Date: 2017-06-17
From: Bald Mountain Brook lean to

To: Caratunk
Miles today: 14.8
Weather: light rain

What a difference a day makes.The cloud was still down, denying us the chance of a view from the top of Pleasant Pond Mountain but the absence of yesterday's driving rain and the complete absence of any kind of breeze allowed us to loiter pleasantly on a summit where we would have frozen our asses off just 24 hours earlier. But we could not forget yesterday's weather because it had left the entire mountain slippery. Since the AT frequently climbs, descends and traverses steep ribs of the ancient bedrock that form the basis of the Appalachians, that was a problem.Yet another marked difference about this trail compared to its siblings in the Rockies, the Sierra and the Cascades is that on at least a dozen occasions on any given day, the AT will feature combinations of rocks, roots and mud where a moment's inattention has the potential to result in a hike-ending fall. All of us fell today -- several of us multiple times -- but fortunately without dire effects.That morning Rapunzel was impressed by our leisurely start to the day compared to her previous "tramily" -- trail family -- with whom she'd hiked the 100 mile wilderness before a few pesky injuries caused her to linger longer in Monson than they did. They liked to get going at 6am but at 7am, there was yet to be any sign of life to emerge from the four of us who slept in the lean to.In our defence, we were only 15 miles from Caratunk and the weather was now entirely better than yesterday. It helped that the trail was easy for the first few miles down to Moxie Pond (although naming something a "pond" when it's eight miles long shows that, like their idea of "wilderness", Maine operates by different definitions than I'm used to).A crossing, via stepping stones, of one of the major streams feeding the pond was more of a challenge, particularly for Jake who eschews the use of hiking poles. We then had the briefest of road walks before beginning with the real work of the day: climbing Pleasant Pond Mountain.It was indeed slippery but there were compensations when Jake and I surprised a moose -- his first ever, my fourth on this trip -- as we plugged our way up the mountain. Rapunzel and Wrongway were half a minute too far back to catch a glimpse. It was only when we began encountering people who were clean and smelled nice that we realised it must be the weekend. I smiled to myself at the idea that our lives are now sufficiently off the grid that this is the main way in which we know the days of the week.There were a couple of thru-hikers amid the weekend warriors, including one guy, Bombadil, who'd hiked all the way to Stratton before the ascents and descents did his knees in and forced him off the trail with fewer than 200 miles left. We both commiserated and empathised. He'd now recovered and was doing the missing section, with some bonus miles for good measure.At least the trail was definitely Smeagol's handiwork today, and when we bypassed rather than clambering over the top of a couple of rocky knolls on the summit ridge, we later confessed we'd each felt surprised and relieved -- and also wondered if maybe we'd accidentally wandered off the AT.For reasons unknown, we also began suffering from getthereitis, thinking each high point on this long and undulating ridge would prove to be the summit. Of course this meant it felt even longer before we finally got to the top. This flawed optimism is a universal condition, to the extent that German alpinists coined a word for it: vorgipfelThanks to the pleasant temperature on the summit we were able to loiter and put off beginning a descent that lost 1100ft in around a mile. Once we actually embarked on the descent, it wasn't nearly as bad as we'd envisaged. Instead the entertainment came in the form of a mountain runner who was on her fourth ascent of the mountain that day, as preparation for the Killington 50 ultramarathon.Pleasant Pond lean to was six miles from town but after misreading the sign, I added 0.4 miles to my tally by following the blue blazed trail to the beach instead of the shelter. We found out later that in yesterday's rain, this tiny shelter hosted half a dozen frozen hikers, bunched up like sardines. We caned the final six miles to Caratunk despite the usual mix of roots, rocks and mud being made even more treacherous by the rain.Our goal was the Caratunk B&B and hiker hostel, about which we'd been hearing and reading glowing reports. Everything we'd heard proved to be but a fraction of the welcome we got from Paul and his helper, a 2006 AT veteran named Boulder. Soon we'd found rooms in his 150-year-old restored home at a very modest cost, had resupplied, showered, had Paul do our washing for $3 a load (I'd want danger money to even touch any item of used hiker clothing) and, of course, wolfed down hamburgers and milkshakes that were deemed to be among the best on the trail.Tomorrow we cross the Kennebunk River -- the largest unbridged river on the entire trail -- via an AT-operated canoe ferry. But because the ferry only operates from 9-11am at this time of year, I guess we'll have to linger over the huge cooked breakfast Paul provides...Life is good.AT fact of the day: This trail may be as physically brutal as everyone says, but the civilised and developed nature of the trail towns is definitely a welcome addition.