Date: 2020-10-12
From: Katahdin Stream Campground

To: Baxter Peak
Miles today: 5.2
Weather: moderate rain

After two strikes due to weather, today was my third shot at summiting Katahdin. Whether I made it or not today, my family would have to drive home due to another commitment. The weather didn't look likely to improve this week thanks to the remnants of Hurricane Delta, so I could be stuck for awhile. It's been a bad week on Katahdin. Last Sunday a boy was helicoptered out due to a medical emergency. Then Thursday a body was found on Katahdin's Baxter Peak near the sign. A hiker had climbed up overnight with insufficient gear for the single digit temperature and high winds and literally froze. A group of thruhikers had tried to summit on Thursday but turned back just a half mile from the summit when the body was found. In a separate incident a man and his grown nephew got lost in fog on the Knife Edge. The man fell 50 feet, and died after being transported out the following morning.It didn't look promising around 5 am when I woke to find frozen condensation on the inside of the tent. Outside, the water bottles were frozen. If it's freezing down here, how much ice is up there?We took our time getting ready. Let the sun melt what it could before we got there. Around 6:30 two hikers walked quickly through the Birches camp from the Blueberry Ledges Trail I'd come up two days ago. I figured they had stealth camped to avoid the rangers.Wild and Spurs were the first ones out, then Colonel Clothesline, Sunset and Brightside. Water Queen, 5-Oh!, and I headed out, leaving Muck finishing a large breakfast of oranges and snacks my dad had left last night. We dropped some of our gear at the ranger station to lighten the packs. Only Wild carried all his gear, on principle. I kept all my clothes (for warmth), quilt (to bulk up the pack), snacks, water, first aid, headlamp, spare battery, and trekking poles. The tent, sleeping pad, and extra food stayed behind.The forecast posted at the ranger station (keep in mind there's no cell service in Baxter) was only marginally better than yesterday: high of 34, wind chill of 16, clear skies. If there was ice up there, it was hard to imagine it melting this morning. However, we could see that the peak was already in the clear and didn't appear to have much snow or ice. We would have to climb to find out for sure. Expecting a frigid summit, I'd put on every layer I own: T-shirt, long-sleeved fleece, puffy, windjacket, long johns, pants, hat, buff, gloves, and even glove liners. Even so, my fingers felt numb from the time I got up until two miles into the hike. In the campground parking lot a group of thruhikers I'd never seen were milling around a car preparing to climb: Caveman, Hippie, Noah, Tags (all guys), Faith, Hanna, and Peach (girls). Peach (AT '18) wasn't thruhiking but supporting this group with her car. She hoped to summit just for fun. Several of them had stayed in the campground with a reservation last night. Hippie and Caveman had been dropped off at Abol Bridge early this morning and hiked 4.5 miles here. Peach and Tags had driven to the entrance gate at 5 am and waited for a parking pass, which despite all warnings had been easy to get at 7 am. Most of this group had been among those who turned back on Thursday due to snow, ice, and the frozen hiker. Only a handful, including Walmart, Shark Boi and Lava Girl, had made it. This group has been waiting out the weather in Millinocket, with a short excursion to Acadia.We started up at quarter of 8. The climb began easily enough through spruce forest with minimal rocks and moderate grade, across a bridge over Katahdin Stream. A mile and a half in the climb steepened, with rock staircases yielding to boulder scrambles with trees for handholds. Some of the scrambles were difficult enough that hikers had worn alternate routes around.Once above treeline the view opened up to a panoramic landscape of yellow birch forests enclosing countless lakes and ponds dotted by small islands. The horizon swelled with distant blue mountains to the south and west, while impressive vertical cliffs and rockslides loomed on the nearby Brothers and Cox mountains. The boulder scramble turned into a seemingly-vertical version of Mahoosuc Notch. Car- and bus-sized boulders make up the Spur along the steep spiny ridge to the summit. The diciest spots have metal rods driven into the rock to prevent you sliding off the mountain. Many spots were multiple choice, with the blazes being suggestions but not necessarily the easiest or safest path. Though the trail seemed insanely steep, the drop-off on either side was far steeper. This was the most difficult but most exhilarating