Date: 2008-10-04
From: Rainbow Lake

To: The Birches
Miles today: 17.7
Weather: overcast clouds

I woke up and had breakfast once again in my tent while still enjoying the warmth of my bag. The moment of truth in putting on my cold wet clothes paled in comparison, to the other moment of truth, in which I had to say goodbye to Y & Vigil Auntie. It would be a while if ever, until we see each other again.As uncertain as life can be, we dared, we shared and in a group hug we said goodbye or as I prefer...until?The trail was quiet today, the frigid air helped numb the pain that I was carrying inside. When I did run into Bad Wheels it was warm and humbling. I hadn't seen him since we were in a shelter taking a break and waiting out a wicked thunder storm just before heading down into Kent Connecticut, some 700 miles ago.It was good to see him, especially knowing the physical challenges he has had to suffer with and endure and yet here he is, in it to the end. As I looked into his face, I noticed some changes, not only in appearrance but in his expression as well, especially the eyes. In a good way, he seems a little different, or is it me that is different? Regardless, when we shook hands, we shook hands as brothers. Fare well Pilgrim.The next few miles passed while I was deep in thought, until I reached the Abol Bridge. Halfway across, I stood looking to my left and staring at the Great Mountain that had lured me into walking over 2000 miles. I stood there for several moments just staring, the top was covered in a thick cloud system, but there it was.I walked on across the bridge and stopped at the camp store on the other side. Inside was the usual stuff that once made my eyes wide and my mouth water, but for some reason, now it had no appeal? I did buy a 6 pack of Bud to carry for celebration with the others, once we stopped for the day. Just down the road and into the woods, I would reach the Baxter State Park boundry. From there I would walk 10 more miles until I reached the base of the Great Mountain.I couldn't fully process the moment, so I just continued walking. There was a notice on an information board that advised hikers to take the alternate blazed trail, due to the dangers of high water. There also was a form for thru-hikers to register in order to spend the night at the Birches.I chose to stick with the White Blazes and continued on.The trail soon followed the river and during the next few miles I had come to two seperate streams that needed to be forded. They posed exceptional challenge, it was raining now, and the rains of the past week had turned the streams into turbulant, raging water moving like a freight train through scattered rock and debris of fallen timber.I unfastened my hip belt and carefully made my way across rock and fallen trees. If I fell in, it would be doubtful that I could recover? Second chances would be considered nothing less than a miracle. I must admit however, it did add to the excitement and I wouldn't want it any other way.I soon came in contact with people on the trail and new I was getting close to something? The trail came out onto a narrow road and I followed it a piece before entering the Katahdin Stream Campground. I saw what appearred to be a Ranger station and headed that way. I registered in with Ranger Bruce White and was number #398 NOBO. ( North Bounder) Afterward, I was informed that the trail up to Katahdin was closed! I felt stunned, those simple words hit me like a bullet. It was closed yesterday, due to weather and the fact that Katahdin is covered in snow & ice up top. In fact the night before, a Search and Rescue team brought down a hiker with a broken leg.Ranger White said check back in the morning, but he has serious doubts that it will be reopened? Well, hope is better than no hope, I remained optimistic and just before leaving, I signed the hiker register.From here I walked a few minutes to the "Birches". This is a private campsite for arriving thru-hikers to spend one night before summitting Katahdin the next morning. The Birches consisted of a large fire pit and two small shelters side by side. Freckles and Sprite were there and though it was cold, we each cracked open a cold one and toasted to our arrival, as we stood at the base of Katahdin.About that time a face appearred that I had met only once in what seemed like a life time ago. It was "Flutterby", She was a friend of Banjo's who drove down to just north of Atkins Virginia some 1500 miles ago and provided a day of Trail Magic. A former thru-hiker herself, she lives in Maine and came to bring congratulaions and well wishes to those who were here. She only stayed a few moments then left.It's hard to describe what I'm feeling, I'm sure it's the same for Sprite & Freckles as well? It's hard to grasp that we are actually here and have literally walked 2,171 miles with only 5.2 miles remaining to climb Katahdin.Way back at the beginning, which seems so long ago and at the same time like it was only yesterday, I wondered how this moment would feel? There are 4 others in the next shelter, the only one that I knew was "Motor Butt". Only Freckles and I were in this one, Sprite was tenting a few yards away. We spent the next little while eating, drinking and talking. Talk of "after" and finality in anyway, seemed to be avoided subjects, and none of us were accepting to entertain the possibility of not being able to complete our hike and climb Katahdin.The October air in Maine was here and as the night fell, so did the mercury.Laying in the darkness, I just couldn't fall asleep. I didn't want this day to end which really meant I didn't want this trip to end. A few times during the night a mouse was scurring back and forth and scratching in a cavity of the log at my head. It was loud and annoying, it woke us up. In the middle of the night, the stillness was interrupted each time I pounded against the log. This would result in Freckles and I talking for a little while. A mouse, a fitting shelter tribute, I was welcomed by one the first night on the AT, at Hawk Mtn. Shelter in Georgia and now I'm being bid farewell by another, here at the Birches in Maine.