Date: 2021-06-29
From: Horns Pond Lean-to (mile 183.1)

To: Stratton Rt 27 (mile 188.2)
Miles today: 5.2
Weather: few clouds

It poured several times last night, but by morning the sky was blue and I was up at 5:30 with so much energy I was doing crunches and push-ups. Must be the cooler less humid air up here at 3000 feet. I got a lot of sun yesterday hanging out on Avery Peak and by Horns Pond which probably helped me sleep as well. Pappy hiked out while the girls Viewmaster and Just Maine were still asleep in the other lean-to. I detoured on the way out to Horns Pond for another dip. The water and air were both warm enough for it to feel refreshing. There are no more swimming opportunities between here and the highway so I had to keep the streak alive. 14 days and counting!After a little climb to a rocky overlook above Horns Pond, where I watched the mist curl up from the forest, the trail turned down steeply and dropped 2000 feet over the next two miles. Not quite as rocky as yesterday, and eventually it was mostly dirt trail. My destination, the Hostel of Maine, would be dropping hikers off at the trailhead at 7:30 and 9:30, a good time to catch a ride back. At this pace I'd be there around 8:30 but no matter. Maybe I'd hitch to the convenience store for second breakfast. A honey bun only goes so far. A little after 8 a northbounder passed me. He looked intense and didn't say much so I just assumed he'd been dropped off by the hostel at 7:30. Several minutes later two more northbounders appeared and I asked one how the hostel was. He gushed about it being all renovated, comfortable, huge, and having a steak dinner (that got my attention). But he wasn't talking about the Hostel of Maine. It was a new hostel called the Maine Roadhouse. I got the phone number from him but, having no service, wasn't sure how I'd find them. The hiker, Skeletor, had no idea where it was. I reached highway 27, which I'd been hearing for over an hour as large trucks occasionally whizzed past, and crossed over to the pull off with trailhead parking. To my delight I had one bar of service. I was just about to call the Roadhouse when a woman with purple hair who I'd seen wandering around the lot asked if I wanted a cold Gatorade. Wait, let me think, ... Yes! Please! There's nothing I want more in the world at this moment than a cold drink! You're my hero! Okay, I didn't get all that out but my delight was evident. She gave me a Snickers bar too. Her name was Jen, as was the other woman she was with. The Two Jens. And they weren't just doing trail magic, they were, you guessed it, from the Maine Roadhouse. Once Pappy appeared we were whisked through Stratton to a farmette several miles west of town where we found a large, extensively remodeled farmhouse with a huge bunkroom over an amazing rec room. Couches, ping pong, a large bar, woodstove, TV, all rustic wood paneling and quirky decor. The sixteen bunks all had real bed mattresses, curtains, personal fans and outlets, and lots of head room. There were private rooms somewhere but the bunk was practically a room. And the huge kitchen was ours to use as well. The Two Jens just opened the Roadhouse to hikers yesterday, and we are only the fourth and fifth guests. They were high school friends who got back in touch 30 years later and bought this place from a woman who had once thruhiked and also owns the now-closed Stratton Motel. The Roadhouse was once lodging for lumberjacks, then later a hiker hostel, before becoming a "grow house" (pot) and falling into disrepair and grime. The Jens and purple-haired Jen's father-in-law have spent the last year cleaning and fixing it up. Both have grown kids and had corporate jobs and suburban lives, but are now pursuing their dream on their own terms. They have plans for a backyard retreat with chickens and farm-to-table vegetables, fruit, and herbs. They just want to delight hikers, skiers, and canoers exploring the area's backcountry with home-baked treats and other personal touches.Pappy and I had the run of the place, hung out and played cornhole, were driven to town to resupply, and brought back veggies and steak to grill (for me, Pappy is a vegetarian). And an inexpensive Bourdeaux to celebrate 200 miles. I haven't said much about Pappy. He's a Merrill Lynch financial advisor from Chicago, originally Wilmington, North Carolina, ex-Marine, married with two daughters in their twenties, taking a sabbatical from work to "scratch an itch". I met him at the AT Lodge in Millinocket the night I flew in. He'd hurt his knee on his fourth day and come back to rest for a few days. It was a major disappointment after planning this hike for so long, but he rested, got a knee brace, and got back on trail. He takes the uphills nice and slow to go easy on the knee, but he can pump out the miles in the flatter areas. Already he's left many younger hikers behind, even as he prudently curtails his miles. We shared the wine with our hosts and gave them what advice we could to help them better understand hikers and be successful. With their commitment and the work they've already done I have no doubt the word will spread and this will become a must stop on the trail. I'll certainly be telling everyone about them.