Date: 2005-09-28
From: Chimney Pound Campsite

To: Baxter Peak, Mt. Katahdin
Miles today: 22.2
Weather: few clouds

A most fantastic day on the trail - by far, the best yet!I was up early, but waited until about 7:30 to leave for the summit. I wanted to double-check the weather report that the Ranger posts each morning at 7 am, but I was also keen not to be too far ahead of Maria (who was hiking up from Roaring Brook Campgrounds about 2 hours further down the mountain), since it was going to be VERY important to have someone else with me to take photos of my arrival at the top. I wasn't sure how cold and windy it might be once I reached the table lands - the last mile of trail before reaching Baxter Peak, and there was always the chance that it would be too cold to stand around waiting for my friends coming up the Hunt Trail from the other side. I had no idea how soon they might arrive, and it was even possible that they might have decided to start out before dawn and thus, conceivably, could have been there and gone before I even arrived.I must say that I had quite mixed emotions as I began the hike up the Saddle Trail from Chimney Pond. I let my mind wonder back over the past six months, flitting over images of the trail, of the people, of the towns, of the vistas, of the food and the fellowship, the trials and tribulations, the best parts and the (incredibly few) bad parts. It has been such an incredible experience that there was just too much to think about systematically, so for the first part of the hike up, I just let the reminiscences flow in a random order.The hike up was only 2.2 miles, of which the last was a mile of relatively flat table lands, and the first was a mile of relatively steady and relatively steep ups (some hiking, some rock scrambles, but no real rock climbs), with the two sections connected by about two tenths of a mile that consisted of an previous rock slide. This was the only section that gave any cause for concern, as most of the rocks that I had to climb up through were simply not anchored to anything. It occurred to me that it might be somewhat harder coming down the same path, but I decided to worry about that later. I figured if I could make it up, I could make it down, and would just have to go slow and take it easy. I was absolutely convinced, however, that I had made the right decision about what trail to take to the summit. After struggling up through the rock slide, and reaching the sign that said only 1.0 miles to Baxter Peak, I began to get really excited about reaching the end-point of this major section of the trail. It was easy going, and the trail was well marked, but what made the experience especially wonderful was the weather: Clear blue skies, almost no wind, and temperatures in the 50's! I could see for a very long distance, and was sooooooo very much into counting my blessings that we had reached for the top on a picture perfect day. It just all felt SO RIGHT - a kind of affirmation of everything I have said from that first day out of Springer Mountain: that this trail and this experience is where I am supposed to be at this time of my life.I also could not help but reflect, as I continued across the table lands, on the countless kindnesses that had come my way, and especially of the tremendous support and encouragement I have had from so many people - starting with She-who-knows-me-best-and-still-loves-me. The feelings were almost overwhelming, and I'm not at all reluctant to admit that I was kind of tearing up as I moved closer and closer to my goal.After reaching a plateau near the top, I looked up the trail and could see, siloutted against the horizon, what I knew could only be that famous sign at the very top - the brown sign that tells arrivals that they have reached the end of the Appalachian Trail. I stopped to take a picture from that distance, and then quicken my step, my heart singing with enormous feelings of relief and joy - relief that I had finally made it through the very toughest part of the journey intact and was not going to be denied the victory of a Katahdin summit, and joy from the sheer magnitude of what I had managed to accomplish - even though I have a few more miles to complete before the journey is done.Before I knew it, there it was! I was standing in front of it. I immediately took a picture with my disposable camera (I wasn't sure my digital camera battery was going to cooperate), and then used the digital camera as well. I also used both cameras to do a 12-shot 360 degree record of the horizon from the top, noticing, as I finished my circle of photos, that another hiker had just arrived. It was Swifty, a NOBO who had come up the Hunt trail. We were equally thrilled to see each other, and did the usual high-fives before approaching the sign, endowing it with the traditional kiss, and then making fools of ourselves as we took each others pictures in various poses in front and back of that wonderous wooden icon.I had photos taken of me with my hiking poles aloft, hugging the sign, wearing my bunny ears (the same ones I wore that first night at Hawk Mountain Shelter near Springer), and again later after I had changed into a winter had and my wind-breaker, as by then the wind was starting to pick up again.Within 10 minutes, Hare Ball showed up, and we took more photos of and with her. She was equally thrilled, of course.I was really hoping that Mouth and the gang would get there, but Swifty said they were about an hour behind him, so I finally decided not to wait. I had 5.5 miles to go to get back to Roaring Brook, and it was already 11 am. I wasn't sure how long it might take me to work my way down that rock slide, and then, after reaching the parking lot at the bottom, how long it would take to hitch a ride into Minanocket, the town where I would meet up with friends and spend the night. Regretfully - since I had really wanted summit photos with Mouth, having started out the same day from Springer last March 13, but alas, it was not to be. I started down.My heart was light, and I tried not to think about the rock slide, as I didn't want to spoil my mood. As my wife is known to say, I worry too much. I tried to relax and just enjoy the day, and mostly that worked.When I reached the rock slide, it looked less intimidating somehow than when I went up it, and - to make a long story short - I did not have much difficulty reaching the bottom. I did manage to loose a small rockslide of my own, with a couple of larger rocks richochetting off my left leg, but with no major damage done. Before I knew it, I was at Chimney Pond, collecting the gear that I had left behind for the summit hike, and then it was off again down to Roaring Brook and the parking lot. I floated most of the way, the feelings of elation and joy staying with me all the way.At the parking lot, it took about 3 minutes to Yogi a ride, and before I knew it I was checking into the local motel. Within an hour, Hare Ball showed up, and within another hour, Mouth was there. We had dinner and a beer (or two) and then crashed. It had been an incredible day - clearly one of the best of my entire life. Before going to bed I called home and talked to my wife, to share the joy with her, and to thank her for making it all possible. I will be driving south tomorrow morning, dropping Mouth off in York, Pa. and then taking a few days off before resuming my journing back in Cheshire, Mass, on Tuesday of next week. I will, of course, continue the journal as well as the journey, so....Stay tuned! And we thank you ALL for your support and encouragement.