Date: 2004-03-16
From: Jenkins Shelter

To: Jenny Knob Shelter
Miles today: 23.6
Weather: overcast clouds

Log entry: 45Starting time: 0800Ending time: 1545Morning weather: Steady rain, started at around 1800 last night and held steady until around 1100. Warm, 45 degrees at 0730.Afternoon weather: Spits of rain all afternoon but also some sun and periods of clouds. Rain gear came off for good at 1100.Evening weather: Partly sunny and pleasent, wind is cool. Hard to guess what the night will bring.Breakfast: Moonpies and vanilla CIB, also cherry JelloLunch: Peanuts, oats and honey bar, Cliff Bar, Hershey bars, Rolo and some Oreo cookiesDinner: Vanilla creme cookies crushed in milk, chocolate pudding, stuffing with gravy.Trail description: Started off with a nice little climb up Brushy Mt but then got really cool as it followed Little Wolf Creek. That was by far the coolest 2.4 miles of the day. The rest was another ridge walk but very unimpressive views, no cliffs or vistas. Climbs were moderate except for the 1.8 miles from Kimberling Creek up to Helveys Mill Shelter trail.People: The 5 dudes from Florida in the morning, no one else so far.Wildlife: Birds and a really big spider. It looked like the dreaded wolf spider we have up north and was about the size of a quarter (legs included). It was running across the trail. Pretty cool.Money spent: noneBiggest complaints: Left shoulder really hurt for a bit but that wore off as the day progressed. The rain made for a sweaty morning climb, trail was boring for 9 miles and not all that well blazed or cleared.Thoughts: I didn't sleep soundly last night. I seemed to wake up every 2 hours or so but the morning was fun once all the boys were awake. They are a neat group of kids. It's good to know that we may be a lost generation but there are good people in it that are doing their part to see that good triumphs. I hit the trail at a steady canter and tried my best not to seep through my rain gear on the ascent. I was fairly successful. I tipped my hood back soon into the summit race and that really helped me stay cool. The rain was solid and steady. Back home we would call it "a good soaker". By the time I reached the blue-blazed junction called, the high water route, the rain was steady as ever. Plus it had been raining since like 1800 last night. I figured it hadn't been raining so hard that it would be dangerous, but rather exciting. And exciting it was...The guide book says that the trail crosses little wolf creek 12 times in 2miles. It also crosses many side streams and tributaries which make itimpossible to count as you go along. If I had to venture an educated guess Iwould say that you cross all totaled like 20 some crossings, and no bridges.This is what I expected the AT to be like. Much more wild and wet. I guess Maine doesn't have any bridges, so that should be fun. When I got to the river, the first two crossings were uneventful. The water was obviously higher than normal but just high enough to make most of the common route impassible. My mind raced back to the days when Dad and I would be on some trail in southern Indiana where bridges were also few and far between. When we would get to a "wet" crossing we would stop and gather rocks so that we and others could safely cross. I only have to build a new route at 2 crossings. Otherwise I would step from rock to rock working my way across but sometimes you reach the far bank only to look up and notice it is a thick wall of rhoddedenrdon.So you would carefully back up until you could find a place to crawl up. It was a good time. I enjoy challanges like stream crossings. I especially like it when you make it across a tough section where you know many a sock has been soaked and you hopsctoched your way across dry as a bone. Unless you fall in...Just when I thought the fun was over the trail wound back down to the river.This particular crossing seemed normal, average. But the creek took some tightturns and the current picked up speed. The most direct route was over a log but the log was submerged. There was pools on eitherside, too deep to fill in. There was a small rock bridge started but once it made it halfway across the current became swift and any rocks I placed were swept downstream. So I decided to drop pack and do this thing right. As I built I sang John Denver's "Wild Montana Skies" at the top of my lungs. Why not. After about 20 minutes I had a pretty good bridge. The last 4 feet the water was too deep and my bridge funneled even more water than before down that way. The current was just too strong for any more rocks to hold. I figured my chance for crossing would be to grab hold of a rhododendron that was just out of reach then climb up onto the bank. The problem was my pack. At first I walked out on my bridge and took my pack off intending to throw it on the bank. But my footing wasn't secure and my left arm and shoulder were not at full strength. so I walked back to shore and strapped my pack on as tight as I could and grabbed my poles. I made it to the point of no return and chucked my poles far up the bank. Then I stretched my right arm as far as i could, just inches from the trunk. The plan was to step off and grab the tree and plant my right foot on a root at the base and then use my momentum to swing my left foot up onto shore. Steps 1 and 2 went as planned as I was able to grasp the tree and plant my right foot but my momentum turned to drag and my left foot didn't get to the shore. Instead my pack swung me back around and almost pulled me into the drink. I was able to catch the rhododendron with my left hand and I rested there dangling on the shore. The shore is a small ledge, about 4 feet from water level to the top. I said a quick prayer much like Samson said before he died. I didn't ask for strength to kill Philistines but rather justget me up the bank. I pulled hard on the tree and just as my left hand grabbedanother trunk a significant snap broke the fury of the rushing water. I wassafely ashore. I hope that tree holds for the next poor sap that uses it as anaid in crossing Little Wolf Creek.He was born in the Bitter Root Valleyin the early morning rainWild geese over the waterheading north toward the pole again...Oh Montana give this child a homeGive him love, and a good familyand a woman of his ownGive him the right wind for a brotherand the wild Montana skies...