Date: 2004-08-08
From: Hiker's Paradise, Gorham

To: Carlo Col Campsite
Miles today: 17.0
Weather: light rain

One good thing about a poor nights sleep is an early start to the day. It was shortly after 7am on Sunday as I walked out on the empty streets of Gorham. No point hanging out the thumb just yet. There was a convenience store not far that would certainly have orange juice. Mmmm, orange juice. A breakfast roll and donut helped to balance the sleepless night. The sky was clear. The air was crisp, but there was no one driving this road at this hour.The road walk was getting a bit long when a white van approached. It had a logo and writing on the side which meant it must be a business van. Chances were good that it wouldn't stop due to company policy. Then again, maybe not. It did stop. Not only that, a voice from inside called out, ¢Scott?¢ Oh my gosh! It was Andy Jepson. She used to design lights for the Street Car Company, a community theatre group that did shows on the Gilford stage. We worked together on several shows. That was decades ago. What a small world. This was a great reunion. Apparently, she and a friend had started out on the AT back in March but had to stop due to injury. We talked about the trail and trail names and such. She knew just where I was going and dropped me off just before 8am. One more farewell, to a friend of long ago.The trail follows along the road for a bit here where it crosses a railroad and the Androscoggin River at a dam. Then it moseyed up a short road to find its way back into the forest where it climbed steadily up to the ridge. The sky was a beautiful mix of blue and puffy white clouds once again. There was a small group of middle aged hikers just starting out here at the road for a few days. They were just ahead. We talked for a bit along the road walk. They were actually moving pretty well. The distance between us grew once the climb began until they vanished in the forest behind me.Up on Mount Hayes there was a nice hunk of open ledge with a fine view to the south of the Presidential Range. There were a couple of thru-hikers taking a snack break there. After a momentary trail finding issue the hiking continued. It's possible that this hunk of trail from US-2 to Dream Lake, was new to me but not for long. It was a nice section with lots of little ups and downs and ponds and lakes. This was a happy morning of hiking.At about quarter past noon, 8 miles into the day, the trail brought me to Waterloo and Machine. What a happy reunion. Apparently I had passed them while they were in their tent up on the Wildcat Ridge. They stayed at The Barn in Gorham and got an even earlier start than me. It seems The Barn wasn't the best place either. They were sitting on some rock, eating lunch and checking out a map. Page Pond was visible just through the trees. We talked for a bit. The sky was gray by now. As I was about to move on, Machine confessed they stopped here hoping someone might come along. It seems the trail crossed the outflow of Page Pond on a beaver dam and they were hoping to watch someone else do this first. It's true, this was the first time the trail had crossed on a beaver dam. Imagine that. Beaver dams are fairly common up here but not on the real major trails. We had a good laugh and I obliged them with a demonstration. My boots even stayed dry.Just after crossing the beaver dam it started to rain. My friends eating lunch on the other side rushed to mind. It's no fun when all your stuff is out and it starts to rain. It's much better to be on the move hiking in my opinion. Just let me eat in peace. The rain didn't come down hard. Nor did it last for long but it had become one of those days that felt like it could start to rain again at any time. In fact it did from time to time. Days like this made the rain gear question hard to answer. The trail would become a bit more familiar soon at Dream Lake. This was the site of my first back country moose sighting some 15 years ago. The moose was just standing in the middle of the lake munching on submarine plants. My friend Chris G and I were stunned frozen in the waning twilight. Even though lunch part one had just been a little bit ago, stopping in at Gentian Pond Shelter for lunch part two would get me out of the rain that had started up again. After a while it stopped raining. Nobody & Alright showed up. These guys were recent graduates of Plymouth State University in NH. They had big time dreadlocks. They were also operating on a very tight budget. This was not the first time we had met. Now, thru-hikers are a stinky bunch, yours truly included. Strangely though, we don't tend to notice it much. These guys, however, were in a class all by themselves. Trying to pinch pennies, my guess is that they seldom got a chance at a shower with soap. That's OK, just stay up wind of them.There were some raspberry bushes right in front of the shelter. My plan was to chow down on them just before moving on, that was, until one of these guys decided to relieve himself right there on the bushes. Oh come on. That's pretty high impact for right in front of the shelter. They seemed to be in a kind of negative bummy mood. This wasn't the time to deal with this and the words escaped me, so, I just moved on. It had been a long stay anyway. It was past time to move on.About a mile later the trail begins a fairly steep climb up the 3,565' Mount Success. The climb goes on for about a mile. The top of Success is very exposed. Before breaking out of the trees the sky darkens, the wind comes up and it starts to rain. This seems a bit more seriously, so there in the dwarf spruce the rain jacket comes out and goes on. All hatches are battened down. It's almost 5pm and the next shelter is 3.4 miles ahead and 0.3 down off the trail. That's not far but these are the Mahoosuc and travel is not easy here.The trail thrusts out of the protection of the trees onto the open bogs with their slick narrow bog bridges. From there it's a mater of scaling wet exposed ledge covered in lichens, made all the more slippery with the water it's drinking up. Then there are the puddles with out bog bridges to be waded through. Fighting the wind and the pelting rain with every step is made all the more surreal by the calm placid view of the valleys below that are still bathed in sunlight. These clouds and this storm are a localized high mountain event. It's really pretty cool. The water pours around the boulders and over the ledge as the trail descends another bump back down to still more meandering bog bridges. There is nothing like a storm to motivate a hiker on the trail. I was hauling. But surviving this stuff requires a certain degree of care, too. Oh, yeah, then there was the lightening and a bit of hale. Let's not forget those. This was a scary traverse of exposed terrain.About an hour later, the clouds withdrew, the rain subsided and lo, the sunlight came majestically streaming through the trees and mists. It was beautify but chilly. Yes this little storm had brought some seriously chill air. Nice, except for the fact of being drenched from the waist down. That's OK. Just keep on hauling to Carlo Col Shelter. Yup, here was Maine, the last state, at 6pm on the 8th day of August, the 99th day of the grand adventure. This was a pretty amazing event. The extent of my joy and amazement is really beyond words. I was gonna finish this thing! This was made all that much better by the sign at to border which read of course, ¢WELCOME TO MAINE ¢ The way life should be.¢ What a great slogan. Now for a few photos and then keep moving to stay warm.The shelter at Carlo Col was just a half mile ahead and 3 tenths down. No problem. Of course, wouldn't you know that after that soaking rain the shelter would be full. And of course there was not a thru-hiker to be seen in the shelter. Fortunately there were plenty of tent platforms. The trails to the platforms were however a series of lakes and pond requiring some pretty agile rock hopping to keep feet drying.The lowest platform seemed like the one for me. I did my best to dry it off and held off on pitching the tent to let it dry some more. The wind blowing water off the needles of the spruce and fur trees didn't help with my plan too much. My fellow thru-hikers, Nobody & Alright, Waterloo & Machine, and perhaps some others pulled in on the other platforms. We all groused a little about the shelter occupants who had of course arrived much earlier after hiking far fewer miles. That discussion ended quickly with a chuckle and we really held no malice. Well, not much. We would all sleep better out here anyway. After 17 miles of rugged and stormy trail, lines went up to hang wet clothes. Dinner was cooked and eaten and surely there was some pudding to be had to celebrate the auspicious occasion of being in Maine, the 14th and final state of the AT, Woo hoo! 1,892.7 miles from Springer. 281.4 to Katahdin. Unbelievable.