Date: 2004-09-01
From: Little Swift River Pond Campsite

To: Poplar Ridge Lean-to
Miles today: 15.5
Weather: broken clouds

Tried to get up after very vivid dreams. I managed toleave the campsite at 6:40 am. As I took a brief breakon the trail an hour into my hike, I heard a heavysigh behind me, as if someone wanted me out of theway. Instead, it was a moose about forty feet in thebrush concentrating on his breakfast. I wagered acloser look. He ran but stopped when he didn't think Iwas threatening. Pretty docile. After a few photos, Icrawled through the brush back to the trail and headedon my way.The climb up Saddleback Mountain wasn't too bad butthe peak was very windy. I met Jersey on the way up.He hiked north in '03 to Grafton Notch before the weather drove him to quit. Now he has returned tofinish. Jersey got to the peak shortly after me and weexchanged turns taking peak-bagging pictures. I triedto dry the condensation off my tent--a little trickywhen the wind was blowing so strong. The tarp creepedalong the rocks even though I held the corners downwith stones. While I sat behind a barricade, I ate and aerated myfeet. My boots and socks are wet as usual. The feetget white and wrinkly if I don't let them breathe. At the top of Saddleback, you should be able to seeKatahdin and Mt Washington, but I couldn't tell what Iwas looking at. The distant mountains were hazy andthe wind made my eyes water. Still, the clouds addeddrama to the view and I could see the climbs ahead upnorth. I would love to return to this range some day. There are three substantial climbs in the SaddlebackRange: Saddleback, the Horn, and Saddleback Junior. Allhad difficult downhills where there were rock slidesand more butt hiking. It drove me crazy how I'd creepalong with achy knees trying to figure a way downthese steep slabs of rock. Somewhere between Junior and Horn, I fell into a deeppool of mud. It was bound to happen sometime but thislooked like I lost at the game of Twister. My righthand was completely submerged, along with the pole itwas holding, and my left foot was ankle deep in thesludge. My right leg extended straight across aslippery log (the same log I assumed was a safe bridgeacross the puddle). Although I was practically sittingin the stuff, I made an heroic effort to keep myselffrom sitting down further in the mess. Meanwhile, Ihad about 35 lbs of dead weight on my back. Somehow I pulled myself out of it without making moreof a mess. I had mud dripping from my shorts and a section of my backpack. Not bad and itwill dry soon. The ordeal could have been worse. Andwhat can I do? Laundry day won't be for a five daysyet. Just part of the fun of the trail. I creeped up Junior. It was the same nasty climbingbut without the incredible views to distract me. Ialso started feeling the fatigue from climbing thefirst two mountains. At the shelter, I met a "Mainiac" Section hiker namedLilly Bell. It was cool to get some femaleconversation. Jersey showed up and we all talked about what was ahead--the good, the bad and theriver crossings. Megabyte showed up a little before dusk. He saideveryone is back at Rangeley relaxing. He ate in theshelter while we tried to sleep even though he had atent set up a few feet away--very strange. I kepthearing him scrape the bottom of his pan. This shelter is made with the baseball bat design.What that means is that the floor boards are round.Really uncomfortable and you have to watch your stuffincase something slips through. You can't sleep or sitwithout a thermarest.