Date: 2007-09-08
From: Swift river pond campsite

To: South Arm road
Miles today: 21.6

Oh, how the MATC must be a collection of sadists. At least for the last five miles of my day anyway. The day started out rather nicely with a leisurely stroll up past Sabbath Day Pond lean-to. About 1/4 mile past the shelter there was a sandy beach leading into Long Pond. The wind was blowing something fierce and the water was quite chilly, but I stripped down to my shorts and went in for a dip. The water was bone-numbing, but my feet, and especially my Achilles I had strained, thoroughly enjoyed the soak. I spent about an hour at the pond before pushing on. I would have lingered longer, but I wanted to put in a 20-mile day, and besides, the wind was whipping up and I felt like moving on. It was fairly uneventful hiking past Moxie pond and over Maine 17 down to Burn's Stream. Once again, the ford was just a rock hop. I contemplated getting water because I was low but decided I'd wait until Bemis Mtn. lean-to. That turned out to be a mistake. After a sheer vertical climb up the first of two Bemis Mtn. peaks, I rolled into the shelter quite parched only to find that there was no water at the site. There was actually a puddle where the water should have been, but it looked stagnant and was full of pine needles and other debris. A few nobos told me there was a spring about three miles south on the A.T. that they used. I wasn't too pleased with having to push three more miles but there wasn't much I could do about it so I grabbed my pack and hit the trail. The 1.5 mile climb up the main peak of the Bemis range wasn't too bad, but I was definitely feeling dehydrated by the time I reached the spring. To top things off, the chafe was starting to flare up and I was in a foul mood when I reached the water. I sat down and guzzled some water, ate too much food and hit the trail again. My dehydrated body wasn't digesting the food too well and I pretty much felt like shit as the trail dropped and then climbed Old Blue Mountain. Much to my delight, when I reached the summit, I could see a rainstorm move in and I was treated to a light rain as I started descending Old Blue. Just what I needed, I thought, nice slick rocks to make a 1000-foot descent. After that first mile the trail leveled off. As I continued on a fairly decent grade, in the back of my mind I knew the trail needed to lose another 1200 feet of elevation. To my sheer enjoyment, the MATC decided to save that drop for the last half-mile. I think I would have been better off with a damn rope to just rappel off the fucking mountain. As I was descending I decided that when I hit the road I would try hitching for 30 minutes and then set up my tent and camp by the road. The rain had stopped by then, but I really felt like heading into town.I waited maybe 15 minutes by the road before a car came along. It was a van and it stopped and the woman driving offered me a ride. I was shortly at Pine Ellis hostel stripping my dirty clothes and watching Penn State absolutely dismantle Notre Dame. After a shower and some laundry, I was feeling quite well again. A bunch of nobos rolled in soon after. Eventually we all just chilled on the porch. Trail Poo, one of the nobos, had a platypus full of bourbon and proceeded to pass it around. David, the Guatemalan Mayan Indian who helped run the place, was smoking a cigar and telling stories. He also read all of our palms. Apparently, I'm going to live quite a long time and have just two significant women in my life who will eventually fight over me. Weee