Sept 12

The MATC

The climb up Mahoosuc Arm this morning was easier than I expected.  That's not to say it was easy.  It was still really steep and challenging, but that's just becoming the norm now.  I've found it's always better to tell yourself that something is going to be really hard.  Get amped up for the challenge.  I know it's cliche, but 'plan for the worst, and hope for the best', works.  After a 1600 foot climb, I came down off the arm, descending to the shelter area at Speck Pond, where I had mid-morning snack.  I hiked on for just over a mile, toward the summit of Old Speck Mountain.  The last bit near the top was particularly steep.  A side trail continued all the way up to the summit, where a fire tower was located.  I stopped at this junction and sat down for lunch.  Slims was who knows where, half a day or more, ahead.  Apache had made it past me early on this morning.  He was planning on going into a small town to resupply when he reached the next road crossing.  Rainbow pulled up behind me to take a lunch break just as I was finishing up mine.  I enjoyed the nice views I had from my lunch spot, but I had to keep moving.  Today, I'm still hiking at a one mile per hour pace.  At least the temperature has been warmer today.  The skies have been clear all day too.  So despite the slow pace, the hiking has been enjoyable.  From my lunch spot, it was 3 miles, downhill, to the road at Grafton Notch.  Somewhere about halfway down, I took a good spill.  There was nothing notably difficult about this section.  Just a scary reminder of how quickly a good day can turn on you out here.  I brushed myself off and kept walking.  No harm done.  I came to a stream that had beautiful cascades.  I stopped for a minute to rest.  The trail has been taking a toll on me lately.  The ruggedness of the terrain is physically demanding.  The slowness of my pace is starting to wear on me mentally.  The fall I took, had my heart racing, and my mind filled with nervous thoughts.  I looked at that waterfall and stream running down the mountain, leaves starting to change all around, and in that moment, it was all worth it.  The trail itself can provide you with its own kind of 'magic' if you open yourself up to it.  With lifted spirits, I walked along the stream, following it all the way to the road.  No sign of any of my friends.  Hmmm.  A box at the trail head had a register in it.  Slims had been here at 10am.  I was six miles back at the same time this morning.  At this pace, that means he's more than half a day ahead now.  After crossing the road, the trail was nice and flat, following a stream.  I was now in the Maine Appalachian Trail Club's jurisdiction.  These remaining northernmost 267 miles of the AT are maintained by this final club.  As the trail continued into the Baldplate region, it began to pitch upward.  I felt miserable.  I had no energy.  The happiness that I felt moments ago, was replaced with frustration.  I'm getting sick.  It was a struggle to make it the next two miles to the Baldplate Lean-to.  There was still hours of daylight left, but I was done.  Another hiker, named Tripping Yeti, was at the shelter when I arrived.  I'd met him in passing a few times before, many, many states ago.  It's funny to measure the passage of time, not in days, weeks or months, but in states.  The shelter area was really pretty, with a mix of hardwoods and evergreen trees.  Once I got my tent set up, I went to the spring, gathering about 3 liters of water.  I cooked a hot bowl of ramen soup, then another.  I drank about a liter of water on top of that.  Instantly I noticed an improvement.  I was probably a bit dehydrated earlier.  That, coupled with coming down with some sort of illness, must explain how miserable I felt this afternoon.  Rainbow Eyes pulled into camp.  So did Yogi and BooBoo.  The sun was starting to set.  Feeling a little better now, I headed up to the shelter area to be more social.  Just as I was leaving my tent site, I caught a glimpse of some small animal scurrying about, just behind my tent.  The other hikers were around the campfire, starting to cook their dinners.  Just before dark, Apache rolled into camp.  I was surprised to see him.  I thought he was ahead of me now.  Apparently, he had a pretty interesting time getting in and out of town.  Something like two hitches in, and three hitches back out, basically taking up the entire afternoon to make the trip.  Tripping Yeti had packed out a package of hotdogs, and shared with everyone.  Roasted on the fire, and wrapped in a tortilla shell, it was delicious.  It occurred to me, this was the first time I'd cooked a hotdog on the trail.  Kind of strange, for such a quintessential camp food.

A display at Grafton Notch, showing what lies ahead.