Weekly Overview
Day 106
August 16, 2019
- Route: Lake of the Clouds Hut (Mile 1857.7) to Pinkham Notch (Mile 1872.6)
- Daily Mileage: 14.9 miles
I didn’t sleep well at Lake of the Clouds Hut. Sure I was indoors and warm, but I think I picked the worst spot possible to sleep. I was right off the main foot path between the dining area and the bathroom.
So all night long, smelly hiker feet were treading next to my head as they went back and forth to the bathroom. Every single person in the hut seemed to get up for a middle-of-the-night pee break. I seriously don’t think I got more than 10 minutes of uninterrupted sleep.
Then a massive thunderstorm rolled in around 2:30 am and the lightening lit up the giant windows on the far side of the dining room. The thunder seemed to be only inches above our heads and heavy rain pelted the roof for hours.
Finally at 5 am, the cooks got up and started banging around in the kitchen to begin their morning breakfast duties. That mayhem was the final straw. I was now up for good. I got dressed and started packing, the woke Luna for an early morning start.
MT WASHINGTON
The massive rain storm was supposed to end by 7:30 am, but it seemed to be tapering off early. So Luna and I set out for Mt. Washington at 6:25 am and hoped for the best.
I’d layered my rain gear over my hiking clothes, not because I worried about getting wet, but to stave off the cold. It was in the low 40s this morning and I was freezing, even with my hat and gloves and all my extra gear.
Luna, meanwhile, had no rain pants to wear. I don’t know how he continued to hike in that attire as we ascended Mt. Washington. I was cold just looking at him in just shorts and a rain jacket. It reminded me of that morning way back in the Smokies where he was shouting curses in Spanish because he was so damn cold!
It was only a mile and a half up to the summit of Mt. Washington, but the trail went sharply up from 5,000 feet at the hut to nearly 6,300 feet in that short distance.
As we neared the top, I could see the litany of antennas supporting the weather observatory on the summit, and the sun was trying it’s hardest to break through the clouds.
The rain seemed to be pushing out, but the clouds were still a moving target atop the summit making it hard to get a clear photo of our surroundings. We weren’t 100% alone either. One other hiker beat us up there this morning. So we asked him to take a photo of us by the wooden Mt. Washington sign.
It was still way too early for all the tourists to arrive, which made crossing over the cog rail tracks a little less stressful. I’d been up here a year ago with the massive crowds, and it was nice to enjoy it with barely a soul in sight!
It felt like you could see the entire state of New Hampshire from this summit! But it was way too cold and windy to stay up there for long. We needed to find lower ground, or at least keep moving to stay warm.
BLASTED ROCKS
The back side of Mt. Washington was not nearly as nice of a trail as the one coming up from the Lake of the Clouds Hut. In fact, calling it a trail might have been too generous. It was more akin to picking your way through a boulder field above treeline.
Our pace was barely at 1.25 mph and Luna was falling further and further behind me during the descent. Meanwhile, I bumped my shins on innumerable rocks, and my lower legs were starting to feel like a bruised banana underneath my rain pants.
Seven miles into morning, I reached the Madison Spring Hut and raced inside to warm up. My hands were still freezing and I desperately needed something warm to take the edge off.
Luckily, the kitchen had soup ready, so I was able to redeem my thru-hiker card for a free bowl of soup (plus purchase a cup of coffee and baked good for second breakfast).
I sat there inside the hut for a solid 25 minutes waiting for Luna and wondering how the heck he’d gotten so far behind me. Did he stop for a break somewhere else?
When Luna eventually showed up, he explained what happened to him. He’d turned his ankle on some of the rocks and was limping the final two miles to the hut. Ah man, these blasted rocks!
DON’T LOSE YOUR COOL
The ascent up Mt. Madison just beyond the hut was a brutal one, but I was feeling cheerful. This was the last big climb we’d have to do today.
Unfortunately, my good mood would be short-lived. I fell twice coming down the backside of Mt. Madison and injured my left shin and my left knee in the process. It seems as if the Whites are just beating the crap out of Luna and me today!
Once Luna and I got back below treeline, the trail seemed to dive down at a super steep and frustrating rate. Every step was painful. The only thing that kept me sane during this stretch down Mt. Madison was the knowledge that Keith and Finn were waiting for me at Pinkham Notch.
They were going to meets us at the trailhead near the visitor center and drive Luna and me into Gorham for dinner tonight. If I just stayed focused on town food, I felt like I could do endure anything.
Luna’s sore ankle caused him to lag behind during the descent, so I stopped to wait for him at Osgood Tentsite at the bottom of the climb. From there, the final 5 miles of hiking toward Pinkham Notch were actually lovely. We crossed a bunch of brooks and rivers and reveled in how nice and easy the trail the could be at times.
About half a mile from the trailhead, I spotted Finn heading toward us. Keith wasn’t far behind. The day was finally over.
