Tuesday, August 9th

East Flagstaff Road (2022.7 mi) to Pierce Pond Lean-To (2039.1 mi)

Hiking Miles: 16.4

Total Ascent: 2,294.0 ft

Total Descent: 2,253.3 ft

Total Grade: 277.2 ft/mi

Steps: 39,506

GEORGE HARRISON – My Sweet Lord

Gator/Sunrise: It was time to say good-bye to the Hostel of Maine and its comfy accommodations. For days now, we have been planning and coordinating for Teresa to make yet another trip to meet us at a Rte 201 parking lot tomorrow morning just after we canoe across the Kennebec River. The primary reason for her visit was to offload hiking items that we didn’t need (thus lightening our load) in the 100-mile Wilderness. We also strategized that we would bypass a section of benign trail to provide flexibility for summiting Mount Katahdin, and would likewise take advantage of a final resupply to assure we had plenty of essential food for our final stretch.

Today involved a 16 mile hike through somewhat benign terrain, rare for Maine, however there were those “pain in the ass” fords to cross. I was seriously tired of the fact there were so many of them to cross without the aid of one single bridge. We made a couple of key stops for breaks which I desperately needed, one being at a beautiful Arnold’s Point Beach setting. The Skogman’s likewise stopped there and Fish (Grayson) took full advantage of a dip in the lake.

The Pierce Pond Lean To was our target destination, as was the case for everyone else who set off with us this morning. Within a few miles of the site, we had just crossed one of the shallower streams when we were approached by an oncoming female SOBO hiker. Now I will pause to reemphasize that no one on trail has come close to Kelly from the Boots Off Hostel (remember her?) back in Tennessee for being (excuse the term) “bitchy” on trail. But today we met a close second.

This young lady, definitely in her twenties, was physically fit and looked like a hiker. But mindfully, being on trail was an entitlement and not a privilege for this girl. Realizing that the her southbound journey at this point was only going to get harder in Southern Maine and New Hampshire over the next 200 miles, she was ranting (screaming was more like it) about the lack of “free” hut accommodations in the Whites. She carried on about how inhumane it was for the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) to charge hikers high rates to stay in huts. And those who couldn’t afford to pay were treated like dogs by having to sleep on filthy floors and beg for food. She even assumed that I was one of those people who paid to stay there. “I absolutely paid to stay there” I replied. “But we gladly would have camped out on the floor if necessary”. After all, Croc and I did sleep on “fertilized” soil and dirty shelter floors several times during this trip. It wasn’t long before Croc had enough of her negativity, and he simply hiked on. For me, there was something about her though that made me like her, but I had absolutely no idea why. It must have clearly had something to do with my whole body system (mentally and physically) starting to break down at this point. With that, I wished her luck and moved on.

Croc and I were two of the first hikers to arrive at the Pierce Pond Lean To site. I think Bumble Beast and Rollo would have beat us here for sure however Rollo had unfortunately turned his ankle along the way and spent a good amount of time at a rest stop to regroup. Fortunately, there were plenty of ample tent spots available, they just weren’t nicely groomed or flat. The overall location did provide a peaceful haven by the pond to chill and to enjoy dinner and conversation.

Croc decided he would stay in the Lean-To for the evening, especially whereas it came equipped with a citronella candle to keep the pesky mosquitoes away. This actually turned out to be one of his favorite stays in a shelter (I believe) so I will leave that for him to elaborate. Originally, I had set up my tent up on the hillside, but immediately changed my mind and moved to a flatter spot right behind the shelter and closer to the lake.

The other hiker groups eventually rolled into the campground (the Skogman’s & Leg, Livin’ It & Lovin’ It, Bumble Beast & Rollo, etc.) about two dozen of us, and we all eventually spread out and enjoyed an evening dinner near the lake. Some of the folks were talking about stopping at a place off trail that served a great pancake breakfast in the morning. I for sure would have been down for pancakes had we not scheduled an early pick-up. Our goal was to meet Teresa by 10 am right after the canoe ride across the Kennebec.

One more worthy thing to note. Another female hiker who I had not seen before on trail, and who was eating her dinner with us lakeside, began criticizing the Skogman’s for taking their children away from their education to hike six months on the AT. She rambled on stating something to the effect that “Those kids are getting a disservice” amongst other choice words with an angry tone to her voice. That is when I thought Croc was going to totally lose his shit! He retorted something like: “Let me tell you something – those kids are the fucking smartest and polite kids I’ve ever met. They are always either reading, solving math problems, or engaging in mature and extremely articulate conversations with everyone on trail. Their parents are true educators and are doing an outstanding job with raising all of them”. EVERYONE else hearing this exchange totally agreed and chimed the same sentiments as Croc. Needless to say, that completely shut her up! YOU ROCK CROC!!!

