Date: 2003-08-31
From: ME 4 , Rangeley

To: Poplar Ridge Lean-To
Miles today: 10.7
Weather: broken clouds

Last night we heard the loons calling over the lake.This morning, it's the finest of days - sunny, breezy, a bit of a chill to the air. Perfect for climbing up to the Saddleback range. It is from here, trail legend has it, that we can glimpse our first far-off view of our final AT destination: Katahdin. Mother K. The "greatest mountain".I have high hopes for a glimpse today. It is very clear, blue skies. It is even a day that, back home, I would choose to hike! Ha!I haven't thought about Katahdin much. Shoot, I hadn't thought about MAINE much, yet one day, here I was. "MAINE?!" my friend Puff-Puff had written in a shelter register after the border. "Nobody told me I was hiking to MAINE!!!" We walk above treeline again today, for three exposed miles. It's fortunate the weather is starting out pleasant. I know there will be no hustle in me, despite the huge breakfast feast Judy (MaFinch) has prepared for us. Their lakeside hospitality on this long leg of the Trail, when we are wearing down, is especially meaningful. We call Judy our Appalachian Long Distance Trail Angel. Our noodle servitude has been postponed one final day. But now it's campsites and ramen for the most part.Over breakfast, a long-standing mystery is solved. Chief wanted to see what a house finch looked like. Our host Finch, if you recall, had done his dissertation on these birds. Judy brought over a novelty clock that had various birds in place of numbers. (Their young grandson called it the "buck-buck clock.") House finch was straight up at twelve. But down at the clock's bottom - WHOA! That was it! Ureka! Remember that robin-sized, crayon-yellow breasted bird I'd seen back in July, and whose identity had eluded me - until now? Staring back at me was a perfect rendition of the very bird I had spied in the woods - the "northern oriole," six o'clock on the buck-buck clock.More trivia: driving through Rangeley, Finch informs us that we are now roughly halfway between the equator and the North Pole. The things you can learn hanging around with educators.Judy makes the long drive, dropping Finch, me and Chief off at the trailhead. Chief and I hug her, then leave them to say their goodbyes in private.The first shelter is close to the Trailhead, only 2 miles. Piazza Rock Lean-To showcases a special privy, for social types. It's a two-seater outhouse built by L.L. Bean, I'm told. In between the two toilet seats is affixed a working cribbage board. On the outside of the privy, a large sign: "Your Move.."Maine humor.The walking is uphill, of course, with heavy food bags. We lunch on the rocks by a lovely pond called Eddy. There are rocky patches and islands out there. I wish for my kayak to poke around. The day is turning windy.We continue up Saddleback toward the first peak. The trees grow smaller and soon we are walking on rock, with only small tufts of knee-high trees.Saddleback is studded with "glacial erratics," rounded boulders dumped by retreating glaciers. Glacial erratics... as a "word" person, I love that.Looking ahead toward the first peak of Saddleback, I saw a couple walking with... a border collie! I have an eye for these dogs, having raised three generations myself. It brought to mind my most excellent day with Nell, the super Trail dog.As they drew closer, I startled - the dog sure looked a lot like Nellie. "Turnbill?" I called out, tentatively: "Nell?"It WAS them! Nellie ran up and covered my face with doggie kisses, which made me ecstatic. Then she turned to find a rock. Bill and his wife Dianne came up with a bag of blueberries and mountain cranberries. They were going to do muffins, or maybe pancakes. They live an hour and a half away, and were out for a tramp.We turned our backs to the wind and chatted, while Nell tried to interest us in her rock. I sit and try to photograph her, but it's like capturing a hummingbird. BCs are rarely still.Bill fishes in his pocket and gives us some coffee-flavored hard candy Nips. "It's not coffee," he said, "but you'll have the taste." We bid them all good-bye, and continue our walk up the rocky face of Saddleback. Great to reconnect.Groaning and sherpa-ing up to the bare, windy summit, I spy an orange kite rise into the air. It makes me smile. A couple of guys were launching it - "we bring one up here every time we come," they said. It sails.Their father confirms our sighting of Sugarloaf Mt., which we've been watching grow larger for a week. They say you can see all the way back to Mt. Washington from here too, though I forgot to look. The man then points to a faint blue smudge, the farthest horizon. Katahdin, he says, if you use your imagination.Katahdin! For the first time, tangible evidence. If you use your imagination.A long, windy, chilly hike up the Horn, and I must report with relief that while I saw scat, I did NOT meet Notes' CHARGING mama moose. Then another steep down-and-up to Saddleback Junior. These climbs and descents take us all day, and we are weary near the end. The heavy food bag has made my feet smush flat with every step, and me dogs want rest. At Poplar Springs Lean To, the floor is made of peeled pine longs - baseball bat flooring, it is called. I am skeptical as to how it will sleep. In the old days, hikers made beds of fresh pine boughs, but in these Leave-No-Trace times, the practice is actively discouraged. Oh well, under my blow-up pad goes my raincoat and pack cover, plus a spare Sports Illustrated hanging around the lean-to.My pallet doesn't feel too bad, I guess. If you use your imagination.