Date: 2004-09-22
From: Route 27 near Stratton, ME

To: Across the Bigelow Range
Miles today: 15.3

It was early in the morning when I began walking out of tiny Stratton, Maine.I passed by a video rental store. A sign outside of it was hyping a couple of movies titled "First to Die" and "Man on Fire."I walked beside the road and stuck out my thumb. A few cars drove by, then a sheriff's patrol car pulled over. The passenger side window rolled down and the female officer leaned toward it. She asked me if I needed a ride to the trailhead. Moments later, I was sitting in the back of the patrol car enroute to The Appalachian Trail.The trail led me to the base of the Bigelow Range, a succession of peaks along a ridge.On the lower slope, the trail meandered around moss covered boulders, a few of them as big as a house. Spruces were the common tree in the forest. Higher up, the spruces were smaller. Some of the trunks were twisted. Moss blanketed the ground and covered the dead trees that had fallen. The trail crossed over several peaks that were above the tree line. I ate lunch on the summit of West Peak, the highest point at 4,145 feet. The scenery was spectacular. The mountain overlooked Flagstaff Lake, a large body of water.The terrain became difficult to hike on, with lots of rocks and steep inclines to contend with. My hiking pace slowed and I gradually became tired.I met a middle aged man who was hiking southbound and said, "I know you." He stopped and told me that he had flip flopped at Mount Katahdin. His name was Red dog. I told him that we had met once in a motel parking lot in Franklin, North Carolina, and once during the Trail Days festival in Damasus, Virgina.He told me that he was hoping to catch up to another hiker named Bluebird who had also flipped and was heading south in Vermont. I asked him to pass along my greetings to Bluebird, someone I had lost touch with. Red Dog advised me to replenish my water supply at a spring coming up. He told me that the rest of the ridge was dry.I detoured off of The Appalachian Trail and followed a spur trail to a spring. A small puddle of water lay inside a cavity on a rocky facade. The rock was dirty and there were bits of dirt and other natural debris floating on the water. This puddle was a poor choice for a source of drinking water, but I needed to replenish my supply. I heard a dripping of water further inside this cavity; this meant that that some fresh water was reaching the puddle. I refilled my bottle with water and held it up for viewing purposes. Dirt and debris were floating inside of it. The chemicals disinfected the water, but it was not appealing.A short ways up the trail, I came upon another spring; this was apparently the spring which the hiker had been referring to. The water was cleaner than at the previous source. I dumped out the water in my bottle and added this clearer water. Too bad I had wasted time and energy detouring down a spur trail.The ridge dropped in elevation and the character of the forest and terrain changed. There were more deciduous trees. In some places, the trail led me along a succession of short ups and downs, some of them rocky and steep.And then the trail ascended back to the higher elevation.These constant fluctuations in elevation and the steep inclines had me growing tired.Late in the day, I arrived at Little Bigelow Lean-to. (Up north, shelters are called lean-to's). It was occupied by Arc, a hiker I met yesterday back in Stratton. We chatted as I cooked and ate supper. By the time I finished cleaning my cooking pot, it was almost dark out.The outhouse here has two holes and two toilet seats in the same room. It has two windows. One of the windows has a curtain. The shape of a crescent moon is carved in the door. I have seen this crescent moon on the doors of other outhouses. I don't know why this moon is carved into so many outhouses.I am sleeping tonight in the lean-to. I am too tired to bother with setting up the hammock.There are insects harassing me as I compose this entry in the back of the shelter. The bugs are being drawn in by the illumination of my headlamp. Some of these bugs are "no-see-ums." I hope they don't persist in their attacks when my light is turned off.There has been something moving in the rafters. It might be a mouse but I suspect that it is a chipmunk.A steady breeze is passing through the forest; it is cool and comfortable. I will sleep well tonight.