Date: 2010-09-01
From: Safford Notch Campsite

To: West Carry Pond Lean-to
Miles today: 12.2
Weather: few clouds

 01 September Wednesday ¢ 12.2 miles to West Carry Pond Lean-toIt was so hot outside again last night that my 15 degree bag slept by my feet. The wind blew so strongly that we were all worried about breaking limbs above our heads. I could hear crackling of dead trees and branches all around the campsite. I always forget to look for widow-makers where I place my tarp. Conan was in the most danger from breaking trees because they were under the food bag limb. The branch suspending three food bags was cracked and barely hanging on this morning. I could hear the branch snapping and popping all night.Feeling excited today because we¢re finishing the last difficult section of the AT. Warren Doyle said that after the Bigelows the trail becomes more docile. Warren also claims to have hiked the trail 16 times. We¢ll take his word. I¢m very relieved and hopeful that the rest of the trail might be enjoyable from now on. We¢re all ready to feel more comfortable and less threatened. There have been so many places recently where I could have broken a leg at any moment. I find it hard to believe that this trail will be easy but it¢s nice to pretend.Pony, Conan, Backward, Seeker, and I ate breakfast while watching a chipmunk beg for food. We meet the SOBO hiker that came in late yesterday. He was so tired that he didn¢t speak to anyone. This morning he¢s friendlier. He flipped after reaching Waynesboro, VA. That would be a nice place to hike back to I thought. We all love that town. I would later find the SOBO hikers water bottle that he¢d lost.Large rocks and boulders waited for us on our morning stroll. The last hard part never truly lived up to its name. The last day in the Bigelows wouldn¢t be that challenging. The holes between the rocks were blowing icy cold on our legs as we passed. Those natural air conditioners would have been an excellent sleeping spot. There aren¢t any places to lay flat around the cool ventilation spots. Looking south from the Bigelow¢s made me proud that I didn¢t skip any of those mean looking ridgelines. Maybe I saw the top of Sugarloaf, but it¢s probably a different mountain resort. If that¢s Sugarloaf then I¢ve been going in on long zigzag.The climb up Little Bigelow was nice and gentle. I enjoyed walking on flat ground while staring at the vistas at the same time. I took a break and watched as two hawks soared above me. It¢s hazy and hot so the views aren¢t all they could be but they still inspire a sense of gratitude. Gratitude that its behind me. When I reached the foot of the Bigelows I could hear logging vehicles nearby.I took a long break in the sunlight outside the lean-to. I¢m enjoying this nice morning when Backwards and Conan arrive. Everyone¢s feeling happy today. There is a nice spirit because we all feel the worst is behind us. Warren Doyle left instructions in the trail register. Mr. Doyle recommended fording the Kennebec River. Mr. Doyle left detail instructions for how to walk through waist deep water. He also included his theory for safely crossing between dam releases. This river is controlled by civil engineers who release the waters from the dam periodically. Mr. Doyle recommends fording the river between 6am and 9am when the dam isn¢t scheduled to be released. Personally I have no problem taking the free ferry across the Kennebec. I¢m not fording. I¢m paddling! Not walking for a change sounds exactly like what I intend to do. Still Mr. Doyle believes we should walk the entire AT. The AT is defined as a footpath, is Mr. Doyle¢s reasoning.There were a lot of great entries into the lean-to trail register. Everyone is congratulating each other for reaching the 2000 mile mark. Thinking about how far I¢ve come puts a huge grin on my face. It hardly seems like 1000 miles. Amazing how the time flies away. Reading the journal wasn¢t as fun as watching the friendly chipmunk. That chipmunk was the least fearful of any that I have encountered. He sniffed my food bag from 3 inches away. Here he is in broad daylight so I wonder how hard he is to deal with at night.The trail was kind as we left the shelter. You could push a shopping cart for a while. When we got to Flagstaff Lake, things took a turn for worse. It¢s my theory that the trail becomes ¢bumpy¢ anytime we¢re near a large water source. Roots appear out of nowhere. Around lakes the trail is a race track with curbs and hills. There¢s a reroute at the lake that makee no sense at all. They¢re making a new trail and circumnavigating the old AT. They¢re calling it the Hemlock Trail.They¢re running us closer to the lake at the expense of the soil surrounding the water. So much erosion and root exposure that you can fall knee deep in loose soil. Its raining dirt here and it¢s all in the name of getting the AT closer to the