Date: 2003-09-11
From: Chairback Gap Leanto

To: Sidney Tappan Campsite
Miles today: 11.7
Weather: broken clouds

Note to self: Red squirrels wake up about 5:30 am, at first light. Cheeky little buggers. How can they be so perky, chirring and squeaking, before coffee?I linger this morning, even making coffee. This is something I rarely take the time for, haven't since March. But I woke up and smelled the honeymooners' coffee. The morning seems to call for it. I am just loving this 100 Mile Wilderness so far, though it is beating my body up. Before Monson, I couldn't wait to finish. Now I am dragging my heels. I must need therapy.With 88 miles left to go, I've discovered the origins of my left foot problem, and it's a little worrisome. My left orthotic is blowing apart, a big crack right under the bruised area of my foot. With every step, it buckles and jabs tender, long-suffering foot flesh. I'd duct-taped it up in Vermont, when I'd first noticed a small crack developing, and that had worked well.I forgot about it.Now the crack has grown quite large. I peel all the spare duct tape off my hiking pole - my emergency stash - and make field repairs. Ahhhh, duct tape! My brother would be proud of me. I hope it holds things together. The orthotic only has to hang for one more week or so.Cloudy morning. Or maybe a cloud has just settled on Chairback Gap. Amazing what a damping effect that has on human mood. Everyone I met was giddy yesterday, now they speak in hushed tones, somber. I feel a bit muted myself, as the unique Gulf Hagas is penciled in for today. Sunshine is needed for peak adventure!The first climb of the day is a quick up to Chairback Mountain, where vistas are promised. I can see trees below through the mist; that's the extent of my vista. I also hear the whine of distant saws. The 100 Mile "Wilderness" is being logged?!As the AT winds along some stony ledges, the cloud lifts a bit and the sun tries to burn through. Up goes the mood, right with the weak sun. But it remains cloudy for most of the day. Important observation: I could never live in overcast Seattle. It's humid too. Where has my dry Canadian air gone?Next challenge of the day was a sketchy, downward traverse of a steep, dropping scree field. That treacherous rock scramble passed without incident. I am very aware of my solitary status.Safely down, I was walking on relatively smooth ground when a pebble tipped me over. A pebble! Overladen packs are top-heavy tipsy. I was going down! I hate that.I managed the presence of mind to turn around in the air. Oooof! I landed on my pack and knocked the air out of myself. I smushed my Triscuit crackers, heard them crunch to little wheat fibers. Better than cracking shoulder or forehead, I suppose. I also fell on the heel of my right hand, putting it out to soften the fall. It screams fire. I don't think anything is broken. It's just stunned. This is the same hand with the swollen ring finger. No karate chopping for me today. Ha! An hour later, at the Pleasant River ford, I went to check the time and saw only a pale band of untanned skin. I'd lost my watch, probably in the fall. It was inexpensive, and I didn't go back. What does a lollygagging gal want with a watch anyway? It's a useful tool for gauging pace and distance, but here was an opportunity to experience life without it. Don't need no stink'n watch!After lunch at West Branch of Pleasant River, I forded the water. Yes, Da Shoe actually got her feet wet. Honeymooners Teaberry and Moose River, who I'd caught there, had just crossed. I took my shoes off, the first time of the trip. I'd had dry shoes for so long I was now very protective! The water was cold, and the rounded rocks were very slippery. I was glad I'd double-bagged my water-phobic pocketmail and stuffed it deep in the pack. I teetered a few times but remained in the upright position.I made my way to the Gulf Hagas area with great expectations. This was a side trip, a blue-blazed Trail I'd heard great things about. I was planning to do the entire 5.2 mile loop. It had been billed as "The Grand Canyon of the East," so I was looking forward to some vistas. The Gulf trail started well, with the beautiful Screw Auger falls, and deep, clear pools of water. But this was on a side trail to the side rail. I returned to the Rim Trail. Another side Trail led to another, viewpoint. And so it went. The viewpoints were very nice, but I had envisioned a different scene, based on the descriptions. I thought it might be more like NC's Linville Gorge, also