Becoming a SOBO.

 

 The little township of Monson, (Moonson as a local told me it was pronounced) has the Shaw’s Hiker Hostel, a small ice cream parlor, a general store that will sell deli style meals, an Art Gallery, a BBQ place, Post Office, a lodge and pub, a fine dining establishment, a gift shop, a convenience store, and the Appalachian Trail Visitor Center.  It’s here that the SOBO’s who start with Katahdin first can register with the ATC.    

Wednesday 6/29 Monson ME

I woke up on Wednesday at about 0445 and enjoyed some quiet time.  No one was snoring in the bunkhouse.  Breakfast was a 0700 and consisted of 3 eggs, 3 strips of bacon, home fries, orange juice, coffee, and all the blueberry pancakes one can eat.  Poet himself was the breakfast chef.  I felt stuffed.

We were shuttled in a Nissan NV 3500 van to the trailhead on ME RT 15.  I sat in front and told Poet about my experiences with the NV vans and what battlewagons they were.  He seemed pleased that the van had the capability to perform beyond normal expectations.  At the trailhead Poet gave everyone some words of wisdom before they started their journey northward into the 100 mile wilderness.  A course, I  was heading south.  

This section of trail was a relatively new section since the ATC decided to bypass the town of Monson and not have the trail run thru town anymore.  There were plenty of white blazes for the NOBOs but were curiously lacking for the SOBOs.  About three time within the first mile I realized that I wasn’t on the trail and had to use the Far Out app to find the trail again.  Then I discovered  to start looking behind me to see where the blazes were.  The blazes always face the way the trail went.

About two miles down the trail I remember one very important detail that I forgot to attend to at Shaw’s; settling of my tab.

¡Ay, caramba!  I’m not going to stiff those nice folks.  I made a note on my phone that when I got to Caratuck to arrange to get my bill settled. 

I kept heading southward.

Then I got to a snowmobile trail that had a sign that pointed to Monson 2 miles.  I thought, “two miles in and two miles out; not so bad and I’ll remember better next time!”  So, I headed back toward Monson.  

About 0.3 miles I came to a dirt road and the sign pointing off to Monson. This road basically skirted the north side of Lake Hebron back into town.  About halfway there the road became paved.  As soon as I made “town” I was again at Shaw’s.

I walked into the Emporium and Hippy Girl was manning the counter; Poet was out.  I told her that I forgot to pay my tab and she said that they weren’t worried; I didn’t seem like the type to skip out.  I got settled and made a spur of the moment decision.  I booked another night in the bunk room.  

But no breakfast.

I spent a quiet day watching old VHS tapes on a flat screen TV.  Superman II’s special effect mapping was obvious on that flat screen.  It was fun to watch.

Later Poet returned from doing a long distance shuttle.  He saw me and held out his hands like “What happen?”.  I told him it was his fault and he did this to get me to say another night.  He said, “I knew you weren’t going to stiff us.  You tried to pay yesterday as you checked in.”  He said he’d get me out to the trail in the morning and I said not to worry about it.  The walk was only two miles and mostly down hill.  I asked him if that route I took was the old trail and he confirmed it was.

I had dinner from the convenience store and then went to bed.

THURSDAY 6/30 Horseshoe Canyon Lean~to. (123.5)

I was up by 0500 but the bed I had didn’t have an outlet to charge my phone and I didn’t want to leave until it was charged.  Got my gear and went downstairs into the common room and plugged my phone in to charge.  Poet came in about 0600 and got coffee ready then started in on his chef duties.  I drunk a cup and said my farewells and I was off.

I quickly made the trail and I was southbound again.  The mosquitoes acted like they had never dined on a southerner before and they all wanted to take part in such a rare culinary delight.  I put the net over my head and applied DEET to my arms and legs.  

I believe that only excited the little bloodsuckers even more.

I had to ford the east branch of the Piscataquis River, the water only came up to my knees.  About a mile later I had a slip and fell onto my right knee on a rock.  

No break but there was some soreness.

I made it to the Horseshoe Canyon Leanto and discovered that I was going to have the shelter to myself.  Another hiker was there but he was hammock camping.

