Date: 2010-09-04
From: 201 Caratunk

To: Joe's Hole Brook/Lynn's Cabin
Miles today: 13.0

04 September Saturday ¢ 13 miles to Joe¢s Hole Brook/Lynn¢s CabinThe decision to stay close to a roofed structure was very advantageous during the hurricane. There was an incredible amount of rainfall throughout the entire night. The rain started not long after I¢d pitched my tent. It fell in on itself, but I wasn¢t inside when it was crushed by the weight of the heavy rain. Because of the nature of the area, my tent wasn¢t properly pitched and it practically collapsed over night. The soil is fluffy and aerated which makes it virtually impossible to put tension on the stakes to keep my tent afloat. When the rain began it was obvious that I couldn¢t stay in there. I packed up my sleeping bag and tossed everything inside the abandoned cabin.From the inside of the cabin, my busted head lamp would only emit a small amount of red light. The dim red color of the inside of that rustic shelter gave me the creeps. It reminded me of the time that raccoon was attacking me in my tent. I felt like at any moment I¢d be sharing the shelter with all kinds of rabid evil creatures. The red light faded and I was left in the dark. I had no light. Nothing, I was completely in the dark with no where to turn. Here I¢m camped out illegally in a rusty shanty with a genuine hurricane pelting everything with buckets of pouring rain. I couldn¢t have been more afraid, but couldn¢t have been dryer.The old mildew covered rats nest of a mattress is my only comfort. I¢m alone, blind, and feeling like a rat in a hole in the wall. The cabins stinky soft feather bed is my only comfort, my teddy bear the darkness. The mattress smells so horribly, I don¢t even sleep on it. I pushed the bed into the corner as far as possible. The feathers are damp and it is heavy like a sack of bricks. I pushed it with my feet so I didn¢t have to touch it with my hands. I couldn¢t see anything. Everything is black and the rain sounds like a billion marching wild animals on the roof. I made enough room to sleep on the edge of the hard wooden platform. Lying in the dried Hantavirus piss of 100 mice, my heart finally begins to calm down. I know the roof will hold. It¢s not dripping, yet. I settle down and count my lucky stars that there is no wind blowing the rain into my shelter.When I awoke the rain had drastically changed in intensity. My tent was collapsed on the ground outside the cabin. The tent was not the place to be last night. I¢m glad that I ran for the hills before I drowned in my sleeping bag. My decision to squat in the cabin was a good one despite the questionable morality of trespassing on Northern Outdoors property. I was nervous as I packed up and walked out of the woods and back to the lodge. I convince myself that it wasn¢t as much of a moral decision as a necessary one. It was definitely a wise decision to take shelter in a permanent structure rather than a portable one. I tell myself that¢s what they get for selling me a room without a functional AC yesterday.I¢m drinking coffee and using the computer while watching crowds of weekend rafters at the lodge. I¢m surprised there are people here this morning. Tons of people have come to enjoy floating down the high waters of the Dead River and Kennebec. Tourists are in every corner of the building today.Sticks and I debate the weather. Weather is the topic of interest to everyone today. Will this hurricane stop us today? Are we really staying here another day? Sticks has already been here 4 days now. The weather prediction states that Earl will make a lunch time departure. Seeker talked with a section hiker last night about slackpacking us today. Roman Noodle is from Chapel Hill and she¢s completed the AT in sections. Roman Noodle is an RN and she broke both of her legs trying to finish the AT. I realize how lucky we are to thru-hike without injury as she tells stories about being evacuated from the Whites. We¢re so fortunate! But anyways, Roman Noodle offers to slackpack us north or south. I¢m not in the mood to return to the Northern Outdoors for another night so I turn down the offer.Everyone¢s worried about the rain outside, but I¢m excited that the environment feels comfortable today! It¢s cool and I¢m ready to go! I recall how hot it has been the last few days. I¢m looking forward to being cold and wet for a change. I¢m taking my 70 cent pop-tarts and hitting the road! The 9am shuttle arrives just in time to keep me from eating at the breakfast buffet. The Northern