Date: 2004-10-09
From: Kathadin Stream Campground

To: Baxter Peak 
Miles today: 5.2

Sunrise Over The Knife's Edge - From Baxter PeakStart: Kathadin Stream Campground, Shelter 11 @ 0208Finish: Baxter Peak @ 0555 (left summit at 0930, finished at Roaring Brook shortly after 3:00pm)Miles: 5.2Weather: Incredible. Beautiful sunrise. A warm night and first few miles up K. Temps cooled and winds kicked up around Hunts Spur. 30 to 40 mile per hour winds on the summit temps in the high 40¢s low 50¢s. Dense clouds at 2,000 ft. level. Cloudy at 8,000 ft. Unseasonably warm (high 60¢s low 70¢s) at lower elevations and sunny in the afternoon/eveningBreakfast: 4 chocolate poptarts, Krispy KremesLunch: Fudge rounds, Snickers, cookie bar, Oat n' HoneyDinner: Salad, chicken tenders, mashed potatoes, fish chowder. (Barfed it up later)Trail Conditions: Dark. First 1.5 miles were easy, so was last 1.5 miles. The two miles in the middle of the climb were intense, but it didn¢t seem to be the hardest I¢ve done. Awesome rock scrambles that were quite exposedAnimals: Birds, squirrels, frogsPeople: Officer Taco, Momma¢s Boy, weekenders, Colby group, Sophie from Colby, mom & dadSummit Day: Part OneSometime after midnight we decided we should get some sleep. After not even after a minute of silence I ripped a huge fart and we laughed hysterically. We began the count down. The earliest I could leave for the summit was 0200 so I decided I wanted to be on my way up by 0215, We continued the banter and at 0130 we began packing and ate breakfast-the last pop tarts of the AT for me.Shortly after 0200 I hit the trail and began the final climb. We moseyed down the trail several hundred yards and signed in that we were heading to the summit. We were the first people leaving for the day. Hey someone has to lead, might as well be me.I had been thinking about this day for so long, and it had all but consumed my thoughts every hour of the day over the course of the past week. I have selfishly wanted the trail to myself for the past month, especially this past week. Even more so, I wanted the summit of Katahdin to myself-and if someone was going to be up there with me it would be by my invitation and on my terms. Selfish, selfish, and proud of it. After all, it is the end of 2,174 miles of walking. I want the spotlight. That was my attitude, and part of the reason I opted for such an early start-to have the summit to myself for awhile-and catch a stellar sunrise.Also I had wanted to summit the K-Rock alone or with only a handful of other people I had been on the trail with. I¢m so glad to have been behind the huge pack that was ahead of me. Heck, I¢m glad I didn¢t ever end up seeing any of them before I left (minus Ranger Jan and the Blues Brothers) because I didn¢t want to be surrounded by a bunch of partiers and yellow-blazers. Ah yes, the Big K, and I was finally on it and my selfish wishes had been granted.The first mile or so of the trail was gravy, all the way to Katahdin Falls. I felt a bit groggy as I had been up nearly 24 hour and had a bit of a headache from all the sweets I¢d been eating that afternoon, evening, and night. But there were no worries, just work thru it. Navigating the Boulders of KatahdinI have really come to love night hiking and was happy to be doing Katahdin in the dark. The inky blackness did not let me know where on the mountain I was. Viewpoints were non-existent, and drop-offs became never ending abysses-as I could not see further than ten feet down before pure blackness. I Don't Care who you are...That's Dark!At some point the trail really became steep, but I honestly did not take much notice of that. I had fallen into a quick rhythm and concentrated only on the terrain illuminated by my headlamp. We lumbered along up the rocky trail, which progressively turned more and more technical. The trees grew shorter and shorter, a breeze began to kick up, and it became much colder. We stopped momentarily at a flat spot to layer up. It had been so warm and humid that I hadn¢t even been wearing a shirt. But I finally reached a point where a shirt was necessary.Layered up, I turned my headlamp off and Ben his. To my left was the trail thru a jumble of boulders, to my right was an expansive void filled only by the black of night. My eyes adjusted and I set my gaze upon the stars. I just stood there devoid of any profound thought and felt rogue gusts of wind blow against me. After sometime I flicked my headlamp back on and in silence turned to begin climbing once more. Savoring the Final HoursAs I continued to move I wondered to myself why I was hiking so fast. Why not just slow down and savor the occasion. After all, it is going to be the only time I ma going to be on Katahdin at the