The four of us drove into town of Gorham, stopping at the post office (to pick up a package Luna’s mom sent him) before heading to dinner at Mr. Pizza. Once we had full bellies, it was time to drop Luna off at the Rattle River Hostel.
Tomorrow we’d tackle the Wildcats together. But tonight, I was heading across the border to Bethel, Maine, where Keith had the RV parked. There was a hot shower and soft bed calling my name.
Day 107
August 17, 2019
- Route: Pinkham Notch (Mile 1872.6) to US Route 2 (Mile 1893.8)
- Daily Mileage: 21.2 miles
This morning’s plan head back to Pinkham Notch so Luna and I could slackpack the last section of the Whites.
This was an super ambitious day. Not only were were going to try to hike 21 miles. But, we also had to go over the Wildcats, Carter Dome, Mt. Hight, South Carter Mountain, and Middle Carter Mountain – all over which were insanely steep 4,000-footers.
In terms to sheer difficulty, today would rival my Moosilauke/Kinsmans day. And when I woke up, I had nerves in my stomach that reminded me of standing at the start line of a marathon.
WILDCAT DRAMA
I had my butt up early this morning (5:20 am) because it was a long drive back to the Pinkham Notch trailhead, and we’d planned to pick Luna up at the hostel en route.
We got to the hostel nearly 10 minutes later than planned, but even with that delay, Luna still wasn’t ready to go. He wanted a make big breakfast before taking on the Wildcats. Thus, he said he’d catch a ride on the hostel’s 8 am shuttle to Pinkham Notch rather than hold me up any longer.
I was finally back on the trail by 7:45 am, and the first climb up Wildcat D was truly insane. It felt like a vertical rock scramble going up. Plus everything was still soaking wet from the rain last night making it even more difficult to choose where to place my hands and feet on every boulder. The last thing I wanted was to lose my grip and fall down the side of the mountain.
Morning fog and gray clouds obscured any sort of views I might have had. And the wet rock face seemed to go up forever. When I finally got to the top, my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. And I was taken aback to see a ski like at the summit. It looked like an alien space station up here in the mist and fog.
The cable for the gondola was whining and the motor hummed, but it was only bringing empty ski cars up to the summit. No one else was up here to see it. And although I suppose this peak would provide good views on a clear summer day, I’d never know. Not with today’s limited visibility.
SLOW GOING
Those first 3 miles up Wildcat D were behind me, but I didn’t get any sort of reprieve afterward. I could see why so many thru-hikers chose to slackpack this section. Even with negligible weight on my back, I was hiking much slower than normal.
After Wildcat Mountain, the trail took a steep dip down to Carter Notch Hut. It was still completely fogged over in the notch and the best photo I could take was of a lake with lily pads on the far side of the hut. That was simply the extent of the views. If it wasn’t within 50 feet, I couldn’t see it.
Although the hut was a short detour off trail, and I was running insanely behind my intended pace, I decided I needed to stop for a rest. I needed a quick break from the elements to warm myself up. Plus, it was 11 am and all the sugar and caffeine from my Dunkin stop on the way to the trailhead was completely gone.
The tiny AMC hut was completely empty, except for one crew member manning the kitchen. But there were some baked goods available, and I was able to redeem my final baked good item from my thru-hiker card.
As I sat there eating some sort of spice cake that reminded me of banana bread (minus the banana), I started doing some mental math. It took me 3.25 hours to hike the first 6 miles of the day. And I still had 15 more miles to go.
At this pace, I wouldn’t reach my pick-up point near the Rattle River Hostel until sometime after 7 pm tonight. Maybe even later. Dammit! I’d told Keith to meet me at 6pm. I really needed to pick up the pace. But how? This terrain was simply impossible!
After 15 quick minutes of shoving food in my mouth, I packed up my day pack and hit the trail again. I’d have to double down and just push as hard as I could.
INSANITY
The trail continued to humble me all afternoon long. I’d busted a scab on my knee during the climb up the Wildcats, and then knocked the open wound again on several more rock scrambles during the day. It was like I was leaving a blood trail behind for my fellow hikers to follow (instead of breadcrumbs).
I also bruised my shins several more times. They are still a gnarly mess from yesterday’s descent through the rocky backside of Mt. Washington and hurt like the dickens.
The trail seemed to level out a bit after one of the peaks, and I thought, “this is my chance.” I could pick up the pace and make up some time. But then I hit some slippery rocks and fell onto my right hip. I landed with such violent force that I know there’s going to be giant bruise on my hip for days (or weeks) to come. The Whites are really kicking my butt!
Somewhere between Middle Carter and North Carter, the sun briefly appeared, but I still didn’t have any views. It was just some fleeting warmth to give me hope.
