Date: 2004-09-10
From: Moxie Bald Lean-to

To: ME 15 (Shaw's Lodging)
Miles today: 17.9

CrossingsMileage Countdown: -114.5After I got to bed last night the rain started to come down in earnest, in a steady downpour that lasted close to midnight. Then it stopped and a wind came up, and by 5 AM everything had dried up enough so that the trees were no longer dripping on the metal roof of the shelter. So I woke up thinking we might have a clear day. (I followed the events of the night because I typically wake up every hour or two to turn over, but sleep deeply in between.)Slowman and I were planning a 6:30 start because today was going to be a long day. But just as we were finishing packing up at 6:25, the skies opened up. Thinking this might be the storm's last hurrah, we decided to wait until 7 to see if it would let up a bit by then. No luck. So we set off into the rain. Fortunately the rain did abate, but it lasted long enough for me to get completely wet.And the trail was wet, too. Everywhere. On slopes, the trail was a running stream. On the flats, water came so high it was impossible to go around, and the rocks and logs that can usually be used as stepping stones were completely submerged. And where there were usually rivulets crossing the trail, now there were full-fledged streams.And then there were the streams themselves. Before setting out I had noticed there were three or four stream crossings (Normally, I keep a copy of the Trail data handy in my pocket, but in wet weather I put it inside my pack so it doesn't fall apart. So I was working from memory.). In addition there were two crossings of the Piscataquis River, West Branch and East Branch. I had been hearing about one of them for days, but couldn't remember which it was.After an hour of wading through puddles and flowing trail, I came to a significant crossing. 'This must be one of the river crossings because there is too much water for a stream', I thought. Immediately I had trouble as I slipped on the first underwater rock and turtled. I got up and was much more careful as I worked my way across. 'Well, at least one river crossings is done, though I didn't expect it so soon', I thought.After walking another hour I took a break and decided to check the Trail data. Sure enough, it was too soon. That crossing had been Bald Pond Brook. West Piscataquis River was still an hour ahead, and there were two more streams before that. Each of the streams presented its own challenge, but I made it across them OK.I began to get a bit disheartened when I heard the roar of West Piscataquis. This was clearly going to be tougher than any of the streams so far. And when I reached its banks ten minutes later I wasn't cheered any. There were two channels to cross, with a small island in between. The first channel was very swift and choppy, and at least over my knees. The second channel was smooth and swift, and at least to my waist.I started across the first channel on a likely-looking course, and before I got three steps into it I could feel the current was about to sweep me off my feet. So I retreated to reconsider my route. Just then Slowman came out of the woods behind me, and I was heartened a bit, and started off on another course. After what seemed like the better part of an hour with my feet barely holding on to the bottom of the river, but in reality less than 5 minutes, I found myself on the island. On considering the second channel, I wondered if my poles would reach the bottom (Slowman later reminded me that I did have the option of lengthening them, but in that moment I never thought of it.). With retreat no better option than going forward, I started across. The current was slightly slower, so my feet felt steadier than in the other channel. But I was worried about what would happen if the water covered my poles or came up to my pack. At last I could feel it getting shallower, and I was on the other side of the river. Then, I spent the next 15 minutes waiting and watching as Slowman, who is a more experienced hiker but older and not as strong as I and is recovering from cancer, crossed in his turn. At last both of us were across, and we began to speculate on what the East Branch would be like, since it showed on the map as a wider river. For four or five miles we followed the West Branch, which was now a roaring torrent that had cut its way through this scenic Horseshoe Canyon. Always with the upcoming crossing at the back of our minds or the tip of our tongues. Suddenly, there was a broad river, swiftly but smoothly flowing, right in front of us. This was the East Branch. It would have been a big challenge for us anytime earlier in our hike, but after the West Branch it almost seemed to be a piece of cake. After crossing that we fairly waltzed along the handful of remaining miles (but very wet ones) until we got to Monson. The shower, laundry, cold beer and dinner at Shaw's Lodging were particularly welcome at the end of this day.Milestone: I have finally reached Monson, the last trail town, which ranks right up there with Erwin, Hampton and Duncannon as hiker-friendly watering holes. I am staying at Shaw's Lodging, which has been host to nearly 40,000 hikers over the last 40 years.