Date: 2017-06-26
From: Rangeley

To: Bemis Mountain lean to
Miles today: 17.7
Weather: clear sky

"You're hiking the AT? Do you need anything? I don't have any sodas but I have beer in my truck."Did someone say beer? The Boston doctor explained he was supposed to be on a trip to Alaska right now but an outburst of sciatica had caused him to cancel his trip so instead he was getting his taste of the outdoors by visiting his holiday cabin near Rangeley.I met him just before the start of the ascent to Bemis Mountain, by which time I was feeling flat from the after effects of the indeterminate lurgy that had sidelined me the day before.His car was just nearby and as he opened the hatchback, he realised he'd already taken the beer into the cabin, about 10 miles away. "Sorry about that, but I have this," he said holding up what appeared to be a tin of beetroot. "Would you like that?""Ah, thanks for the offer but I think I've got everything I need."This was probably for the best, since I'd later have to carry the empty beer can for a considerable distance before finding somewhere to dump it.I was still feeling less than 100 per cent that morning, as demonstrated by my inability to eat my usual enormous town breakfast, on which the rest of the day is usually fuelled. Instead I only managed two slices of pizza from the previous night, where I'd eaten a pitiful two more slices instead of being able to devour the entire thing. The remaining half of the pizza went into the pack for snacks, along with the burritos I'd bought earlier as my intended breakfast, then I shared the shuttle back to the trail with Fern, Gully and Rapunzel.After the difficulties of the Saddlebacks and the Bigelows, I was grateful that the trail was fast and easy. In two hours, we'd reached a campsite beside a lake complete with canoes for hikers to use -- none of which looked particularly seaworthy, but did seem like they'd enjoyed long and full careers -- and then two hours more and we were at the first shelter.Rapunzel was having knee problems and opted to hitch in to Andover, the next trail town, from the highway another 3.8 miles beyond. Fern and Gully were, sensibly, taking it slow after having some earlier joint pain and weren't aiming to go further than this shelter. Doing this trail sobo is hard on our bodies!But I was still feeling pretty good at that point so I continued down to the highway, crossed it and headed down to the river, where I met the Boston doctor and his proffered tins of beetroot.It was as I'd crossed the road that the previous day's illness -- and, more importantly, not eating adequately during the zero day -- that my legs began feeling leaden and my mood flat.But I knew there was rain forecast for the following day and then through much of the rest of the week so it still seemed wise to book some miles ahead of what was said to be difficult trail as we got closer to the New Hampshire border.The climb up to the ridgeline was slow but steady and then the trail followed the classic bedrock ribs which had been such a common feature throughout Maine.I was grateful not to be doing them while wet and even more grateful when I arrived at the turnoff for the Bemis Mountain lean to.Spiffy and Littlefoot were present, as was Janine, along with a host of nobos -- mostly featuring the all-too-familiar dead eyes and thousand-yard stares, ready to be done but slowed down by the Maine AT and too pig headed or Type-A to quit -- and a veritable flock of hammockers.I'm still not feeling 100 per cent but I'm back on trail and away from the vortex of comfort at the Farmhouse. Life is good.AT fact of the day: Tinned beetroot makes a poor substitute for beer.