Date: 2015-08-14
From: Moxie Bald Mountain Shelter, ME

To: Monson, ME
Miles today: 17.9

After a night filled with moose calls echoing across Moxie Pond, I woke at 6:00am and was soon being serenaded by "Hero" from Rabbit next door. After a quick and still surprisingly smal post-Exterminator deuce, we were on the trail by 7:15am with plans to cover ~18 miles into Monson, ME. The town of Monson, with a population of only ~600 people, may not be much, but comes as an oasis to hikers for it's the last town for NoBo's (the first for SoBo's) before entering the 100-mile wilderness, the most remote stretch of the trail. Most NoBo's choose to stay here, at least for an evening, for their last chance at a comfy bed, hot shower, real food, and resupply before their last week on trail. With need and want for both, our goal was to reach town as early as possible in order to be able to relax longer.Setting out in what we'd eventually realize was over a 3mph pace, we'd soon reach our first crossing of the Piscataquis River. Maine, for whatever reason, chooses not to believe in bridges like every other state so at least a handful of sections must be forded depending on water levels. Although it provides a gold reason to take a break upon completion, it does ruin an otherwise good hiking rhythm. A rope, extended between 2 trees on either side of the river, was provided, but was pretty much worthless after years of use by the clasping hands of many hikers. As we crossed, Yoohoo was leading the way when he stepped on a large, flat rock (a no-go for experienced water-crossers) and wiped out on the slick, moss-covered surface. In a moment of 'WTF,' mainly due to having his phone in his now water-soaked shorts, he quickly jumped out of the water in a fury of jibberish that sounded like cursing. I could totally understand the feeling, but I did wonder if he kisses his mother with that mouth.We would spend the majority of the day skirting along the shallow, quick-flowing river, offering an occasional decent view other than the mundaneness of the trail and the feet of the guy in front of you. We'd eventually have to cross the river a second time, ruining our rhythm once again. Rabbit, feet and shoes already soaked from several slip-in's with water and mud, blazed across the second crossing without removing his shoes. Having not slept well in the past couple days and finally experiencing the negative effects, he decided that stopping to remove his shoes would only discourage him from continuing to move. As he disappeared into the woods on the opposite side, we slowly removed our shoes to begin our own crossing. This time it was I, after soaking 1 of my boots trying to find a rock crossing instead, who was cursing that Maine sucked, if only for their lack of foot bridges.It was at this point in the day that our bodies began to fail us due to the lack of calories we were able to provide them. With only 4 mini Kit-Kat's and a pack of crackers to my name, the others weren't much better off as the day grew hotter and miles left seemed to remain stagnant. As our bodies begain shutting down, we began suffering as we tried to reach out first option at food and/or drink at an outdoor center a couple miles before ours ending point. I eventually rounded a corner in the trail to where the trail crossed a small brook to find Rabbit standing in the water cleaning his mud-soaked feet. Huey would arrive soon after and we confirmed to meet in a mile and a half, get lunch to recharge, and finish the final ~3 miles into town afterwards. A brief rain shower would begin falling and, unsure of what was coming, I blazed ahead in order to try and make it to you planned meeting point.Despite being tired and my tank being on E, I figured I could push hard for another mile and a half. As I pushed on, the rain would soon end, the sun returned, and I'd find myself questioning why the heck this was the longest mile and a half of the trail. Slowing to a snail's pace, I finally crossed a SoBo who told me I was only a mile from ME 15, already over 2 miles from the center I was searching for. Figures. As a storm rolled along just south of my location, thunder rumbling as if the storm was clearing its throat in order to let me know of its presence, I reached ME 15 by 2:30pm. I'd quickly collapse along the roadside, tossing out my thumb in a half-assed attempt at grabbing a hitch along a road I knew vehicles couldn't safely stop.Eventually the others would join me as we'd continue to fail with securing a hitch. Eventually a man named Poet, owner of Shaw's where we originally planned to stay, arrived to drop off hikers and told us to climb in. We found out Shaw's was booked, but Poet did offer us a complementary PBR once in town. It was a kind gesture for sure. He then took us a few blocks to the Lake Shore House, a restaurant with a hostel above. We staggered inside, minds set on 1 thing, and ordered lunch. After our food arrived and we were able to eat (a Reuben for me) everything became right with the world again. We then retired to the upstairs hostel, complete with bunk rooms, semo private and private rooms, bathrooms and showers, a lounge with a decent movie selection, and the best laundry machines seen on the trail.The evening would be spent in the usual way - relaxing, showering, and watching TV - before venturing a few blocks to Spring Creek BBQ. The food was decent, if lacking anything resembling spice, but they offered free refills of Coke so I was happy enough. We then crossed the empty streets of the sleeping town to a gas station where we'd do our last resupply of the trip. We each unloaded handfuls of candy bars and snacks from our baskets as the kind, old lady tries to keep pace. Fortunately we've chosen to utilize a food-drop option offered by this hostel where, in ~50 miles, they'll drop off buckets of our remaining food, ensuring we'll only have to care a couple day's worth instead of 5-6 days. That'll be a big help as temperatures on Sunday and Monday are expected to climb into the low 90's. The remainder of the night was spent watching Austin Powers Goldmember and L.A. Confidential. Solid choices.*We plan to get a later start tomorrow as we enter the 100-mile Wilderness. Signal becomes hit and miss, if at all, over these last days. I will continue to journal in case I find signal, but I may not so please know that's why in case I disappear over the upcoming week. I thank you all for your continued support as I enter this final ~115-mile stretch of trail.Here's to dodging the rain, BBQ in the north, and being held accountable (this Here's to list has been edited in after forgetting to originally include it.)*Thank you, Cindi, for the nice message. I, too, found it a pleasure meeting you. A small trail indeed. We've been just behind Wilson since then so we may or may not catch him over this final week. I shared your well-wishes with the USS Bennington and they returned with a chorus of thank-you's. You're too kind and I appreciate your readership and support. Cheers.