called "The Grand Canyon of the East." I guess I was expecting broad views. Instead, the Rim Trail was a woods track where I couldn't see anything unless I left to take a sidetrail. I'd just walked a lifetime of connecting trail. So, I turned back after a mile or so, returning to the AT. Before I did, I made a second stop at Screw Auger falls. The pools were so clear, almost aqua against the blue slate walls. I hung out there awhile. It was great to feel "timeless."Back on the AT, I met Paul Dodsen, who had just done the Gulf loop as a training exercise for an upcoming Mahoosuc Range trip. He'd read some of my journal, and asked me about my Cho-Pat knee braces, which I showed him. He said he planned to make a donation to Hospice, which delighted me to no end. (If you've been meaning to but just haven't gotten around to it, yes! there's still time to contact Carole White at: cwhite@firsthealth.org- because I know you've been meaning to!)Paul also told me the really compelling part of the Gulf was at the head, deep into the loop. But it wasn't like a grand canyon, really. So, I felt better about backtracking.I shook Paul's hand as we parted and tried not to flinch as the pain shot up my arm. It wasn't Paul - it was my right hand! I looked, and the heel at the base of my thumb had swollen and was starting to bruise. Still, it worked fine, albeit a little stiffly. I have no idea where I will lay my head tonight, and I don't much care. It all seems to work out. It's an endless climb up from the Pleasant river valley. I meet MATC maintainers Elizabeth and John, delightful people. They tell me about the Sidney Tappan campsite on the other side of Gulf Hagas mountain. That must be my spot, I reckon.As I crested the mountain, they instructed, I was to look up - I could then see Katahdin.They also tell me a hurricane is roaring up the coast. Three cruise ships have already bailed to Portland, ME due to high swells. The tourists are happily ashore, hitting L.L. Bean and buying maple syrup and blueberry jam. Will this hurricane rain on my upcoming parade?While chatting with these friendly maintainers, up hikes... Finch! I greet him with pleasure. He tells me all the usual suspects are right behind him - they'd pushed over this rough terrain with heavy foodbags to do in two days what I'd done in three! I didn't envy them a bit.We compared notes about the recent Trail. Finch, too, had marveled at the abundance of pitcher plants at that enchanted bog. We walked up to the shelter together, after sharing some gingersnaps beside a small waterfall. I cooked at the shelter, where the water was a sure thing, and also to leave my cooking smells behind. I'd heard Chief and Dreamwalker were behind Finch, so I ate and waited as long as I could. I wanted to say hello. I finally had to go - it was 5:30 pm and I had 2 more miles of unknown toughness to hike. As I was packing up, in walks Chief. He'd also done those big miles! He is ready to be done and go home. He looked drawn and tired, as did Finch and Dreamwalker. It's been hot today, in addition to tough. That just pulls it out of you, backpacking.It was tempting to just stay and hang with everybody, like always, but I really felt the pull to camp down the Trail. I wanted to tent, and tent in the moonlight, by myself.As I climbed up Gulf Hagas Mountain, I wondered if I'd given myself enough time. It's dark around 7:15 pm now up here. If this was 1 mph Trail, it might be after dark when I stumbled upon the campsite. Alone.But at the top of the mountain, all anxieties vanished. The sunset was kissing the ridges. I looked for Katahdin - I think maybe I've spotted it. Without confirmation, it's hard to know. Or it could just be my imagination. Whatever it is, it's the biggest thing out there.I found the campsite, a generous flat place with a good, cold spring and an adequate branch for a bear bag. There was enough time to set up the tent, unpack, throw up a bear line and walk down to the spring 200 yards below.As I type, I can hear more creatures than usual moving about. That is fine with me as long as they don't walk into my tent. Heard a large, horse-like thrashing earlier that I thought might be a moose, but it moved in another direction. I brought my shoes in so the porcupines don't chew them for the salt. No moon yet, but I know it's up there. As this one is waning, it will be out a bit later. The day's humidity is already condensing on my tent. I wipe with my bandana, then set it in a handy spot for later mopping.Time for lights out.