Date: 2010-09-08
From: Chairback Gap Lean-to

To: Logan Brook Lean-to
Miles today: 17.1
Weather: overcast clouds

08 September Wednesday ¢ 17.1 miles to Logan Brook Lean-toYep, it rained. It rained so hard I expected my caving tent would collapse at any moment. The grape sized rain drops were causing my tent to sag and I had to do something. I had to do something quick but what? I already tried getting the tent taunt by pulling at the stakes in the ground. The walls of my damp tent were getting dangerously close to my warm comfy feather bed with every passing second. The first thing I had to do was pee. Of course, I have to pee at this moment. My bladder felt like it would burst long before the tent would fall to the ground. I crawled into the torrential rainstorm and surveyed the scene from outside of my tent. It was so pitch black outside that I could hardly even make out the silver silhouette of the sil-nylon tarp-tent. I rapidly forced the liquid from my bladder by flexing my abdominal walls but seemed to take longer in the pelting rain! I had performance anxiety. My only dry clothes where getting wet and I wondered if it would have been better just to pee on myself in the tent. Maybe, maybe not! I was afraid I¢d finish demolishing my tent as I struggled to get back under the half assed rain shelter. I tried not to touch the soaked walls of my tent and got back inside. When I got in, my first thought was to pack my sleeping bag in its water proof stuff sack. Remember now, that my only source of light is malfunctioned. I turned on the light with a prayer to the Energizer headlamp gods, please work! After a few false starts it finally emitted an eerie red light. The red light illuminated the tent just enough to see that this circus of an experience was about to come crashing down at any moment. I fumbled around to find my waterproof stuff sack. When I finally found the stuff sack, I began forcing my already wet sleeping bag into its safe bosom. Then I grabbed my tent pole to lift it off of my backpack to retrieve more clothing. Then like all great discoveries I realized the error of my ways. When I lifted my tent pole¢¦my tarp-tent instantly became tight, taut, rigid and all those wonderful rain resistance descriptive terms. Accidentally picking up the center support of my tent led to my discovery of why I couldn¢t pitch this tent properly. In my search for soft and loamy tent sites, I¢d forgotten that flat ground is best for riding out rainstorms. Duh! I have to compensate for my tent pole when I sleep in a low area. The reason why I couldn¢t get my tarp tight enough was because the pole wasn¢t high enough. My heart played an irregular song of palpitations as I realized with deep relief that I¢d outsmarted my nemesis, hypothermia. Well, I¢m not sure if I outsmarted anything other than dumb luck. It¢s dark and cold and I¢m a long ways from home or shelter. I flopped over on my back with a satisfied smile and stared straight up at my tent ceiling. My nice rain repelling tent shelter! I¢m lying on my back and keeping upward pressure on the fabric with my hand above my head. ¢Problem solved!¢ I think to myself. I begin laughing as I lay in a puddle of icy cold water. Silly rabbit, you should have this figured out by now. I placed a nearby rock under my tent pole and unpacked my warm sleeping bag. I nodded off to the pleasant sound of water rolling off my tent and not my face!I had breakfast this morning with Klarity, Not Bad, Rock¢n¢Roll, Cowgirl, Tree and Hot Foot. We all sat inside Chairback shelter and talked about the rainstorm last night. Everyone stayed dry and I didn¢t tell anyone about my amateur fiasco last night. Rock¢n¢Roll and Cowgirl slept next to the shelter last night in their tent. They awoke in a large puddle of run off water. At 3am in the morning one of the section hikers inside the shelter made enough noise to wake up Rock¢n¢Roll. They were 5 feet from the outside wall of the shelter and the section hikers were making enough racket to keep him up. Rock¢n¢Roll said that they were talking loudly and packing up their gear like it was 8am, ¢Shut the %$&% up¢ shouted Rock¢n¢Roll and the talking stopped. At 3am, he¢s not an ambassador of good will towards others. I would later discover the reason for the noise. The section hikers had been attacked by several mice in the middle of the night, which made me thankful that I wasn¢t in the shelter after all.I didn¢t realize that I would be passing the Gulf Hagas trail today. In my earlier plans for