Date: 2013-09-27
From: Lakeshore House, Monson, ME 15

To: Wilson Valley Lean-to
Miles today: 10.4

Holy Smokes, did I sleep well last night. I had crazy dreams. One of which involved a pet chicken with flowers for feathers. We put googles on it so that we could hold it while we rode on the front of a fast-moving train. The chicken's eyes kept getting dry because of the high wind speed. Decipher that one for me, Freud.I woke up at 7:30 and would have gone back to sleep except that I was told to be at Shaw's for 7:30 breakfast. Shaw's is the other hostel in town. They serve their guests first, and then Lakeshore patron's can come afterwards. I threw on my hostel loaner clothes and called Tom while I walked. We only got a few minutes to chat because Wanderwoman & Clark Kent were fast on my heels. We found our places at the breakfast table and were presented with two blueberry pancakes (how many blueberry pancakes have I had out here? A hundred?), two eggs over-easy, homefries, bacon, sausage, Sunny-D and coffee. All for $9. Not bad, and it's the only breakfast option in town. The weather could not have been any more beautiful. Finally the gorgeous weather we'd been promised for the last 4 days! I tried to call Tom when I started the walk back, but Limp Eagle pulled up and asked if I'd like a ride to the convienence store. For the second time in an hour, I told Tom I'd have to call him back. Luckily, my maildrops and a pillaging of the hiker boxes had supplied me with almost everything I needed to head into the 100-mile wilderness. Good thing, because Monson has extremely limited options, especially since the General Store has closed. This closure has left a lot of hikers in a bind. The morning hours were ticking away as was my motivation. I finally got in a quality call to Tom. Then to my parents. Then to Tom's parents. But the time I got my food sorted, pillaged through the hiker boxes for last minutes supplies (Aqua Mira, moleskin and an ace bandage), and repacked my bag, it was almost 11:00. I prepared to hitch-hike back out to the trail, but Rebecca ran one last shuttle with me, Freefall and Footloose. The Flying Js and Poppins were just coming out of the woods when we reached the parking lot, so they scored a ride into town with Rebecca. Bless her!At 11:24 a.m., I entered the 100-mile Wilderness. There were tents set up all over near Spectacle pond. Uncle Buck is hosting a hiker party tonight, and hikers are coming in from all over. I was encouraged to stick around, it was going to be a doozey, but as fun as it sounds, it's no competition with my getting to Tom. I kindly declined the party invitation and rock-hopped across the outlet to Spectacle Pond and headed down the trail.I guess I was expecting something significantly different to make the 100-mile Wilderness more "wildneressy." But the truth is, it looks just like the rest of Maine except there aren't any towns nearby for the next week or so. There's rocks, roots, mud, PUDS, streams to hop across, trail to curse at. The biggest difference I've noticed is the frequency of streams and rivers to ford. One I was able to ford via a log-walk (Little Wilson Stream) and one I had to take my boots off (the water was thigh-high but felt SO good on my ankle and knees). There were some really gorgeous ponds, and it was almost warm enough to swim, but I got too late of a start on the day. The profile looked pretty jagged, but I had still expected to make a little better time than I did. I only got 10 miles in 7 hrs of hiking. The thing is, my right ankle feels pretty jacked up. It wants to roll at the slightest uneven surface. I've wrapped it as tight as I can bear, but I don't trust it at all. Also, the top/front of my ankle hurts quite badly. I really wish I could let it rest and heal. I'm not sure it ever will. So I hobble slowly along, picking my way through infernal root systems and through every muddy bog and over every pile of rocks. I've realized, though, that this is my farewell hike, my "good-bye" to the trail. In just over a week (provided my ankle holds up), I'll bit it adieu. Perhaps forever. And it makes me a little sad. But still not as sad as mad at the roots, rocks, vertical climbs and trail builders. I'm staying at the shelter a couple of section hikers from New Hampshire. They are a nice couple, but all they want to do is talk gear. I haven't wanted to talk gear since GA (if even then), and at this point in the hike I'm so over talking about gear. Luckily, they crawled in bed early with a warning that they like to get up early. Maybe their early-morning motivation will motivate me, too. I've got two days of mountains coming up and a bum ankle. I need to average 14.6 miles a day to get to Tom by Tuesday. Fingers crossed the ankle holds together.