Trail Letter 15: 6/22 and 6/23

20.6 of the wettest miles I’ve done yet. After 2 zero days, I’ze chompin’ at the bit to get back out. I hit the Trail at about 7, and at 7:30 it began to drizzle. The weather played this drizzle game until about 11:30, when I arrived at a shelter to take lunch. It cleared up while I was eating, but less than 5 minutes after I’d split from the shelter, a thunderstorm rolled in.

Now, usually I try to keep my feet dry as long as possible, but today any efforts were futile. First, sometimes the bog bridges look fine, but are actually floating — so that when you step on one, you’re instantly submerged to the ankle. After I found the first floating bog-bridge of the day, I laughed (as opposed to being very annoyed/irritated) because I could tell today was gonna be a wet-feet day. There were a good number of such floaters, but no matter — once you’ve soaked, you’re soaked.

So due to the thunderstorm, I had decided to cut the day short at a shelter 17 miles out. However, when I crested the mountain preceding the shelter, the rain stopped and I could see the sun! So I decided that another 405 miles would give my clothes/shoes some much needed drying time. 5 minutes after I continued, the thunderstorm came back. It lured me away from dryness so it could continue to soak my cold bones.

The Trail was literally a river/stream in 50% of its length today. I was stepping in 2′ deep puddles.

But all this wetness and ensuing discomfort is heavily dimmed by the fact that: I crossed into Maine today! When I saw the sign that read: “Welcome to MAINE – The way life should be,” I let out a big yell — it’s hard to believe my legs have carried me so far.

6/23

20.0 where’s-the-sun miles today. I think it’s been two or three weeks since I’ve seen a completely dry 24 hr. period. It’s not likely to change, either. Even though it’s been summer for two days now, it feels and looks like Spring here in Maine. Wildflowers are blooming, the woods are lush, and there’s mud everywhere!

About 6 miles into the hike, I came upon what is deemed by some as “the toughest mile on the Trail” — Mahoosuc Notch. It’s essentially a rock field requiring rock-climbing skills (and some minor spelunking skills). The estimated time taken to complete it is 3 hours, but I think most youthful hikers can do it in an hour. Took me about that. At the very beginning of the Notch, there lies a moose carcass as an omen. I was hoping to have lots of fun at the Notch, but all the wet, slippery rocks really cramped my style.

Hitched into Andover for the night. At the hostel I’m at, I met a former thru-hike-atemptee (‘05) who is currently reading the Casteneda books (about don Juan). We had some great discussion lasting late last night, so I may sleep in…. his name is Mr. Natural.