lake. We could access the lake if we felt like swimming. It¢s not like you don¢t realize there¢s a lake nearby. It¢s also not impossible to consider that we would walk to the lake if we felt like it. Instead I¢m going around my elbow to get to my thumb. This place is like a rollercoaster with a damaged track. The old AT is only a few feet away and here we¢re churning and plowing fresh ground.The new trail isn¢t finished yet so we have to return to the Old AT. The Hemlock Trail (Old AT) is just above us on the hill. The reroute essentially doubles back 14 mile when we reconnect with the Hemlock Trail. Complete waste of energy. The reroute was exhausting and mentally taxing. The thru-hikers are going to bitch and whine about this one a lot until it¢s completed. Maybe they should finish the new trail before rerouting the old one!I really wouldn¢t care if it weren¢t so hot today. Maine has been uncomfortably warm lately. The chaffing has begun. Hot flesh, salt and sweat combine to leave scuff marks on your thighs. Lucky for me I know the magic cure for chaffing. Vagisil! I actually had to utilize my supply a few times through Maine. The New England nights are cold but their days can still feel like you¢re in Florida.I instantly stop and stare by side of Long Falls Dam Rd. My eyes focus on a mile marker spray painted onto the street. ¢2000¢ written in simple white numbersThere¢s a sign that speaks volumes. I feel incredibly tired when I see this sign. I¢m thankful. When you see this sign you should be chaffed, sweaty, hot and mad. When you get to the 2000 mile mark, you should be pissed off. You should feel something very strong. Seeing this sign any other way wouldn¢t have been the same.I walk across the street and sit down in the shade. After a few wind gusts, I wasn¢t in the shade anymore. Today¢s partly cloudy and hot. I¢m so tired that it took me a while to realize I was sitting right in the blazing hot sun. The clouds had shifted in the baby blue sky and I had to find some shade. Seeker arrived after I found a nice peaceful spot to rest by the road. Conan, Backwards, and Pony were next. We were polite and didn¢t start bitching about the trail reroute right away. When the silence on the subject was broken there were a lot of angry words spoken by my fellow 2000 milers. We¢re all pretty disappointed we didn¢t take the Hemlock Trail.It¢s funny how we wait for someone else to complain first. It¢s like a poker game until someone breaks their composure and says what they¢re thinking. It¢s a guessing game for a little while. Who¢s pissed? I guess I do most of my bitching and moaning here in my journal. My favorite part of thru-hiker bitching sessions is waiting for the funniest comment. Sticks will win if he¢s around. He doesn¢t hold back. Sticks won¢t wait for others to complain first.We¢re trying to look pathetic as cars pass by. Hopefully someone will stop and offer us something cold and fizzy to drink. Seeker waved down a truck as it traveled down Long Falls Dam Rd. Seeker gets half of a diet coke for her brave lack of dignity. She shared the diet coke flavored ice cubes with me so I was very grateful. Seekers a nice lady! She¢s not afraid to ask for anything. Seeker can be food aggressive. I offered some of the diet coke flavored ice water to Backward. Backward had been craving diet coke, but Seeker snatched it out of my hands before I could share.No luck at scoring any other charity from passers by. Logging trucks use this Dam Rd to remove tons of beautiful trees. There¢s something that hurts inside me every time I see those dead trees. Every 5 minutes a truck full of trees roars right over our 2000 mile mark in the highway. The trees seem wave goodbye as the big tires howl past. The naked trunks sway and bounce in the black clouds of diesel engine exhaust.Sitting on this road and begging isn¢t working. I decide to motivate myself with a few handfuls of Cheez-it¢s. I¢m the donkey (ass) and the White Chedder crackers are the carrot to get me moving. There¢s one more mountain to climb before reaching our destination.I follow behind Conan for motivation. I¢m not feeling like a 2000 miler today. I¢m feeling more like a wimp for all the whining that¢s been going on in my mind today. Backwards really comes through with the motivation. She flies up the hill and it¢s over before we knew it. She was rolling and not looking back. Conan was listening to music just ahead of me. I see Conan stumble and grab his leg. He lifted his leg actually so I thought he had smacked it against something. From his painful reaction, I guessed that he¢d whacked his shin on a rock. His face looks like he football punted his leg into a large pile of pain. I felt pretty bad for him. I hoped that he wasn¢t injured. It was hard to tell from 35ft away.Then Conan jumped in the air and flayed his arms around. Conan uses trekking poles (hiking sticks) and they¢re looped around his wrists. The poles fly through the air when he waves his arms. I thought he was throwing a fit. He¢d had enough and he wasn¢t going to take it anymore.It was a hornet nest.Conan had been attacked by hornets and they kept attacking him. They kept biting him until he brushed them off and ran away. I¢m still 35ft away. Well, I¢m 37ft away when I realized hornets were attacking Conan.