this thru-hike I wanted to include this loop trail of beautiful waterfalls and scenic landscapes. I had to make a choice between staying with my friends or taking this side trip. I decided during breakfast that I would grace Tree and Hot Foot with my presence a little longer. They were as thankful as you¢d imagine. It¢s foggy today and visibility is a mere 10 feet. I don¢t think views of the rocks and roots right in front of me will be worth the extra effort to see Gulf Hagas.Hot Foot is stressed out over his food supply. His food supply consists of Little Debbie Cosmic cakes and pies. He has a few Lipton sides, candy and a few bagels but he¢s worried that he won¢t have enough. I think he¢s feeling low on energy because of the crap he¢s eating. I wonder why Tree and Hot Foot chose such an aggressive schedule at the very end. They should be enjoying this, but instead they¢re bitching about their supply of junk food. They¢re hiking 20 mile days on Little Debbie¢s supply of high fructose corn syrup. My friends are ready to finish and they¢re taking it out on their food. Cowgirl is also complaining about a shortage of food. It¢s hilarious that Cowgirl is running out of supplies because of how she treated Rock¢n¢Rolls choices in Monson. She berated Rock¢n¢Rolls and made a scene by sorting through his giant food bag. She went through Rock¢n¢Rolls bag like she was his mother. Now the critic is almost out of food and the criticized (Rock¢n¢Roll) is shoveling his abundant supply of food into his smiling mouth. Cowgirl might be the first to run out of food. I¢m not concerned about my food bag. I planned to get supplies while in Millinocket during the Trails End Festival!The question on my mind is: Should I give food to my semi-starving friends? I¢m being picked up at Joe Mary Road. They must continue without food. I¢m s-u-p-p-o-s-e-d to be picked up at Joe Mary Rd. that is. I brought enough food to struggle to Abol Bridge in the unfortunate event that my rescuers forgot our scheduled rendezvous. Actually, the only thing holding my rescuers to my evacuation of the 100 Mile Wilderness, is my pencil scribbled name on a refrigerator sign up sheet at Shaw¢s in Monson. You could imagine my concern. Should I give in to charitableness? I may become a forgotten martyr. I mean my name is Skippy. I love my friends but me and Skippy peanut butter go way back!The whole gang blew past SuperMax and ¢Roots¢ early this morning. ¢Roots¢ is SuperMax¢s older girlfriend. ¢Roots¢ is finding the 100 Mile Wilderness to be rightfully challenging. I¢ve realized that this ¢Easy Wilderness¢ is a perfectly executed punch line to a few old veteran jokes on us newcomers. All the discussions about how easy the last 100 miles would be are nothing short of a crock of excrement. This ¢Easy Wilderness¢ is nothing of the sort. This place is hard and the last 25 miles have been nothing short of a surprise! A pleasant surprise none the less.I wonder how Seeker and ¢The Judge¢ are doing. Poor ¢Judge¢ thought this place would be easy. Wrong!We pass the older overweight section hiker who refused us shelter last night. I can¢t help but resent him a little. The gringos seem scared stiff as we passed them on the slippery slopes of Chairback Mountain. I feel fearless of dangerous downhill passes now. We¢re battle hardened and we lean into the cliff with little or no thought of the subject. Being around people who are so careful and cautious make me realize the threat of injury. I have to block out the possibility of falling and trust in my feet. My tired feet and toes land in perfect rhythm right where they belong. We¢ve developed a trust in our senses that tourists never learn. My shoes grip into the greasy rocks and roots the way I intend and I feel at ease like a mountain goat.I¢m surprised at the sight of a busy dirt gravel road crossing. I¢m even more shocked at the sight of Dawn from Shaw¢s standing beside her mini-van. Chopsticks had told me that there were several points of extraction within the 100 Mile Wilderness, but I didn¢t think the roads would be frequented at all. I couldn¢t help but notice the brown box lying on the ground beside Dawn¢s van. Trail magic?! Tree and I practically ran towards the road crossing with dreams of Pepsi¢s and crackers running through our heads. Sure enough, Dawn was there to make our day a little brighter!With my cold Pepsi in hand I realize that Hot Foot is nowhere in sight. It occurs to me that he probably needs the calories worse than me. I look around Dawn¢s