The fact that I was feverishly trying to race the clock all afternoon meant I didn’t really pull out my camera. The only photo I took between the Carter Notch Hut and Mt. Moriah was a blurry one of some sort of bird (a grouse?) who noisily flapped across the trail and nearly scared the crap out of me.
REDEMPTION
After Mt. Moriah, the madness ended. It took me forever to hike those first 15 miles today. And I didn’t make it to Moriah’s summit until 4:30 pm. I was going so slow the entire way, that I was seriously getting worried that I’d be hiking to my evening pick-up point in the dark.
But then the trail gods smiled upon me. Mt. Moriah was the end of the Whites, at least as far as the AT was concerned. The final 5 miles of the day would be much, much better trail and almost pleasant. I even jogged the last two miles – though my bruised hip made it some of least graceful jogging of my life.
Just beyond the junction for the Rattle River Shelter, I passed something on the trail that caught my attention. It was the number 300 made out of sticks. One of the SOBOs must have made this marker to signify they were passing 300 miles.
That meant I only had 300 miles left until Katahdin!!!
That marker flooded me with emotion and motivation. I jogged even faster toward US Route 2.
I didn’t get to the Rattle River Hostel until about a quarter after 6pm. I was late. But honestly, I’m surprised I was even that close to my intended time. All day I’d been fretting that I would be getting there at 7 or 8 pm (or even later). Showing up 15 minutes tardy wasn’t that bad, all things considered. And Keith was patiently waiting for me in the car and reading a magazine.
Looking back, today was tough! I didn’t take a single break after the 15-minute stop at Carter Notch this morning. I’d just hiked the last 7+ hours without any relief, and I was spent!
I needed another zero day to recover. The Whites took every last ounce of energy I had. My knees hurt. My shins are pitted with bruises. My hip feels like it was hammered with a meat tenderizer today. And my plantar fasciitis is acting up.
I might have slackpacked today, but it wasn’t anywhere close to any easy day. But, I made it!! I completed the infamous Whites! And I only have 300 miles left to Katahdin. So, tomorrow I’m taking a day off to recuperate and reset.
Day 108
August 18, 2019
- Route: Zero day in Bethel, Maine
- Daily Mileage: 0 miles
I don’t have much to share from today’s zero. My body still aches all over. But rather than focus on that misery, we went down to North Conway for the day to have lunch like a normal people. Then it was town chores (resupply, laundry, etc) and hanging out at the lake where Keith had the RV parked in Maine.
Today is officially my 9th zero of the trail, and I expect it will probably be my last one. I didn’t take a single zero the first 500 miles on trail. So it seems reasonable that I can make it through the next 300 miles without any more days off.
Plus, tomorrow I’ll finally get to Maine. The Whites are behind me. I just need to put one foot in front of the other and keep focused on how awesome it’s going to feel to feel to say I walked fro Georgia to Maine!
Day 109
August 19, 2019
- Route: US Route 2 (Mile 1893.8) to Carlo Col Shelter (Mile 1910.7)
- Daily Mileage: 16.9 miles
It took me a minute to get myself going this morning. Keith drove me back over the border into New Hampshire one final time, and we said our goodbyes in the parking lot of the Rattle River Hostel near the trailhead.
Luna was still inside when I arrived at 8:15 am, and he was nowhere close to being ready to go (again!). So I sat down for a bit to chat about how he was doing.
His slackpack over the Wildcat’s beat him up just as badly as it had pounded me. He left Pinkham Notch only about a half hour behind me, but his pace was even slower than mine, thanks to the ankle that was still bothering him from Mt. Washington.
In fact, he didn’t get back to the hostel until after 9:30 pm that night – more than 3 hours after I arrived! And so when I’d texted him to tell him I was taking a zero at the RV to regroup yesterday, he’d done the same exact thing at the hostel.
THE END OF NEW HAMPSHIRE
Despite feeling beat down, Luna seemed surprisingly refreshed from his zero. His ankle hadn’t miraculously healed in such a short time, but he had a fresh new bottle of Motrin. So, at least he could manage the pain.
When we left the hostel, our day began with a short roadwalk until we got to the Androscoggin River and the bridge that crossed Shelburne Dam. A older guy was hiking just ahead of us, but then he stopped at the trailhead to readjust his gear.
When I passed him, he asked me if I’d seen the roadkill back by the bridge. I’d seen a carcass and some brown fur on the opposite side of the road near the grass. But I can honestly say I didn’t pay it much attention. I just assumed it was just a deer that picked the wrong time to cross the road.
He surprised me by telling me that it was a bear cub. Huh?! I didn’t expect that. I guess I’m going to need to take some precautions regarding my food storage around here. We haven’t really had to worry about bears since Vermont. But I probably shouldn’t get too complacent if there are bear cubs wandering out into well-traveled roads.
