Date: 2004-09-14
From: West Carry Pond

To: Stealth Camp. N. of Caratunk
Miles today: 14.0

The loons on the pond made their haunting call through the night and into the morning, which was a cold 45 degrees. Knowing the ferry shuts down at 4pm, I got going by 630 despite the chill. The big juicy blueberry I had spotted the previous day at the turnoff to the shelter was still there so I broke my berry fast first thing. There was a scattering of blueberries the rest of the day, mostly along the ponds and streams.I needn't have worried about time. All the way to Pierce Pond Lean-to most of the Trail was soft, smooth and flat. Just the sort of easy hiking I have missed all these weeks! There were great shoreline views of the large ponds, really lakes, that I passed. Along the way a section of the Trail followed the route Benedict Arnold marched 1100 troops north to join in the historic storming of Quebec on Christmas 1775. I was at Pierce Pond by 130. The rest of the way down the Pierce Pond Stream canyon was a bit more rugged but I did not mind. It had some nice rapids and waterfalls to look at and I still got to the Kennebec ten minutes before the 2-4 afternoon ferry hours. Two men arrived soon after and one of them kindly took my camera to take a picture of me when I set off on my canoe trip.Soon a man dragged a canoe out of the woods on the opposite shore and paddled across. He introduced himself as a stand-in for Steve "The Ferryman" Longley, who had the day off. He had me sign a liability waiver and handed me a lifejacket to put on while he set my pack in the canoe. Then he adjusted my vest and had me get in. The hiker took my picture and handed my camera back to me, gave his pack to go across with me to lighten the next load, and shoved us off. There was an extra paddle, so I even got to paddle instead of just sitting. The current was fairly fast and we had to go back upstream on the other side to get near the landing. He helped me out, unloaded the packs, then went back for the two men and the remaining pack.A southbounder had reported Steve getting mad at him for staying at the Caratunk House Hostel instead of with him, so I did not bother asking for directions. Another town with a turf war! I put on my pack, hiked to the road and turned towards Caratunk. I saw a man in front of one house and was about to ask directions when he offered me a soda and snacks from a big cooler and introduced himself as One Braid, owner of Caratunk House. Or former owner. It seems someone had reported him for serving food to hikers and forced him to close! That was an unpleasant surprise as I had planned on staying there.Fortunately One Braid was still selling off his stock of hiker supplies. I bought enough to get me through to Monson, including a 5 oz pack of tuna to make up for the cheeseburger I had been hoping for. Then I gave him my thanks and headed back for the Trail.I went high enough above the road that the noise of passing lumber trucks would not disturb my sleep, then started looking for a campsite. At what looked like an very overgrown abandoned dirt road I pushed through some low trees to a level spot out of sight of the Trail. There I set up my tent and hung my bear rope ready for my food bag after supper. There were so many mosquitoes that I ducked into my tent. I had less than a liter of water and the next water was another 2-3 miles ahead. Between that and the mosquitoes I decided not to cook but instead to go back to the cold food routine I had followed in the middle of my hike. Just as well, as I suddenly realized I had only bought food for the next two nights, having planned on eating tonight's supper at the hostel! Digging around, I got out my last bar of Halvah from the Hanover Food CoOp. It had even more calories than a pack of ramen so with the extra big pack of tuna it would feed me for supper. I had gotten an extra pack of poptarts so breakfast was taken care of, and I had peanutbutter and Ramen for the next two nights. Saved! This was the first night I had just camped by myself beside the Trail in a long time. I think the last time was when I fled the singing summer campers back before Delaware Water Gap. It worked out for the best, because I got a bit nearer to the next stop and avoided the late start usual with towns and hostels. Now just 151 miles left!