cardboard box but I don¢t see anymore cold sodas. I make the decision to drink only half of my soda and give the rest to Hot Foot when he arrives.When Hot Foot arrives, Dawn miraculously removes another Coke from the box like it just magically appeared. Weird, I didn¢t think there were anymore. I immediately pointed out to Hot Foot that I had waited to finish my drink in the event that there weren¢t enough for him. I told Hot Foot what a selfless sacrifice I was willing to make for a friend. Hot Foot eyeballs me like I was up to something. I tell Hot Foot that since I was such a great friend¢¦he should give me the unopened Coke for my half full can of Pepsi. This would be an honor to my willingness to equally share my trail magic with him. Hot Foot isn¢t amused, but Dawn thought it was funny as she laughs at my lame attempt at an uneven hustle.Dawn came from Monson to deliver food to the section hikers who left us out in the rain last night. Dawn charges $100 to deliver their supplies a mere 23 miles into the 100 Mile Wilderness. This is a brilliant business opportunity for people who don¢t know any better. While drinking our cold sodas, we counted 7 vehicles rocketing down the dusty gravel path know as, Gulf Hagas Rd. The amount of traffic in the most remote section of the AT isn¢t something I was prepared for. I jokingly stuck out my thumb at the passing vehicles, much to the chagrin of the recently re-supplied section hikers. I was half serious about going into town. I was even more tempted to return to Monson when Dawn didn¢t recognize or recall my plans to be picked up at Joe Mary Rd. She didn¢t have any idea what I was talking about when I reminded her of my reliance our rendezvous. After Dawn flatly denied the existence of our plan, I stressed to her the importance of my situation. ¢Dawn, don¢t forget. I¢ll starve if you don¢t¢ I pleaded with her as she drove away on Gulf Hagas Rd in her minivan.Some 100 Mile Wilderness, huh?We crossed the side trail to the legendary Gulf Hagas loop. It¢s an extra 6 ¢ 7 miles but well worth the effort as reported by several over achievers. Mostly I gave up the Gulf Hagas loop trail because of laziness. The rest was because I enjoyed my friends company. Another reason was because of the current rainy conditions, but most of the excuses involved my general lack of discipline.Across the Pleasant River we could see another cardboard box waiting on the shore. Could it be trail magic? The only thing standing between me and another soda was a river ford. It¢s a rare thing to experience sequential trail magic. To honor this occasion I mustered a surprising amount of motivation to walk through rushing knee deep icy water. We passed a struggling section hiker as he limped across the river using his hiking poles as a tripod for stability. I even employed the aid of a tree branch to assist with my fording efforts. A box of Lime sodas and cheap crackers were our noble rewards for cold wet shoes and shivering legs. I point out the impressive timeliness of this seemingly holy intervention for my hungry weary friends. They acknowledged my observation with grunts, slurps of soda and spurts of cracker dust onto their scraggly beards.We arrived at Newhall Lean-to just before another freezing cold downpour of rain struck. I lay in the shelter with a smile while listening to the rattling sheet metal keeping us dry. I love it when that happens! Today is going to be a beautiful day! I¢m feeling lucky and so happy and fortunate! Pony is here at the lean-to and we¢re both happy to see one another. He¢s surprised to see me again because we had already said our goodbyes. I told him about my evacuation route as we listened to the rain, not falling on our heads for once. Fig is also sharing the comforts of dryness with us. I¢m still feeling sour towards him from our encounter last night. Fig can be difficult to get along with.¢I give Rooots ah fifty pahcent chance of making it¢ said Fig with condescension.Fig is lonely now that SuperMax is no longer hiking with him. They¢ve been a hiking pair for as long as Waynesboro. This is the first time that SuperMax hasn¢t hiked with Fig since New Jersey. I believe SuperMax is unsure of herself and being with around Fig helps her feel more secure. Fig is quick to offer advice and loves to feel knowledgeable on all subjects of thru-hikerdom.Fig is expecting SuperMax¢s girlfriend to abandon the trail at White House Landing. I jokingly comment that Fig is a Hiker-forecaster. We all try to ignore him from the comforts of the warm lean-to. His voice echo¢s loudly beneath the tin roof of the shelter. I¢m warm, thankful and zoning out to the sound of metallic drumbeats on the roof. I feel sorry for Rock¢n¢Roll who isn¢t here with us in the shelter. I leaned against the back wall of the shelter and stare into its dark corner until it was time to leave. We couldn¢t wait any longer for Rock¢n¢Roll. Tree and I both are fed up with arriving at camp in the dark. Hot Foot groans with disappointment as we left. It¢s no longer raining and we¢ve got to take advantage of the weather today.