Date: 2018-07-23
From: Mt Katahdin

To: Kennebec River
Miles today: 151.2

Summit Mount Katahdin through the 100 Mile Wilderness to the Kennebec River, Caratunk Maine. July 19th to August 5th. Eighteen days and 151.2 milesChapter One - The SummitArrived at the Bangor Airport and met by a local guide to drive me up to Monson Maine. Uneventful flight from Denver to JFK airport where upon approach I could see the new World Trade Center gleaming in the sunny afternoon New York City skyline. It was a beautiful building and reminder of my military days after 9/11 deploying to combat operations into 22 countries before I would end near continuous operations worldwide until mid summer of 2006. My proudest deployment of my entire career was when then President George Bush ordered federal takeover of all rescue operations under Lt General Honore¢ after the levees of New Orleans began to fail flooding nearly every part of the city in a deep oily murk of water. I got the call around 7am that morning asking if our unit could be available by evening for pick up and transported via a USAF C-130. We landed in the pre dawn early morning hours next day at Belle Chase Naval Air Base that would become the primary rescue operations center and grow to over 80,000 military and civilian personnel supporting Joint Task Force Katrina.As we approached Monson I admired the beauty of the area very similar to my home state¢s Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA) and Voyagers¢ National Park on the Minnesota / Canadian border - minus the huge mountains of course. As I got of the car the first thing I heard was the sound of loons on the numerous lakes bringing a sense of comfort. I knew my journey had now began and the Appalachian Trail would be my home for the next three to four months.I made my flight reservations before my permit reservations to climb Mount Katahdin resulting in my arrival four days early. I would not climb Katahdin until Monday. Not wanting to lose days sitting around I decided I would take advantage of the time and reverse hike part of the trail in front of me from the Kennebec River back to Monson. It was a good warm up, not very difficult and a chance to test out my trail legs. The weather was awesome and I arrived back in Monson on Saturday just in time to be part of the town¢s annual festivities including music and food on the beach of nearby Lake Hebron and fireworks that night. I stayed at a local hiker¢s hostel waking up around 6am to a bright sunny day and more sounds of loons. The forecast for Sunday night and all Monday into Monday night was heavy rains and thunderstorms associated with the remnants of a tropical storm churning up the U.S east coast. This was not the weather I had hoped for but then I am hiking the AT as the Appalachian Trail is referred to by hikers and locals. The weather held to its forecast with overcast arriving around lunch and thickening with light showers by dinner time. I went into town for dinner at a local favorite Lakeshore Restaurant and decided to sit outside next to the lake as the rain stopped and partial clearing let sun in for a while. I got seated at a table with three sisters and one of their children, a teen age daughter. Jerry, who was also hiking the 100 mile Wilderness section of the AT joined me. Jerry was a Maine native and the three sisters were also from Maine with one now living in Connecticut. This is an annual event for the three sisters to get together at a local camping lodge near the lake. We talked for a couple of hours over dinner together laughing as we took shots from politics, to pot to children and everything in between. It was a great end to Monson. I arrived back at the hostel coming across two hikers from Vermont who came to hike the 100 mile wilderness. They would head north out of Monson while I would be driving to the start of the AT in Baxter State Park, home of Mount Katahdin. We talked for a while and promised to say hi to each other as we passed going different directions. The owner of the hostel was back and asked if I could get the Vermont couple¢s car from the AT trailhead parking lot about three miles up the road so off we went. When we arrived the car was a Prius of which neither of us ever operated. For thirty minutes we kept on trying to start the car to only figure out after reading the owners manual that in fact the car was already started and because if ws electric there was no engine noise. By this point we laughed like the idiots we were expecting an engine to start. Back at the hostel the rain began to increase to a steady downpour so I went to my cabin, ensured I was all packed and went to bed. I was to be picked up at 6am for the drive through Millinocket to Baxter State Park.Monday morning arrived and I was up around 5am. A quick breakfast, gear check and out the door I went into the all-night steady downpour. The surrounding ground around the cabin was now small lakes of water. Estimates for rain today was 2 inches. As we left Monson we stopped at a local store / gas station the makes home made breakfast burritos and a cup of coffee. I