Date: 2004-09-20
From: Katahdin Stream Campground, The Birches

To: Baxter Peak (Katahdin Shadow Motel, Medway, ME)
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: clear sky

Atop KatahdinMileage Countdown: -0.0I didn't sleep well last night. It was cold, and the wind was whistling through the trees all night long. But the real reason for not sleeping was the anxiety that always shows up before a big challenge - Will my sore hip hold up? Will I be able to get up the rock faces with the iron rebar in them? How about down? Will my body just give up in exhaustion before I finish?With those thoughts dancing around it was easy to wake up at my usual 4:45, and to go through my morning ritual - this time with the ingestion of Vitamin I added. Fortunately, I wouldn't need to carry my full pack up the mountain. The ranger station at Katahdin Stream Campground had lots of day pack for thru-hikers to use. I had packed mine with food, water, lunch and extra clothing the night before. So by 6:15, as it was getting light enough to see where I was walking, I set off to leave my big pack at the ranger station, and by 6:45 I was headed up the Trail toward Katahdin.As you leave the Katahdin Stream Campground, there is a sign-up sheet at the trailhead, with slots for time starting up the trail, and time of return. The rangers there at Baxter State Park are very serious about trail safety. Many hikers have been killed on Katahdin, one even this year. As I signed in, I could see that Turtle Don (whom I met in TN about a day south of Sams Gap, but haven't seen since) and King Alobar (whom I have encountered off and on since PA, but probably haven't mentioned much since he never stays in shelters) had started out an hour earlier.I began slowly because my hip was still bothering me, despite my dose of Vitamin I. Soon I was passed by Papa Bear, and shortly afterwards by Megabite whizzing by, then Hotrock. Pilot and Poler caught up with me, but dropped back to wait for Pilot's brother who was summitting with them. And I hadn't even reached the tough part of the climb yet.Then, just before treeline, the boulder scrambling began. Below treeline the boulders were rounded and rough-surfaced, but some rock faces were so difficult that iron rebar had been put in to help us get up them. At one rebar step in particular I remember wondering how I was going to get down that face, since it had been so tough going up.Above treeline the rock surface was much smoother, but covered with lichens, and the edges were often quite jagged. And I could look up and see that the boulder scramble was one of the steepest I had encountered and seemed to go on forever (probably around 1500' of elevation change). And the wind was ferocious, several times nearly blowing me off my feet. This was particularly disconcerting, since there was a steep dropoff in the direction the wind was pushing me. And behind me as well. To top it off there were several places where as I climbed up and through, I was wondering how I was going to get down that particular face. Speak Up!, Sloppy Walker and Tyson passed me going up the boulder scramble.The good part was that my hip stiffness was barely noticeable now. I don't know if the Vitamin I had finally kicked in, or if the hip had warmed up and gotten more flexible, or if my own endorphins had kicked in to block the pain, or if the boulder scramble so focused my mind on avoiding falling off the mountain that it had no resources left over to feel the pain. Probably a combination of all of these. In any case, my hip was not an issue for most of the day.I reached the top of the boulder scramble three hours after leaving the trailhead. From there I could see the summit (Baxter Peak) atop a modest rise across a stretch called the Tablelands. But it was still well over a mile away. I began to get excited, and tried to move faster, but couldn't go too fast because the Trail surface was quite rocky. As I began to go up the rise I noticed a bunch of people milling around on top. And I thought that the rocky surface on that rise was like Pennsylvania, and that the boulder scramble had been a bit like Mahoosuc Notch, and a bit like Mt Madison. In fact, Katahdin seemed to present a reprise of the whole Trail. That was the only time I got emotional all day, as this thought led me to think back about my whole hike, and I was overwhelmed by realizing just how much I had walked and climbed and scrambled over these last six months.At last I came over the rise and saw the famous Katahdin sign right in front of me. I rushed up to it and slapped it in a gesture of triumph, feeling elated and if I may say, a bit proud of myself. (I forgot to note the time, but judging by the timestamp of pictures I took, it was probably 2 to 5 minutes before 10:30 in the morning.)Then I joined the party that was going on - taking photos, opening the bottle of beer I had brought, slapping everybody on the back and congratulting them. As I ate my lunch and drank my beer I hardly noticed the brisk breeze that was blowing over us because I was so caught up in the celebration.But as I was finishing, I could feel I was beginning to stiffen up, so started down before all the others did (most passed me before I reached the campground, though). On the descent, I met Zipcode, Fireball, Bees Knees and Relentless, who were still coming up. Going down was much easier than I expected. None of the places I had expected to give me trouble actually did, even the very difficult rebar maneuver (probably because Speak Up! and Tyson were with me when I came to it). It seemed to go much faster downhill than up, but by the watch it actually took 15 minutes longer.As I was coming down the boulder scramble, I began to notice that my knees were beginning to protest. Once I got to the 'regular' (but still steep) part of the trail my hip started stiffening again, in spite of two more doses of Vitamin I that I had taken during the day. By the time I got to the trailhead just before 3, I was hobbling worse than at any point on the Trail. I was certainly glad that Speak Up!'s girlfriend was there waiting there for him, and was kind enough to take Tyson and me to this motel in Medway, where we are going to catch a bus back to 'civilization' in the morning. I certainly wouldn't have wanted to hitch, much less walk, the twenty-some miles into town.After checking in to the motel, and getting carry out from the Irving minimart across the street, I ate dinner in my motel room watching a Red Sox game (they lost), feeling rather letdown after the events of the day, and feeling rather lonely at not celebrating the end of my hike more fully.