HELLO MAINE
The AT doubles as the Centennial Trail for the next 3 miles and had some awesome tread. I don’t know if this was because this Centennial Trail is more of a day hiking adventure, but it was some terrific hiking up to the junction of the Mahoosuc Trail.
The sun was out and the views of the Whites behind us were pretty awesome. I didn’t have any of this scenery when I went through the Wildcats. But today was so clear, you could see Mt. Moriah from one of the scenic overlooks.
After the scenic overlook, Luna and I decided to hike separately. He wanted to take it easy on his ankle, and I needed to stretch my legs a bit.
I passed mile 1900 mid-morning, then stopped for a solo lunch on a nice bald to enjoy the final bit of New Hampshire.
After lunch, I passed a series of ponds and lakes covered in lily pads that were simply charming.
And then I hit the jackpot. There were bushes filled with blueberries along the trail! What a way to celebrate 1,900 miles of walking. In just a few miles I’d be crossing into Maine, and I already had blueberries welcoming me to the state!
I kept thinking Luna would catch up to me, given my leisurely pace, but the terrain this afternoon wasn’t nearly as easy as the Centennial Trail. It was filled with some slick spots and a few wicked rock scrambles.
After the Genian Pond Shelter, I had one final climb in New Hampshire up to the summit of Mt. Success (oh, how aptly named it was).
And just 2 miles beyond that – around 5:45 pm – I made it to my goal for the day. That beautiful white sign marking my entry into my 14th state on the AT. I finally made it to the Maine border!
MAINE IS ROUGH
I was over the moon at the sign. It was surreal to realize I was actually in Maine. Sure, I still had 280+ miles to hike before the end. But, I was in Maine!!! I made it!
All my sweat, blood, and tears – and here I was. MAINE!!!
It was only another half mile from the border to the Carlo Col Shelter, where I planned to spend the night. But, that final stretch took me nearly a half hour to cross.
In fact, the final rock scramble reminded me of the Lemon Squeezer and I had to drop down 6+ feet without any assistance from rungs, or a rope, or even a ladder. I guess it’s just foreshadowing for tomorrow when I hit the Mahoosic Notch – the slowest mile on the entire AT.
When I got to the shelter, there was only one hiker there – a guy doing a flip-flop. He’d started NOBO back in February, but then when he got to New Jersey he realized he was running short on time. He wasn’t going to make it the entire way before risking snow or bad weather in Maine. So, he flipped to Katahdin and was now headed SOBO.
I asked him for the shelter log and was surprised to see Trail Magic, Gear Boy, and Moss had been here today. Luna and I were a day ahead of them all through the Whites, but they must have jumped ahead of us yesterday while we were both taking our zero day.
The flip-flopper even said he’d seen them when they came through earlier in the afternoon. So hopefully, I’ll catch up in the next day or two. I miss talking to Trail Magic and Moss.
Day 110
August 20, 2019
- Route: Carlo Col Shelter (Mile 1910.7) to Bald Pate Shelter (Mile 1927.1)
- Daily Mileage: 16.4 miles
When I woke up this morning, I knew I was in for an unusual day. Today was the day I’d get to the Mahoosuc Notch.
There are a handful of infamous things that most AT thru-hikers hear about over and over on their journey. The wild ponies near Grayson Highlands. The rocks of Pennysylvania (aka Rocksylvania). The White Mountains in New Hampshire. And the Mahoosuc Notch in southern Maine.
The Mahoosuc Notch is essentially 1-mile rock obstacle course, where you are expected to climb over giant boulders, through narrow crevasses, and otherwise pick your way through a crazy topographic nightmare.
Most hikers claim that they are lucky to get through the Mahoosuc Notch at 1 mph, with some hikers alleging it took them multiple hours because they had to take their pack on and off so many times. And now it was my turn!
MAINE IS HARD!
I’d hung my shirt to dry on clothesline inside the shelter overnight, but it was still damp when I got up. Ugh. I hate putting on a clammy, cold shirt. But maybe my body heat would dry it out quickly.
The morning was filled with lots of climbing on ladders and rungs that were set in rocks. I’ve only been in Maine a handful of miles, but I have to admit this state was shaping up to be much more difficult than I expected.
Now that I was past the infamous Whites, I was envisioning myself cruising toward Katahdin on beautifully-groomed, flat dirt trails. I don’t know where I got that misconception from. That certainly hasn’t been my experience on the AT thus far. Why would it happen now?
When I got to the high ridge near Goose Eye North Peak, I turned on my cell phone and discovered a message waiting from Trail Magic. She, Moss, and Gear Boy quickly pushed through the Mahoosuc Notch yesterday afternoon and made it all the way to Grafton Notch last night!!
Wow! Based on my discussion with the flip-flop hiker in the Carlo Col shelter last night, I’d assumed they were only an hour or two ahead of me. In reality, they are closer to 14 miles down the trail! I definitely won’t be catching them today!
