Date: 2015-09-30
From: Cooper Brook Falls Lean-to 

To: Potaywadjo Spring Lean-to 
Miles today: 11.4

I woke early, but heard rain, so I rolled over and slept a little while longer. When I woke again I no longer heard raindrops on my tent, but instead I heard a strange water type sound. It was at that point I bolted upright and unzipped the tent to look outside. The beautiful calm little cascading brook I photographed and collected water from last night was now a frothing, raging, swollen white water river. (Someone who was at the same shelter the next day later told me he saw a whole tree wash down the raging brook.) I instantly realized that all the streams, brooks, and rivers in the 100 mile wilderness would be swollen and raging. Any fording would no longer be a simple rock hop.I quickly packed up the contents of my tent. The 2 section hikers were gone, so I moved my tent and fly to the shelter in an effort to dry them out before packing them up. Moxie said the rain was expected to clear, so I packed up and hit the trail. I came to a large tributary to Cooper Brook and changed out of my boots to ford. I had just crossed and put my boots back on when it started to rain again. It soon became clear that the rain was just getting started. The wind picked up, the temperature dropped, and it began to rain - hard, very hard. I did not bother removing my boots the rest of the day. It was pointless. I was already soaked to the bone, including my socks and boots.When I came to Jo-Mary Road I weighed my options. I considered trying to get off the AT and into town to wait out the storm. But I thought the odds of getting a ride were slim, and I was concerned about becoming hypothermic while trying to find a ride out. I also had no cell coverage. So I decided to continue hiking.Shortly after crossing Jo-Mary Road I found a cluster of about a half dozen black umbrellas. The people under the umbrellas were just standing along the trail in the rain storm. One had a large video camera and it was aimed directly at me.I asked what they were doing. One guy said he was making a food drop. The others said they were working on a project for outdoor retailer REI.When I asked the guy with the camera why he was filming me, he simply stated "you are hiking in inclement weather." I sarcastically thanked him for letting me know because I probably would not have figured that out on my own, and continued hiking.A young woman asked if she could interview me. I told her I was soaked to the bone and could not stop without risking hypothermia. She then asked if she could walk with me and ask me questions. I told her that was fine with me as long as she kept up. She asked just a few questions before turning back when I had to cross 2 raging streams.Water was literally everywhere. Large portions of the trail were underwater - ankle deep or more. Streams that I would normally step over without a thought were now raging brooks requiring careful attention to cross.Brooks which would normally be crossed with rock hops were now deep, raging, frothing small white water rivers with the rocks well under the water. Fortunately I had already crossed most of the rivers in the 100 mIle wilderness. I came to a brook with a rope strung across it. The rocks were all below the water, were rounded, and looked slippery. I scouted up and down stream for another way to cross. I found no better point. So I decided to attach my hiking poles to my pack and cross using the rope and both hands.I stepped into the cold rushing water onto the first rock and was already in up to my thighs. I started across, hand over hand using the rope. Suddenly, as I was moving my right hand further along the rope, my feet slipped off a rock, or I were pushed off the rock by the force of the water, or both. I was now chest deep in the water and close to being swept down stream. I instinctively clamped down on the rope with my left hand and managed to bring my right hand up and out of the cold water and back onto the rope.Somehow I was able to work my way over the rocks and through the cold water while maintaining a death grip on the rope. I scrambled up the bank, detached my hiking sticks, and kept on going. I could not stop to think about how very close I came to being beaten against the rocks and drown by the rushing water. I had to keep going to avoid hypothermia.There were several more similar water crossings, but I avoided wading directly into deep rushing water. Sometimes I hiked upstream to where the water was more disbursed and not as deep. Sometimes I used fallen logs to help me cross. I knew I had to just keep going. I needed to get to the next shelter before dark. I needed to get out of my wet clothes. And I hoped that I still had a dry sleeping bag and some dry clothes to crawl into once I reached the shelter. I use dry bags for most of my gear, but between the torrential rain and multiple dunkings, my pack was thoroughly soaked. The rain pack cover was useless, and was collecting water at the bottom which I frequently had to dump out as i hiked on.I could not stop - not to eat, drink, or pee. I just kept going through the cold drenching rainI thought I might not make it out of the 100 mile wilderness afterall. I repeatedly thought about my husband. Instead of meeting me in Vermont to celebrate our anniversary at a romantic country inn, he could be driving to Maine with a little bag of my hair for DNA to identify and claim my body.When I started the AT I promised myself that I would never get myself into a situation I could not get myself out of. I just had to keep going.I reached Antlers Campsite,which has no shelter. I stopped briefly in the brand new 2 seater privy. (I do not know anyone on the AT or anywhere else who I would like to sit next to while pooping - so I am not sure how the 2 seater is supposed to work.) It was so new and clean that I considered spending the night in the large roomy privy, but the other hikers camping there may have objected. So I moved on. The shelter was another 3.5 miles.I continued on through the rain, wind, cold, and water, reaching Potaywadjo Spring Lean-to just after dark. I covered a total of 11.4 miles and I was exhausted.The 2 section hikers along with a young thru hiking couple were already in the shelter and ready for bed. Thankfully I had a dry sleeping bag and dry clothes. I quickly stripped off my wet clothes, put on dry clothes, and crawled into my sleeping bag.As I tried to calm down and go to sleep, I quickly realized I had left on my wet granny panties. I could not figure out what to do with them if I managed to get them off, so I just left them on. By morning my body heat dried them. (In the morning I discovered that the young woman in the shelter had a similar problem. She just wadded up her wet thong and threw it to the back of the shelter - why didn't I think of that?)The AT is calling. I hope the rain stops so I can get the hell out of Maine and celebrate my anniversary with my husband.