Date: 2011-08-17
From: Piazza Rock Lean-To, day 2

To: Spaulding Mountain Lean-to
Miles today: 16.9

(In which I hike over Saddleback Mountain in beautiful weather and am stung by a bee)We leave the shelter after a pleasant 39 hour stay and hike out under a clear blue sky. Being the first hikers on the trail for the day Doc Boom and I hike without poles when we approach three different ponds, but despite the recent tracks and scat, actual Moose (or as Trashcan liked to say, Moosen) remain elusive.The hike up Saddleback Mountain, which would have likely been miserable in yesterday's rain, is easy enough in dry weather. Once we get above treeline a steady breeze keeps us cool, and the terrain becomes gently rolling hills that allow us to effortlessly gain the last of the elevation while fully appreciating the views. The cool breeze and warm sun remind me of a windy day at the beach, and of a Monet painting of a girl with a sundress blowing on a seaside hill. The mountain is by far my favorite part of Maine that I've seen, and I am enormously glad that I did no attempt to climb it yesterday in what the sobos described as 35 mph sideways hail.Hanging out on the summit in our rain gear to stay warm we are joined by Big Ben and Colorado, and by Raw Indy, a hiker that neither Doc Boom nor I had met yet. Raw Indy is excited to have caught up with both of us after being a few days behind for months, and is surprised to find out that Doc is not an old man, though she says that I pretty much matched her expectations. All three of the hikers zeroed in Rangeley yesterday, and like us are glad to be hitting Saddleback under very different weather conditions than they otherwise would have.Guinea Pig shows up, and going down the ridge and up to the nearby Saddleback Horn peak we stratify, Big Ben, Colorado, Raw Indy and Doc taking the fast train in the front, me moseying at a slower pace, and Guinea Pig a bit slower behind me. I use the solitude to listen to more All Songs Considered, having now listened to the weekly podcast in reverse chronological order back to mid 2009.I've used or given away all but three of my chlorine dioxide tablets, and since I haven't made it a priority to replace them and have only what is likely a couple of weeks left on the trail, I decide to embark on a treatless water experiment. The experiment is not really to see whether or not I get sick -- I believe that the risks are real, if not necessarily large, and that such a small sample would say little of statistical significance with either a positive or negative result. Instead the experiment is more to try the conveniences of not filtering, and its implication, rarely having to carry water.Some people -- perhaps most of the hikers I've met -- would never intentionally risk drinking untreated water, and this perspective is perfectly reasonable, and certainly the safest approach. But other hikers such as Charlie and Lemur switched to the never treat, never carry approach and never looked back. And while my risk tolerances are lower than most when it comes to some things such as wet rocks, they are apparently higher than most when it comes to drinking untreated water, and having stopped treating spring water months ago, I feel few qualms about drinking stream water straight as well. Given that any symptoms of Giardia would likely appear after I summit, I decide that now is as good a time as any to take a calculated risk.I'm two miles out from the final shelter when I hear and see a large insect flying toward my mouth. I keep my mouth closed and it bounces off of my lip, the impact coinciding with a sudden strong burning sensation in my lower lip. My first thought -- OK, my second thought after the immediate owwwww -- is that, never having been stung by a bee, I have no idea if I am allergic. Being alone in the woods miles from anybody hardly seems like the most opportune circumstances for discovering this, and I pinch my lip to try to squeeze any venom out of it. I have no idea if this is at all helpful, but I prefer the controlled sharp pain to the dull throb of the sting anyway.I use my iPod's front camera as a mirror to check on the swelling and make sure that there isn't a stinger still stuck in my lip. The available lighting makes the camera mirror's verdict inconclusive, so I unpack my bag and switch to the big gun, taking a series of artsy self portraits of my drooling lip with my 5D mark II. The swelling is immediately noticeable but doesn't seem to be growing in the two minutes I check on it, so with few other available options I continue hiking on.By the time I reach the shelter my lip has returned almost to normal, and nobody comments on it, so I assume that I'm good. Big Ben, the May 5th starter, has unsurprisingly pressed on for more miles, and Doc is busy spreading his flirtations between Colorado and Raw Indy, so I set up my tent away from the shelter for the solitude.It's been my first day in Maine without any rain, and if the weather and terrain keep up then the last 201 miles should be considerably more pleasant than the first 80.* * *Since I've entered Maine my Kindle has yet to find a cellular signal, and since Trashcan experienced the same problem with his prepaid AT&T phone but Doc's AT&T contract phone works just fine, I would guess that AT&T's contract with whoever owns the cell towers in Maine does not extend to Kindles or prepaid phones. This means that all further entries will likely be delayed and posted when I can find wifi in towns, of which there are only a small handful remaining. For those deciding what electronics to bring on a future hike this is another vote in favor of smartphones, but having typed every entry so far on my Kindle I have no plans to try to switch technology now.