section, perhaps of the entire trail. Yet tens of thousands of hikers of all ages and experience levels make it through each year. It's amazing there aren't more rescues.There was a small bit of ice below tree line, especially where a spring ran down the trail, and I slipped once or twice, proving what I feared, that Altras are useless on ice. I would never have made it yesterday with all that ice. Above tree line it was dry thanks to no water source and a day of sun yesterday. Only once I reached the Tableland did I see any more ice or rime. The weather turned out to be not only better than expected, but nearly perfect. There was no wind. At all. Complete silence when I stopped to listen. The sun was on me the whole time above treeline and I quickly stripped off my puffy, windjacket, hat, gloves, buff and even my fleece, continuing in just a T-shirt and remaining quite comfortable until late in the day. I regretted having left my long johns on under my pants. Today was a shorts kind of day. I started up with 5-Oh! and Water Queen, but 5-Oh! soon disappeared as Hippie passed and he pushed to keep pace. After laughing at my suggestion it would take 3.5 hours to summit as far too aggressive, he ended taking only 2.5 hours and was one of the first thruhikers at the summit. Water Queen urged me to hike ahead, telling me she would be taking it nice and easy. I was in no rush, and I didn't want to leave her alone to face the boulders, but she got this far on her own and didn't need a babysitter. I headed up, catching up with Peach. She turned out to be a fellow Philly suburbanite, from the Main Line not far from me. She'd been laid off from her bartender job due to Governor Wolf shutting down businesses and decided to get out and hike a bit and help fellow hikers. Caveman and the others were not far behind.On the Spur I caught Wild and Spurs. Wild was filming copiously for the final chapter of his YouTube series. Spurs was trucking ahead, belying his normally easy pace. We hiked up to the Gateway together, and across the Tableland, spattered with frost, frozen puddles, and ice rime on the krumholtz. Muck passed, the last one to start but still one of the first to summit. He can lay on the speed when he wants. "Time to go to the whip!" he told me once, like he was a race horse. He still has a thousand miles or so to finish the northbound half of his yo-yo hike. Spurs has a few hundred miles south of Damascus to finish. Spurs and I approached Baxter Peak over a rocky landscape with only the hardiest of low-lying alpine plants, reminiscent of Mt. Washington. We could see people on the ridge above. If not for them we would have thought the summit was a mile further - the perspective makes East Peak look higher than Baxter. I'd been thinking about this moment for days. I didn't let myself dwell on it earlier than that, it was too far off and I wanted to focus on where I was, not where I'd be. Now here I was, and my emotions were far from clear. I didn't feel pride or joy at walking 2200 miles. Right now this felt like a dayhike. The magnitude of what I'd done simply hadn't sunk in. I felt a twinge of sadness knowing, in my head if not yet my heart, that my time out here was over. I was strong, I was prepared, I was good at this. I'd come through dark moments and made it all the way - what could stop me now? But that regret was more than offset knowing I would soon see my family, and that my "job" of hiking was nearly done. With winter approaching it made leaving more palatable. I'd have plenty of time for reflection once I got home. Today - now - it was time to enjoy the moment. Spurs walked up to the sign marking the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. I followed at a distance, walking slowly until I could place my hand on the weathered wood and barely legible lettering. It was dry and warm. The Long Cruise was over.I spent two hours on the summit. It felt like a summer day. I could have stayed there forever, a moment frozen in time. Thruhikers kept coming. Each of us got our pictures. The solemn, the joyful, the triumphant, the silly. Eighteen thruhikers in all, including the handful with flips still to flop. Jinx, the kid I'd found at the Abol Bridge campstore Friday waiting for his tramily, eventually appeared. He'd managed to summit with his tramily after all - Hippie, Faith, Peach, and the rest - though Walmart, his oldest friend, had already finished on that unfortunate Thursday. Water Queen was one of the last to arrive, shortly after noon. She had many friends here. I walked down to shout encouragement and escort her up. When I turned to follow her I saw the hikers had formed a honor guard in two lines with their arms raised to form a tunnel for her to walk through, the Katahdin sign at the far end. She was the only one to have that honor bestowed. A number of dayhikers came and went, including a couple of large groups. A mom and her two sons, one of them about eight years old, came up the Saddle Trail from Chimney Pond, seven miles one way. There are no easy ways up Katahdin. Several headed over the Knife Edge, a perfect day for this exposed but stunning route. I hiked it last year, but today I needed no more excitement. Hikers began drifting away, many headed down the alternate Abol Trail. 