Saturday, July 30th

US Route 2 (1896.0 mi) to Carlo Col Shelter (1913.0 mi)

Hiking Miles: 17

Total Ascent: 6,494.8 ft

Total Descent: 4,087.9 ft

Total Grade: 621.9 ft/mi

Steps: 57,530

ABBA – Mama Mia

Gator/Sunrise: Happy 39th Anniversary Teresa! I woke up at least 3 or 4 times in the middle of the night and it is not coincidental that one time it was “1:43” (“I Love You” in number form) AM so I snapped a photo so I could send it to Teresa today.

This morning we headed out at 7:30 am in two separate cars shuttling everyone to the trail head. Croc and I were the last to board and there was only one spot available in each car so I went in Bob’s car and Croc went in Paul’s. I sat in the front seat near the passenger door next to Dijeridoo in the middle. At the trailhead, Dij joined three other hikers and they all power hiked down the trail and out of sight. Croc and I knew at some point (maybe points) that we would meet up with him again (it was becoming a habit). In fact, we commented that we likely would be summiting Katahdin with him on the same day!

Two hours into our hike (10 AM), we reached the 1900 mile mark on trail, putting us approximately 12 miles from the Maine border. Even though this was our “19th” 100-mile mark, each time it provided a feeling of pride and accomplishment, and never taken for granted.

The views were breathtaking, and we stopped to take them in for short moments.

At 6:20 pm, I finally reached the top of the last major mountain in New Hampshire, Mount Success. Croc was already there waiting for me once again. But this time, the winds were brutal and it was freezing. The winds were perhaps even stronger than the day we climbed Mount Lafayette, and the temperature close to that bitter cold night in New Jersey! It was so windy that it it was difficult to hear ourselves speak.

By 7:50 pm, we reached the Maine border and took our traditional celebratory pics in front of the sign. We still had a little ways to go before reaching the Carlo Col Shelter site and the sun was setting. The path leading to the site was no picnic. There was a steep rock descent that we had to jump down. I remember thinking that I had no idea how an elderly gentleman hiker that I had passed earlier (trail name Toast) was going to make that jump.

By 9:30 pm, we finally made it the path leading to Carlo Col Shelter and we stopped for water at a small stream along the way. The tent spots were sketchy at best and we were able to find a semi-flat location pinched between two trees. The tight space on either side of my tent made it difficult for even a contortionist to get in and out.

Croc: Wouldn’t you know Dijeridoo caught up with us again. I must have missed him the night before since I was ready to get to bed. Maybe he stayed on the downstairs couch or outside, but I don’t remember him coming up to the loft. But there he was, cruising along again.

Even though we hit 1,900 miles and our last state, today was pretty uneventful. We left with a rather large group, but they quickly went ahead, and it felt like we were hiking alone for most of the day. In the morning, we met a gentleman who was planning his future stay at a hostel in Maine (Pine Ellis?) that provided slack packs for Southern Maine. That seemed like a pretty sweet deal and would dramatically help us in these tough stretches, so I began reaching out to 4-5 hostels in the area. Unfortunately, Pine Ellis was full, and many of the other hostels didn’t provide slack-packs. There was one amazing luxury spa and retreat hostel that I wanted to stay at because they had yoga, hot tubs, good wifi, smoothies, etc., but they also did not provide slack-packs, so that was ultimately off the table. We joked that this was definitely the hostel that Dijeridoo was staying at. Eventually, we settled on staying at the last hostel remaining, the Cabin, which we’d hit in a couple of days.

Surprisingly, this was the first time on the trail that we actually struggled to find a hostel to stay at. We started our hike north of the bubble in Virginia and skipped that disaster, and then jumped back down to Georgia to a relatively empty trail, so most of the time we could book a hostel the day of, or the day before. We even had the luxury of booking the day of when we jumped back north to New York for the final stretch since it was really just the remaining thru-hikers that didn’t drop out. But now we were battling with summer hikers, southbounders, and the remaining northbound bubble, so we had to be on top of our game booking hostels.

Towards the end of the day, I went ahead of Gator to power through the climb up Mt. Success. As Gator mentioned, it was extremely cold and windy while I waited for him at the top. I had to huddle behind a rock, and I felt the chill creeping in. It was probably the second coldest I felt on the trail compared to the coldest day in New Jersey. Gator eventually arrived, and he took a quick video for Mom celebrating their anniversary. Seeing that it was getting darker and darker every day, we quickly moved on to get to the upcoming campsite and to cross into Maine!

We didn’t have as big of a celebration as we probably wanted to have when crossing into Maine because it was late and we were exhausted. I think we both just wanted to eat dinner and go to bed. Of course, when we were about 0.1 miles from the campsite, we had to go down one of the biggest rock scrambles of the trail. It wasn’t just a scramble; it was literally a hands-and-feet rock climb down a cliff. It involved hanging over a ledge and jumping down 2-3 feet with our full packs, which did a number on our knees and ankles. I unfortunately lost my hiker tag somewhere in that scramble, but I was looking forward to getting a new one in Maine anyway.

We probably should have stealth camped because the campsite was another 0.3 miles down a blue blaze trail, and we found the shelter and campsites completely full. We ended up squishing between trees on an uneven plot of ground that I think someone used as a bathroom because we found used toilet paper nearby in the morning. Overall, not a great day for us hitting our last state.