Date: 2003-09-14
From: Potaywadjo Leanto

To: White House Landing (Mahar Tote Rd)
Miles today: 2.2

I wake early and am the first out of the shelter. The lure of hot coffee and breakfast is a strong pull! Today I will walk to White House Landing, a wilderness camp without electricity, on a Pemadumcook lake.Other hikers had told me to cross a gravel road, then walk another mile or so to a second gravel road. Cross that and look right for a grassy road with a track worn in the dirt. About .2 miles in, there would be another right, into the deep pine woods. Follow the hobbit track for another mile, over a logged-out strip, over leg-sucking holes in the forest duff, over bogs, and eventually come to an air horn by a dock on the lovely, rocky Pemadumcook lake. Thanks to Skeemer's journal, I knew to only blow the air horn once. He'd gotten fussed at for blowing it three times.I had breakfast on the brain when I tooted that air horn at 7:50 am. I knew from other journals there would likely be a wait. John, the section hiker from NC joined me.I sat on the dock in the sun. The water was quite clear. Sound and voices carried over the water. I imagined I could hear coffee mugs clinking, plates being scraped by hungry forks.Finally, a boat started towards us, then sped up the lake to drop overnight guests at a point much closer to the Trail. On the boat were all my friends! I waved and jumped around and blew kisses, and they blew them back. I was sad, wishing I'd been able to say good-bye in person. But at least I'd been able to say good-bye. They will summit Wednesday, if not before. I'll summit Friday or Saturday. We're only 45 miles away!Bill, the owner, arrived with son Ben and dog Pooh Bear. They boated us back to their dock and who should still be standing there but Chief and Dreamwalker?! We swapped places at Bill's direction.Chief promised to e-mail me when he summitted, and I promised a bottle of red wine to celebrate, since neither of us really had champagne tastes."Come here and hug my neck," said Chief, and I jumped back in the boat for a good-bye hug, much to Bill's directional chagrin. Dreamwalker got a hug too, and I made them promise to give one to Finch. Ha! Wonder if he'll actually get that one!And then they were gone, keeping their own date with Katahdin.I found out there was no breakfast, unless one signed up the night before! Aaargh! John was disappointed too, but decided to stay for lunch at 11 am. I was staying the evening, so I checked into the $15 bunkhouse, took a $5 shower. Laundry was free, swished in a bucket with biodegradable soap and lakewater, then put through an old-fashioned wringer and hung on a line.When lunch rolled around, more section hikers boated over - Homeless and Unemployed, and their friend Dig, actually '01 thruhikers redoing the Wilderness. We found out we all knew Philosophy (my friend, hike mentor and gear guru Wendy). Okay, follow this closely, there WILL be a quiz: They'd met Philosophy at the same Hot Springs Trailfest that had been the spectacular terminus of MY very FIRST backpacking trip - the one which Wendy had prepped me for and taken me on. There's more: It was also on this trip that Wendy had met Web (Josh), now her significant other - and hiking friend of Homeless, Unemployed and Dig! Even More Small World stuff: WHL overnighters Biscuit and Red Beard also realized they'd met Dig - over supper at Elmer's, a supper at which Earl Schaffer had been present. The very Trailfest where Earl had presented rare original slides of his pioneering thruhike in 1948 - the historic showing I myself had seen!It pays to foster kinship in the hiking world! Someone from your past will always turn up when least expected. Many fateful intersections here at WHL, in a remote corner of Maine.Finishing sectioners Gazelle and "Sidekick" (he'd kept the Trail name I'd bestowed upon him for the Wilderness) boated over too, and joined me in the bunkhouse. It was a pleasure to see these two gentlemen again.The enormous WHL burgers live up to their reputation. Mine is about a 2/3 pounder, no lie - a juicy, 7-napkin affair.I sort my maildrop ($5) and give a lot of my food away to John and Jason and Dig. I sent too much, as always. What was I thinking? You'd think by Maine I'd have shed the starvation mentality! It's a quiet afternoon on a beautiful lake. The day slowly clouds over though... sigh. This splendid Indian summer weather has been a large factor in my lollygagging slowdown. When it's rainy, lingering is no longer a pleasure. Showers are predicted for Tuesday, but no water on Wednesday, Chief and Finch's anticipated climb date. I hope they have a fantastic, clear ascent.But all in all, I'm glad I stayed at WHL. With meals, shower, bunk and Ben and Jerry's ice cream, the visit will cost me about $50. That's a lot for a thruhiker, but very cheap for a lakeside resort with hammocks, canoes, docks, benches, porch swings and other seductive spots of rest and respite. The other residents are hikers, jolly, and there is a happy, summer camp atmosphere.The remote, rustic lake complex is open all winter and by necessity, entirely "off the grid." Wood heat. Propane lights and stove. Outhouse. Gravity-fed spring water. Cell phone. Their private home has solar power and wind turbines to run the fridge and TV, and a generator for the laundry.Finally some thruhikers came in, Dutch and later, Hungry. It was fun comparing notes.When the mega-burger was digested, I went down to the lodge for a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a can of rootbeer, and made myself floats until I was in pain.For dinner, I did penance and ate my self-shipped tuna, then wandered up to the dining hall for a huge slice of homemade apple pie - the light crust made from scratch and fall apples from their own WHL tree. The pie was tart-sweet, esp. with the last scoop of my B&J vanilla ice cream. I really do have to stop this... soon... any day now...