end of a thru hike. But then again, it also felt that I was only out for another days hike. All I was doing was walking up to a wooden sign. Right?The climb continues to grow more and more technical. I found myself scrambling up and over, then down huge boulders. Stepping carefully so as not to fall or get hurt. Rebar was pounded in the rock in places for hand and foot holds. Ben and I hardly exchanged words, only the occasional grunts from exertion could be heard over the howling wind.We arrived at the cave around 3:40AM and stopped to rest. Huge monolithic rock formations towered above me, at least 50 feet. We dropped our packs, grabbed some snacks, and parked it on a rock outcropping. For the first time all night the moon began to illuminate the valley below. A steady wind was now blowing about 20 miles per hour and brought a dull chill to the air. The valley below was completely shrouded in clouds. As I looked up the mountain, the moon cast and eerie glow over the horizon, hazy from the pre-dawn moisture that hung in the air. I just sat there and soaked up the moment.I kept looking at the time as I moved up Katahdin. Part of me wanted to race up to the summit meeting my goal of ¢X¢ miles per hour. The other part just wanted to go at a leisurely pace and arrive when I arrive. But I also didn¢t want to miss the sunrise, which starts around 0600. When I arrived at the Tablelands I just said ¢arrive when I arrive¢.The Tablelands were spectacular even in the dark. The half-moon hung overhead in a pre-dawn haze. It illuminated the Tablelands enough to silhouette the craggy rock field thru which we walked. The wind had really begun to pick up to around 30 miles per hour and the temperature noticeably drooped in the pre-dawn hours. Shortly after passing Thoreau Spring, which was nothing but a small mud puddle, I stopped the train and donned warmer clothes before the final stretch to the A-Frame. Hiking the Tablelands I methodically unlaced my boots and took them off my feet shaking out the rogue pebbles. In a very slow and concentrated effort I removed my pant legs and wind stopper shirt, hat, and gloves from my pack. By the time I had sorted these items out, Ben was already layered up and ready to go. Truth be told, I didn¢t really want to go anywhere, I had only a mile to go, I wanted to somehow delay the inevitable. With a noticeable degree of reluctance I got suited up, harnessed my pack and headed toward the outline of Baxter Peak.During daylight hours, they say you can see the A-Frame and rock cairn from at least a mile away. For some reason I thought that rule applied for when it was dark too. It didn¢t. I began pestering Ben. ¢Dude, what direction is the sign in?¢, ¢Do you think that lump on the horizon is it?¢, ¢Is the sign big?¢, ¢With it being dark how close will I have to be before I can see it?¢ My litany of questions, was alone, more than we had conversed the whole way up. Finally I got the drifty that Ben didn¢t have a clue to the exact location of the sign, or maybe he did and didn¢t want to ruin the surprise.All I can remember now though is walking with my nose to the grindstone and looking up and seeing the A-Frame about 20 yards ahead, outline by the brilliant orange of the pre-dawn horizon.For months I had been playing scenarios out in my head about how this moment would be and what I should do and how I¢d react. Scenario A was that I would see the sign and with a jubilant yell toss my poles in the air and run to the sign collapsing on it. Scenario B was that in a dramatic pose I would drop my trekking poles at my side and stagger to the sign all teary-eyed relieved that the arduous journey was over. That some burden would be lifted from my shoulders.Honestly, when I saw the sign I was devoid of emotion. It seemed more the destination of my days hike, which had been short and sweet, rather than the terminus of a 2,174 mile long foot trail I had been hiking for a 168 days. What I felt was hungry, tired, and cold as I approached the sign. I didn¢t feel it, but I knew it was the end. So I opted for scenario A. I let out a series of triumphant screams as I made my final steps to the sign and hurled my beat up Leki and bent ski pole high in the air above me, and then watched them fly off the backside of Baxter Peak as a 50-mile wind gust hit them. Dang was all I could think to say. There go my poles. 