Date: 2004-10-14
From: logan brook lean-to

To: monson, me
Miles today: 13.2
Weather: light rain

"a white cap sunrise, a brief encounter, and a warm bed"is it really 3:30 already? it is entirely too early and too cold to even think about getting up right now. i am going to reset my alarm for 4:30.is it really 4:30 already? it is entirely too early and too cold to even think about getting up right now. but, i have to. the stars will fade with the approach of dawn and i won't be able to get any good nighttime shots.i am slow to get out of my sleeping bag and slow to pack up my gear. as i tighten down the straps on my pack and start the climb up white cap, my watch reads 5:15. i know that the sun will break the horizon in an hour and a half. the going is slow. i don't have much energy. especially not this early in the morning. i can see the stars through the trees above me. they are still bright against the black sky.it doesn't seem like i am getting anywhere. i know that i am, though. the trail is getting steeper and i am climbing higher. i look up and notice that the sky is starting to get some color in it. the stars look slightly dimmer.i am hit by a stiff wind as i break above treeline. i find a good spot to drop my pack and set up my camera. the thermometer reads 30 degrees. this is definitely the coldest i have seen on this trip. the stars are fading out of sight. the sky is getting lighter. i can make out the mountains and lakes below me. the horizon begins to change color. i can barely make out the shape of mount katahdin in the distance.sunsrise can't come soon enough. it is cold up here. it is worth it, though. once again, the sunrise is incredible. i don't think there is such thing as a bad sunrise in maine. sun breaks the horizon and rays of light settle on the flanks of katahdin. the air warms slightly as the sun gets higher in the air.i have come to realize that i cannot do these sunrises justice. i cannot put them into words. with the start of everyday, God takes a blank canvas and paints a wonderful masterpiece across the sky. each day He creates something new and amazing. all i can do is appreciate it for what it is and try to make the most of the day that the Lord has made.i pack my gear and set off down the trail. i have already made the decision to try and hitch a ride to monson today. my food has almost run out and i am spent. so, i will cross the west branch of the pleasant river and try to get a ride at the next logging road. the same logging road that i hitched out from last year. that logging road is almost twelve miles away. it is a very long twelve miles at that.after descending from white cap, i still have to cross hay mountain, west peak, and gulf hagas mountain. the sun is somewhere in the clouds right now. i hear some hikers coming up the trail towards me. i look at my watch and it is only 7:30. they must have gotten an early start. i round a turn in the trail and step aside to let two hikers pass- a man and a woman. we exchange good mornings and they are gone, climbing towards hay mountain, moving at a very fast pace. the man looked very familiar. i'm pretty sure i've seen him somewhere. or, at least a picture of him. i'm pretty sure that was flyin' brian that i just passed on the trail. he is the first person to have hiked the triple crown (the appalachian trail, continental divide trail, and pacific crest trail) in one calendar year. i have seen his picture and read his journal of the adventure on his website i'm almost positive that was him.i decide to take a break at the sidney tappan campsite. "beans" gave me some chocolate and strawberry flavored protein shakes the other day. yesterday i tried the strawberry and it was fairly miserable. today i mix up a chocolate shake, hoping that it will be somewhat better and it isn't. not at all. it is also fairly miserable. but, it is sustenance, so i am going to choke it down. this thing has the most disgusting after taste of anything i've ever eaten. i don't know if that is really much of an exaggeration, either. i manage to swallow all of it. i feel like a little kid that is taking what is supposed to be grape flavored medicine, but really doesn't taste much like grape at all. we all had to take it at some point or another and none of us could stand it. but, it was good for us, and so is the protein shake- or, so they say.the climb to the summit of gulf hagas mountain seems long, but the trail has opened up a little bit and the sun is shining through the clouds. i am glad to finally reach the top. now i only have seven more miles to the woods road. and, it is all downhill. an easy seven miles. it seems like the carl newhall shelter is much closer this time. of course, last time i hiked through here it was dark and i was exhausted. this time, it is light and i'm already exhausted, and my feet are hurting bad. i am looking forward to taking off these boots to ford the river. i know the water will be freezing cold, but maybe it will numb the pain of the blisters.as i take the short side trail leading to the shelter i can hear hikers coming up the AT. i drop my pack and thumb through the shelter register, waiting for the hikers to show up. they never come. that was flyin' brian that i passed on the trail this morning. they did over thirty miles yesterday. i guess that is why they call him flyin' brian. i guess that is why he can hike 7,000 miles in less than a year.these last five miles to the river seem to take forever. i don't know if i'm ever going to get there. but, i finally do. and, i sit beside the river for a long time. i'm not looking forward to crossing this thing. i know it is going to be so very cold. i am almost tempted to cross in my hiking boots. maybe they will give a little bit of insulation against the cold. but, then i'll have wet hiking boots to deal with and wet hiking boots suck. so, i put on my sandals, tie my boots to my pack, and rush into the river.it is cold. very cold. my legs feel like they're going numb and my stomach hurts it is so cold. i can't get across this river fast enough. eventually i am across and as soon as i step out of the water, my legs begin to thaw, and it hurts. i don't put my socks and boots in just yet. after a few seconds the pain in my legs begins to recede as the warmth of the sun starts to work its magic. i realize that it has actually turned into a pleasant day. i have been so absorbed in getting out of these woods that i haven't even noticed. it is warm today. indian summer seems t be in full swing. i actually enjoy the last half mile to the woods road.i