I basically busied myself with getting my bed made and preparing dinner.

I was asleep by hiker’s midnight.

FRIDAY 7/1 Tentsite (127.5)

I awoke early but I wasn’t into getting started and kinda just milled around the shelter.  The other hiker who slept in his hammock finally came to the shelter.  He had hurt his ankle and was taking it slow himself.  I took a look at it and the ankle didn’t look too bad which was good.  So many of these hikers will injure their feets and keep trying to push on until their injury forces them to quit.  This “Ankle”  was being smart.

I was finally on my way by 1030 and at Rocky Beach (125.4) I filtered some water and took a break.  “Ankle” passed me there. 

In a little while I was fording the West Branch Piscataquip River.  It was a two part process but as long as I was careful about my steps I made it.  Then I got to Marble Brook.  Another stream that was actually hiding a bog.  But then after successfully navigating it I came to a quagmire that was generally a bog itself.  I learned this when I stepped in the wrong spot and sunk up to my knee.  Moving around only made me sink lower.  I started to get a little worried.  I used my staff to my advantage and was able to slowly pull myself up until I was free.  And I didn’t lose a shoe in the process.

In only a couple of miles I made a campsite and pitched my cowboy outfit.  I made dinner and realized that the general funk I have been feeling is that I have reach a burn out process. I was surprised that it had taken this long.  But I was ready for this whole thingy to be done with and I could go home.

Home will happen but not yet.

SATURDAY 7/2 Bald Mtn Pond Shelter (132.4)

It did rain right before dark.  I had set up the 8x10 tarp up and kept fairly dry.  The mosquitoes finally calmed down a little after dark and I was able to sleep.  

The rains returned right at dawn (0430) and continued until 0900.I was able to keep relatively dry but not as dry as I like.  I made the decision to buck up and get a tent.

I drank my last swallow of filtered water as I was readying my pack.  The “horse hoofs” water sources didn’t look too inviting.  I tend to like my water sources to flow.  Soon I found a spot by the river at mile 129.8 where it was easy to access the stream.  Well, easy to access the stream and be able to get back out.  I filled up both of my bottles, drank my fill, ate breakfast, and charged my phone.

Within 2 ½ miles I was at the next shelter, but it took me until 1700.  Talk about snail pace!  This shelter was situated on Bald Mountain Pond and the “pond” (more lake to me) was in clear sight of the shelter.  Another hiker was there and he was finishing up a swim in the “pond”.  He was moving onward.

I set up my cowboy pallet in the shelter with my head at the front of the platform, rigged up the mosquito net then set about exploring.  This was a very nice area with some beach front and several good tent sites all around.

Another hiker showed up and inquired if I knew where the tent sites were.  I pointed him towards the beach.  He was pleased with it.

As I was making dinner more hikers showed up and beelined it to the beach.  Soon there were about ten tents and hammocks set up there. No one wanted to stay in the shelter because of mice.   Something I have learned though is to see if it looks like chipmunks are at the shelter.  If there are signs of chipmunks then there aren’t mice or rats.  Seems the chipmunks tends to want the spruce up their neighborhood and they get busy moving the riff-raff out.  

When I went to bed is when I realized that the platform slanted towards the front instead of towards the rear.  Good, it will benefit my feet to have them higher that my heart.

SUNDAY 7/3 Bald Mtn Brook Lean~to (136.2)

Again it wasn’t until about 0930 before I could get started.  

But from the “pond” I started climbing, an easy climb - at first.

As the climb got progressively steeper there was a point where I had to drop my pack and hoist it up above me and then climb up after it.

I got to the cut off for North Bald Mtn Peek and had a spectacular view but since the trail to the north peak was a side trail of over a mile I decided not to go there.  I continued on the AT. The descent was slow with trying to navigate a rock garden for about a mile but I noticed that being in the mountains again was lifting my mood.

Off the mountain and nearing the shelter I had to cross a logging road.  There off the road and the trail set to motorbikes.  One was a V-Strom.  

