Date: 2007-09-25
From: Speck Pond Shelter

To: Grafton Notch, Bethel, ME
Miles today: 4.6
Weather: clear sky

September 25, Multi-colored DreamThere's something about making a warm breakfast when you're outdoors. I'm near Speck Pond right now making oatmeal, my first oatmeal since the south. What a nice feeling. And I'm so proud of my little cat food can stove. It's made it with me the whole way - my cheapest piece of gear, and seemingly, the most durable. And my fuel bottle. A Mountain Dew bottle I asked my friend, Jeff, for after he finished drinking it. I still remember that day and having to explain why I was begging for his garbage. It's still here. Thanks, Dukes.It's this kind of morning that makes me sad this trip is near the end. I'm at this pond and I'm the only one here. There are no parking lots here, no boats,, no one having a picnic. It was just too hard to get here for there to be a crowd. And it's peaceful, the way I remember Maine to be. This is why I am hiking the Appalachian Trail. There have been very few times when the scenery makes me say that but this is one of them. But I know that most days are not like this. Most days we trudge through the woods, trying to make miles, always aware of the balance we need to strike between spending time at the viewpoints and hiking on. So that makes this even more wonderful. We are planning a short day today so I CAN sit here and enjoy this. I wish I could carry this tranquility with me.And I wonder if I will ever see a place like this again. I certainly won't climb though Mahoosuc Notch to get here! ...We headed out a bit after 9 a.m. It was a nice, leisurely morning and I appreciated that. This would be the last time we headed to town for resupply and it was good to be relaxed.We climbed out of the shelter to Old Speck Mountain. It was a nice climb and very pretty. And very steep - up rockface again. For a good portion of the ascent, we had views for miles. The whole area was full of multi-colored trees, ponds, and granite. Gorgeous.We got to the top and had a snack. We were all really low on food since the Gorham resupply was done at a Rite Aid so we were really aiming to get to town for lunch.It was a gorgeous day - warm, sunny, not a cloud in the sky. We made our way down the mountain and it just got prettier. Leaves were strewn about the trail like confetti - red, orange and yellow - and the trail was lined with the trees making the whole scene magical. The sun made the day brigher.The descent was a dream, really. It was the first time since before Moosilauke that the trail didn't ask us to climb straight down on rocks. Instead, it was gradual and our feet even touched dirt! I was loving it, in a great mood. We passed a couple of streams and cliffs but mostly hiked our way though the fresh Maine woods of moss and pine needles.We came to the road around 12:45 p.m. and began the arduous hitch into Bethel. After an hour it felt discouraging. After an hour and a half, it felt hopeless. But we had very little food and no cell service so we kept at it. Finally we hopped a ride in the bed of a pickup truck (thank heavens for pickup trucks). It was a 17 mile ride, the wind blowing the whole way. Sort of like a convertible ride for the less affluent. It was great to see Maine this way - the small homes on the side of the road selling pie and the general store in the middle of nowhere.We got to Bethel, dropped our packs at the Chapman Inn and practically ran to eat. It was a great day and I can't believe how great the weather was. Fall in Maine is quite the sight to see.- Sound of the fan in our room, Melk breathing, cars outside.Post Trail Thoughts:As we attempted to hitch, we watched Moosehead and Cul-de-Sac get dropped off in another truck. It was odd to watch them vanish into the woods on the Appalachian Trail knowing that I'd not be following their footsteps anytime soon. It was here that we would pop up to Monson and be on our merry way. This odd sensation also came with a sense of freedom in knowing that we didn't have to worry about this piece of the trail.When we made it back to The Chapman Inn that night, I signed online to read emails and was unpleasantly surprised at the sight. It was the first time on the entire hike I felt like writing no more. I'd received several guest book entries from readers who weren't excited about my plan to jump to Monson, readers who thought that if I could just leave Melk and Ronin behind, I could see the whole trail, and readers who had conveniently left their names off of their entry criticizing my decision. I realized that putting my journal on the internet almost welcomed this type of unsolicited advice but also grew extremely agitated that I hadn't asked for these opinions in any way. And though I was still confident in my decision, I was sad for the people at home who had not yet realized that the path of my hike was different than the path they wanted me to hike. I would not leave my friends to get "farther" and I would not regret this decision. I only wished everyone, especially those closest to me, could understand so clearly. I went to sleep that night with a heavy heart but standing strong.