Date: 2017-06-30
From: Mahoosuc Notch

To: Gentian Pond lean to
Miles today: 12.3
Weather: light rain

Who put the suck into the Mahoosuc Notch?Rain did!Our cunning plan to avoid the regular afternoon showers by doing the notch in the morning wasn't looking quite so cunning when I woke up to heavy rain at dawn, with the deluge having started soon after dusk the previous evening.It seemed to ease off again around 7.30am so I packed up and emerged from the tent -- at exactly the time the downpour started anew.But then the rain stopped entirely and I made my way up towards the start of the notch, which was basically a gently sloping canyon between two cliffs and filled with a jumble of cabin-sized boulders that had fallen from above and through which the AT made its way.Even though the rain had stopped, its effects were still definitely present in the form of slippery rock surfaces. Given the topography of the gorge and the way it held snow until deep into the summer, it seemed unlikely to ever be completely dry but about the only way it could have been more treacherous was if it had been still raining now. Happily, it wasn't.I'd been steeling myself for more slippery slabs but the reality was a series of grantor granite blocks that felt slightly easier than the slabs and in almost every difficult move, there was a branch, root or incut hold that serves as a Plan B if I slipped.In that sense, traversing the notch solo and after rain proved to be more of an exercise in risk management rather than technical difficulty, and I found myself really enjoying the process of working out the bouldering moves.When I met a couple like of nobos in mid notch, I told them I was surprised how straightforward it had been, to which their reaction was that they'd had an entirely different experience.Once past them, their reaction was explained by the presence of a few more technical sections, including one famous spot where you have to haul your pack through after you, but nothing particularly difficult.About 20 minutes further in, I heard raucous laughter and turned a corner to see another nobo hanging onto a boulder trying to get around a block of granite.She explained that she was still recovering from a fractured wrist, which made it difficult to use all her strength, but she seemed to be having the time of her life rather than undergoing some kind of ordeal.I never got her name but she announced herself as a cancer survivor who'd started the trail last year as soon as her treatment regime allowed it and got a far as, I think, the Shenandoahs before winter forced her of the trail. She'd resumed her journey in March and had to take a couple of breaks from the trail -- one to see her daughter play for the Puerto Rico soccer team and then to watch her son's band open for 21 Pilots. She wasn't breaking any speed records -- she'd already spent two hours traversing what proved to be about the top third of the mile-long notch -- but her enthusiasm was both refreshing and contagious.It took only another 30 minutes or so to emerge back on to trail at the top of the notch, at which point any hopes of easy ground were dashed by the ascent of Fulling Mill Mountain, which was less technical than the notch but far steeper.A few minutes later, I encountered a grizzled grey-haired nobo who was standing still and announced that if need to come up to where he was "because I've already fallen on my ass and don't want to do it again with an audience".The difference compared to the exuberant cancer survivor could hardly have been more profound. The AT, he announced, was the dumbest thing he'd ever done in his life and he couldn't wait to be done, but the trail was slowing him down from ending the misery as fast as he'd like."I used to be able to do a 10 by 10" -- an AT term meaning 10 miles by 10am -- "but here I'm struggling to do more than 10 miles on a day..."I wanted to shake him and say: "But you're out of the long green tunnel and you're in by far the most beautiful state, with a continuous array of gobsmacking views, and all you can think about is not doing 10 by 10 any more?"But he has to hike his own hike and I held my tongue other than to gently suggest ways in which lessening his miles and lightning his load might increase the enjoyment factor. He was just another burned-out, dead-eyed nobo who'd long since stopped getting enjoyment from the trail but was too pig-headed to quit.One of his many warnings about the trail I had ahead was about a single-plank bog bridge which had pitched him into waist-deep mud. Later two other nobos separately warned me about the same big bridge, having suffered similar mishaps.The next few hours were spent following the undulating ridgeline from Fulling Mill Mountain through to Success Mountain, a six-mile stretch made even more gorgeous by having clear weather and pleasant temperatures.Gorgeous, of course, does not equate with fast, and in between stretches of good trail were a variety of impediments that slowed me -- and, it was clear, mile-hungry nobos -- to a glacial pace.Sometimes it was bogs, sometimes it was slippery ribs of bedrock granite, sometimes it was rebar ladders but most of the time it was a series of treacherous wet granite cliffs which I had to ascend or descend with particular care.I think I found the famous single-plank bog bridge but as I got to it, I gave the plank a prod with my hiking poles and it simply floated about 10cm further into the mire. It was clearly not connected to anything and was simply floating in the mud -- who on earth would think this was a sensible thing on which to put one's weight?I figured they must be another similar plank further on but there wasn't.Instead the trail continued to vacillate between straightforward travel and an endless series of "Oh god, what now?" moments which made everything even slower and explained the depressed nature of the vast majority of the nobos.It was while traversing one of these that I realised that the Mahoosuc Notch was just like a compendium of the worst of these impediments, except strung together in one section and with -- thankfully -- the seriousness dialed down a bit.There was a shelter in the middle of this stretch but my goal was the Gentian Pond lean to, more than 12 miles in from my campsite. One compelling reason was it was just across the state border and into New Hampshire, so I'd finally be done with Maine after about 35 days or so. Even though I wasn't expecting a miraculous change to rolling hills and well-graded trail, the other compelling factor was the send lean to was then about 12 miles from the road, making reaching Gorham -- town! food! showers! warmth! comfort! -- tomorrow a near certainty, even if there remained a few more surprises still to come.I was lucky that the trail after Mt Success opted to go easy on me. By then it had begun to rain hard and the darkened skies -- more from the storm than the approaching dusk -- made progress a little treacherous."This is the time of day when it's easy to make mistakes," I kept reminding myself, taking extra care on the steep descents and through the slippery mud of the trail.Life out here is about taking pleasure from small victories, and I was very happy to see the turnoff to Gentian Pond lean to appear out of the murk. A few minutes later, I was amid half a dozen thru- and section-hikers who'd mostly come from Gorham to here.It was nice to have company for the evening after a tough day. It's always a little difficult to judge others' advice about the difficulties of the way ahead because neither side has done the others' section so there's a challenge to calibrate expectations and impressions. Even so, it sounds like the next 12 miles won't be quite as taxing.But given that the last section for me included the undisputed toughest mile on the AT and a stretch that halves nobos' mileage aspirations, I'm not sure that's much comfort...Even so, life is good.AT fact of the day: "Did you want to see a moose?" one of the lean to dwellers asked. "There's one on the pond, or there was a few minutes ago." And sure enough, as I went to get water, there was a moose on the far side of the pond, happily chewing away at the aquatic plants. Moose number five for the trip! It's probably better to keep this quiet since there still seem to be a solid proportion of both nobos and sobos who are yet to see one...