arrived to Baxter State Park around 7:30 at the Abol Stream Campground Ranger Station. He assigned me to Lean-To #11 and gave me instructions for signing in before climbing. I grabbed the gear I wanted to hike with including a special lunch I prepared including a Lindt¢s 70% pure cocoa chocolate bar to eat when I reached Baxter peak some 5300 feet above me. I put my gear into a small loaner back pack the park offers leaving my full pack in the ranger station. By 8:30 I was ready to go and headed back into the ranger station to sign in and began both the summit and AT hike. Rain was again picking back up from showers to a steady rain. As I entered the ranger station he was helping a young woman and I could hear she was assigned Lean-To 12, next to me for that night after the summit. She looked at me with a smile and said hello as I was wondering about her hair style. When I first entered I could only see the left side of her, with everything I would expect including mid length hair style, but as she turned the entire right side of her head was shaved. Of course all of my old-man, military conservative values kicked in trying to figure her out. We talked for about two minutes as I completed the summit log and wished her well as she did the same.The summit would be a 4.4 mile climb up the Abol Slide route and return 5.2 miles down the Hunt/AT route ending at the Katahdin Stream Campsite with a short hitchhike on the park road back to Abol Stream Campground. I gave myself to around 11 am to reach the top of the Abol Stream trail that ended at Thoreau Springs intersecting the AT around 3.4 miles up. By now the rain was pouring and visibility had dropped to near zero as the clouds now hid the entire upper half of Mount Katahdin. It was a brutal and grinding climb far worse than I imagined. By the time I got to the last quarter mile, the grade increased to the point that hiking was all but impossible and now I was just climbing huge boulders like a latter with my poles stashed. My GPS told me that it took that last quarter mile one hour and twenty minutes to complete and I reached the Spring at 1:00, not the 11am I had hoped for. The smell of pine filled the forest as I climbed but by the time I got near the top I entered the Alpine Zone where fully grown pine trees over a hundred years old were only two feet high. By the time I reached the springs nealy all plant life had disappeared with mainly moss on rocks and tiny plants between them. I began to panic a little as this was really late and I had one more mile to go to reach the summit of Baxter Peak. I turned right and came across a couple with a German accent and asked them if anyone else was on the summit. They indicated they thought there was one more person behind them. Visibility had all but obscured everything and the lack of any reference points just increased my panic. I literally could not comprehend if I was seeing five feet or five hundred feet ahead. Everything was grey as both the cloudy sky and the rocks I was hiking on were nearly identical in color. Panic turned into fear as I stopped looking for the white AT marks on rocks instead following my GPS to the summit. I was near what is called the Knife¢s Edge where literally one foot would be on one side of the mountain and the other foot on the other side of the mountain. Visions of me hiking off the side of the mountain and to my death further ingrained my fears. I never found that other person and it was now almost 2pm. The fear grew as I neared only to turn into what was now debilitating fear when I heard what sounded like a distant rumble of thunder. My GPS said I was there and the only thing I could focus on now was getting off the mountain. I knew I was alone and disoriented by the near zero visibility. The thought of stopping for my congratulatory lunch and the requisite picture of standing at the sign of the peak never even entered my mind. I just simply stopped and began heading back to the spring and intersection of the AT/Hunt trail to get off the mountain. All I could focus on was my GPS now set to 0.1 mile scale to ensure I did not hike myself right over a cliff. I was now out of water as I passed the spring but never stopped. Water was not important anymore, just getting off the mount. After nearly two miles, I saw what was the edge of the Alpine zone with all those small pine trees and plants. Gripping fear relented to just panicky fear as I headed down the mountain, failing to stop for anything other than a pee break, GPS fix and catching my break. By 4pm I was well into the thick forest and pines and half way down the mountain. I looked ahead to see the clouds lifted a little and for the first time I could see down into the mountain valley with trees, and lakes. All fear suddenly left and I realized how exhausted and thirsty I was. I needed to take a break for a few minutes, and as I say down I realized I even forgot to eat my special lunch. I really enjoyed the two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches plus the candy bar I brought. I gulped down the remaining water I had, filled up by two