Date: 2014-09-03
From: Full Goose Campsite

To: Old Speck Summit
Miles today: 6.2

Did not expect the rain last night. Fortunately I was prepared. Unfortunately for the SOBO guy... He was cowboy camped. I woke up to a potter patter starting to come down after midnight so I got up and grabbed my hiking clothes off a line then closed my tent flap. Once I got back into my sleeping bag I hear the SOBO wake up. Just imagine the sound of an older man go from blissfully asleep to wide awake and scrambling in darkness cursing inaudibly the whole way. The rain started coming down hard soon after and kept up all night.In the morning I grabbed my food bag and decided right there a zero in the woods is a good idea. Considering how slick everything was with the sun shining yesterday I imagined today would be vastly more difficult. The infamous Mahoosuc Notch is just a few miles ahead too. It's noted in the guidebook as the most difficult/fun portion of the trail. Toss in a bunch of rain and I presume it must be a lot like a mile long satanic water slide. Once you start, you can't stop!Since I've got plenty of food, a tactical zero in the woods appears to be a smart choice. It looks like more rain can start dumping any moment as I write this.By noon the sun came out and a few NOBOs made it to Full Goose where I've been relaxing, eating, and reading all morning. Every single one camp up the wooden ladder with variations of specific explicatives concerning the trail they just conquered. Or should I say survived? By 1pm the sun was shining real strong and so I decided this is not going to be a zero in the woods anymore. This isn't the Appalachian River after all, that was Massachusetts and Vermont. I've said it before and I'll say it again; suns out, guns out. Soon enough I was packed up and carefully working my way towards the Mahoosuc Notch. Most of crucial rocks were dried out by the time I got to the notch and was able to enjoy myself. It was a combination of caving, bouldering, and almost bush wacking. Don't think I have ever done this much mantling in one day before. Mantling was my go-to method of navigating down into the boulders by planting a hand downward and putting your weight into your arms to clear or raise your legs. Being short would really suck in this section. I actually imagined Buddy Backpacker falling into a crevice for some reason. That's when I dropped my sole surviving hiking stick... Right into a crevice. I could faintly see the end of it jutting upwards but out of reach. I stood around contemplating whether or not I should rescue a mere stick. I mean this hiking stick was actually growing on me. It's twin brother flew off the side of Moosilauke into a cascade just a week after picking it up outside Hanover, NH. This one now trapped in a crevice was racking up miles and more use than the carbon fiber pole I broke in the Shenandoahs. Plus if I left it, I would be hiking/trekking pole less. In Maine. Rescuer mission engaged. And quickly abandoned. There was no getting to it. Not even buddy backpacker would have fit down there if I grabbed him by the ankles and forced him to pick up my stick. If the situation entailed me holding Buddy upside down and threatening him that I wasn't going to let him back up until he got my stick, we would be there for a few years until he grew a few more feet. A thru hiker soon caught up as I abandoned my beloved stick to the Mahoosuc crevice. I forget his name but he was holding up a stoic face looking forward to making it out of this rock jumble. He got stoned while taking a breather at Full Goose and this was not a synergistic kind of place for good vibes. I silently chuckled to myself and occasionally yelled back to him to affirm he was going the right direction. There's only one place where you absolutely have to take your pack off to get through. I imagine this is the spot where people tend to rip their pants. That's all I have to say about that. Almost dropped someone's trekking poles into another crevice as I offered a hand to pull it forward. They didn't notice because they were preoccupied with not falling into a different crevice. The kinds of crevices that never see the light of day. The ones where you can leave a poetic touch such as a delicate fart. The crevice will eat anything up and preserve it in all of its current glory.Well I got through just fine and contemplated if I should go back and make sure my thru hiker peer was making it through okay. You see, Maine gives you a targeted full body workout. The first day tested your legs. The second attacked your gluts. Today teases the upper body. And thru hikers don't have the upper body anymore. Further trials would target the triceps with some steep uphills but now I'm trekking pole less so my legs will just have to be in beast mode. My knees will just turn into a mush of submissive avocado goo without support on the downhills. But I pushed onwards once I saw my red eyed companion pull through.Little did I know (being the guy who doesn't ask questions or look at maps in great detail) what came next was the Mahoosuc Arm. I seriously thought I got lost going up this tower. It's not a mountain, it just goes straight up. And I could have swore it was a lot more than half a mile. I took it on pushing a pace with no breaks but it just kept going and going and going. With no trail markers that I was aware of. My only consolidation was other footprints (more like smears in mud where people were sliding down the mountain). While going up I kept on hearing the guy behind me shout curses. The first time I stopped and listened because I thought he fell and broke a leg or something. Upon listening closer I could hear him dropping F bombs but he was progressing up towards me. Just venting out hiker rage I suppose haha. It must have worked because he started gaining on me as the cursing got more vivid. When he was within casual chatting distance I didn't have the heart to tell him I suspected we may have gone up the wrong path. Near one of the 30 false summits, he cursed in relief at spotting a very faded white blaze and explained he thought we were off trail or something. A few minutes later we reached the summit dripping a river of sweat and holding middle fingers up like its cool. I actually enjoyed the hike up but it always feels good to raise a finger. I suspect it releases endorphins. In fact, I'm just going to say it does. Raise your middle fingers up more often. It's pseudo scientifically proven to make you happier.When I reached the caretaker campsite people smiled and teased "so this is your idea of a zero, huh?" I dropped a John Maynard Keynes reply - "When the facts change, I change my mind" and joked around for a bit before pushing onwards to stealth at the next peak with a fire tower. Logic would have it that I should have just camped at the lean to. The thing was that I was making a personal tribute to my first 20 miler.   Finishing with Georgia and crossing into North Carolina kicked my butt. When I got to my intended campsite that day I decided to really end the day on a victory and push the mileage to a 20+ to celebrate making it past the 80% statistic. Today wasn't a 20 miler or anything monumental in anyway but I just had to go up one more mountain for me.Cheers!