Date: 2012-09-17
To: Katahdin Stream Campground
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: clear sky

Arrived at the Baxter Ranger¢s Station sometime between 7:00 and 8:00, and switched out my pack for a daypack. I left most of my gear on the Ranger¢s Porch and only took my first aid kit, shell and water. Some thru-hikers use the same pack for the whole trail, and when another hiker at the station commented about this, I responded that I did not think that the pack would last to Springer. In the back of my mind I was really much more concerned about injury. I hiked Katahdin years before, and there are many section of rapid elevation gain where a heavy pack could stress the body. The morning was cool, and I did not immediately notice the smell of the day pack, but it was warm enough in the mile or so before Katahdin Stream that I noticed the powerful odor from dozens of finishing thru-hikers sweating into the pack. For some time I felt as if I was trying to walk away from the smell, but it dawned on me that I would smell that foul in only a few days.Just after crossing the stream I met up with another thru hiker, starting that day as well. I felt immense relief that I was not the last hiker to start in 2012. I was so nervous that I did not identify myself as a thru hiker at the park gate. He was from Georgia, and like me did not have a trail name yet.  Although we hike together for a half mile or so, it seemed that our minds in different places, perhaps on the two-thousand miles ahead. Even talking with another hiker, my nerves did not immediately settle, and perhaps the general feeling of unease compelled me to speed up. As the rock stairs transitioned into navigation around the random boulders amid the brush, I left Cameron behind.Not much further up the trail I met a more experienced hiker, Stryder, who has completed a thru-hike four years pervious and has been hitching his way around the country since then. We chatted for some time and he gave me a recipe, I forget what he referred to the dish as, but it seems to be to be a sort a of a calorie bomb. Take a bite size snickers, or lacking that, cut up a full size bar and seal the ends with Nutella. Then wrap the entirety in a cinnamon roll, deep fry until GB&D. He did not mention a temperature by I expect 350° F is suitable.I left him behind when we reached the hand over hand climbing, and after reaching the crest of the Hunt Spur, I was impressed with the clarity of the morning. I felt a tinge of regret that I had left my glasses at home, but turned to face the last steep ascent of the day and moved forward. When I reached the tablelands, I was surprised to see a half dozen birds. As I pondered what these birds sustained on, I observed one crow struggled to fly north, but a strong gust instead pushed it over the south face.As I bounded across the rocks, some day hikers commented that I moved like a goat. Although I was trying to avoid stepping on any of the fragile soil, I suspect my facial hair also contributed to their comments. Some years ago, during a Leave No Trace Course, Ray Hayden made a similar comment. Then, as now, I took it as a compliment, even if it was not intended as such. Conceivably, ¢Goat¢ could be my trail name.I reached the summit just before noon, and found both hikers and a chipmunk. Unlike the birds, the chipmunk on the summit seemed subsist solely on hiker handouts, instead of foraging. The unusual clarity I experienced lower on the plateau was even more pronounced at the summit, where I could see lakes beyond what my map identified. I moved beyond my regretted glasses, and did not idle on the summit I met up with Cameron on the tablelands, perhaps a quarter mile from the peak; Although I commented about meeting up with him in the hundred-mile-wilderness, I was secretly ecstatic to already be a mile and a half ahead of someone.