I’m not sure what happened after that this evening, but we soon found ourselves comfy and asleep in our quilts.

Croc: Gator and I made sure to take advantage of breakfast since it would be one of our last hostel meals on trail. Actually, we would have one more non-trail breakfast before Katahdin, but it was so hilariously tiny that I don’t even count it (we’ll get to that on a future day). Shortly after breakfast, we all jumped into the van and got shuttled back to the trailhead about an hour north. It wasn’t as bittersweet as most days when we’d leave a hostel because we knew we would only have one day in the woods and then Mom was going to meet us the following day after we crossed the Kennebec River.

On the ride to the drop-off, we had a long conversation about camping at the Birch Campsite, which is the campsite at the base of Mt. Katahdin. Although it’s purely for thru-hikers, the campsite strictly only allows a limited number of hikers to stay there each night (I think 12?). That might not sound too bad, but the Skogmans have a family of five, so they would likely have trouble fitting all five people if they got there later in the day. It’s especially hard because many people camp at the Abol Bridge (10 or so miles from the Birch Campsite) and get up at 7:00 AM to claim spots. The one plus is that you have to have just hike the 100-mile wilderness to camp there, so that eliminates many people who drive in from the hostel in town. Anyways, it’s critical to get a spot because instead of “just” hiking 5 miles up and 5 miles back down the hardest mountain (Katahdin) on the trail, you’d be forced to add another 10 miles if you stayed at the Abol Bridge campsite. It was more of a complaining session on the difficulty of finding a place to stay, but it passed the time nonetheless.

After we got dropped off and started to hike, as Gator mentioned, the terrain was benign with no mountains to cover today but still had its fair share of roots and rivers. We did crisscross with a number of hikers today (mostly everyone from the hostel), including the Skogmans, Leg, Bumble Beast, and Rollo. It felt like we had a semi-trail family again! We eventually led the pack when the Skogman’s kids started to swim in the lake, and Rollo and Bumble Beast decided they were in no rush.

Gator and I hysterically did meet a crazy SOBO lady who was ranting about the huts in New Hampshire and how much you have to pay to stay there. There was legitimately nothing we could say that would calm her down. Even when we mentioned work-for-stays, blue-blazes, or the fact that if you have a strong pace, you could legitimately get away with staying at cheaper $30 hostels or $5 campsites throughout New Hampshire. I did find it very ironic that she was complaining about sleeping on the ground like dogs, even though we do that basically every single day in the woods. Kind of the whole point of the trail? Maybe she was the one person on trail more “bougie” than us.

We eventually got to the campsite, and I opted to stay in the shelter while Gator pitched his tent. I wasn’t a huge fan of the spots that were available because they seemed kind of rocky and uneven. I was a little nervous about potential mosquitoes in the shelter, but the citronella candles gave me enough confidence to stay. After setting up my sleeping situation, I walked over to an open space by the lake to enjoy some dinner with the other campers staying for the night. It was a nice, friendly dinner with a view and loons singing in the background. In the photo above, Leg is the older fellow sitting in front of me with the big bushy, white beard. The Skogman’s kids were still bundles of energy and were running around trying to catch fish in the lake. While they were having the time of their lives, some random lady (not even a thru-hiker) decided to make a comment that these kids “should be in school.” Keep in mind this was the middle of summer, so every other kid their age was probably playing video games at home anyways. I was always grumpy on the trail, but this just made me livid, so I exploded at her. Luckily, everyone else there had the Skogmans’ back, and we basically all took turns proving this lady wrong.

After dinner, I headed back to the shelter and was happy to find that I only had to split it with one other person, Leg. I still felt bad for calling Leg out for drinking Gator’s Gatorade, so I was glad we could share a moment in the shelter and have a nighttime conversation. We shared stories about our experiences on the trail while watching the sunset and listening to the candle burn. Leg shared a story about one of his coldest nights on the trail where his sleeping pad popped, so he was sleeping directly on the ground. He had to pack clothes under his body just to create some space between him and the ground and conserve heat. I think I fell asleep while we were talking because all I remember after that was waking up to the sunrise. Overall, it was a very peaceful night listening to the crackle of the candle and the loons.