When, I got to the Full Goose Shelter, there was a hiker already sitting on the edge of the shelter’s platform. I didn’t recognize him, but he instantly recognized me. It was Flatlander, a hiker from Kansas (hence his trail name) who I’d met back at Uncle Johnny’s hostel back in Erwin, TN! We had a long conversation back then, and bonded when he’d shared that he was a retired Army aviatior.
Flatlander had been going NOBO back then, but had gotten injured and had to take a bunch of zeros and slow his pace. So, like the hiker I’d met last night at the Carlo Col shelter, Flatlander flip-flopped and was now heading SOBO.
He’d just finished the Mahoosuc Notch before we’d crossed paths, so I asked him for his thoughts on it. His biggest piece of advice was: (1) go slow, and (2) store my poles.
Flatlander watched another hiker ahead of him lose one of his poles down a narrow gap between some rocks. It skidded down to the bottom of a crevasse where it couldn’t be recovered. So now the guy had to hike without it his poles until he got to Gorham, NH where could replace them.
That was good advice, and I stored my poles in one of my pack’s pouches before I even departed the shelter.
MAHOOSUC
After the shelter, the AT had one more short peak to go over before descending toward Mahoosuc Notch. When I arrived at the west end of the notch, it just appeared to be some boulders at the bottom of a ravine. It didn’t seem too hard.
However, the further I went into the ravine, the more challenging the route became. In some areas, you have to go over the rocks. Other areas required you to go under the rocks. There were even some narrow passages that were so small, you needed to take your pack off and then pull your pack through behind you.
At one point, I nearly lost my balance when I leapt over a gap between two large boulders. My foot caught the ledge on the side to the rock, but the momentum of my pack pushed my body forward and threatened to push me off the narrow ledge entirely. Luckily, my fingertips found a crack to grab onto. Otherwise I could had easily fallen several feet and injured myself.
That near miss on the rock forced me to take the upcoming route much more seriously, and I slow down significantly. All told, it probably took me 90 minutes to get though that one mile of the Mahoosuc Notch. It wasn’t terrible, and was actually kind of fun if you ignored the 30 or so times I banged up my shins on the rocks.
Unfortunately, I got very few photos of the actual route. Flatlander’s warning about the guy who lost his poles had me worried about taking my phone out, for fear that I might accidentally drop it and be unable to recover it. So here’s sole photo I took while waiting my turn for one of the narrow tunnels through some of the rocks.
MAHOOSUC – PART II
When I successfully finished the Mahoosuc Notch, I stopped for a leisurely lunch at a campsite on its east end. There was space for about 5 tents there, and it seemed to be a good spot to regroup and prepare for what was ahead – the Mahoosuc Arm.
The Mahoosuc Arm was the steepest climb I’ve encountered on the entire AT. It was ten times as difficult as the Notch, in my opinion. And it just went straight up a seemingly vertical rock face for nearly two miles.
My calves burned during the ascent and I couldn’t walk very far without needing to stop to catch my breath. In short, it really was ridiculously hard! And it just went on… and on… and ON.
Everyone on the trail yammered on and on about how demanding the Mahoosuc Notch was. Why hadn’t they mentioned this beast? Mahoosuc Arm was far slower and ten times more strenuous, in my opinion.
But once again, I was grateful that I wasn’t heading SOBO. How in the world did hikers like Flatlander come down this rocky slope without losing their footing and sliding to the bottom of the ravine?
When I finally got over the top around 2:30 pm, I was rewarded with a good stopping point at Speck Pond. The alpine pond was nestled between two peaks (Mahoosuc Arm and Old Speck) and it had the most tranquil feeling. It was the perfect reward for my challenging day.
Afterward it was down, down, down toward Grafton Notch as it dropped from 4,200′ all the way down to 1,500′. And when I got the Grafton Notch highway crossing, I got celebrate another milestone.
That’s where I officially opened the 9th and FINAL segment of my Guthook App. I was now in the Grafton Notch to Katahdin stretch of the AT Guide. That’s how close I was to the end!!!
But my mental celebration didn’t last long. The elevation profile showed I was going to have to climb right back up to 4,000’ again in the next 4 miles. Ugh.
Luckily, I was planning to stop at the Baldpate Lean-To, which was only 2.3 miles ahead and halfway up the mountain. The rest of the climb would wait until tomorrow.
When I arrived there just before 7 pm, I wasn’t sure why the shelter was called a lean-to. With a name like that, I was imagining a wobbly, decrepit shed built out of discarded wood scraps. But it looked just like all the other sturdy 3-sided AT shelters I’ve passed over the last 1900 miles. So maybe referring to it as a lean-to was a Mainer thing.
As I set up my tent near the lean-to, I reflected back on the day. Today was a hard one. It took me almost 12 hours to hike 16.4 miles! But, I don’t really know how I could have finished that stretch any faster.
