Date: 2016-08-30
To: Shirley-Blanchard Rd. Monson
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: clear sky

Destination: Shirley-Blanchard Rd., MonsonStart: Moxie Pond Rd.Miles: 18.5When I woke in the morning both stakes at the front of the tarp had pulled out during the wind and rain overnight. The bottom foot and a half of my sleeping bag was wet. However, I didn¢t wake through this and didn¢t get cold or wet underneath the tarp. By the time I got up the weather had cleared. I stuffed most of my sleeping bag into its stuff sack and left the wet end hanging out, hoping it would dry in the van during the day.Steve had a much rougher night. Ron got up to pee during the night. Steve heard Ron leave his tent and thought he¢d slept through his alarm. He quickly dressed, took his tent down, and drank two energy drinks. Just then Ron came back and asked him why he was up at 1 in the morning! Steve set his tent back up but didn¢t get much sleep because he was so buzzed on caffeine. We started early as usual. Although the hike wasn¢t difficult, it was long ¢ 18.5 miles. For the first 3 miles the trail went slightly uphill. Then there was a moderately steep 2-mile ascent to the top of Moxie Bald Mountain, followed by a moderately steep 2-mile descent.   The next 11 miles were very gradually downhill, with an uphill for the last half mile. I hiked with Steve to the top of Moxie Bald Mountain. On the way we passed through a place where boulders were piled on top of each other, and the trail went underneath the rocks. At one place we walked along a knife-edge big boulder following cairns, piles of rocks that are used as markers for the route of the trail. The top of the mountain had house-sized boulders and soft-edged smaller rocks with short scrubby plants and stunted evergreen trees. We reached the top just before 8:30. There we found Gene and Bill taking a break in the sun. We all sat down and had snacks, then took pictures of the views from the mountain and ourselves at the sign marking the summit. I was last to head out. At one spot I wasn¢t sure where the trail continued north. I walked around on various rocks till I came to a cairn that marked the way. I reached Bald Mountain Stream at the end of the steeper descent shortly after 12:30. It was a lovely spot with bright blue sky, so I stopped to take a photo. I walked on a large dead tree to cross the stream and continued on the gradual downhill. On the long downhill I noticed the my left foot had begun to hurt on the instep. It wasn¢t rubbing such as causes a blister, but it was sore and had pangs of pain as though the shoe was touching a nerve. I¢d heard that soaking sore feet in cold water would bring relief. So I stopped several times during the day to soak the foot ¢ at Pleasant Pond near the lean-to, at the West Branch of the Piscataquis before fording, and finally in a small stream near the end of the hike. The cold water did relieve the pain temporarily, but it soon returned. For the rest of the hike I focused on keeping a good pace so as to arrive at our meeting place before dark. I met several southbound hikers on the way ¢ a man hiking with his dog, a man taking a break at the West Branch of the Piscataquis River, and a woman setting up her hammock near the East Branch of the Piscataquis River. I stopped briefly to talk to each of them. Rounding one corner I came upon a man carrying full hiking gear but wearing only hiking boots and white men¢s briefs. I did not stop to talk to him. (Later, back at camp, we discussed ¢underwear man.¢ Bill had asked him why he wore no clothes. The answer was ¢so I don¢t get overheated¢!)I was looking forward to reaching the Piscataquis River because that¢s my home river. I spent ages 5 through 13 in Dover-Foxcroft, and the Piscataquis runs right through it. It¢s where I learned to ice skate and where I launched my first and only raft. The water level at the West Branch was very low. The rocks were slimy. A cable was suspended above the crossing so that hikers can grab it for support. I used my hiking stick to pull the cable down to where I could reach it, collapsed my stick, and started across with both hands on the cable. When I got about ten feet from the other shore I could no longer reach the ground. I wasn¢t tall enough, and the combined weight of my pack and me didn¢t weigh me down enough to reach. I had to pull out my stick, extend it, and carefully ease my way across the rest of the way without the help of the cable. The trail paralleled the river for a ways. There were high cliffs on the other side of the river. It was very pretty, but the bank was too steep for me to get close enough to take a picture. The second crossing was shorter, and I got across by stepping from one rock to the next. The last few miles of the hike seemed interminable. This was the farthest I¢ve ever walked, and I was completely exhausted when I got to our meeting place shortly after 7. Warren picked us up in the van, and we headed into Monson to get some real food. By the time we reached our (illegal) camping place at the Lake Hebron beach it was totally dark. The night was warm, and the loons were calling, so I laid my ground cloth, sleeping pad, and sleeping bag down on the sand and went to sleep.