Date: 2021-09-08
From: Abol Bridge Campground

To: Katahdin
Miles today: 15.0
Weather: few clouds

0 miles to KatahdinWoke up around 2:15, well before my alarm was set. Why am I getting up so early? Katahdin is in Baxter State Park, which has restrictive rules about camping within its boundaries. I could either book a campsite within the park (which are usually booked weeks or months in advance), sign up for a spot at the one shelter the Park has set aside for thru-hikers (which only has room for 12, fills quickly, and would require me to be in close proximity to 11 other hikers who were almost certainly exposed to COVID last week), or camp outside the park, requiring 10 miles of hiking before I even start climbing Katahdin. I chose the third option. To reach the base of Katahdin around seven would require me leaving camp around 3 am.I packed up my things in the tent then climbed out. First thing I see is a bright star in the west; Vega, of course. The sky is so clear and it is so dark here that the stars are reflected in the river in front of my tent. Katahdin is visible only has a starless hole in the sky to the north. I finish packing up and head out to the road.It¢s earlier than I had planned on setting out, so I spend a few minutes on the bridge over the river. The entire night sky is visible, the Milky Way clearly arcing across the sky. Orion is rising in the east, it¢s Nebula a fuzzy spot. Several meteors shoot overhead. Absolutely perfect time for stargazing.3 a.m. Time to head north, for the last time. A quarter mile on the road, then the trail goes into the woods, where I shortly enter Baxter State Park. It is absolutely quiet and my headlamp, on low, illuminates just a few feet in front of me. The trail is flat and free of obstacles and I make good time.After an hour and a half, I pass Big and Little Niagara Falls, which I can hear but not see. The trail is a little rougher now, with more rocks and a slight incline, but I still make good time.By 6 I am at Daicey Pond, more than 8 miles from where I started. I stop at a picnic table on the shore and eat breakfast. Directly across the pond is Katahdin, backlit by the dawn, it¢s crown wreathed in clouds. It is completely quiet except for the lapping of water on the pond¢s edge and the distant cry of a loon.An easy mile and a half to Katahdin Stream Campground which is bustling with campers waking up, preparing to spend the day in the park, some of them climbing Katahdin. I meet a ranger who signs me in and gives me a hiking permit. They have day packs at the ranger station (who wants to climb Katahdin with a full pack?) but I opt to use the day pack to store the things I don¢t need for the hike and take my backpack up with me.7:20 a.m., 5.2 miles, with 4200 feet of elevation gain, to go!The first mile is easy going, with a gradual climb. My pack is super light and I almost bounce as I walk. There is a bridge over Katahdin Stream and then the trail gets steeper.2 miles in, the trail is rougher. The rocks become boulders. More and more often hands are needed to pull myself up. Still not much different than almost any mountain in northern New England.Then the trail reaches tree line, and everything changes. It¢s suddenly windy up here and I have to put on my wind breaker. The trail climbs Hunt spur, jutting out from the mountain like the prow of an inverted ship. This three quarter mile section takes almost as long to traverse as the rest of the 5 mile climb. I believe this is as difficult a trail can be without requiring technical climbing skills.Just after climbing above the trees, I clamber up the trail to a shelf, where the trail seems to end at a cliff wall. About seven feet up, there is an iron bar at the top of the cliff. I had to hoist myself up using that bar, with my feet finding holds in a crack in the wall below the bar, then awkwardly flop on to the top of the cliff.There were a number of these jungle gym obstacles as I climbed up the spur. Sometimes there were iron hand holds in rocks, sometimes I had to hold on to a crack in a rock with one hand while repositioning my feet. Many times all I could see of the mountain was the series of rocks right in front of me, with nothing but sky on the left and the right. This is not a good place for someone with a fear of heights. I kept thinking of Harold Ramis¢s lin in Ghostbusters, ¢I¢m sorry Venkman; I'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.¢Luckily there were other people climbing, helping each other out. Sometimes just encouraging words, sometimes a hand to hoist someone up, sometimes pushing someone¢s backside to help them over a difficult climb.I hit my shins and knees several times, and there where several blood spots on my pants once I reached the top of this difficult section. At the top of the spur, the trail reaches the Tablelands, a fairly flat area on the shoulder of the mountain. The summit is covered in clouds, and the views from up here are amazing. I can hundreds of lakes and ponds amongst the trees to the south, like many many mirrors on green velvet. I can even see last night¢s campground from up here, and where my tent was.Now a mile on this plateau, the trail slowly climbing. It gets steadily windier and eventually I climb into the clouds, my jacket flapping in the wind. I stop for a quick snack and push on.Now half a mile from the end and the trail starts climbing steeply up Baxter Peak. The wind picks up to gale force, burning my bare hands (I really wish I had had gloves) and is so loud I have to shout to be heard by descending hikers.Than I see the sign materialize through the clouds in front of me. The sign that marks the end of the 2193.1 mile trail, the end of 5 months of walking and 28 years of dreaming. For a couple minutes I am actually alone on the summit, just a patch of rocky land with a sign and a 13 foot cairn in an endless sea of clouds. Then a couple of hikers show up; we take each others¢ pictures and I start back down.The climb back down is incredibly hard on my knees, which have taken quite the beating through New Hampshire and Maine. The rough spots on the trail are easier going down than going up though. Areas where I had to pull myself up with my hands I can now scoot down on my butt. I take it very slow on the way down, I don¢t want to spend the evening celebrating in a hospital with broken bones. It takes three and a half hours, the same time it took to climb, to reach the base of the mountain.My original plan had been to get a shuttle to the nearby town of Millinocket, spend the night, take another shuttle to the town of Medway, take a bus from there to Bangor, and from there take Greyhound and Amtrak home. A fellow thru-hiker, Wanderer, was kind enough to offer a ride on his shuttle directly to Bangor. We split the cost of the ride and a couple of hours later found ourselves at a motel outside of Bangor Airport.Dinner was at a Ground Round next door. All you can eat ribs and a dessert sampler left me happily beyond full. By 8 o¢clock we were falling asleep in our room at the motel. I found it crazy to think that just 24 hours ago I was at a campsite in northern Maine, with that final climb still in front of me.Happiness is, well right now, everything is happiness.