see a chevy tahoe parked in the little area beside where the trail crosses the road. i have been to this spot before. i sit down to put my boots back on and wait for a car to drive by. there isn't much traffic today. there isn't any traffic today. i wonder what the deal is with this tahoe. does it belong to a dayhiker? is this person coming back anytime soon? are they going to monson?what if nobody ever comes? someone will come eventually. they always do. they leaves of the birch tree above me are so yellow. i don't think i've eve seen such a deep shade of golden yellow before. they look even more yellow contrasted against the dark blue of the sky.i hear someone coming down the trail. an old man and his dog emerge from the woods. the dog comes over to say hello and the man heads towards the tahoe. this is my chance to get out of here. play it cool. don't seem to anxious."hey there," i say to the dog. he wags his tail and comes closer to let me pet him. i scratch behind his ears, which he seems to really like.the man calls the dog over so they can leave."you wouldn't be going to monson, would you?""nope. going to guilford.""that's on the way to monson, right?""sure is. you want a lift?""if it's not too much trouble.""no trouble at all," the man says. "hop in."so, i get in the tahoe and we pull away. i have just left the trail at the exact spot that i did last year. interesting. i guess i'll have to come back up here to do that thirty miles to monson some other time. i hear the barren-chairback range is actually quite nice.my driver is old and is a man of few words. when he does speak, he speaks of a great life in the woods of northern maine. he tells of his camp that is twenty miles up into the woods from moosehead lake. he tells of retirement from the paper industry and of spending his days hiking with his dog now.i am dropped off at a place called indian hill. there is a trading post, gas station, and grocery store. the man says i should have a pretty good chance of finding a ride from here. i thank him for the ride and he pulls away.across the road i start walking towards monson. a few hundred yards from indian hill i look back to see a truck pulling up behind me. the man motion me over."where you headed?""monson.""well, i'm not going all the way to monson, but i can at least get you a few miles down the road."sounds good to me.my new driver is going bird hunting tonight. there is a box of shotgun shells on the seat between us and a shotgun behind the seat. his hat is blaze orange just like mine.i am dropped off at the bottom of a long hill- it looks like it climbs for almost a mile. i thank the bird hunter for the ride and he pulls away, turning onto a side road. i throw my pack onto my back once again and start walking. cars pass and i stick out my thumb. they don't slow down. instead, they push the gas to get enough speed to make it up the hill. logging trucks fly by, down shifting in the process. i finally crest the hill and just as i do a bright yellow pick up truck pulls over.i drop my pack in the bed and climb into the front. the smell of beer hits me as i open the door. the man behind the wheel has an open bottle between his leg. he is quick to offer me one, pointing to what's left of the six pack at my feet. i am quick to decline. we talk hiking. most people that have given me a lift over the years talk hiking. they seem fascinated in the tales that i tell of my adventures. i am often surprised at how many of these people say that they one day hope to hike the trail. i never know if they're just saying it to be polite -as a way of trying to relate to me- or if they really mean it.we pull up to the post office in monson and it is closed. i thank the man for the ride ad he pulls away.monson.i like this town.i head for the monson general store in search of my buddy, tim- owner and operator. i set my pack on the bench out front-just as i've done before-and walk inside. it is all familiar. tim is behind the counter. the soft glow of flourescent lighting. the shelves are full of anything and everything you could possibly want or need. i like this place. i head straight for the back to get a quart of chocolate milk and some ice cream on a stick. first things first.at the counter."you look familiar," says tim. "you've been in here before, haven't you?""i sure have. about this same time last year.""yep. okay. don't tell me. it'll come to me. uh huh. it's grizzly adam, right? and, you were heading south last year, right?""wow. you're good.""and, i'm wanting to say you're from....north carolina?""tim. i am thoroughly impressed.""ah, you remember my name too, grizzly.""sure. but, how many hikers come through here? i'd say it is a little easier for me to remember one name like yours than the other way around."it is good to see tim. he is a great person. he invites me over to sit at the lunch counter with him and the woman who runs it, who's name i don't catch. they are in the middle of watching the movie, s.w.a.t., which i have seen a few times before. i sit anyway and drink the rest of my chocolate milk. i pick up a can of pringles from the shelf and start to eat them. i make a note to remember to pay for them before i leave.i made the descision a while ago that i was going to stay at the lakeshore house when i got to monson. my good buddy from blue ridge, underdog (AT2001), highly recommended it. plus, i didn't feel like buying into the years long feud between the two local hiker hostels. i tell tim of my plans to stay at the lakeshore house and he helps me try to track down the owner, bob. we can't get him on the phone so we go back to watching the movie. bob walks into the store a few minutes later. tim introduces us and we make arrangements for me to stay the night. bob says that he is heading that way if i want a ride. i pay for my pringles, tell tim i'll see him tomorrow, and hop in bob's car.the lakeshore house is located in the same building as the laundry mat. bob owns both of them. apparhently bob owns half the properties in monson. he tells me that i'll be the only guest for the night, so i have my pick of rooms. of course, i opt for the two bedroom suite on the first floor. it has its own bathroom and a living room with cable tv and a large window that over looks lake hebron. i have full use of the industrial kitchen and the laundry is right here. this place is great.bob is heading down to new york tomorrow on business, but says he'll stop by in the morning to check on things. alone, now, i step out the back door to watch the sun set over lake hebron.it is beautiful.