Date: 2014-07-17
From: Maine 15, Monson mile 114.5

To: Moxie Bald Lean To mile 132.4
Miles today: 18.1
Weather: broken clouds

I really did not do a 18 mile day. When Tim took us back to the trail he let us off at Pleasant Street at the edge of town instead of taking us back to the highway crossing. As a result I skipped or "white blazed" 3.3 miles of trail and only hiked 14.8 miles. The day was sunny but cool and the trail was wet but easy. Until I started screwing it up it was a great day to be back hiking. The Lodge staff had checked and assured us that the two large streams we were scheduled to cross today would be safe to ford. I was still worried about getting my gear wet in the ford. I was wasting good worry energy because before I got to the ford I slipped on the trail and fell into a mud puddle soaking the seat of my pants and my billfold which I had not yet secured in it's plastic bag. The ford was easy. Knee high but little current. I talked with a middle aged lady from Durham, NC with the delightful trail name of Adelante who was wrapping up a 10 year project to hike the whole trail. To amuse myself and to encourage me to stick with the project I started thinking about how to structure a presentation about my hike to a civic club or other audience. The second ford was more demanding. The water was butt cheek high and the current was much stronger, but several young people whom I had met in Monson were there and helped me across safely. I think they had read Nathan's shelter journal entry requesting that other hikers help the old man out. After the second ford the trail became more difficult with long sections where a often muddy stream ran down the middle of the trail. Using care Nathan and I practiced in the wilderness I managed to keep the insides of my boots fairly dry Two miles from the shelter I came to a third stream, Bald Mountain Stream. A SoBo hiker who passed me had talked to a NoBo who told him it could be rock hopped. I was focused on getting to the shelter and setting up camp and started to try a rock hop crossing. I quickly found that I could not cross on the rocks, but in turning around to return to the bank and put on my creek shoes I slipped dumping me and all my gear in the stream. Cursing my stupidity I finished wading across with my boots underwater and crawled on a rock on the opposite bank to strip and start ringing water out of my socks and clothes. Hoping that the protective sacks in my pack had protected my critical gear I sloshed up the final two miles of the stream/trail to the shelter. The lakeside atmosphere was beautiful and Doc and Hangry were already there. He had proven his Issac Walton skills and caught a batch of fish which they cooked for supper. Doc offered me their surplus potato dish saving me the time of having to fix supper. As a result I got amp set up just after dark. Everything critical survived the dunking except my trail guide and iPad. The seal on their protective bag failed and they got wet. The paper will dry out and I will find out tomorrow whether some time in the sun will bring my iPad back to life. While I am writing this entry on my phone a frog hopped out of the lake and is staring at my foot deciding whether to hop on it.