Date: 2013-09-22
From: The Stratton Motel, ME 27

To: Safford Notch Campsite
Miles today: 10.4

It didn't take too long for me to go to sleep last night once I put my phone away. As much as I've enjoyed being "unplugged" it's hard to completely break the habit. At one point the electricity went out. I had a funny realization. Out on the trail, sometimes we have difficulty realizing the power of a storm since we have no electricity to "go out." When the power gets knocked out, it's all the same in the mountains. I kept waking up and looking out of the window to see if the storm had really hit. At 5:00 am, it was still so I felt hopeful that I might have a decent hiking day afterall. I got up to pee, and by the time I crawled back in bed, it looked like a hurrican had come ashore. The wind howled. The trees whipped. Sheets of rain hammered down and shattered the ground of the parking lot. I curled up in my blanket and wondered what it would mean for my day. If I were in a shelter, I would wait for it to let up a bit and then start hiking. But town allows you be a little less "hard." I got up around 6:30 and starting packing up my stuff. I'd head out at some point, but my departure time and mileage goals were still up in the air. I watched the staff members of the White Wolf Cafe duck inside, and soon their neon "Open" sign illuminated. I grabbed my phone and wallet and headed over. I called Tom, and we chatted while I sipped a cup of coffee. I LOVE being back in the same time zone as him and to be able to call him at will. His voice motivated me all the more to hike out. About the time that I hung up the phone, Pressure-D, Tough Cookie and Hobo showed up. They were still on the fence as to where to hike out or not. The rain was coming down, but nearly as heavily. We all moved to a bigger table when Walking Stick and Neema came in. I tried the "Sitting Duck" breakfast- 2 duck eggs, duck bacon & sauted veggies- and I wasn't disappointed. The White Wolf Cafe has some of THE best food on the trail. The group decided to zero, so I would be the soul hiker heading out. I said good-bye to everyone, and Hobo gave me a lift back to the trail in Becca's car. As I loaded my pack in the car, Hobo gave me a sad look, and I gave one back to him. I can't begin to express how much I've enjoyed having him as a hiking partner, friend and confidante. I sincerely hope they'll all catch up with me again soon. I suspect with Pressure-D in the mix it's quite possible! Fingers crossed.Hobo drove me back to the trailhead, and it started to rain as we got to the parking lot. We shared a few more laughs and a hug. We walked over and looked at the small memorial to Inchworm. There were some information fliers, but her disappearance is still a mystery. Then I walked across the road and turned to wave at Hobo one last time. He tooted the horn as he turned towards Stratton. And just like that, I was alone. The trail sagged down into the notch. The ground was scattered with bright red leaves, yellow leaves, orange leaves and green leaves. It looked like someone had scattered a large bag of leaf-shaped skittles. Their colors popped off the ground against the backdrop of dark black soil. I soon came upon a privy in the middle of the woods. All the established campsites in Maine seem to be equipped with them. And I must say, I'm much more likely to hike an extra .2 or .3 off the trail to an established campsite if there is a privy involved. A half mile later, I came across "2000" spelled out with large stones. Hells yeah! I took a few more photos, but I'll be honest, it didn't feel quite as momentous as the 1000-mile mark. Maybe it's just too big of a number to really process. Either way, the sun showed its face for just a moment as if to congratulate me. There were patches of blue sky that Joseph of the Flying J's calls "sucker holes." Hopefully they'll be more sincere today.There was a pretty steep climb up, but for the most part it was stone steps and dirt held together with thick webbed roots. There were some large boulders that looked like they had grown thick green wooly coats. They reminded me more of highland sheep than stationary stones. I passed a few ponds, but they were all moose-less. As I climbed up, I'd stop occassionally to look behind me. The storm clouds had loosened into tattered clouds. The sky was a soft blue. The mountain had changed its coat of green to a coat of coppery orange. The light shined down in patches, and the whole scene looked tie-dyed. I was so grateful that I had decided to hike out. I stopped at a "view" to have lunch. I put on my rain jacket to keep warm. My view looked out on to South & North Horn and panned around to the skihill of Sugarloaf. Clouds formed and dispersed as I ate lunch. I took several photos. Maine is pretty spectacular. There's a long lake that runs to the west of the Bigalows. It just seemed to appear out of nowhere. I stopped by the Horns Pond lean-to to see if anyone was hanging about. It was deserted. If any hikers had come earlier, surely they'd bounced once the weather improved. It sprinkled lightly for a minute or two, but then stopped. I passed the caretaker's hut and made a half-hearted greeting as I passed by. I assumed it was empty, but I heard some movement so I stopped. The caretaker was young and nice and seemed a little lonely and eager for human contact. I asked him about the upcoming terrain. He encouraged me to push past the next campsite (where I'd planned to stop) and on to the next one. It was at a lower elevations and out of the wind tunnel. He seemed to think that I'd have no trouble making it. I thanked him and started the climb. It was steep and rooty to get up to South Horn. I hadn't realized that I'd be about treeline again. The fog cleared, and I could see over towards Bigalow Mountain. It looked high, steep, rocky and bare. It reminded me of a sharp perch for some giant bird. And then the clouds moved in. There was a short steep down followed by some awesome trail walking. Dirt, flat, mostly smooth. Occasionally an impossibly deep puddle or bog, but mostly trail. Before I knew it, I was climbing up Bigalow. The tree shrunk, the wind picked up. I walked in a cloud that only occasionally allowed a hint of how high I was and how far the sides dropped off. Suddenly there was a wall of peach colored stone that I had to climb on top of and walk along to get to the summit. Jesus. The top stayed socked in, and quite frankly that was okay with me. I'd rather not know how far the sides dropped off. The trees below looked miles away. Fortunately, the climb down to Avery's campsite and Bigalow Col was a piece of cake. The climb from the Col up to Avery Peak? Like a minor Mahoosuc Notch. Avery Peak was also socked in and windy. I was too nervous about the edges to want to look around much, so I pressed on.I had been worried about the down, but it wasn't bad. It was long, but the wind had done a good job of drying the rocks where it could. There were several vista points off the trail, and I stopped at one to have a snack and snap a couple of photos of Little Bigalow Mountain. The lighting, the clouds, the fall colors, all of it was perfection. I passed a couple of Sobos, and I followed one set of wet boot prints, but other than that the trail was quiet. Once I started getting down into Safford Notch, the boulders got bigger and bigger. They seemed to be the size of small planets- some of then 5-6 stories tall and just as wide. They are stacked on each other like dice. The trail mazed its way through them, and I felt like a little hobbit on a big adventure. It all made me so happy. Today's hike is the first Maine hike that I wouldn't mind coming back to do again. The climbs are challenging but not killers. Same for the descents. The views are unparalleled, especially this time of year. I followed a side trail to the campsite. I set up my tent and went for water. I treated myself to my first package of Ramen noodles on the trail- Creamy Chicken w/ cheese curds and bacon bits. It was delicious! I talked to Tom and sewed up a huge hole in the butt of my shorts. It was so big I could easy fit my entire hand through it. It ripped open today as I was booty scooting. The wind is blowing, and it's pretty cool. But I'm dry and full and happy. I couldn't have asked for the day to have turned out any better than it did. Thank you, AT!