 3,400 feet.

 

I got into the clouds and mist near the top of Hay Mountain. By then, about 11 AM, the wind was howling so loud above me that it sounded like airplanes flying close overhead. But the Trail was well-protected from the wind in the tall pine trees. I stopped about 25 minutes to put on my Marmot Precip pants and jacket, fleece hat, and gloves and sat on a log to wait out the storm.

 

It's a good thing I started moving when I got chilly, however, because I would have had to wait quite a while for the storm to pass! The summit of Hay was still treed, but I knew Whitecap wasn't. I moved on anyway.

 

Just before timber line on Whitecap, "Chainsaw" caught up to me. He also had trouble yesterday on Chairback, so we decided to stick together at the top to find our way over the rocks and down below tree line again.

 

Turns out the rocks were marked so clearly that we didn't have to stay together. Chainsaw stopped to do something with his pack and I went on ahead. The wind was so fierce that we had trouble standing up! It was also sleeting and the ice crystals hurt my face.

 

I did stop a minute to take a couple foggy photos. Here's one of them, looking back at Chainsaw, who is nearly invisible in the cloud:

 

 

Most of the climbs and descents today were moderate but some were fairly steep. I was impressed with all the work the Maine AT Club did installing some rock steps on either side of Whitecap. They used deep blue-gray slate, nondescript gray granite, white quartz, and some reddish rocks, making for a colorful rainbow (photo above). Very nice!

 

Including a fifth mountain in the 20th mile (Little Boardman), the total elevation gain today was at least 5,200 feet, the most I've done in a while. Total descent was about 4,650. That's nearly 10,000 feet in 21 miles.

 

No wonder I'm tired tonight!

 

The Trail was not very runnable today. The footing was more "tedious" than "rugged." It was an improvement over previous Maine AT sections. Even though I was able to run about four miles my average pace was still almost 30 minutes a mile because of the climbs and mucky or rocky, rooty parts. There were fewer rock slabs and verticals than I've had recently. There is still a lot of slate here, mixed with granite.

 

I loved going up and down through all the usual eco zones all day. One of my favorite places was a little before the East Branch Lean-to. I dubbed it "The Enchanted Forest" because of all the bright green moss gone amok. It covers the ground, the small to huge rock boulders, and anything else that doesn't move. The trees in this area are tall pines, with few to no deciduous plants. The place enchanted me.

 

Maine is so beautiful with all its trees and lakes. The rugged Trail mostly drives me crazy, but the forests are just lovely and quiet. Jim mentioned recently that Maine reminds him of places he's been in Canada. I keep thinking that Canada is north of here, but it's also west of here! We're north of some parts of Canada now.

 

POINTING THE WAY

 

Since I was trying to get over Whitecap before the storm arrived, I was in RFM mode this morning and by-passed the first shelter. However, I needed to remove my jacket, pants, hat, and gloves after descending partway down Whitecap. I stopped at the Logan Brook Lean-to a mile down the mountain.

 

"Chainsaw" had passed me going down. I passed "49er" but he came in while I was at the shelter. Neither Jim nor I have met him before. We all talked about recent trail events, especially the flooded streams last weekend. That's a common Topic of Interest among hikers in Maine!

 

Chainsaw got to the Little and Big Wilson area on Sunday, the day after I crossed the raging Little Wilson River. He and other hikers considered it to still be too deep and swift to cross safely, so they by-passed about five miles of the Trail.

 

How did they know where to go? I sure didn't know any alternatives except going forward or going back seven miles to the road where I'd started that morning. I failed to see a trail next to the Little Wilson River. It wasn't on our AT map, so I wouldn't have taken it even if I'd seen it.

 

I asked Chainsaw how he knew to take that trail.

 

"They told me to look for the trekking pole and little bottle of soap," he replied.

 

I thought for a moment, pointed to my Hammergel flask, and asked Chainsaw if the "soap" container looked like this. He said yes, and I started laughing. (I quickly explained to him why so he wasn't offended.)

Remember on Saturday when Jim took a trail up to the Little Wilson River, mistaking it for the Big Wilson River, and left a pole, bottle of Hammergel, and half a food bar to show me what trail to take to by-pass the flooded river??

I'd already gone through that river and was bushwhacking my way down to our truck next to the Big Wilson. So the "pointers" weren't of any use to me. But they were to several other hikers, according to Chainsaw!

Somehow north-bound hikers got information by the next morning via the Trail grapevine that there was a by-pass trail to avoid both Wilson Rivers, which were down a bit Sunday but still too dangerous for most hikers to take.

What cracks me up is that folks think the Hammergel flask, full of Hammergel, is SOAP! (I've included a photo of what it looks like below.)

Pity the poor bloke who picks that up and uses it to "wash" his hands, hair, or clothes. What a gooey mess!!!

(It's my "secret" to getting up thousands of mountains on the AT, however: a gulp of Hammergel every fifteen minutes, chased with some water, and I can usually keep a steady pace up most climbs.)

BURN-OUT

At the third shelter, East Branch Lean-to, I again read and signed the register. "LB" and "To-Phat" were just ahead of us. "LB" wrote in huge letters covering half of the 8½ x 11- inch page, "I AM BURNT!!" echoing the feelings of many thru-hikers at this point. I've talked to several hikers since Pennsylvania who just want to be done, but they aren't about to quit so close to reaching their goal.

The Trail has been very difficult since early in New Hampshire. I can see why some hikers are "on their one last nerve." (I sometimes wonder what my foreign readers think of American expressions like this!)

Others, like Buffet and Goat, seem to be slowing down to savor the last few miles ahead of them. They are thoroughly enjoying their journey and don't want it to end so soon.

I'm somewhere in between, tired and wanting to go home, but knowing I'll miss the utter simplicity of running and walking through serene forests and up and over mountains day after day after day.

The AT gets in your blood. I completely understand why some folks keep returning to it.

Sue "Runtrails & Company" - Sue Norwood, Jim O'Neil, Cody, and Tater Previous       Next Send an e-mail message to Sue & Jim   © 2005 Sue Norwood and Jim O'Neil