Date: 2004-08-14
From: Logan Brook Lean-to

To: Antler's Campsite
Miles today: 19.6
Weather: few clouds

What an amazing day! After what seemed an endless stretch of rain and more rain, we awoke to crystal clear blue skies and sunshine this morning. At sun up we peeked our heads out of the shelter and heard the birds singing. We breathed in deep and smiled big. Even though we'd be hitting the trail in wet shoes and wet gear, it somehow seemed the most beautiful day ever.Our first big challenge was crossing the east branch of the Pleasant River. The name seemed ironic, given how it had been transformed into raging white water. We had camped at the west branch of the Pleasant River two nights ago; seeing how drasitcally it had risen and gone from tranquil to absolutely impassible, we didn't know what to expect from the east branch. And we were not disappointed. When we reached it we found it had overflowed its banks; several feet all along river's edge was now knee-deep marsh, with intermittent pockets of grass that made it difficult to tell whether you were about to step into a few inches or a few feet of water. Arwen, our fearless leader, charged ahead to ferret out the safest path across. His first attempt was rather comical. Before he'd even made it to the river's edge, he managed to step into a hole and found himself with one leg submerged up to his crotch. After regaining his composure, he headed bravely into the rushing waters. It was slow going. To keep from being carried downstream, he had to wedge his feet into the cracks between rocks and use his poles as levers against the river's force. As a safety precaution he had unbuckled the hip belt on his backpack; that way if he lost his footing, we would be able to wriggle out of his heavy pack before it pulled him to the bottom. Moving ever so carefully, he made it to the middle of the river where the current was strongest. At precisely this moment, one of his trekking poles snapped in half. Somehow, don't ask me, he managed to grab the broken piece before it ws carried downstream. Then, as if just standing in that unbelievably strong current wasn't difficult enough, he managed to repair his pole on the spot. Good thing, because he had realized by this point that getting across at this particular spot in the river was just too dangerous. So he made his way all the way back to where he'd started. He found a better spot to get across. Although it was deeper, the current wasn't as fierce. The water was waist deep on him, but he made it over without a problem.Then it was my turn. I couldn't believe how strong the force of the current was on my body. Arwen shouted tips to me from the other bank, reminding me to unfasten my hip belt, to use my poles, to wedge my feet in. That was really difficult. On the one hand, you wanted to wedge your foot into a spot where the river couldn't carry it out from under you. But on the other hand, a spot like that invariably meant that your foot was twisted to one side or another; the weight of your pack made each step painful. The deeper into the river you get, the more uneasy you become about the incredible power the current has over your body. You know one wrong move and you're going to find your feet swept out from under you.Finally, I made it across! And when I stepped foot on that marshy bank, I felt unbelievably alive. I looked downriver and saw mountains and trees and sun and sky and felt so lucky to be standing there on that spot.We stopped for an early lunch at East Branch Lean-to. The sun was out in full force, and we made the most of it. We took every wet thing out of our packs - which was every thing in them - and laid them out in the sun to dry. We hung up some line and draped our tent over it. I took my trusty pack towel to it to soak up most of the water and shorten the drying time. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits. It was a long day of hiking though. We haven't put in this many miles in a while; but the terrain was a good deal easier than it has been, probably since before New Hampshire. And despite the beautiful weather, practically the whole trail was underwater, so our feet stayed soaked all day. We made it to camp just before dark. Antler's Campsite is a special place. It's right on the edge of Cooper Pond, which is surrounded by mountains. The sun had begun to set already, and our friends - who'd all made it to camp ahead of us, as usual - were sitting around a campfire at water's edge. We set up our tent, then took in the most gorgeous firey pink sunset we've seen out here, made spectacular by its reflection in the pond. We cooked dinner in the dark, and ate it, lauging, around the campfire.When we laid down in our tent tonight, we were lulled to sleep by the song of the loons. I had never heard loons before coming to Maine. Their song is one of the most beautiful and haunting that I have heard. They called to each other from across the pond most of the night; whenever I stirred awake in the night their song reassured me back to sleep.Camera 1 & Camera 2Heather & Arwenvaughan@pocketmail.comhttp://www.hobbithole.net