It’s probably a good thing I didn’t attempt Mahoosuc Notch/Arm with Trail Magic or Moss. I would have just been holding them back.
As I checked my phone, I saw a message from Luna waiting to be read. He’d hurt twisted his ankle really bad just before he got down to the Mahoosuc Notch. It was the same ankle that’s been bothering him these past few days.
He’d stopped for a bit and wrapped it as tight as he possibly could, then swallowed a handful of Motrin before suffering though Mahoosuc. He finished that obstacle course in one piece, but this new injury was making it unbearable to put much weight on that side.
There was no way he was going to catch up to me tonight. He was going to limp down to stealth camping site somewhere near Grafton Notch tonight and then re-assess his ankle in the morning. Ah man. That sucks!!
Day 111
August 21, 2019
- Route: Bald Pate Shelter (Mile 1927.1) to South Arm Road (Mile 1945.2)
- Daily Mileage: 18.1 miles
Although yesterday was a challenging workout, I woke up feeling pretty good this morning. So I was up early and back on the trail by 6:45 am.
The lean-to had been halfway up the climb from Grafton Notch to Baldpate West, so I still had that remaining ascent to finish. The summit was pretty spectacular in the early morning, and I could see clouds and mist resting in the low laying areas between the tall peaks.
After that, it was an enjoyable hike along open rocks toward the east peak. I could see why it was named Baldpate Mountain. The summit was covered in rock slabs with cairns marking the route, and the only vegetation up there was these small alpine shrubs. It was as close to a bare head as you might see in the outdoors.
CHALLENGES
On the backside of Baldpate, I had another series of crazy rock descents to navigate with the assistance of some strategically placed ropes and ladders. That’s when my right knee started acting up, and I had to be more careful about my pace.
I’ve been lucky with knee pain this far on the AT. But last night, I’d woken up around 11:30 pm and tried to roll over and I couldn’t because my knee had completely locked up. It took several minutes to try to straighten it out; it seemed totally stuck in place. I finally succeeded in straightening my leg, and fell back to sleep. So, I hadn’t given it a second thought this morning.
But the terrain today isn’t being as gentle and kind as I’d like, and the knee stiffness seems to be returning on and off. Perhaps it was just the lingering effect of the Mahoosuc Notch/Arm. But, I’ll have to keep an eye on it, for sure.
The other thing bothering me this morning is some sort of rash on my left side that keeps itching. I don’t have any Benadryl or hydrocortisone to get the itching to the stop, so I had to put my earbuds in to try to distract myself and keep myself from scratching it.
After second breakfast at another lean-to, it was time for more steep terrain where I was literally having to scramble up the vertical dirt slopes using tree roots to hoist myself upward.
For all the fear mongering people do about the Whites, I’m starting to think Southern Maine is what I really should have been worrying about! This is way harder than New Hampshire.
ANDOVER
I decided to check in with Keith when I got to the top of Wyman Mountain, and he was having a do-nothing kind of day down in Bethel, Maine. The fish weren’t biting and there was a storm headed this way, so he was just hanging out in the RV all afternoon.
I told him I was hoping to get to a road crossing this evening where I could head into Andover for resupply. But since he was just 30 miles south of Andover and wasn’t doing anything big, he offered to come out to the trailhead and get me if I wanted. That was an unexpected surprise and I jumped on the suggestion!
On the backside of Wyman Mountain, I hit the Hall Mountain Lean-to where two NOBO hikers were setting up camp early. They’d heard about the big storm was heading our way, so they decided to stop hiking early. They wanted the safety of the shelter to shield them from the storm since the next shelter wasn’t for another 13 miles up the trail.
I wished them good luck and quickly pressed on in my effort to try to beat the weather. Moody Mountain still stood between me and my pick-up point. And although it was steep, at least the trail was better than this morning. I was even able to hike at a respectable pace when my knee allowed it.
I arrived at the road crossing just as the rain was beginning to come down in earnest. I still have 15 minutes to wait before Keith was supposed to meet me there, so I found a log to sit on and pulled out my umbrella to shield me from the bulk the wet.
Then once Keith arrived, I persuaded him into stopping at the the Little Red Hen Diner & Bakery in Andover. I didn’t want to eat dinner there. But I wanted to stop to see if there were any hikers I knew. The bakery lets hikers set up their tents behind the shop and out on their covered porch after they close.
Sunshine and Rev were sitting out on the bakery’s wrap-around porch. Boy, I haven’t seen them since Hanover (when we spend the night in Betsy and Bill’s basement). And then they told me the best news ever. Trail Magic, Moss, and Gear Boy were out back relaxing for the evening. Yessssss! My trail family was here.