Outdoor center was good to me, but it¢s a money trap.The trail is as muddy and wet as you¢d expect it to be after a hurricane. Unfortunately my nice clean socks are ruined and soggy within the first hour of hiking. I had to cat walk over a flowing stream by holding onto an overhead limb. The log was as slippery as if it were covered in lithium grease. There was another stream crossing that I attempted to avoid by bushwhacking around. No way around the thing so I have to risk falling into the roaring creek. I walked over a Crisco coated log, completely free handed like a trapeze artist to the other side. My feet are wet but my body is cool and I¢m loving the nice change in atmosphere. The rain stops at 11am just before I reach the old logging road. Phantom¢s trail magic there brought my progress to a screeching halt with sodas and chips.Phantom is from Maine and he¢s thru-hiking. His friends are here with him today and they¢re providing us with snacks and good company. Snowman finished his thru-hike in early October but he started with Phantom. Snowman and Phantom are both from this area and they are old friends. Phantom is still hiking the trail and hopes to finish soon. Tents are hanging from trees all around. They are drying their shelters after the downpour last night. A few friends had cheap tents that became kiddie pools in the middle of the night. One of the Coleman tents had 1 inch of water in the bottom. The occupant of the leaky tent was floating on his air mattress. They even had sleeping bags up on a clothes line to dry. They are complete failures in wilderness survival techniques in hurricane conditions.They¢re cooking corn on the cob, hamburgers, hotdogs, and brats so I stick around until lunch is served. Phantom doesn¢t think any hikers will show up. I tell him he¢s mistaken, and that the hurricane made a lot of hikers hold up at the NO and on the other side of the Kennebec. Phantom leaves to get more supplies for his trail magic.Tree and Hot foot arrive just after Phantom left the scene! Great seeing them again! Tree stayed at Pierce Pond lean-to last night. I got an update on the whereabouts of Tour Guide and Kumquat. Not Bad is close by! Hot Foot told me that Not Bad¢s sister is hiking with her so I will see them soon. Tour Guide likes Not Bad¢s sister and we joke about him becoming ¢A Dad for Billy¢. Tour Guide doesn¢t seem to mind that Not Bad¢s sister has a child. Tour Guide doesn¢t look like step-father material but maybe he likes kids. Hot Foot and Kumquat became very ill at Zealand Hut. They both had a virus that left them with fevers in the middle of the Whites.Conan and Backward arrive shortly thereafter to Phantoms trail magic. Phantom arrives from town with a bag of hot dogs and buns. The supplies he purchased didn¢t last as long as I¢d hoped. I¢m carrying just enough pop-tarts and Snickers to get me to Monson. This trail magic is really helpful today. Ladybird and San Gabriel sat down not long before we got up to leave. The food is running out and we¢ve been here for hours already. Time to go!I hiked out with Hot Foot and Tree after I packed my freshly dried tent. My tent was still wet! The climb up Pleasant Pond Mountain was medium difficulty. We arrived at the summit while Compass and Southern were taking a break up there. I haven¢t seen Compass since Kincora. I tell Compass that I thought the 50 mile day he did into Damascus was pretty silly. Compass agreed. Compass has gained a lot of weight but he seems to be enjoying himself more. He has a football and a fly rod for entertainment. Compass and Southern have been taking their time lately and are having lots of fun. Southern is from Johnson City, Tennessee.We loiter on the summit of Pleasant Pond Mountain until a group of day hikers arrive with lots of redundant questions. As we get up to leave the father tells his son that we¢ve hiked hundreds of miles to get here. We correct him in unison as we pass by. We¢ve hiked ¢thousands¢ of miles to get here.Hot Foot and I get stuck hiking behind Southern. Gesus, he¢s slow. Southern is very timid on the slippery rocks and downhill. We¢re walking rightfully slow because we¢re sliding all over the mossy stone ground. Southern is as slow as a freight train though. I¢m going nuts walking behind him. Compass pointed out that they haven¢t been purists lately and probably lost their hiking legs in the process. I can tell that Southern has lost his sense of fearlessness. He¢s very timid and unsure of his steps. Hot Foot and I lean into the downhill and trust