5:55am - Baxter Peak - Northern Terminus of the A.T.I put my hands on the A-frame and admired it in the fading darkness. Etched, and cracked and weathered from it¢s constant exposure to the elements. It was the A-frame I had seen in so many pictures and had heard so much about. And there I was starring it down at the end of the thru hike.Cold beads of moisture had condensed on the sign throughout the night. My fingers became numb from the wet cold, combined with the 40 to 50 mile per hour winds that were now raking across the summit. The horizon burned a fiery orange glow as our hemisphere aligned with the sun. Overhead the stars from the night sky still shown brightly against the black cloth of night. In between the fiery horizon and the starlight night was this amazing section of amorphous sky, unlike anything I have ever seen. It was a dark yet translucent blue flecked with the occasional fading star. It seemed as though it was a gateway to another realm that could only exist in my imagination. There I was, atop an incredible mountain, viewing three phases of day. I doubt I will ever see anything like it again.After taking in the moment it was back to the issues at hand: I was cold and my trekking poles got blown over the side of Katahdin. Ben and I found a rock pile a few yards away and dropped our packs. We knelled down, and Ben starting rummaging for the Krispy Kremes, and I started out on a mission to see if I could recover my trekking poles.I peered over the backside of Baxter Peak, and about 30 feet down, just before the mountain plummets I to nothingness, lay my Leki and beat-up ski pole. I cautiously made my way toward them and successfully retrieved them. Poles in hand I began working my way back up. No sooner than I started moving I racked my shin on a rock. I doubled over in pain and almost wretched it hurt so badly. I cursed under my breath and rolled up my pant leg to see about 6 inches of my shin cut, bloody, and bruised.It was around 0630 and we tried taking pictures, however, there simply was not enough light and they were quite fuzzy. Even with the flash the pics weren¢t turning out good. So, Ben and I ceremoniously feasted on our Krispy Kremes and stared in awe at the spectacular sights. It was so nice to have the summit all to myself, along with Ben. I didn¢t want the moment to be any other way.Close to an hour went by of our being in the wind and we were both getting uncomfortably cold. We pulled out our sleeping bags and got out of the wind by descending a few feet down the backside of Katahdin. Ben found a flat spot and was sawing logs in a matter of minutes. I found a comfortable perch on a rock that jutted out several feet from Katahdin. I stood on it starring into the pillowy layer of clouds in the gulf below. The sun had just worked its way over the Knife¢s Edge, and the ridges black silhouette contrasted sharply with the clouds that reached to the horizon. Katahdin Sunrise 1 Katahdin Sunrise 2As I stood there it registered. I was done. Some feeling, albeit far from overwhelming, overcame me, and I started to get choked up. I felt far sadder than I did happy and more humble than I did proud. A few tears streaked down my face, before I composed myself. I sat down on my perch, wrapped myself in my sleeping bag, and with one eye open took a much needed nap. View from Back of Katahdin - Rock in the foreground was my perchI hardly slept soundly, but I slept enough to feel a bit more rested. The problem with where I was perched, was that if I rolled a foot to my right or left I would fall, tumble down the boulders like a rag doll, and then plummet a couple of grand into the gulf. After about an hour rest, it was light enough to start taking good pictures. Even cooler is that it was shortly after 0800 and we still had the summit to ourselves!I¢ve always been anal about taking good photographs and really stepped up my pickiness for this occasion. I swear I was barking out orders to Ben on how to frame every picture with me in it. Which, of course, lead to an all out banter fest and some good laughs. I got tons of pictures taken of me at the A-frame. Kneeling on top of it, standing next to it, standing behind, funny poses, serious poses, and poses with an oven mitt. All in all, I got enough good pictures for a whole lot of memories. The A-Frame Me and the A-Frame Go Big or Go Home Me & O.T. Eating Krispy Kremes Ready for the Knife's EdgeBy the time the photo shoot was over it was nearing 0900 and regrettably other hikers began to populate Katahdin¢s summit. Actually hoards of day hikers could be seen traipsing over the Tablelands and scampering on the Knife¢s Edge in route to my summit. There were about 15 hikers at the summit already.As Ben and I were beginning to gear up for the descent, via the Knifes Edge, I remembered that I needed to add my Springer rock to the Cairn. I pulled out my nugget-sized rock, flecked with mica, and a brownish-orange color from dry Georgia clay and placed it atop the Cairn. My little piece of history to add to the mountain.Unexpectedly, Momma¢s Boy showed up to the summit. It