¢If you¢re going to hike big miles, you got to do big miles¢ I say to Tree and Hot Foot.As obvious as that sounds, it¢s difficult to remember. You can¢t take long breaks and make any progress. Time is changing. Daylight is fading away by 6:30pm now. You¢ve got to make that observation at some point if you¢re trying to cover a lot of ground. This place isn¢t as easy as people expected and they¢ve got to adjust. I¢m just hanging out with them, but I know that sleeping until 8:30am and leaving at 9:30am isn¢t going to get you very far unless you cover ground in the dark. You can¢t take three 1 hour breaks and walk 20 miles in this terrain. Everyone thought this would be easy as pie, but so far it¢s everything but easy. I don¢t care about the same schedule, but I still find myself pushing Tree and Hot Foot from behind. I never pass them, but I stay close in their footsteps to encourage a quicker pace.I have to take a dump. Hot Foot is behind me at this point and I¢m wary of being discovered hunched over in mid-poop. I walk several hundred yards off the trail through soaking wet moss, lichen and sharp ridged pointy pine branches. These Maine pine trees are pushy and they don¢t take anyone¢s crap. You have to fight to bushwhack your way through this place. The resilient branches slap me in the face, scrap my legs and push me off balance and it¢s that much harder to wait for a good hiding spot to poop. I¢m knee deep in moss, shivering and soaking wet by the time I get out of sight. Hot Foot doesn¢t see me as he passes by. I was already cleaning up anyways so it wouldn¢t have mattered if he¢d spotted me.Refreshed from the lightened load and my icy cold wet shoes, I caught up with Hot Foot before he summited Gulf Hagas Mountain. I get on his heels because he¢s obviously low on energy and dragging ass. Hot Foot is hitting the wall and he¢s exhausted. When he offers to let me pass, I tell him I¢d rather stay behind. I try innocuously encouraging him but he¢s stubborn and unwilling to relent on his miserable state of mind. He gets halfway up West Peak before he¢s had enough of me and lets me pass. Despite Hot Foots dwindling food supplies he¢s not properly rationing his meals and his munchies are getting the best of him. He put a hole in his food bag yesterday and now he¢s paying the price. I waved goodbye to my friend and pushed as hard as ever to catch Tree on top of White Cap Mountain.On and on and on I climb! Today isn¢t as difficult as the Barren Ledges of yesterday. Holy crap those mountains whipped my lazy bones. Today is cooler and the moist air makes it easy to breath. My lungs are properly lubricated in this misty haze and I can trog up these stair steps like I¢m watching a Kathy Lee Gifford workout DVD. I¢m not even thirsty in this foggy air and wind. My lips are moist and my throat isn¢t parched like it was in the roaring winds of the White Mountains. I¢m happy to see these trees getting shorter as I climb though. My footprint tracking suggests I¢m close to catching Tree and he¢s somewhere around the next corner.On top of White Cap Mountain I was robbed of my view of Katahdin. I didn¢t expect to see anything in this white wall of fog surrounding me today. Tree is already on the wind whipping summit in his rain jacket. He gives me a high five while he¢s talking with his parents on his cell phone. This is the last suspected location for cell phone reception and Tree is coordinating a Katahdin reunion with his parents. I over heard his conversation with his parents who want meet him on top of Mount K on the 13th of September. Tree tells them not to pursue their planned reunion if there is anything short of a predicted Class I day. The weather on Katahdin could be dangerous for his older parents. I ate M&M¢s in a seated position because the wind was violently pushing us around on the exposed summit of White Cap. I can see why it¢s named ¢White¢ Cap because it probably stays in the clouds all