Date: 2013-09-19
From: Stealth camp on Woods road

To: Crocker Cirque campsite
Miles today: 11.4

The moon was so bright last night. It seemed more like a spot light than a celestial body. The leaves on the trees reflected dark in the face of its light. And it made a pattern that reminded me of the ACU pattern of an Army uniform. I thought of Tom and smiled. It wouldn't be much longer...I was awake before my alarm went off, and I got dressed and ready though I suspected my hiking partners might be a little delayed. I know better, but I just can't help it. It was 7:30 before we hit the trail. And the first bit of trail was a joke. It was smooth and dirt with fewer than normal rocks and roots. Without any notice we came upon a ladder/wooden stairs. What this a joke? It was about 5 ft long/tall and it was reclined against a small mound of dirt that wouldn't have caused us a second thought. We took turns taking photos next to it because the absurdity of it being there, especially given the trail we've been facing as of late.We made excellent time hiking up to Pernham stream. Cheech & Chong and Odie were camped out there; Odie had perched his tent atop a washed out bridge complete with trap door at the front. We got a hill standing around talking, so we decided to push on. There was a definite "up" to get to Lone Mountain, but for the first time in weeks we had a "trail" to walk on. Oh, and it felt so good. There were lots of moose tracks and lots of moose scat, but no moose that we saw.We stopped at Spaulding Mountain Lean-to for a snack break. We'd actually made decent progress this morning, and it felt great. I can't remember the last time that we'd averaged 2 mph. It felt like we were flying! We huffed and puffed up Spaulding, and we stopped at the bronze plaque that marked the last section of the AT that was constructed. Apparently the terrain was so tough that it took trail builders a while to figure out a way to get a trail through these mountains. No shit.We stopped at a stealth camping spot nearby a view to have lunch. We'd planned to have lunch at the vista, but it was too small and it dropped off precipitously. And there was no way I was going to be able to relax long enough to eat there. Our lunch group grew as Odie stopped, and then Neema, and then Cheech & Chong. I made some calls home to try to arrange some goodies for Tom's homecoming. I hate that I'm not going to be there to welcome him back myself. After lunch, the trail opened up and the trees disappeared or shrunk to non-existent. It was a gorgeous clear sky, not a cloud to be seen. The air felt dry, and for the first time in forever I was hot. Hobo made a comment that he felt that we were hiking out west, and I had to agree. In a simple turn of the trail, the AT had taken on an entirely new personality. We rocked across a couple of rock slides, but they seemed tame compared to what we'd already been through. We could hear a waterfall, but we couldn't see it, and I didn't dare get closer to the edge than absolutely necessary. Coming up there was an "ugly on paper" descent, but somehow I managed to get down it. I scooted down on my booty, and by now I've torn a hole in the back seam of my shorts. Its not surprising in the least given the miles that I've spent on my butt. We made it to the bottom with all of our skin and teeth in tact. Walking Stick, Odie, Cheech & Chong were still by a stream. I shed my shoes and soaked my feet and knees in the cold water. I didn't last as long as I would have liked. With the cooler temperatures and cold water, my determination is a bit dampened. I'm thrilled to get to see Maine in the fall as its colors are changing, but I'm also a little sad that the ponds and streams are too cold to swim in now (or at least the ones of late). The South Branch of the Carrabassett River looked inviting with its giant petrified marshmallow looking rocks, clear water streaming between them, its banks lined with bold red and flashy yellow trees, a piercing blue sky overhead. Absolutely gorgeous.Our trio loaded up, and I led the charge over some rickety sun-bleached boards that served as a solution to the "fording" required of this river. It was the scariest thing I'd done all day.Safely on the other side, we stepped over rocks and roots and squishy mud (luckily, we've had very little rain as of late, so a lot of the mud and bogs have dried a bit and are more navigable). We camp to the turn off for the campsite, and there was a small stealth site right there. I proposed that we camp there, but there wasn't enough room to safely have three tents and a campfire, so we hiked the .2 to the campsite. We set up our tents, and the campsite started filling up. There must have been at least 10 people there by the time we went to sleep. I hung out in my tent, seeking a little solitude. 'Twas a good day.