5-Oh!, Water Queen and I headed back down Hunt trail, the AT. If we'd hit this descent at any other point it probably would have been downright frightening. But having just climbed it, and having great weather, we laughed at the difficulty, the steepness, the sheer insanity of it. We'd just thruhiked the Appalachian Trail, what was another rock scramble?I must have gotten a little cocky. I wasn't in a rush, but I let my shoelace catch on a root below treeline. I was several feet above where my next step would have gone. I couldn't get my leg in front of me. I was going doooowwn! Whether luck or experience or a bit of both, I managed to slow the fall. I couldn't stop my body but my muscles tensed and I was able to get my arms in front as I gradually toppled toward the rocks below. My hands hit first and my arms absorbed the momentum, bringing my head to an awkward stop, inches from the rocks. Well, that was close! 5-Oh looked worried, unable to help me in time and watching my slow-motion disaster unfold. I'd spent weeks reminding myself that any bad step could be my last. Don't be the guy that ends his hike climbing Katahdin! But descending it after a successful finish? Fortunately I wouldn't be making any ironic headlines today. I was unhurt, just shaken. No thanks to the ridiculously long laces on these Altras.Nearing the campground I passed Peach walking down with Tags. He'd hurt his eye somehow and needed her guiding hand. Back at the ranger station Muck was relaxing in the shade. He was talking to Cowboy, who'd just walked in. I'd met him in the first few miles of the 100 Mile Wilderness when I was slackpacking. This was his tenth day since leaving Monson and he was nearly out of food. We offered him all that we had. I took his trash, and even gave him my unused pair of crampons, in case tomorrow's weather was less favorable. Another thruhiker named Guardian was tenting in the campground. He'd flipped up from Virginia, having only started in July and taken time off. This odd year continues, with hikers departing Maine even in October with months of travel still ahead of them. Mike from Shaw's appeared to pick up Muck, Spurs, and several others. We found my father and brother waiting for us and drove the eight bumpy miles out of the park - the third time in three days for me - and another eighteen to Millinocket for some post-summit calories at Dunkin Donuts. We shuttled Water Queen and 5-Oh! to a Holiday Inn in Bangor an hour south, where tomorrow they'll rent a car and take Water Queen to Hanover. She'll hike south from there to her Katahdin at a road crossing in Maryland. 5-Oh! is headed home to South Carolina. Being a cop, most recently a training instructor, he took his name from the slang "5-0" for police. The "Oh!" came from a hiker's exclamation when offering him weed and then learning he was a cop. He is very humble and funny, and a genuinely nice guy. Despite knowing Water Queen since early July, I only learned her full story today. She started in Georgia in March with her daughter, who had asked her mom to join her on a thruhike. They got off in Georgia when the ATC started pushing hikers to go home. Her daughter decided not to come back, but Water Queen got back on trail on her own. She hiked from Georgia to Maryland before jumping to Hanover. She knew some of the folks we summited with today from the early days in Georgia. And her name comes from sitting in streams to cool off. Good luck to her in finishing her hike!My father, brother, and I headed down to Portland for the night and for a seafood dinner. Unfortunately Andy's Old Port Pub was fresh out of lobster (really? in Maine?), but we enjoyed ourselves anyway. The next day we made it home to Pennsylvania after over ten hours of driving. I can't thank my brother Chris and my dad enough for coming to Maine to get me, and for cooling their heels an extra day so I could climb Katahdin. I am a lucky guy to have a family like this.I was pretty wiped out by the end of the day and the thoughts were still swirling around. Once they settle I hope to have a few final observations on my thruhike, and how it has affected me.