the time. I put on a jacket in a vain attempt to keep my body temperature from plummeting. I get so cold I have to leave without seeing a view of Katahdin through the breaking clouds.With my jacket hood pulled tight around my freezing face, I made my way down White Cap. The tornado like winds and foggy scenery remind me of a place I¢d already hiked through. The rugged alpine brush above the tree line reminded me of the fields of grass on Roan Mountain highlands. This place looked like it could be another bald in Tennessee. I have to shake my head to keep myself from flashing back to being back at mile 400 something. These conditions would have been a nightmare on top of the grassy ridge line plains of the White Mountains. I feel like I¢m back in North Carolina and walking through socked in foggy bald¢s all over again. I was in a nostalgic mood mostly because of White Caps neighbor, Mt. K. The reflective mood changed at the sight of something I¢ve never encountered on this trail. Stairs! Literally, I walked down a flight of stairs off the summit of White Cap. The amount of labor that when into this pristine staircase absolutely left me speechless. I almost cried from the feelings of empathy for the MATC volunteer effort to build this massive walkway. I wonder in amazement at this work of love and art. Could this be a gift from the MATC for thru-hikers? Is this where the admirers of this trail finally throw out their red carpet for us? This stairway is nothing like I¢ve encountered so far. The amount of sweat and effort must be a labor of passion and love. I feel like it¢s no coincidence that all this effort was applied at the first legitimate sighting of Katahdin. These 300 granite stairs make me feel emotions similar to the sight of seeing one¢s enemy waving a white flag of surrender. Maybe I¢m being dramatic but could this be an MATC statement of unconditional peace?¢Okay, you made it. The end! No more beatings. Congratulations, you won!¢I practically ran down those stairs. They lead down at least a thousand feet in elevation. My heart was so absolutely impressed that I couldn¢t help but run. When a couple hiking south passed me, they put the icing on the cake. I was about to see Katahdin. That horrible bitch is just around the corner. When I get below the tree line, the cloud line hovers just enough for her mean stubborn ass to be seen. I¢m about to see my dream come true without a single grey shadow of a doubt! Oh, I¢m excited now! I¢m running down these dangerous stairs! When I get to the overlook I can¢t help but feel reverent. I actually stand in the shadow of the pine trees with my head down at my feet. My heart aches and I feel sick. My lustful eyes want to see Katahdin, but my weary bones don¢t need any proof to believe how far they¢ve come. I feel like I¢m going to vomit and I¢m frozen in emotion and I haven¢t seen it yet. I¢m old enough now to relish this moment. No longer am I in a youthful hurry to satisfy my craving and restless lust. This is a moment I could actually live without ever attaining. This is the end that I¢d been afraid of reaching. I¢m not nervous because this is what I¢d worked so hard for. I¢m apprehensive here at the throne of my achievements, because I don¢t believe it will satisfy my soul. Standing at the foot of the first glimpse of my sweet baby Katahdin, just feels like I¢ll be pulled into a vast hole in space where I just might fall and never reach bottom. This is the end and I know it and I regret it. All the nights of imagining what Katahdin would look like won¢t compare to actually seeing it.¢Nothing is as good as you can imagine it¢ ¢ Chuck PalahnuckI took a few steps closer to the overlook and froze. My heart aches the way a sailor sees his final port. I take a few steps and I¢m standing at the end of my rope. I intentionally keep my eyes low as I scan the last remaining plains and lakes of the 100 Mile Wilderness. This is like Thanksgiving dinner. First, I¢m eating everything that doesn¢t taste good. I¢m saving the best present for last like Christmas morning. My eyes are shaded from the horizon as I scan the jungle green tree tops and windy river beds between me and my final prize. I¢m checking the locks on doors one, two and slowly making my way to door number three. With my tingling spine I follow a blue ridge line across the horizon the way you would slowly rub your lovers back.A quote from ¢A Blistered Kind of Love¢ fits well here¢¦¢The horizon was the color blue that I¢d spent my childhood searching for, through boxes and boxes of crayons.