was great to see him, as I thought he would have finished on the 10th. We exchanged a congratulatory handshake, snapped some pictures, and gave Katahdin a little bit of West Michigan love. Momma's Boy (left) & MeFinally, after 3-1/2 hours on the summit, the majority of them to myself, we began a new hike on the Knifes Edge.Summit Day: Part TwoI suppose I can consider my hike along the Knifes Edge to be some of the diciest hiking I have ever done, aside from my experience on Franconia Ridge. Being the detail minded person I am, I can¢t help but consider my hike on the Knifes Edge to be separate from my entire journey on the AT. Thus, the Knifes Edge is the second spookiest experience of my life.Really, the Knifes Edge has all the makings for an extraordinary hiking experience. Spectacular views, rugged terrain, and guaranteed serious injury if you fell off the trail. The hike started with an immediate climb over a jumble of rocks, and then dipped into a small saddle from which you could see the entire ridge. Far in the distance, at the other end of the ridge, I could see hikers moving towards us. They looked to be nothing more than ants moving in an orderly fashion. It was an incredible sight.Even more spectacular was the immense size of Mt. Katahdin. Viewed from the backside, it is just absolutely "ginormous". The backside of the mountain is like a deep-sided dish with the bottom being Chimney Lake. The sides of Katahdin tower up thousands of feet, at a near vertical angle. It is a mountain that has truly been hardened over the geologic eons, and is unlike any other I have ever seen in person.The trail was incredibly narrow in places ¢ not much wider than 2 feet. On the left the mountain literally plummeted several thousand vertical feet. To the right the drop-off was a bit more gradual. Due to the treacherous conditions we timed our hike on the ridge so we were well spaced between groups going our direction. That eliminated some bottlenecking and allowed us to move at a conservative pace, without feeling pressured.I trotted along sure-footedly and enjoyed the views along the way. The wind really began to pick up and easily gusted above 50 mph, as at points I would have to brace myself from being blown over. Despite the high winds, a dense layer of clouds still blanketed the valley to my right, several thousand feet below. It was incredible. At certain points the clouds were removed from the mountain so you could see the valley below the cloud line. Meanwhile, inside the dish behind Katahdin there were no clouds and I could clearly see Chimney Pond.About half way across we encountered our first group of hikers coming the opposite direction. We stopped and hollered to them that they could pass us first, as the ridge was so narrow at that particular point. The winds were really blowing and I had a nervous flutter in my stomach. Ben seemed a bit uncomfortable with the rock climbing/scrambling.We passed on and as we neared the end of the ridge we encountered an incredibly steep gap that we had to descend into and immediately climb out of again. It was so long, steep and narrow that you could only go one person at a time and had to shout below you as you couldn¢t see if someone was climbing or not. It was hairy. Across the gap I could see some people descending the other side. It was spooky, as there was a very serious potential for getting seriously injured if you fell.From my side the descent was a good 60 feet of technical rock scramble. I would rate it a 5 to 6. Any steeper and I would have wanted my climbing gear. I made my way down with precarious steps ¢ sliding on my butt, crawling, and controlled hops. My poles were in the way so I chucked them into the gap twenty feet below. I don¢t know how long it took me to negotiate the descent as I was so focused, but I imagine it was 5 to 10 minutes.Ben and I got down into the gap and rested briefly as we starred at the steep rock climb ahead. I was totally stoked to assault the rock and had Ben record my climb on my camera. I scurried up the face at a good clip pausing between steps when the wind picked up. I reached a ledge about 50 feet up that was substantial enough for me to turn around and stand on. I helped Ben negotiate the climb and tossed out some climbing technique to him.Finally, after that last great climb we reached the end of the Knifes Edge trail and it¢s intersection with the Helen Taylor trail, which would lead us off Katahdin. Standing at the trail junction, I could see our route for descent all the way into the valley and below the clouds that still cloaked the forest ¢ even in the afternoon. The wind had really kicked up and was easily gusting around 60 mph, as I had to drop my weight and brace myself