Date: 2006-08-02
From: Bald Pate Lean-To

To: Speck Pond Campsite
Miles today: 6.9
Weather: light rain

I woke up early today and the sky was red. I remember the old rhyme, "Red at dawn, sailor's be warned, red at night, sailor's delight." It's going to rain today. I can feel it. I go back to sleep. Soon enough, the nobo's are up and it is raining. They are anxious to finish the trail, rain or shine. I start stirring, but I'm not moving as fast as everyone else. The Beast makes a comment like, "Allison, you taking a zero day?" I reply, "thinkin' about it." He takes off. Everyone takes off and I catch up on my journal writing. This will give time for the rain to pass and my clothes to dry. HA!Actually, the rain does stop and the sun comes out. My clothes are still wet. I pack up and get ready to leave. As I am packing up, a sobo Jim and his dog Rocket arrive. He's just stopping in to eat breakfast and poke jabs at me for waiting so long to get hiking. Whatever. I'm on the trail now. It's wet, but not too bad. I get to the road at Grafton Notch. I stop at the creek before the road and have a snack. Jim and Rocket pass me. I cross the road into the State Park parking lot. Jim and Rocket keep going down the road. I guess he's going in to Bethel. At this point the trail goes from being managed by the MATC to the AMC. But for now, this part of the trail is also in a state park. It's pretty nice trail although the view of Speck Mtn, the mountain I am about to hike, looks pretty scary.The trail leaves the park and so also leave the white blazes.I begin climbing the mountain and it begins to thunder. I start looking for places to hang my hammock. I don't want a repeat performance of yesterday. I meet three nobo girls and ask them about the exposure of the mountain. They say its not too bad until Old Speck. I decide to keep going as I am still below treeline and the thunder seems to be moving away. A day hker passes me going the other direction and says, "I hate to break it to you, but you still got a long way to go." I want to shoot a smart ass comment back to this overweight yankee, but I bite my tongue. I get to the top of the ridge and their is a trail junction. The sign that AMC has put up is very confusing and I don't see any white blazes. I consult my map and my Wingfoot guide and decide to go the route of the unblazed. Its very windy now and its begun to rain. There looks to be a place where I could hang my hammock here and consider it, but its on the ridgeline which means a lot of wind. I decide to keep going. I should only be a mile away from the shelter now. It can't be that bad. I march on, climbing over rocks and tring not too step in the mud or slip off a bog log. The trail appears to end. No blazes to tell you where to go. I realize that now is where the trail goes over the exposed rocks of Old Speck. I say no way and turn back to find a place to hang my hammock. I'm not doing slippery exposed rock in the rain and wind again. I think I've found a place and } begin to rig up my hammock. Its not working, there are too many trees in the way of the ! fly. I pack up and head back to that first place I saw for hanging a hammock. I hate that I am backtracking. As I am backtracking, I notice that the clouds have liftes and I have visibility and the rain has stopped. I tell myself, "face your fears, Allison," and turn around and decide to go over that exposed rock.I get there, and even though I have visibility and the ran has stopped, the wind is fierce. It can knock you down! There are no blazes and I see only two cairns. I'm just guessing that I am going the right way. The wind almost takes my visor, so I take it off and clip it to my pack. I keep moving. At one point, I am hunkered down trying not to be blown into the shrubs and my pack cover is rattling. Next thing I know, my blue Campmor pack cover is flying off to my left, gracefully riding the wind currents. Now what? I can't retrieve it. Knowing that there is probably more rain to come, everything will be soaked again. At least I have a plastic bag I can put everything in. Finally, I get to treeline and the wnd subsides somewhat, but I'm still not sure that I am on the trail. Fear sets in that I am aimlessly making my way down this mountain into an unknown wilderness & I am alone. Occasionally, I see foot prints which tell me that others have been here before, but I'm still not convinced I am on the AT. I continue to make my way down the mountain, and eventually I think I hear voices. I even think I see a pond, but its still far away. The voices get louder and I begn to see tent platforms. Yes! I have made it to the campsite. It's a pay campsite, $8, and I consider telling the caretaker, a nice young former thru-hiker named Huff, to shove the fee up his butt since there were no blazes, but I can't be rude. I do let him know that the trail needs blazes and Marta aka Five Leafed Clover, seconds my observation.Its late and I want to get out of my wet clothes and get some food in me. Marta tells me how excited she is to see me as now we can go through the Mahoosuc Notch together tomorrow. I am happy too, because I don't want to do that by myself either. (The Mahoosuc Notch is billed as the hardest mile on the AT becuase it is all bouldering.)The shelter has one nobo, Powerstroke, an elderly gentleman from WV who actually started in Key West and hopes to finish the IAT in Gaspe, Canada, and three section hikers. I can't finish all of my mac 'n cheese, so I offer it to Powerstroke, who has mentioned that he's concerned about whether or not he haas enough food. Lights out. I am so tired and so ready to be done with this day.