¢This was my kind of blue. The color I¢d been trying to describe all along. My eyes followed along from east to west and up the jagged spine of the ridge. This is was like hearing the words come from your mouth that you always needed to hear. The horizon didn¢t reach a peak before disappearing into a cloud of snowy white perfection. That¢s it, I heard myself whisper. Life giving radiant sunlight will never feel any better than this. You couldn¢t feel this kind of good unless you were rescued from the sinking depths of hopeless despair by the Old Man himself. I stared with my mouth open like a Venus fly trap and imagined the warm flesh of an angel brushing against my soul that day. I¢ll never be the same. This is going to ruin me for good. I¢m lightheaded and flush when I hear Tree coming down the stairs toward the vista.Tree asks me if I can see it as he approached. I didn¢t respond with anything but a smile. I couldn¢t think of any thing dorkier to do than to give him a high five at that moment. So I offered my hand. I thought of Abel¢s ¢high five¢ advice back in Massachusetts.¢Stare at the elbow, you¢ll never miss!¢This was the moment to get things right. I thought of the importance of this high five as Tree got closer to the overlook. Don¢t screw it up I repeated over and over in my mind. I¢m notorious for intentionally missing high fives because I like the awkwardness that rip¢s through the air like lightening afterwards. The disappointment of a high five gone awry is highly comical to me in an entirely evil kind of way. Tree and I both reached back our arms in the air. I focused on his arm and swung with all my might. Our hands collided with all the fury and soul of two proud thru-hikers! What a manly high five! My hand stung with pain long after walking away. Without looking back at Tree I left my first view of Katahdin feeling stung with both pain and delight. Mostly, my bright red hand was doing all the stinging.I¢m surprised that Tree didn¢t linger at the vista any longer than he did. He was only there for a few seconds. Kids these days, I thought to myself. These youth of today are so impatient and pleasure oriented. Tree and I are the first to the shelter and we¢re both surprised not to see a group of lazy section hikers taking up all the room at 4pm. We both celebrate the fact that we¢ve made it to our destination before 8pm. There aren¢t any 50 year olds loitering about taking up all the space and being grumpy. We set out everything and are ready for dinner by 4:30pm.I¢m already warm and cozy in my sleeping bag when Rock¢n¢Roll surprises us by arriving before Hot Foot. Rock¢n¢Roll passed Hot Foot when he took a 45 minute break at West Peak and ate all of his Cosmic Brownies. Hot Foot arrives with a doomed look on his face. Rightfully so, he¢s out of food. Hot Foot knows he made a mistake by devouring his last Little Debbie! Hot Foot is still stressing out-loud about his low food situation and we suggest he grow a pair. I¢m still tempted to give him my food but after discussing the predicament with them, even they suggested I keep my supplies. These Hard Core people better not forget me or I¢m going to be worse off that anyone here.Tonight¢s entertainment was brought to you by Hot Foot¢s mp3 player. Luckily we all had been craving some Credence Clearwater Revival all day and he had a complete library of songs. We listened to ¢Proud Mary¢ and shared Hot Foot¢s last remaining supply of Jim Beam. Rock¢n¢Roll further entertained us by reading Cheeseburger¢s emotional shelter entry. Rock¢n¢Roll added comical value to the emotionally charged context of Cheeseburgers writing by reading it aloud with a German accent. Cheeseburger¢s writing was a page long account full of sentimental enthusiasm about his experience over White Cap Mountain. Rock¢n¢Rolls horrible German impression sounded more like a cheesy Russian accent.Cheeseburger wrote,¢Today, I tried to think of words to describe my experience but I have failed. I could not think of proper words to describe how it felt¢¦We giggle like little girls in the darkness and Rock¢n¢Roll finishes reading the passionate letter full of foreign gusto¢¦with a horribly irreverent impression. Rock¢n¢Roll cleared his throat and read more of Cheeseburgers letter.¢So, I¢m going to write it the best I can and every North Bound thru-hiker will know exactly what I mean¢¦¢Everyone in the shelter laughs during this awkward pause.¢Today I saw¢¦(All caps¢¦big spaces¢¦bold print¢¦)KATAHDIN!!!