Date: 2003-09-15
From: White House Landing (Mahar Tote Rd)

To: Rainbow Stream Leanto
Miles today: 15.8
Weather: clear sky

Gazelle and Sidekick rose early, to take a canoe and a fishing pole out to the point of rocks where a clear view of Katahdin could be had. I smiled to myself - they "got" it. Here they were, thundering to the conclusion of a decades-long section hike, and they were still getting up early to see the sun rise over the lake.I sat on the lodge's porch swing and swung, watching the dawn mists rise off the rocky point. The sky turned from pink to grey to baby blue; the loons voiced their opinion on the matter. The chocolate lab, Pooh Bear, sighed at my feet. Wonderful smells spilled out of the kitchen, prompting my stomach to growl periodically.After awhile, the lodge opened for coffee, then large food-laden platters started appearing - bacon, OJ, english muffins, scrambled eggs, blueberry pancakes. After breakfast, Biscuit and Red Beard assembled a picture of all those of us who had intersected at that fateful Trailfest in Hot Springs in April, 2001: Homeless and Unemployed, Dig, me, and their two selves. I gave H&H and Dig the Maine phone number and address for Philosophy (Wendy) and Web (Josh). They were planning to look them up on the way home.A boatride later, and we are all out, hiking our separate ways. The Trail winds along Nahmakanta Stream for quite awhile. I sit on a rock to make a note, and Hungry's likable partner, Pony Boy, stops by to chat. He's from Houston, Texas, and was named after a look-alike character from the western movie "The Outsiders." We three leapfrog all hot, humid morning. The AT winds around some spectacular lakes in these last few miles. As the Trail wound around the shores of Nahmakanta Lake, I heard splashing and laughter from up ahead.I knew before I saw them that the boys were in swimming.Not wanting to startle them if they were skinny dipping, I hollered "Girl alert!" to give them time to deal with their dignity. But, hot as it was, they went in with shorts on for a total rinse - clothing and body.They caught me about the time I was atop Nesuntabunt Mountain. Woohoo! The AT is throwing eyefuls of Katahdin at us today. We can see her, up close and personal. There's a big clot of clouds hanging over Baxter peak, but the cloud ceiling is high - those summitting today would have their views.Next to the Trail, I passed some fantastic cedars, very old, twisted and thick of trunk. I wish I knew what they were. I assume they were cedar because the trunk, bark and roots resembled a cedar. But the needles were flat, like arbovitae. Whatever they were, there were several "families" of Large Ones.The humidity slows me down. I stop at Crescent Pond, hoping for a moose view. No moose, but rocky boulders sloping into the water. I sit on one for a wash and nearly slide in over my head on the polished granite!It looks like, after our late start, I will be late to the shelter. The Trail is sluggish, rooty, uphill, next to the interesting rocky sluice that is Pollywog Gorge. I am a little dehydrated, but even after 2100 miles it is still hard to treat water from something called Pollywog Stream! Though if I could filter from the dying Skyline Pond last year on the Long Trail, I could do this.At the shelter, Dig, Homeless and Unemployed were already there - they knew of a shortcut. In the shelter were Jason and John. I was happy to see them all.Although the water is tepid, suggesting pond runoff from an uphill body of sluggish water, I do break down and collect from Rainbow Stream outside the shelter. I need the water. But I scare many large frogs into plopping back into the water. I manage to get one's picture before it does.I'm having trouble sleeping. My two likable compadres are snoring away and I've lost my earplugs. But that's not the big problem. The mice at this shelter laugh at mouse hangers; they make short work of them. I've already batted two from my pack, with my bare hand. I can't find my ibuprofen without waking everyone up, and the flooring is classic Maine uneven, peeled pole - known as "baseball bat" floor. Ouch! My hips!To top it off, these mice RUN everywhere, and back and forth. Noisily. They also have not-quite-perfected the fine art of food bag diving. Yes, Maine's diving mice! They tip the mouse-hanging can out of the way, then swan dive for the food bag below. As mine is slippery silnylon, they slide right off the food bag and plop down to the floor. Sometimes they miss the bag completely, nose-dive into space and then there is a big "plop!" Probably they need the ibuprofen worse than me. Good!About all I can do is toss and turn to the pitter-patter-plop!-repeat of little running feet and the chain saw breathing. Not my best night on the AT. And certainly the mousiest shelter in all my travels! Rainbow Springs shelter needs a big old NC black snake!