Date: 2013-07-19
From: Full Goose Shelter, mi 1,909.0

To: Frye Notch Lean-To, mi 1,924.5
Miles today: 15.5
Weather: few clouds

I was roughly five miles into Maine and had spent my first night at the Full Goose Shelter. Full Goose is the second shelter in from the state border, perched on a small ridge. The Mahoosuc Notch is about 1.5 miles north. The AT dropped down steep terrain and crossed bogs with boardwalks, ascending Fulling Mill Mountain before dropping about 1000-ft into the notch. I don't recall hearing too much about this topographic wonder in previous weeks, but heard from the south bounders hanging out in the Full Goose Shelter the previous day, that it was fun. It was an obstacle course! They had proceeded in showing me photos on their phone of hikers crawling through the caverns beneath the house sized blocks obstructing the narrow gorge. I knew I was in for some slow slogging and an early morning start would be to my advantage, with plans to make it over the Baldpates by the end of the day. I had breakfast in the shelter, wished Danny (war veteran) the best on his journey south, and headed on my way down the first ridge south of the notch. The skies were overcast and the landscape still damp from the heavy rains the previous night. The AT crossed more wood planking and ladders characteristic of the tundra in the Whites and now the Mahoosucs. The drop into Mahoosuc notch was no steeper than other notches to the south, just wet and slippery. The traverse over and under roughly a mile of chaotically distributed blocks covered in moss reminded me a bit of the many approaches I made while climbing in Joshua Tree, CA, only these blocks where on average twice the size and slippery by virtue of the rock type (metamorphic) and the microclimate. In dry conditions, a bold climber would think nothing of leaping across a 5-foot chasm with a good landing. Here, the landings were not only sloped, but mossy and wet, with a 20-ft death drop into a dark chasm. In places, the AT traversed short sections of soil and roots on the notch perimeter. The roots served as anchors to grab and lower myself down the slippery rock to a labyrinth of chasms and tunnels over the course of about a mile. It took me a good two hours to take alternative routes beneath the blocks and sometimes over them, where boulder moves were feasible. In one dark cavern beneath the blocks, I encountered a seizable chunk of glacial ice. The temperature beneath the blocks dropped sharply to maybe 50 degrees, in contrast to the balmy 80F on top of the blocks. Dropping into and climbing back out of the micro-climate was as invigorating as jumping into a icy alpine lake on a warm sunny day. At the end of the Mahoosuc notch, the AT begins a dramatic ascent up the Mahoosuc Arm. The upper half of the arm, involves careful friction steps up inclined rock slab. This is generally treacherous type terrain, especially when wet, but it was to my advantage to climb it than to drop it! I made good time trusting my smearing technique from my climbing experience, ascending 50 to 100 sections of wet slab, inclined at about 45 to 50 degrees. By late morning I dropped into Speck Pond. The AT traverses a shoreline of angular boulders and roots, before reaching the Speck Pond Shelter and Campsite. The terrain was so rocky and steep, it appeared that wood platforms were established like the one behind Full Goose shelter. In passing by the shelter, I did not see or hear a soul. I hiked a fast clip up the steep slopes toward Old Speck Mountain. The AT doglegs before ever reaching the summit of Old Speck Mountain, descending steadily, a long ridge into Grafton Notch (ME 26). I found a couple of packs stashed in the trees near the junction where the AT turned down the ridge, but no hikers were visible. I turned downhill towards Grafton Notch and found a large rock illuminated by the early afternoon sun a few tens of yards down the ridge to enjoy a bite to eat. I met the owners of the packs moments after I sat down for a snack. They had committed to packing in some serious weight up and over the steep ridge from Grafton Notch so they could fish in the middle of on Speck Pond with a small raft. I guessed that the raft alone was 40 lbs. The descent to Grafton Notch went relatively fast, particularly in the lower elevations. The AT traversed rock and soil, relatively unobstructed by the chaotic piles of rock characteristic of the AT throughout PA , NH, and now ME. I filled water bottles at the stream before my final descent to Grafton Notch. At the notch parking area, I met a young group of hikers with two dogs heading south bound. I recall they called themselves the "Puppy Pack". They were on the AT for already a month and still not out of ME. I thought about Mahoosuc Notch and the many other difficult spots on the trail then wondered how hikers managed to get their canine companions to follow them through such terrain. My dog would stop at a ledge and stare at me until I assisted in lifting the 100-lb lug to safety. It would be dangerous for both the hiker and the animal. After a good rest at the edge of the parking lot, I hiked across ME26 towards the big wood AT letters at the trailhead. The trail leading to Baldpate Lean-to was surprisingly easy for its steepness. The MATC constructed rock steps up the steep slopes north of the lean-to. Through a corridor of trees at the summit of Baldbate West, I could speculate the probable trace of the AT over Baldpate east. The AT dipped into a broad saddle then up friction slabs through a prominent clearing in the low trees up the lower flanks to a rocky bald. The friction slabs of Baldpate were reminiscent of the the many exfoliation domes of Tuolumne Meadows of northern Yosemite, CA. You could friction step your way up slab inclined at 45 degrees, climbing up vertical steps- five or more vertical feet, where large sheet like slabs came unattached and slid down the mountain. I took a few photos in the setting sun on Baldpate east, including the pyramid like cairns before dropping steeply back into the forest towards Frye Notch. Near the bottom of Frye Notch, I intersected trail under construction- fresh soil smeared over large rock. Frye Notch Lean-to was perched on a moderate slope above a creek. I walked past the lean-to, up slope along the AT, towards a large tarp raised on four poles anchored with guy lines. Beneath the tarp, a group of trail maintenance volunteers including a young woman, gathered to play cards. The sloped earth left few options for a viable tent site, without rolling down the slope in my sleep. I set up camp at the base of a large tree which supported enough soil upslope of it to provide a semi-level tent pad. One of the youth walked over gazing at my tent and curious about it. He was astonished by how simple the set up was. On my way down to the creek to wash up and collect water for cooking, the occupants of the lean-to had woken. It was near dark. The two men were northbound hikers, perhaps early to mid 60s, who introduced themselves as Punkin Pie and Mott. I recollected they were from TN and hiking together since the early start of there journey. After a late dinner, I settled into my tent for the night, just in time for the familiar crackle of thunder to arrive. It was followed by heavy rain. It poured for a good half hour before tapering to lighter showers. I was thankful for not having to set up camp in the rain, or deciding to cowboy camp, though I was well conditioned now to always be prepared for the rain.