Date: 2008-08-09
From: Carlo Col Shelter

To: Speck Pond Shelter
Miles today: 9.5
Weather: light rain

Everyone said the "Notch" was the most difficult mile of the entire Appalachian Trail and they weren't kidding. A notch is what they call a gap between mountains in the northeastern part of the U.S.A. The Mahoosuc Notch is a ravine, almost level, running east and west between two very steep mountains, Fulling Mill (south peak) and the Mahoosuc Arm. It can best be described as a valley of boulders of every size imaginable, all piled on top of each other for an unknown depth. This ravine is very narrow, from about 30 feet wide where we entered it to about 60 feet at its widest. The trail,descends Fulling Mill on a very steep, rocky, wet course for almost 1000 feet before leveling off into the notch. The trail then disappears except for an occasional white blaze. There is only one way to go and that is east, (for northbound hikers), 1 mile over, under, around and between the boulders before exiting up the most unblievably steep, wet, rocky Mahoosuc Arm mountain for more than 1600 feet. In places it is necessary to remove your pack and feed it down into an opening and crawl in after it. This has to be fun for the younger crowd. For me with my aching knees that won't bend without much agony was a little less than fun but interesting. The real hikers term these difficult areas "technical" because the thought which has to be put into it I assume. A slip or fall into one of the crevices could end your hiking permanently. To complicate our day was that it started raining heavily as we were about half way through. I lost sight of RJ and Sage as they were in front of me. A little later, I discovered them huddled under a large rock, pretty much out of the rain. I on the other hand was soaked, which I had been almost constantly for the past two weeks or more. Not only I but everyone else.We made it through unscathed except for minor abrasions along the shins and knees. Just as we exited the east end, I slipped, fell into a water hole and slipped again trying to get up, wetting the last square inch of my body that I had kept dry up until that time. Sage said it appeared the whole thing was taking place in slow motion. I am sure that was because my left leg which had to bend completely to my hip could only do it in slow motion because of the stiffness. Since I was thoroughly disgusted with my lack of coordination and agility, I took point and led us up the trail out of this living hell, feet squishing with every step but otherwise unhurt except for my pride. After reaching the mountain top we only had a mile to go to the shelter ending a very long, tiring, but interesting day. It was at this point that I shared with RJ and Sage that I was leaving the trail at Grafton Notch as my interest had changed to bowhunting, plus I needed to get home. They both understood. Sage wanted to quit but her pride wouldn't let her. RJ was beaten down by the weather but determined to see it to the end. He verbally painted the best description of the climb up Mt. Katahdin, the last mountain, to me for encouragement but my mind had flipped away from hiking and there was no way was to get it back. My hike was over for this year. I would leave the trail tomorrow and once again, take the Greyhound south.