I quickly strode around back for a surprise reunion, and found the three of them hanging out and drinking beers. Plus, Luna was in a chair with ice on his ankle nearby too. He’d caught a ride here this morning from Grafton Notch and had taken a zero to give his swollen ankle some much-needed rest.
After 30 minutes of catching up, I had a hard decision to make. Should I stay there with them for the night and hang out? Or should I go back to the RV with Keith and Finn tonight and dry out a bit?
In the end, the rash on my ribcage made the decision for me. It had gotten much worse over the day while I was hiking, and I needed to find a pharmacy that sold some hydrocortisone ASAP.
So it was off to Bethel for me, followed by a relaxing dinner at Sunday River Brewing. As I shoved delicious warm, salty food in my mouth and drank a pint of IPA, I told Keith and Finn all about the adventures of Mahoosuc Notch/Arm. What an adventure it had been!
Day 112
August 22, 2019
- Route: South Arm Road (Mile 1945.2) to Sabbath Day Pond Shelter (Mile 1962.2)
- Daily Mileage: 17.0 miles
I’m soooo glad I got the chance to sleep in my warm bed last night. The storm those hikers at the lean-to were worried about was a doozy. I can’t remember the last time I saw it pour that hard! Plus, I had a few additional perks.
First off, I got to take care of that rash on my side. I think it must be poison oak. It’s on my side, on the front of my abdomen (where my pack’s hip belt rests), and on the back of my shoulder.
I wonder if that clothesline inside the Carlo Col shelter (where I hung my shirt to dry out that one night) had some poison oak oils on it. Perhaps someone else hung their socks to dry on the line before I’d used it.
Whatever the source, I was glad I came back to the RV to restock my first aid kit. I now have Benadryl pills, hydrocortisone cream to apply to my skin, and I replenished my bandaids and added an ace bandage too – just in case I twist my ankle like Luna on this insane terrain.
The second reason I was happy to return to the RV last night has to do with our dinner stop at Sunday River Brewing Co. last night. My dinner and beer was supper tasty, but the real treat was the donuts.
I’ve never been to a brewery that also had a bakery that makes donuts. But this is Maine! And there was a giant display case up front that had giant donuts that were easily 2-3 times the size of normal one. It completely overrode my impulse control and I bought two of these monster donuts for breakfast this morning! Best decision ever!!
MISSING: ONE SIT PAD
I slept in until 7:30 this morning, and didn’t want to race back out the trail until I was sure the storm had passed. Plus, this was surely the last time I was going to see my family before the end of the trail, so I wanted to savor it for a bit.
Our ride back out to South Arm Road was somber one. It was so misty out from the morning rain that you couldn’t see much of our surroundings, and none of us seemed in a chipper mood. We all seemed to be in our own heads.
I spent the bulk of the ride back to South Arm Road thinking about my sit pad. I’d put it on a wet log by the road crossing yesterday while I waited for Keith to pick me up. I’d initially chosen that log because it had some protection from the rain.
On the downside though, the log rested about 20 yards off the road at the edge of the woods. So, I’d jumped up as soon as I saw our car in an effort to wave Keith down and let him know I was there. Then, in all the excitement of grabbing my stuff (while trying to stay semi-dry under my umbrella), I’d failed to grab my sit pad off the log. Doh!
The big storm that rolled though last night meant the chance of me finding my sit pad still resting where I left it was pretty low. But I had to look. Maybe it got stuck under or against something and I’d be in luck.
I spent 10 minutes looking around the area when we arrive, but then I had to give up. I guess I’d just have to spend the final 250 miles of the AT without it. And, between my lazy morning sleeping in, the slow drive back out to the trail, and my thorough search for my missing sit pad, it was 9:15 am before I actually started hiking. Sigh.
MAINE = PAIN
I was hoping I’d run into my trail family all morning long. I had no clue what time any of them got back out to the trail and I didn’t have cell service so we could text our locations. I’d just have to hike and hope we crossed paths somewhere.
The day began with an immediate 3-mile climb up Old Blue Mountain. The entire way up, I was sure it was mentally trying to crush me. After a half hour of climbing though, the clouds started to clear and I could see a few views of the area far below.
Thanks to the storm, there were lots of wet rocks, wet bog boards crossing the mud, and wet roots everywhere. As a result, I kept slipping and falling throughout the morning. I fell and hurt my right butt check (yet another injury) and wondered why the state of Maine was trying so hard to break me.
I decided to take early lunch at a view point with wooden bench and regroup. I needed to stop fighting the trail. I wasn’t going to win. I knew this. So why was I getting so frustrated?
The terrain here was just slow going. And yes, it was super frustrating that I was only hiking at half my average pace. But I had to remind myself, not all miles are created the same. A completely flat mile is not the same as a mile with 1,500 feet of vertical gain. Why did I expect to hike the same pace on both?
