Date: 2003-09-09
From: ME 15, Monson

To: Bodfish Farm Road
Miles today: 14.1

I feel so blessed with dear friends lately. I've gotten yet another box from Louisa and Chandler, my ever faithful friends and paddling buddies. Their continual support, notes, treats and contact has warmed my heart throughout this trip.And a hiking list buddy, TJ, has sent maps of Baxter Park and Katahdin itself. TJ is the ATC overseer from Caratunk to Katahdin, quite a fine beat. This is his "turf" I'll be walking over. He wants me to get it right.The Pie Lady drives me out to the Trailhead so I can walk back to Monson. It's an Indian summer day, sparkling and cloudless. What have I done to deserve this?At one back road Pie Lady stops so I can leap from the car to take a picture - we have a spectacular view of the Barren-Chairback range stretching before us.I have to walk in a mile to the Rail crossing because the road is too rough and washed out. I don't mind this a bit in such weather. The road is cobbled in round stone, and passes bogs and Long stream.I put up a blue heron in a nearby bog. I haven't seen one since North Carolina! The huge, prehistoric-looking bird is close enough to hear his wings beating thru the air. A good omen for the day?The Trail crossing was a little tricky to find, but I followed the "Dead End" sign and, sure enough, there it was. I meet Tater within the first hour. He tells me of rocky trails ahead. He said the rocks moved under his feet, and this AT veteran didn't like that a bit. None of us want to get hurt so close to the end.The Trail southbound back to Monson leads to a beautiful scree field, a rockslide of jumbled, jagged boulders. And in this dry weather, this is just the sort of rock scramble I enjoy.But it quickly turns into a dangerous nightmare! The blazes end at the edge of the rock field; there is no indication of where the Trail picks up on the other side of the jumble. Well, no worry, the guidebook elevation indicates I go up. So up I go.So "up" in fact, that the rocks that I am putting my weight on start tumbling downhill; my footing is giving way! I grab at the rocks above, and they give way too, banging me in the shoulder on the way down. I start to fall, and am clinging to anything - dead wood, other knives of rock, small trees. The gaps between the boulders invite broken legs. I am furious. How hard would it be to paint a few directional blazes! I don't know how to exit the field, despite circling it twice as best as possible, a dangerous, slippery enterprise and a great time waster.There is just no evident trail out of this jumble!I decided to return to the AT the way I came in, to see if perhaps there was a blaze painted on a rock I couldn't see from the angles I had taken. Well, the joke was on me. When I returned, I noticed a slight wearing of the dirt, making a faint track around the very BOTTOM of the scree field. The AT went BELOW the rock jumble. The confusion came because my data book said that the AT crossed the 175-yard scree field. Well, yes, it did - at one end, the lower. A classic case of reading the map, not the territory. The map is NOT the territory, as they say.But my good humor was restored as quickly as it had fled. It is hard to be grumpy on such a terrific day. The southbound Trail led down to a river gorge, where I crossed the Big Wilson by rock-hopping, although there were a couple dicey places I "pole-vaulted" across and luckily managed a solid footplant on the rounded, polished rock.I saw Kiwi and AWOL having lunch on the banks of the river and bade them farewell and all the best. Chances are they will summit before me.The climb out of the river gorge was fantastic, over multiple slate slabs, gorgeous traveling with moss gardens and pine-scented ascents. Since I have house building on the brain, I could envision blue slate floors and stack-stone fireplaces where others no doubt saw slab footpath.I sat and lollygaged a lot. I hiked the sort of hike today that would have driven my hiking partners, every one of them, thoroughly crazy. And rightly so - sitting on a rock in the river journaling or eating or taking pictures or just plain sitting is not the way to make speedy tracks to Katahdin. And yet, I myself enjoyed the day thoroughly. "Tending my yin," as my friend Anna calls it.By the way, when I use the word "Yin" I do not mean female, although female is yin. It's a quality that transcends gender.The fun continued. My fun new hiker friends Ken and Marcia met me atop one rocky blue