ourselves. Southern is holding back and it takes us a while to catch up with Tree and Compass.We¢re taking a break by a small spring and I talk to Compass about his fly fishing rod. He doesn¢t have a fishing license so he hides the rod in the water when anyone is nearby. The possibility of a game warden catching him fishing without a permit makes him nervous. He could loose all of his hiking gear if he gets caught. Compass is hoping to catch dinner out of Moxie Pond tonight.We¢re still sitting around the spring as the afternoon sunlight fades. An International SOBO thru-hiker (IAT) arrives while we¢re talking. The young man isn¢t wearing a shirt. The International Thru-hike is 4300 miles long. It begins in Canada and ends in Key West, Florida. The young hiker has an old external framed backpack that looks very heavy. The IAT begins 700 miles north of Katahdin. We¢re all very impressed by his determination and wonder how difficult it would be to complete such an adventure. The young man tells us his trail name as he walks away. He proudly announces that his name is ¢Fudge Packer¢! Gesus Christ!?!?We hike down to Moxie Pond road just in time to watch Compass trying to fish. His fly fishing technique is not very efficient yet, but he¢s learning. He tangled his line and hooked his red plaid skirt a few times, but no fish. Compass is wearing a kilt to complement his bright red beard and hair. I would assume that he¢s Irish, but maybe he¢s Scottish? Compass has one blue eye and one brown eye. He squints at you when he looks your way. I think he can barely see out of one eye. He turns his head sideways to look at you out of his strong eye. Compass is standing knee deep in Moxie Pond and he drops his rod in the water every time a car passes by. There¢s a dirt road just behind us.Hot Foot, Conan, Southern and I are tossing the football on the gravel road. I can¢t throw well anymore because of my busted shoulder. I broke my clavicle a while back and haven¢t been able to throw heavy objects since. Hot Foot is awesome at it though. We¢re chucking the ball when a car stops and talks to us. Two girls and a guy invite us up the road to stay at a nearby cabin and eat hotdogs tonight! Score! Sounds good to us! We¢d planned to hike to Bald Mountain lean-to tonight, but free food isn¢t easy to turn down.Lynn¢s grandparents own the campsite right across from Moxie Pond. They refer to the house sized cabin as a campsite here. I could live in this cabin. Lynn is nice enough to allow us to pitch our tents and stay the night. They¢re going to make us dinner and then cook bacon for breakfast. There are a group of 8 friends staying here at Lynn¢s cabin. They are all law students at Roger Williams University. They¢re all from Rhodes Island but frequently come here for summer vacations together. I ask if I can ride along on a trip to the store. I¢m excited to see this area in a vehicle. All the thru-hikers pick on me and tell me to ¢Ask if you can stick your head out of the window!¢ Secretly, I¢m hoping to find more than my gross Pop-Tarts to eat.I enjoy riding in cars. It¢s a lot easier to ride than to walk. I enjoy listening to music and having the wind in my face. The truck CD player is blasting Pink Floyd and I¢m in heaven. I try to listen to the driver as he yaks away, but I can¢t hear a word he¢s saying. The roaring wind and bumpy road are making it impossible for me to hear. He¢s saying a lot, but it¢s just a silent movie to me. I nod carelessly when I make out that he wants to be a Maritime Lawyer for a large oil company. After he makes a lot of money, then he hopes to do pro bono work for troubled kids. We talk about sailing and pirating. We arrived at the grocery store to find that it was closed. Nothing in the area is open on a Saturday night after 8pm. This is a weird area. This place is nothing like being in the city!We return empty handed to the campsite where everyone is making s¢mores. They spring the good stuff on us! We¢re using Reeses Cups and Graham Crackers for our desserts. Lynn is playing music on her mp3 player and I¢m in heaven. I picked ¢Tennessee Flat Top Box¢ by Johnny Cash. I¢d sing that song every day for a long time afterward. Nice campfire tonight! Beautiful stars and all the hotdogs and junk food we can eat. They even offered us peanut M&M¢s! One of the girls dropped a bag full of candy on the ground and was about to throw it in the trash. She didn¢t want to eat them off the ground, but the thru-hikers were there to save the sugary deliciousness from the landfill!