Date: 2007-07-25
From: Hall Mtn Lean-to

To: Sabbath Day Pond Lean-to
Miles today: 21.1
Weather: light rain

Cheeze and I were both up early to-day as we had some rather lengthy mileage planned, over 20 miles to Sabbath Day Pond, with lots of big Maine mountains in between. The first: Moody Mountain. Yes, the name describes it perfectly. Kinda. I got some great views off it though. Next was the notorious Old Blue, which went up and up and up, and made me sweat greatly, but twas worth it upon reaching the paramount. Nice and open. Last but not least was Bemis, and while climbing up it wasn't so bad, going down was very tricky, and I was no less than 5 minutes from the shelter when I fell about 10 feet down the side of cliff, scraping and sliding my entire body against a rock face. You should have heard the pretty words that came out of my mouth-- I didn't know I could be that creative in my vulgarity. Anyway, I was bleeding all over my stupid legs and arms, it was pretty frustrating to encounter difficulties such as these with only about 2 weeks left into the hike.Upon arrival at the Bemis Mountain shelter, I finally met Dogfather and Three Hills "Th'rills" who are a "trail item" after meeting in Hiawassee, I think. I was so happy to meet them, as we had been right on their ass for about a month and hadn't been able to catch up. They are also the first thru-hikers I've really met since Rafiki, but he doesn't really count since he caught up to us. Apparently we passed them at Franconia Notch when they took a few zeros, and then they passed us again when we took a zero and Pinkham with Jeff and Maria.So, now there's more peeps to the posse. Thr'ills gave me some bandages for my cuts, and after a while I set off for Sabbath Day Pond Shelter, which felt like a long 8 miles, but was worth it.I love how about 1/3 of the shelters in Maine are either near or right on ponds. And wherever there are ponds, there are loons. Down south I heard juncos, whip-poor-wills and scarlet tanagers. Now up north I hear gray jays and white throated sparrows (Oh Sam Peabody-peabody-peabody!) But the loons are really what ties together the "Maine experience." I had never seen one before this trip, as they never venture as far south as Long Island; they are mysterious creatures, and seem to exclusively inhabit Maine. I often hear their calls as I'm drifting off into the unavoidable clasp of drowsiness that envelops all thru-hikers at the late hour of 8 o'clock. It is not sleep, for I don't sleep all that much. Rather, it is the state of the body at rest after a hard but rewarding day of hiking. I am always conscious, I think, during the night, but in the morning I am ready and awake-- my mind and body have been rested on the firm but fair planks that make up the shelter floors.Tonight Cheeze and I are joined by several dirty SOBOs, some of whom are quite interesting! One of them is going by the moniker El Presidente because his real name is Reagan Bush, which is, of course, priceless.It seems like we will be hiking with Dogfather and Thr'ills for the unforeseeable future. They would make a good group with which to summit, I think. But I try not to think of the end, and instead just enjoy the present.