slab cliff. "Bet it's always like this on the PCT," I tease them. Marcia laughs: "We've been very careful not to tell people that this trip. But, yes!"With astounding presence of mind, Ken does not brush off a bright blue dragonfly that lands on his temple. The creature is huge! Marcia and I exclaim, and I get three shots of it before it flies off. Shortly after, it lands on my arm when I'm not looking, but I startle and it flies off. I clown around. "Do you have a message for us," I call after it. "Speak!"So goes the day, up and down, in and out of river gorges. I pass a fantastic waterfall carved out of a slate gorge. Ken and Marcia had come upon a skinny dipper in the pool at the bottom. Many lakes and ponds sparkle in the day's bountiful sun. Loons call, red squirrels cuss me out.I get to the road where I will hitch home at 5:30! Nearly 10 hours to go a simple 15 miles. It's a tough place to hitch, and I'm solo again. I finger my mace. Two guys in a truck finally give me ride, then hand me a religious tract. Their hearts were in the right place.It has been an astoundingly, thoroughly satisfying day of creative loafing. I wonder if I am truly a thruhiker at heart: I suspect I am more of an ambler, or a rambler.But wait! There is more!I collect my pocketmail at the Guld station phone. I've gotten an e-mail from Lupe. She writes:"Jan! Itchy, Just Do It, Notes, Big E, Drifter, ReCycled, Stormman, made it all together at 9:15 this morning. They are all having supper together in Millinocket. Ben will be driving Itchy home and Big-E might be with them & stay over for the night. Now its your turn, GO,GO,GO,girl and enjoy your solitude. Love Ya, Lupe"So Itchy and Notes finished together, and Ben was right there with them. Too perfect! CONGRATULATIONS FRIENDS! I am so proud and pleased!But there was MORE fun to come. I am walking back to the Pie Lady's, glowing about this news and the energy charge that comes from friends succeeding at their dream. I enter the cabin and Tadpole is there. She says: "Here she is!"Out from behind the refrigerator pops Notes! Notes! My old buddy! I shrieked and hugged him, and we yelled and whooped. I congratulated him on his successful summit today. He told me that Ben (Just Do It), our friend who had badly broken his hand, had climbed to the summit with Itchy. I was just so happy to hear this.Notes said Itchy climbed up to the summit, touched the sign and said, "Well I'm here." Ha! Mr. Understatement. Notes said, "I've been traveling with geezers, and I wanted whooping and cheering! Good thing Ben (Just Do It) let out a yell!"Notes' parents were out front, so we went and hung out in their van. Notes gave me the scoop on the Trail ahead. Pop Notes (Bear Bait) gave me a hug and told me I looked great. Ma Notes gave me a hug too, some maps of Abol campground and some entrance info. His folks snap our photos. Notes told me nights ahead were cold. Did I want any warm clothes? Did I want his 20 degree bag? Did I want a Snickers? That good Notes energy. I did take the Snickers and borrow his wool cap, as my synthetic isn't that warm.I was walking on Cloud Nine at this point, really charged up on all this reunion and summit energy. This calls for celebration. This is not a champagne town. No worries! Thanks to my buddy eArThworm, I have some free coupons for Ben and Jerry's ice cream. Notes chooses pistachio and I get plain old chocolate.We promise to stay in touch, and to exchange photos. Notes has shot and recorded an enormous amount of material. I encourage him to make a project out of it, a calling card. We hug good-bye, and then he is off to Atlanta to find a job.And there is still more! Chief finds me at the payphone again. He has in tow a man with a smile. The man introduces himself as Frogcaller's husband. Frogcaller herself is ahead of me, doing a section of the AT. We chatted a bit, and I told Chief about Itchy and Notes, the judge Recycled who finished on his third thruhike attempt, and the others. Chief tells me Finch and Judy are in town, and they will catch me about White House Landing. We hug and I finally leave to eat supper. It is dark.And now, as I walk toward the phone, I see a big fat old full moon in a star studded sky.Wow! What an utterly fantastic day! I am breathless!Note: This is my last entry until the 18th, when I am scheduled to hitch into Millinocket to meet my friend Trooper. Unless a miracle occurs, there are no pay phones in The 100 Mile Wilderness. Stay tuned and cross your fingers.