Date: 2017-07-28
From: Rangeley 

To: Redington Campsite 
Miles today: 8.0

7/28Redington Campsite8.0 milesSaddleback Mountain is so pretty! My previous traverse happened in rain and whiteout fog. I could barely see cairn to cairn, and the hike took on a nightmarish quality as I walked alone, interminably. I saw no other hikers that day until I reached the summit and found four hikers there. Today the weather was clear and cool. I could see for miles in all directions. I could see mountains I had hiked, mountains I would hike, lakes all around, and very few signs of humans. It was glorious. I paused often to drink it in. I saw a couple dozen shiny happy people, as drunk on the beauty of it as I was. But first.. I woke up in my comfortable bed in the Rangeley Inn and didn't want to leave. I told myself to sleep until breakfast time, which is what I did. Breakfast was better than yesterday, because the three cheese frittata tasted better than the tomato and feta one. And today's blueberry scones were delicious. My aching knees carried me back up the stairs. The phrase "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here" applied. The town would soon be crowded with Clint Black fans and his entourage. I knew the motel was booked. I had to leave my room. I packed everything, corralled my detritus as well as I could, and left a tip for the maid. My pack with its smaller and lighter sleeping bag and pad, and significantly less food, felt good! Carrying it felt natural, as opposed to the huge burden it had been walking into town. I felt a little better about going. I still wanted another day off, but it was clear that today would be beautiful - a good day to be in the woods. I dropped my key in the box at the front door, walked across the street, and stuck my thumb out. I wasn't thirty seconds after I stepped outside the Inn that I had a ride. A voice called out from a car, "Mrs Joy!" Terry from the Town and Country motel was shuttling Halfway back to the trail. I hadn't known he was in town. I had assumed he was well ahead of me. He said that he had spent three days in town. I didn't ask why, figuring he would tell me if he wanted me to know. It was good to see his face, though. Even better to do so as I rode back to the trail. I still wasn't feeling it by the time I got to Piazza Rock Shelter. I stopped there to use the privy and tighten my shoe laces. A sleepy head was somehow still in a sleeping bag, despite a horde of children loudly playing tag nearby. She woke soon, and I got to meet River Otter - a kindred soul, I think. We chatted for a bit. After a while I said "I'm feeling super motivated today." Straight faced, she said "I can tell. You seem obsessive about it. I was getting worried. " It felt good to laugh. After a little more conversation, I shouldered my pack and continued north. Then I ran into the beauty of Saddleback and my motivation reappeared. After crossing the Horn and descending, I assessed the time and decided to stop at this campsite. It felt weird to stop so early. It was just five when I set up my tent. I'm not exhausted, I had plenty of time and energy to fetch water, hang my bear line, and make dinner. It's been weeks since I felt like that after a day of hiking. Physically, I could have continued to the next shelter. But I'm glad I stopped. This feels nice. A little quiet and lonely, but nice. Tomorrow I should get started a couple of hours earlier, seeing as how I won't be having frittata. At 7 pm I'm in my jammies in my tent. Now that I have my nice light sleeping bag, I'm of course worried that I won't be warm enough. My 20 degree bag was so puffy and obviously warm that it was reassuring. Of course, I was uncomfortably warm and sweaty in it. But I was very confident that it could handle anything. It will take a night or two of not freezing for me to feel comfortable with this one again.