Date: 2003-09-10
From: Bodfish Farm Road

To: Chairback Gap Leanto
Miles today: 11.8
Weather: clear sky

In the wee hours last night, the moon worked her way to the window nearest my bunk at the Pie Lady's and shot moonbeams into my eye until I woke up and said hello. Splendid harvest moons in all their glory so like to be admired. I did my part.The Pie Lady made me breakfast, baked her pies (blueberry and apple today), then took me out to the Trail. The maple trees in Monson are tipping out in fiery red, sometimes a whole branch here or there. Quite a sight against the white steeple of the community church. A calendar photo.Pie Lady took me down the road as far as she could go, and I walked the last mile to where the AT resumed. Shortly after I started on the Trail, I ran into some section hikers I'd met yesterday walking southbound into town. It was Old Gazelle, and a buddy I dubbed "Trusty Sidekick," which is what Chief always called himself. Except for a small piece of Vermont Gazelle had left to hike, this trip thru the 100 mile Wilderness was his AT completion. In the "Small World" department: Gazelle was from Chattanooga TN. "Hey! I said "My friend Notes has been writing and shooting his hike for that paper." They got all excited, since they were avid followers of the series. They'd heard Notes was in the vicinity and were hoping to run into the young man himself. They couldn't believe Notes had been in Monson with them last evening. They also recognized "LiteShoe" as someone Notes had featured - "characters" from his travels, no doubt.Speaking of Notes, I have more recollections from yesterday's visit:1). He told me that my old hiking buddy Ben (Just Do It) will start over again next year from Springer. I have no doubt Ben will complete his thruhike, if drive and equanimity have anything to do with it. This was delightful news.2). There was ice on Katahdin when they'd climbed. It had been a warm day when they'd started up.3). I would be able to see Katahdin clearly just past the summit of White Cap Mountain, two days ahead. "You can't miss it," he assured me. "It's like Mount Fuji. It looms."So, back to today: I climb up into the Barren-Chairback range alone. I'm carrying the heaviest food bag since the Smokies (way back when I swore I would no longer carry more than three and a half days food at any given time). Signs at the Monson Trailhead had warned us not to underestimate the difficulty of the terrain ahead, and to carry ten days worth of food. Well, I already shaved a day off by slacking back to Monson. And I plan to take a week to do the rest. Some of the swifter youngsters do it in five or six, but I am not in that much of a rush. This is my swan song! Why hurry? My left foot is killing me, for some reason, under the arch. I inspect my foot and sock, but see nothing. This is a new thing.Within the first mile or two, I break the 100-mile mark. Only 99.9 miles left to go! It seems like so little after nearly 2,100 miles. The terrain is not difficult, but lots of climbing with a heavy pack. I'm glad I broke the days up as I have.It's not long until I've hiked up to The Ledges, bare slate slabs looking down on a vast, sparkling island-studded lake. It's another Indian Summer day, perfect for climbing: dry, cool, sunny. THIS is what I envisioned thruhiking would be like. Ha!In the saddle after, I cross a fantastic bog on puncheons. The fall colors are overwhelming in this heady blue-sky sunshine. The bright rusty orange of drying ferns played against the greens of sphagnum moss and young fern, and translucent yellow of ferns on their way out. Silvery, weathered wood stood like columns. The bog was mountain-ringed, an enchanted place, made even more so by another discovery: a veritable field of rare, carnivorous pitcher plants! The red-veined beauties were everywhere. Every hummock had a community. Their "pitchers" were full of water, just waiting for the unwary mosquito to nip in for a look-see. Go, mosquito-eaters!What a breezy, pleasant afternoon, slow going but not difficult. About 3:45 pm, I met an older couple going southbound. They told me the shelter was four hours away. They were fit and experienced, so maybe I wouldn't get there by dark. Wow, this was slower Trail than I'd figured!They told me about a campsite up ahead, by a waterfall. I could be there by 6 pm, they said. From then on, I had visions of my tent by that waterfall, lit by the full moon. When I got there at 5:30 pm, however, the waterfall turned out to be bog runoff, and I could find no flat place. So I trudged on over Columbus Mountain, catching the last rays of the setting sun, and went down the mountain toward Chairback Gap Leanto. I'd stay at the shelter. So much for solitude, I thought.To my surprise and delight, I was alone. Lovely!I thought about tenting, but a shelter to myself was too easy. Later, before bed, a young man sticks his head in, surprising me. He's tenting out back with his bride. It's Moose River, a '94 thruhiker, honeymooning in the Wilderness with Teaberry. A Marathoner, his new wife "is in better shape than me," he says with a grin.It's rather mousy in here. I hope the rodents give me a break. The moonlight is flooding the area, and my hanging backpack gave me a start just now when I looked up and saw it silently "standing" there, "watching." Ha!Tomorrow, perhaps a side trip to the Gulf Hagas.