water bottles and refilled them and downed them both as well from a small stream. I used my Steri-Pen to filter the water. I again filled the two bottles but never used them as I reached Katahdin Stream Campground and the end of my summit around 4:45, and by 5:15 back at Abol Stream Campground, signing in at the Ranger station and headed for my lean-to where I simply laid down on the wooden floor and stared at the ceiling. I had done it, no fanfare, no celebration, just shear exhaustion and relief it was finally over.By 7pm it was time to start rehydrating and prepare dinner, a freeze dried beef stew and vegetables. As I moved around the young woman I met in the ranger station that morning waived and asked me how it was. I told her my story. I told her that I felt like such a big baby for my panic attack and she laughed. After I ate she came over holding a water filter asking instructions how to use it. As I showed her we began a conversation that would last about two hours.Her name was Jessica and she was 28 years old. She lived there in Maine and came to the State Park to get some quiet time away from everyone. She was not there to hike the AT but there to reflect. Our conversation began to transform my hike from a day of terror and exhaustion into what would become one of the most amazing ten days of my life as I would begin the hike the 100 mile Wilderness starting the next morning.Jessica hinted that a relationship break-up was at the heart of her reflections. Somehow our conversation turned very spiritual. She described her beliefs in life, death and our spiritual presences. She and I had very similar views, both very much believing in God but not many of the religious views preached by most religions. She indicated she was struggling what to do with her life and was torn between entering the nunhood or becoming a mother. As we talked she asked my opinion which I would choose and without hesitation I said motherhood. I told her that many of my beliefs are based on my science approach to life and that science both proves there is a God and that we were meant to raise life as parents for the next generation of our species. She seemed content on my response. Then for some reason I still cannot understand why I did, I told her things about my life I never once have told to anyone else, not even my sister or my wife. This woman that just 12 hours earlier I had prejudged by her hair cut brought such a calm over me to share information that I have judging myself for six decades came out with out hesitation. She listened quietly as I talked. When I was done, she indicated it was time to go to bed, and as she raised she told me she believes god talks to her when she ask and that she somehow knew that I would get the answers I came for on this trip. I was a little caught off guard so I asked her just how does she ask and how does God answer. Do you actually talk to god? Do you actually hear God? Etc. Etc. She said non of the above that whe just knows she needs help and guidance and somehow that answer is right in front of her emotionally. So I asked if I needed god to help me and asked would God respond. Her answer was as long as it was genuine and belief in a higher power. We left the night with that that would scramble through my mind over the next few days.Chapter Two - The Hundred Mile Wilderness.I was already awake around 4:30 as every muscle in my body was screaming ¢Oh No Mr. Bill, no more pain¢. Sun was not up yet but the eastern sky was already lightening up. I sat on the picnic table making breakfast and being entertained by two chipmunks chasing each other. It was apparent they were playing as when one caught the other they would sit by each other to only a moment later one jumping up and running away with the other in hot pursuit. By six I was packed and ready to hike, Jessica has risen from her lean-to and wished me well. I thanked her for the conversation the prior night and again she told me to believe that God will answer you if you ask and really mean it. We shook hands and I left.The park road was only about a hundred yards from the camp ground and I got a ride back to Katahdin Stream Campsite almost immediately. Apparently many vehicles are there transporting hikes and would stop for hikers. By 6:45 I was on the AT again and headed down the mountain to the Abol Stream Store and Campground just outside the park where the actual 100 mile wilderness begins. I reached the store where many hikers and cars were there. Some fore resupply and many who were hikers who were just hiking the 100 mile wilderness. As I entered the wilderness I stopped to take a selfy with the sign that informed me that I understand I am entering a wilderness area and that for all practical purposes I am on my own and if needed rescue it could be a really long time before they arrived - if they arrived!By 4:30 I reached the first AT shelter, Hurd Shelter. No one else was there but by five it began to fill up, several that would become friends over the next twelve days. Wolf, a retiring 48 year old Army member was completing his fifth AT hike in is