Date: 2021-06-30
From: Stratton Rt 27 (mile 188.2)

To: Spaulding Mountain Lean-to (mile 201.7)
Miles today: 18.3
Weather: few clouds

The Two Jens cooked us a big breakfast at the Maine Roadhouse and we headed back to trail. Hope the Roadhouse becomes a success. They've done an amazing job and seem intent on doing whatever they can to make it an ideal hiker haven. Dave of Dad's Shuttles was sitting at the trailhead as he often does, waiting for hikers who need a ride to town for a small fee. He offered us some huge muffins a hiker had left with him, but I was too full and said the hikers coming in would enjoy them more. There's some tension between him and the hostel because the Jens are driving hikers in for free. But ultimately they should be helping each other out with referrals and slackpacking. A NOBO named Tall Son passed heading to town and then straight back on trail. Rather than a Nero (near zero) this is known as a Hero, because of the resolve it takes to leave town so quickly.A sectioner named Chris from Augusta, Maine was slowly plodding up the first hill to North Crocker. He could only finagle a few days off before he has to be back for Army National Guard duties for Independence Day. He's been working on completing the AT in Maine. His buddy was waiting at the summit when I arrived. He's an hour ahead of Chris on thisfive mile stretch. It's the first time they've hiked together so they don't know each other's paces yet. Viewmaster and Just Maine were taking in the view on top of South Crocker. They had successfully left Stratton yesterday after doing their own Hero and tented near the road. The climb up the Crockers was not bad. Mostly dirt trail. I cracked open the Coke I'd lugged up from town.I've decided to tag all the 4000 footers in Maine on this hike, since I've hit any that were on the way so far. Whether for the challenge, or to equalize things with the other SOBOs I'm trying not to outpace, or just for the fun of it I don't know. I had tagged all eight 4Ks in this section from Stratton to Rangeley on my thruhike last year so I knew exactly what I was getting into. First, from South Crocker, I followed a herd path to Mount Redington. Two and a half bonus miles. The path is not an official trail but is marked by ribbons and was not nearly as bad as the bushwhack path to Fort Mountain in Baxter. As I flew down the path I felt like a little kid, and the Appalachians were a giant playground. I went out and back in a little over an hour without my pack, and lost almost no blood!Got back on trail and started going downhill as expected. After a few minutes, though, the trail turned uphill. Odd, I thought it was downhill all the way to the river? It kept going up. I got a sinking feeling. I checked the GPS and sure enough I was headed north and was climbing North Crocker again. Augh! I laughed at myself. I was still in a great mood and this was more humorous than annoying. Only a half mile in the wrong direction, easily corrected. I turned around and climbed South Crocker - again! - and continued on steeply down to the Carabassett River.As I hit a rock slide, it began to shower. It ended after a few minutes but it made for slow going over wet rocks. The two section hikers stopped here for the day, before the steep climb up to Sugarloaf. "We're on vacation!" Chris called out and laughed.I rockhopped downstream a ways until I found boulders large enough to skinnydip behind. 15 days of swimming in a row! This was the only spot available today. Fortunately the sun came out and the water felt refreshing. Sugarloaf was a difficult climb. At one point the grade was gaining 2400 ft per mile. One jumble of rocks to climb after another. I put my poles away and just pulled myself up with my hands. I had grabbed extra water from the river and could feel the weight.Viewmaster and Just Maine were snacking near the top. Said Pappy had practically run downhill past them. "No wonder he hurt his knee before!" one said. I stopped for a quick lunch with them. They had tea time again today but I missed it. Up on the shoulder of Sugarloaf I found Alex and Pre-pack. It's been five days since Pappy and I left them to go to Caratunk. Alex is now Beach Day after his gaudy shorts and huge camp towel. Their tents were already set up. That last climb had been enough for Alex to call it a day. I dropped my pack and took the mile roundtrip side trail to the top of Sugarloaf. There are radio towers, a chairlift, a helicopter pad, and a large decrepit octagonal structure that may have been an old lodge. The wind picked up but wasn't as strong as the last time I was here. Waves of mist blew over the nearby mountaintops.I followed the AT for several miles to Spaulding Mountain but was getting tired. Thunder was rumbling in the distance. At the short side trail to the summit I found the girls' packs and passed them coming down. "I'm turning you into peakbaggers!" I cried. "There's no view up there!" Just Maine laughed. "I know, I know. I'm going to tag it anyway!" I replied.It started drizzling again when we got down. The thunder was closeing in. The rain soon picked up and became a downpour for several minutes. I struggled to pull on my poncho for the second time today. I was already soaked.Then began the longest mile of the hike to date. Everything was soaked and very slick. The dirt between the slippery rocks and roots was flooded so there were no good places to step. The trail was a mess. I slipped on some mud and jammed my knee into the pointy roots of a downed tree laying in the trail. Ouch! It started bleeding. I began cursing the weather, the trail maintainers, my luck, everything. I was in a mood. On top of the world this morning, ready to throttle somebody this evening. The AT is an emotional rollercoaster.Finally I reached Spaulding shelter and found Pappy and three northbounders. I was a miserable wet dog. I squeezed in, stiffening whenever the wind hit me in my wet clothes. When the two girls arrived we made more room. A full house tonight.