¢They bit me twice!¢ shouted Conan.I bushwhacked around the nest. Luckily for me I was in the third place hiking position. The third person learns from everyone¢s mistakes. The second person hiking always gets bit by hornets. The leader of the pack usually eats spider webs.I feel bad for Conan but thankful that he¢s not allergic to hornets. Conan has two crater sized whelps just below his right knee. Two bites on the same leg. I tell him they¢re going to hurt for a while. The bites will hurt and your leg might swell up a little. Conan takes it like a man and doesn¢t complain about it again.I¢m excited to see the pond were we¢re staying tonight. West Carry lean-to has a swimming spot! We¢re looking forward to washing off after being hot and sweaty today. After crossing the 2000 mile mark nothing could be finer than an icy cold bath in Maine. I¢m in the water as soon as we get there. I wanted to jump in before I knew better. I wanted to get wet and cold before my sweat dried. My first bath after becoming a 2000 mile thru-hiker! Conan and Backward get in also. They both count down to dunking completely into the water. They use their fingers to count as they bluff each other. They fake each other out and neither one went down on 3. I was already the first to fully submerge. They get their sun bleached hair wet when they synchronized their flop into the water.It¢s nice being here today. Being here with friends makes it even better. What a view! West Carry Pond lean-to is 100ft from the shoreline. You can hear the waves splashing against the rocks. Looking south you can see mountains that we don¢t have to climb anymore. The reflection of the shoreline is hazy in the shiny glare of my own personal oil slick. There¢s a rainbow of grease around where I stand in the water. The three 2000 milers are polluting the water with hiker funk. Life is good! I haven¢t bathed or showered in a week.We hang around the shore eating dinner and chatting about today¢s adventure. We¢re all hoping to see a Moose come out before the sunset. We see a Loon! This was my first sighting of the sleek black diving bird. They can hold their breath for an amazingly long time. Conan, Backward, Pony, Seeker and I watch as the sun makes a soft pink departure into the evening. The light fades to purple throughout the skies and we all fade away into shadows. We¢re sitting on large rocks by the shoreline.¢Maine is slowly becoming the most beautiful state¢ says BackwardWe can hardly disagree with her. The fading beauty of West Carry pond made me feel as if I should hold my breath. I wanted to stop time but all I can do is not breath. All I wanted was to hold this all in and never let go.There¢s a small engine boat riding all over the lake. The sound of it is obnoxious. We¢re all wondering if the boat might have cookies or Pepsi onboard. We¢re desperate enough to beg. Conan turns on his strobe light head lamp and flags the people over. The boat drives over to see what we want. We want a Pepsi but no one mentions it. The man and woman are out for an evening stroll around their backyard. They are retired and live nearby. They shut off the boat engine. Silence fell and the quiet night air collapses all around us like a blanket. The clanking metal sounds echo into the darkness and all I want is a Pepsi. The friendly couple tells us about living here in this wonderful place. They must be bored in the winter. They go to the store once every two weeks. They have to snowshoe, ski or sled across the frozen pond in the harsh cold season. They hibernate and drink alcohol. Their entertainment is warming themselves by the fire.Everyone is envious.I guess I¢ll never know what retired life feels like. I may have given up the retired life for this journey. The guy living here might be an ex-congressional member for all we know. He is lucky to live in such a protected area. I¢m not sure, is this place protected? If not then West Carry Pond certainly should be protected.The AMC purchased property near Flagstaff, which isn¢t good news at all. Flagstaff Lake is very close to this area. The AMC¢s presence here may or may not be a good thing. The AMC has changed their name here in Maine. The AMC organization calls itself, Harbor Trails now.Tonight I fall asleep to the howls of Loons. The bugles of Moose all around the pond let me know I was safe here. No logging trucks will keep me from resting tonight. The scurrying ninja chipmunks are my biggest concern tonight.Life is beautiful!