life. He was the true minimalist. His pack with food only came in around 10 pounds. No tent, just a ground cloth he would put over him as a tent. No sleeping pad or anything else of comfort. Just food, water, filter and one change of clothes. As we talked we saw an elderly man coming northbound into the shelter area. We could see he was in serious trouble crossing a stream. He was disoriented and immediately laid down on the shelter floor exhausted, pack still on. Wolf thought he needed salt and started looking for saltine crackers he had. His water bottles were empty and I asked him when was the last time he peed and what color it was. His adult daughter came in right behind me and heard hs answer to which she both chastised him for and began to help him. He stated that the last time he remembered taking water was around 10 am and did not know when was the last time he peed. He ended up eating in the shelter after getting water and never left the shelter floor until the next morning.The next two to come in were two brothers from Georgia, Sam and Jake. They were hiking the AT for the first time and had just started two days before. Jake was a rabid fly fishing enthusiast. He carried a fly rod an no poles yet he would simply float over rocks as he hiked. Sam was the older brother who came along to keep Jake company. As it turned out neither had ever hiked overnight or backpacked in their lives. Apparently when Jake announced he was hiking the AT, dad informed Sam that he was going along and would pay the bill to ensure Jake stayed safe. Jake already had a trail name¢¦ Fish Fry¢¦ because he carried the fly pole and fished every stream and pond we passed over the next two weeks, and the fry portion because he was trying to put out a camp fire that got out of control so he stomped it out with sandals on that resulted in burns to the tops of his foot that required surgery just a few months prior. Sam still needed a trail name that would come just a few days later. Sam was a strapping guy around 240 pounds with a great beard, like the lumberjacks of ago. Both were seeking advice on gear indicating their packs weighed around 40 pounds each. I picked one up and state no way and guessed well into the 50s range. So they dumped their bags for us to check we several of us began to laugh. Sam was carried a round barreled boom box that had to come in around 8 pounds alone. He also had a huge double roll of duct tape, a Costco-sized large bottle of foot powder and Vaseline, toothpaste, etc. I joked that apparently he does not know that stores sell travel size products. They took the ribbing well and heeded our advise to rethink at the first chance what they are carrying. I quickly connected with these two all the way back to Monson.As I headed out the next day, I came across Eddie at the top of Rainbow Ridge. Rainbow Ridge was a large rock outcropping covered in blueberries with a great view at the top. We sat there to admire the view and rest. Eddie was 28 and from Pennsylvania and hiking the 100 mile wilderness alone. Between Fish Fry, Eddie, Sam an myself we headed to Rainbow Stream for the night passing each other all day long. Usually Fish Fry would jump ahead and start fishing until we caught up. We reached Rainbow Lake where the brothers and I stopped and sat on the shores of this huge wilderness lake in awe of the views. Rainbow Stream shelter was just off the lake on the outflow side of the lake where the stream flowed through a beautiful gorge. I took off my pack, grabbed my soap and promptly sat in the river to clean off the hot humid day of hiking of sweat, bug repellant and dirt. After getting into my P.J.s¢¦.yes I carry P.J¢¦. all clean, we all went to sleep as heavy rains again moved in. Around 11:30 we all heard a loud thud. The younger brother was calling out to his brother in the rain and we realized that the 16 inch diameter tree Jake had used to connect his hammock to at literally, roots and all came out of the ground with him in it. It missed his body by six inches, a story we all promised would not get back to his mother. The next morning Jake was now known as Treefall¢.For the next two days it poured cats and dogs. I had to stop multiple times to empty my shoes filled to the top with water and ring the sock out. The days were as brutal as they were wet with steep rocky and tree rooted trails washed out by years of erosion. By the third day we reached yet another huge wilderness lake where the rain stopped and the sun started to shine through. Over the last few days we kept hearing about this hostel called the White House where the owner picks you up by boat to take you to his location. Rumors were the food was beyond awesome and by the time we got to the dock just off the AT, I and Eddie decided we were going to go to that hostel. The brothers decided they needed to continue because they were planning to complete the trail by Thanksgiving. As the boat approached we said goodbyes and Eddie and I were off to the hostel. The place was nothing what we imagined and everything we dreamed of. It was a old fishing/hunting/snowmobile