I tried to remember to be calm as I climbed upward, but when I finally crested Mt. Beamis, I was still on edge. The trail was finally flat, but now it was slick rock that reminded me of my days back in New York.
As I moved from rock cairn to rock cairn, I had to be careful with every step. One wrong step would send me flying (again) like I was trying to walk across ice.
IS MY THRU-HIKE OVER??
On the way down Mt. Beamis, I was able to finally pick up the pace as the trail transitioned from rock slabs back to dirt trail. I was cruising along and feeling pretty good when the unthinkable happened.
I was going downhill at a good pace when my foot his a rock and my ankle twisted. My ankle immediately gave out and I pitch forward toward the ground. I threw my arms out to catch myself or break my fall, but my right knee was the first thing to make contact with the ground.
That fall probably would have hurt under any circumstances. But, I had the unfortunate luck of my right kneecap landing squarely on a baseball-size rock that was half buried in the trail. All the weight and momentum of my body went into my kneecap as it hit that dumb rock.
In that moment, I was 100% sure my thru-hike was over. It felt like I broke my kneecap. There was blood everywhere and I couldn’t stop crying from the pain. It was unreal.
I tried to stand up again, but my knee didn’t want to support my weight. I rinsed off my knee with my water bottle, but fresh blood took its place. I was hurt and I didn’t know what to do.
I knew I couldn’t just sit there in the woods forever. I needed to get down to a road crossing and reassess my options. Beamis Mountain Road was still two miles ahead, but I’d just have to hobble downhill toward it.
The searing pain in my knee kept me I crying for the next 20 minutes straight, yet I kept moving. If something was broken, I’d need to rescue myself. I hadn’t seen a single person out here the past three hours. And once I sat down, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get up again.
Was this injury going to be how my thru-hike ended?
TRAIL MAGIC
As I limped toward Bemis Mountain Road, I could hear voices nearby. Someone was doing trail magic way out here!
I’m sure I looked like a hot mess when I rolled up to the small pickup truck where an older couple was sitting with a handful of thru-hikers. My tear-stained cheeks were undoubtedly the first clue something was wrong. One of the two trail angels saw me, and she immediately raced over asking, “Are you ok?”
I showed her my knee and she went into the truck to get some foaming soap and paper towels. After cleaning up my knee with soap and water, we could see it was cut up pretty bad.
I bandaged it with the biggest oversized bandaid I had. Then I used the ace bandage in my pack to wrap my knee and hold the bandage firmly in place. Thank goodness I’d had the foresight to add more stuff to my first kit last night when I was back at the RV!
I sat in a camp chair at the trail magic station for the next half hour debating whether I could go on. Did I need to head to the hospital to get it looked at? What if began hiking again and my knee swelled up like a balloon in the woods? And how was I ever going to do make up and down this crazy Southern Maine terrain with an injured knee??
The snack and cold soda the trail angels provided helped me sort myself out and come up with a plan. It was only one more mile to ME-17. The trail would cross a paved highway there, and it had was a good-sized parking area too.
If this injury to my kneecap was serious enough to keep me from hiking any further, I could catch a ride to town from there. But, if I felt strong enough to continue on, I’d hike the four additional miles from there to the Sabbath Day Lean-To and stop there for the night.
Those final 5 miles of the day from the trail magic spot to the shelter were super slow. But, I was grateful that it was also the flattest area I’ve seen since crossing the Maine border. Much of the last two miles was just spent hiking around Long Pond and Sabbath Day Pond.
I tried to distract myself from the throbbing in my knee by keeping my eyes peeled for moose. I knew they liked to wade into these types of ponds and graze on the grasses underwater. One of my goals out here was to spot a moose in the wild.
Unfortunately, I didn’t see any moose. I made it to the shelter around dusk and set my tent up away from the other hikers. I didn’t want to be around anyone else as I wrestled with the uncertainty of my injury and what it might mean for the rest of my hike.
I wanted to merely wallow a bit and catastrophize about whether my thru-hike was going to get cut short so close to the end.
If my trail family had been there, I’m sure they would have comforted me. But everyone here tonight was a stranger. And those other hikers didn’t need me bringing down their mood with my personal worries or fears.
WEEK 16 SUMMARY
- Lowest mileage day: 0 miles
- Highest mileage day: 21.2
- Days with rain: 6
- Number of zero days: 1
- Number days slackpacking: 1
- Number of nights I slept my own bed in the RV: 4
- Nights spent in my tent or an AT shelter: 3
- Minutes it took me to cross the 1-mile through Mahoosuc Notch: 90
- Number of times I slipped and fell in southern Maine: way too many to count
- Members of my trail family I was reunited with in Andover: 4
- Numbers of awesome breweries (with donuts) in Maine: 1
- Significant first aid events this week: 2 (poison oak rash & badly injured knee)
- Number of moose spotted so far: 0
- Total miles hiked this week: 104.5