to remain standing.We began the descent down the Helen Taylor trail. We headed down towards the clouds and the several large groups of people ahead of us. The trail was very rocky and steep. It was very similar in difficulty to the descent into Pinkham Notch from the backside of Mt. Madison. As we continued down we ran into a group of college girls from Colby College in Colby, Maine. We ate lunch with them and I told macho stories of my hiking exploits. Sitting with a bunch of good-looking girls that liked to hike is plenty good, but what made it even better was that they gave me food! Spiffy.We had the gals take a couple of photos of Ben and me and then we parted ways. We hit tree line and the trail just seemed to plunge downwards. It was phenomenally steep and my knees felt like they were on fire. It ended up turning into on of those hikes that never seem to end. Ben and I were tired and starting to get grouchy so we stopped and ate. After about another hour of hiking we hit level ground and moseyed on into Roaring Brook Campground to meet the folks.The sun was out and the setting was gorgeous. The parents were out on a day hike so we claimed a picnic table and took a much needed rest. As I was chillin¢ one of the Colby girls (Sophie) walked by wearing a bright orange hat that said ¢Maine¢ on it. It was too cool, and she was nice enough to even give it to me! Thanks Sophie, it¢s a great souvenir.After about 40 minutes of waiting the folks made their appearance. They had the good fortune of seeing 5 or 6 moose on their hike. Beginner¢s luck I suppose that they saw so many, and I only saw one the entire trip. Anyways, we took some photos, loaded up the mini, and headed out of Baxter State Park.SUMMIT DAY: PART THREEIt was on the drive out of Baxter State Park that it hit me. The mini was loaded up with my gear and we bounced along the dirt road under the shade and canopy of the changing trees. We reached Katahdin Stream Campground and instead of turning in we went straight, now driving that tiny stretch of AT on the road. Ben was joking and the parents were chatting and I just sat there with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Then on the CD player ¢The River¢ by Garth Brooks came on and as I listened to the lyrics each word seem to just puncture my soul and I just welled up a cried. Ben stopped joking to me, and all I could say to him between subdued sobs was ¢listen to the words¢. I did my best to contain myself but it was a realization that I was done with the trip. That¢s all.THE RIVER, by Garth BrooksYou know a dream is like a riverEver changin' as it flowsAnd a dreamer's just a vesselThat must follow where it goesTrying to learn from what's behind youAnd never knowing what's in storeMakes each day a constant battleJust to stay between the shores.And I will sail my vessel'til the river runs dryLike a bird upon the windThese waters are my skyI'll never reach my destinationIf I never trySo I will sail my vessel'til the river runs dryToo many times we stand asideAnd let the waters slip away'til what we put off 'til tomorrowHas now become todaySo don't you sit upon the shorelineAnd say you're satisfiedChoose to chance the rapidsAnd dare to dance the tideAnd there's bound to be rough watersAnd I know I¢ll take some fallsBut with the good lord as my captainI can make it through them allYes, I will sail my vessel'til the river runs dry'til the river runs dryWe made our way out of the park and went in route to Millinocket. My parents had rented two rooms ¢ one for them and one for Ben and me. Ben and I caught a few winks in route to town and lethargically unloaded our stuff when we got to the motel. The first thing on my list was taking a shower (much needed as always.) It was the last time I would need to wash down three times and clear a massive wad of hair and pine needles out of the drain. A truly odd and nostalgic moment.After getting cleaned up I uploaded my photos onto my laptop and we all checked them out. They were great to see. Afterwards we went out to dinner at the Appalachian Inn where I indulged myself with a basket of chicken tenders. Back at the motel I was chillin¢ with OT watching the tube when I started feeling all nauseous. I stumbled to the bathroom and projectile vomited everything had eaten! I felt just miserable. Mom came over, and in that nurturing way made me feel a heck of a lot better. Shortly after the barf-o-rama I passed out exhausted from a long day.So all in all, that concludes the story of my journey hiking the Appalachian Trail. 2,174.1 miles of hiking along the east coast from Georgia to Maine. It¢s hard to believe, its crazy to think about, its one long ass haul, and I am proud to the core that I did every bit of it!