lodge. Cabins right on the beach with sun shining on a huge grassy landscape that led you to the dock and a sandy beach where we swam in pure clean and warm water. No electricity as the owner kept the character of the wilderness with propane mantle lights in cabins and a huge wood fired stove in the main dining room. Then came dinner. We all had to be at the dining room at 5pm as dinner was prepared and served by the owner and his wife. I ordered the burger while Eddie ordered both the burger and pizza. These were not your ordinary burgers or pizzas. Instead unbelievable gourmet meals. Homemade zucchini breads for openers. Pizza crust and hamburger buns home made from scratch straight out of the oven. Even the lettuce and tomatoes on top were just picked from their gardens growing just out the door. It was so much food that everyone that stopped for the night could not finish and the wife would wrap in foil for everyone to take back to their cabins. Eddie and I thought about the brothers and how they would regret their decision to go on. Eddie and I got a semi-private cabin right on the shore with a deck and rocking chairs on a porch overlooking this huge 20 plus mile long lake in the wilderness. Loons abound calling out filled the air. After dinner we sat on the porch as the sun was setting to see in the far off west thunderstorms building and lighting in the sky. Dark streaks of rain could be seen and we knew were in for another night of heavy rains, but we smiles knowing we would be dry and sleeping in a real bed with a real mattress. As the rains reached the lake in downpours we could see down the lake that somewhere the two brothers were getting pounded by rain. As I watched the rain coming down, the conversations with Jessica many nights before began dancing in my head. I kept pondering what she said and how wrong I was about my first impression. I somehow knew she was much wiser that I thought and with her maturity level. Eddie and I tried to sleep but to no avail. I came out of my room about the same time and we decided t 11:30 we would eat the remainder of the pizza. I suggest we fire up the propane stove and heat it up. Of course we had to figure how to start such and old style yet beautiful oven. After ten minutes the pizza was in. All of a sudden the smoke detector pierced the intense quiet of the wilderness. Eddie scrambled to find a chair and figure how to get the damn thing off the wall high next to the ceiling. He handed it to me where I tried to stick it under my shirt to quiet the piercing sound and ran to the window to began airing it out. After about two minute, peace returned. We laughed as we ate the pizza knowing that every other camper including the owners must have hear it. Of course our fears were confirmed the next morning by everyone at breakfast which was again another gourmet experience including hand picked blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup. We then boarded the boat back to the AT and continue the hike. Misting rain was still in the air as we departed but within and hour we were in bright clear sunny skies and less humid air. By lunch the sky darkened and we stopped at the next shelter to let is rain out. Within minutes it poured than stopped just as fast so we decided to continue on to Antlers Campground, a state campsite not affiliated with the AT. I needed water so I ran with my bottles to the spring next to the shelter as Eddie put his backpack back on. The water out of the spring was clear and cold but suddenly thunder clapped overhead and rain poured on my before I could get the 100 feet back to the shelter. We took our packs off anticipating a wait but again within ten minutes it stopped and the sun returned.By 2pm we reached Antlers Campgroup. What a site. A peninsula of land stuck into another huge wilderness lake. With water on three sides the wind blew across the lake cooling us off and keeping the bugs at bay. Eddie set up his hammock on the two most far out trees right next to the water and I set up the tent about twenty yards away on a smooth soft ground with views all around me and an opening in the trees that would allow me to see the stars this night I hoped. It was a stunning location right out of a Normal Rockwell painting. After set up we went swimming in the lake with other hikers that had stopped there. As night approached we watched the sunset along with distance thunderstorms providing the grand view of nature¢s fireworks across the sky. Loons singing again on the lake only broken by the sounds of bugs buried deep in downed tree trucks that made a unusual and cool sound. It took Eddie and I about 30 minutes to figure this out as it sounded like someone tapping a drum that echoed throughout the evening forest. We never figured out how they got in there or what kind of bugs but their sound was a soothing as the loons. We assumed it might be a mating call. It was nearing 9pm and a gentle rain began so off to our tents for what was so far without doubt one of the most memorial nights in my life camping out¢¦..or so I thought¢¦¢¦.Chapter Three - My night of nights!