Date: 2005-10-14
From: North end of Rainbow Lake

To: Katahdin Stream Campground
Miles today: 17.6
Weather: overcast clouds

Completed Miles 2168.9, to go 5.2To me a trip of this magnitude is more about repeatedly overcoming adversity than anything else. In long distance hiking, as in life, it's never about what happense, but about how we react or respond to it. The event or external circumstance is beyond our control; how we choose to deal with it is not only within our grasp, it is exactly what defines who we really are as human beings. A favorite saying of mine is "who we are is determined largely by how we behave when no one is looking." This also seems true to me and I can guarantee you that no one is looking when you're in the woods and on the trail.Weather is the single most important uncontrolled variable. Lately it has been mostly rain and a cold rain at that. Since leaving the 100 Miles Wilderness what seems like an eternity ago, the continued rain has resulted in trails becoming streams that have to be waded and bigger and more frequent mud bogs. Streams and brooks usually rock hopped now must be forded and rivers rivers normally forwarded seem impassable. All the foregoing cannot be controlled by me, but within my limitations I choose how I will perform under these conditions. Even within these parameters I can stretch and grow. In the 7.2 miles from the Carl A. Newhall Lean to the Logan Brook Lean to there are four mountains to be dealt with, Gulf Hagas, West Peak, Hay Mtn and White Cap Mtn. They are the last climbs of any significance until the final ascent of Mt. Katahdin. There is nothing difficult about any of the four, but the fact that they are the last real elevation changes before 67 compartively flat miles helped build them up in the mind of this weary hiker. That, of course, and the rain which makes real mountains out of what would be fair weather molehills. And so it rained the day before hiking this particular section, the day of, and the day after. It was not possible to remain dry and so I plunged into any and all water with little hesitation. It's not possible to get any wetter than soaked. Having placed the contents of my back pack into plastic trash bags assured me of dry clothes and a dry sleeping bag at the end of the day. I would be cold and wet during the hiking day(s), but warm at night and, therefore, would survive. That I'm still here is pretty much evidence that it worked, serious discomfort notwithstanding. The east branch of the (not so) Pleasant River was deep and angry. I couldn't determine from the rapids the safest location to ford with any degree of certainty. Setting my hiking poles at their greatest length, I began inching my way across. A little more than mid-way through the right pole jammed between some submerged rocks and would not come free despite my best efforts and language. Exasperated and chilling rapidly, I leaned heavily on the left pole for balance while jerking hard on the right. The two halves of the stuck pole separaged and I struggled to maintain my balance in the torrent while wildly waving half a pole in my right hand. Abandoning all concern for balance, I leapt forward and became one with the river, up to my waist. My pack was immediately wet and heavy with water, but I churned forward, quickly gaining the opposite shore. The temperature was in the low 40's to upper 30's and I immediately stripped naked, wringing the water from the clothes I had been wearing and dumping the water from my pack. Because of the trash bags, the pack contents remained dry. With numbed fingers I dressed as quickly as I could and hiked into the unfriendly afternoon.This type of weather and hiking condition(s) existed for the next two days. Due to my uncharacteristic foresight (plastic bags), I was blessed each night with dry clothing and a comfy sleeping bag, allowing me to recover from the days exposure and return to the morning fray dry and somewhat rested. As exhausted as these efforts made me, the resultant hight quality of sleep made it possible for me to continue. Still, though, exposure and exertion like this does take its toll, and I arrived at White House Landing, a primitive no frills operation catering to hunters, hikers, snowmobilers and fisherman, pretty much depleted. At White House the owner picks you up by boat, delivers you to his holdings and returns you to the trail once your business is finished. For the entire day prior to arrriving I had visions of hamburgers and coffee dancing in my head. That, a hot shower and a warm bunk would revitalize me for the final push of 46 miles. That night I was visited by two old friends I hadn't spent time with since Connecticut, Vomiting and Diarrhea (not trail names). I didn't know where it came from, but prayed it was someting like a 24 hour bug having its way because of my weakened condition. My fear, of course, was a relapse of Giardia even though my water purification rites are now legendary.Even more weakened, I started back on the trail the next morning, body and spirite flagging. The best I could do was hike for 30-45 minutes and lay down next to the trail for about 15. In this fashion I managed a very slow 5 miles and finally gave up the ghost, pitching my tent at a nice spot on the south end of Mahmakanta Lake at about 4:30. Five miles in seven hours. I slept hard and awoke early the next morning feeling somewhat better, though scarcely strong.Considering I was now running out of time in which to complete the hike, I started the next morning before dawn and pushed myself slowlly north until sometime after dark, eventually finding a flat spot to camp somewhere around the north end of Rainbow Lake, a little more than 18 miles. Although sleeping well during my illness gave me renewed strength in the morning, forcing myself to hike only made things worse. Had there been any real option I would have gotten off the trail and found some medical help. There was nowhere I knew to go and I remained naively confident I could continue each day. Thus on the 14th day of October I hiked about 16 miles to the Ranger Station and Baxter Park and wisely caught a ride to the town of Millinocket, knowing I was in no shape to attempt a summit of Katahdin either that day or the next. Yesterday I saw a doctor. Lab work eliminated Giardia and pretty much pointed to a virus as the problem. Generally I am strong enought to fight off most everything other than a blonde, but the constant exposure left be in a weakened and more vulnerable state. In no shape to hike and with the rain continuing, I am stahing at the Appalachian Lodge. After a couple of days sleeping inside and eating hot food, my symptoms have disappeared and my strength has returned. The weather should be clear enough by Tuesday or Wednesday to allow me to complete the 5.2 miles...the climb of Katahdin. I can't stay here forever and if Wednesday isn't a go, I'll probably just wrap it up and go home. It won't be a complete thru hike, but I will be satisfied with my effort, with my response to those external conditions...and that's what I'm responsible for.