I admired it for a few minutes and realized how much I MISS MY RIDE!  I moved on.

At the shelter there was a couple who I had run into on the north side of Bald Mtn.  They tried to be talkative but I wasn’t in the mood.  I prepared my dinner, ate and as the food was digesting I became talkative.  The couple had a tent and they had already retired for the night.

MONDAY 7/4 Pleasant Pond Lean~to (145.5) Independence Day.

It was near 1030 before I started but I was determined to make the next shelter before dark.  I forced myself into a marching cadence and kept from frequent breaks like I’ve been doing.  I ford Moxie pond and then walked down that dirt road to where the trail took back to the woods.  I was passed by a couple of trucks on this road and waved at them and did a quick look inside the cabs as they passed; I swear to gawd they all looked like rednecks!  Up here in Maine?  Who’da thunk?!?

Right where the trail takes back to the woods I notice a small dock on the pond with a ladder.  It was set up for the hikers, or anyone else, to swim.  I wasn’t going to lollygag; I had to keep going.

So, it was under the power lines and through the woods to Pleasant Mountain I go!  (That sound like a Christmas carol) But! Pleasant Mountain was anything but pleasant.  By now I realize that the trail makers in Maine was as clueless as the trail makers in Georgia as to what a switchback was.  The climb was taxing but the view at the top was great.  It wasn’t panoramic, one had to move to different area of the summit to change view but it was still almost worth the effort.

I did notice one thing towards the west.  The sun was sinking.  I still had a mile to descend.  Time to get crackin’.

Long story short I had about a half mile of mountain to descend while using my headlamp in the dark on a trail that went almost straight down.

I made it without kilting myself.

I made the shelter and found that for once there were two other hikers sleeping on the platform.  One on one side and the other on the other side.  That left me with the middle.  I soon got my bedroll out and set up.  Didn’t bother about the skeeter net, ate a cliff bar for dinner then went to sleep.  This was about 1100.

TUESDAY 7/5 Caratuck ME (151.2)

The other two were up and packing around 0500 and being none too quiet about it.  I finally dragged myself out by 0700.  My legs were aching.  The couple from Bald Mountain was there and packing up their tent.  I noticed she was limping.

I gathered up some water and while it was filtering I walked down to this “pond”.  There was a dock and I walked out on it.  A NOBO was there relaxing and we chatted for a while.  I knotice how clear the water was.   It was beautiful.  

When I returned from the “pond” I went to the privy.  It was a large one with a porch.  All fancy-smancy.

Again with a 0930 start but Caratuck was only about 5 miles away.  I was going to get into a “town” which brightened my mood considerably. 

I was bebopping down this relatively flat easy trail with my mind on the creature comforts that a “town” offers when a Huron used its root to reachout and wrap itself around my right ankle, snatched me up in the air and then started slapping me back and forth into the ground like The Hulk did Loki in Ragnarok.  I was lucky it was only soft loam here but I still had to deal with epistaxis.  It wasn’t a great flow so I was able to stanch it in no time.  

I traveled on and but I kept myself a little more aware of my surroundings.  Soon the trail turned from the stream it had been following and climbed a hill.

A Samuel L. Jackson phase type of hill.  Straight up type of hill.  A hill that could have benefited with a switchback or two type of hill.  

A “I’m not in the mood for this” type of hill.

But the hill made up for its unpleasant north side with a gentle descent on the south side.

While in this area I ran into a couple of NOBO who had purple patches.  I asked them about those patches and it was from last year when they had started.  I congratulated them on their accomplishments and gave them a heads up on what to expect coming up then we headed our separate ways.

Soon I was healing highway sounds and started to get excited but not so excited as to not keep my eyes peeled for malicious Hurons.  I broke woods at a parking lot and walked down to the highway.  The Sterling Inn was about a mile ¼ south.  I had no phone signal so I started walking.  

It didn’t take me long to make the inn.  I was able to get a bunk and after a quick shower I took the shuttle to The Forks Kennebec Brew pub to get dinner.

The couple from Bald Mtn was there and they were staying at the inn too.

She was still limping.