Thursday, August 11th

ME Route 15 (2079.8 mi) to Cloud Pond Lean-To (2099.0 mi)

Hiking Miles: 19.2

Total Ascent: 4,735.9 ft

Total Descent: 3,460.3 ft

Total Grade: 427.9 ft/mi

Steps: 40,765

STYX – Come Sail Away

Gator/Sunrise: Great night’s sleep! It would indeed be the last “comfortable” sleeping arrangement before we complete the full trail. We would soon be entering the much anticipated 100-mile Wilderness (Croc’s so-called Victory Lap) and living unsupported. I wish we could say we began our day with a hearty traditional Inn breakfast, but that would be far from the truth. Our sit-down breakfast featured an extremely small portion (even for non-hikers) – a spoonful of scrambled eggs & hash browns, one strip of bacon, a small cup of yogurt, orange juice and coffee. An elderly couple (eighties?) sitting at a table beside us were surprisingly shocked when they were served their plates. The old gentleman (not a big man at all) was serious when he asked the server (who I believe was the chef) where the rest of his breakfast was. And the chef looked so proud of her culinary creation, but we undoubtedly could have devoured five of them! Next stop – the country store for extra large muffins and breakfast sandwiches!!

We also stopped to purchase a reserve power bank knowing we would have little access to utilities within the wilderness. And our last stop was the Appalachian Trail Conservancy in Monson, ME to pick up our official AT hiker tags and to ask specific questions regarding what’s ahead.

The lady at the Conservancy was extremely helpful, but honestly too helpful. She was explaining every nuance of the wilderness in excruciating detail (with many handouts). At that rate, we were looking at 30 minutes of data gathering including every ford along the way. It was painful for me mentally because I was overly anxious to get started (it was pushing 10 AM). Croc was wonderful with the lady and he knew just how to efficiently acquire the information we needed without being rude. We finally were handed our official AT (red) tags, along with several information packets, then we complimented and thanked her. Just before leaving, we met a NOBO hiker named “Dolly” who had unfortunately received a burn on trail. Teresa gladly offered to drive her to a Walgreens to pick up some ointment after dropping us off at the ME Route 15 trailhead. And once there, she picked up two more NOBO hikers headed to Shaw’s Hiker Hostel. Teresa was so sweet. The next time we see her, we would be official AT Thru Hikers!

We entered the 100-mile Wilderness and immediately were making good time. We witnessed several beautiful river sightings along the way, and I thought how tough could this wilderness be. Our goal was to reach a shelter approximately 20 miles in, although knowing it would be tight to do so before nightfall. Clouds were pushing in as well so there was a threat of rain to consider.

Late in the day, we stopped at a private home just off trail where a sign said “Trail Magic”. Croc had checked it out and when I finally caught up with him, he explained that a guy named “Bird Man” was grilling chicken and he said to stop by. A group of us sat at a picnic table and enjoyed some amazing food including home grown veggies. We learned how Bird Man was continuing a tradition that his good friend had started (serving food to hikers) before that friend unfortunately passed away a few years back.

Not long after finishing our meal that it began to rain. We quickly said our Thank You’s and our Good-Byes, then hustled down the path leading back to the trail. We still had a few miles to go (including two fords), and it was getting slippery and dark in a hurry. I survived the first ford by staying dry, however I mis-stepped on a rock just before reaching solid ground on the second ford and completely submerged my shoes. At that point, I figured I might as well just walk through fords from here on out with my OBOZ on whereas they will remain wet for a long while now.

A lady who we had met at Birdman’s was hiking with us and she decided to stop and tent for the evening right after that ford because it was much too hard for her to continue hiking in the dark. Croc and I hiked on and by 9:30 pm, we arrived at the Cloud Pond Lean To where fortunately there was room enough for us to sleep in the shelter. We didn’t talk much, but I did say to myself over and over “Welcome to the 100-mile Wilderness!”

Croc: I want to give another HUGE shoutout to Mom for driving all the way out to Monson, ME, to make sure we were well-fed and well-rested for the last leg of our journey. We often forget that these trips involve finding us at a random location in the woods, usually without cell service, and require a 4+ hour drive one-way (not to mention the 12+ hour drives to Virginia). All we see is the car pull up and the car pull out. So thank you again for grabbing us and finding a bed and breakfast to stay at. You are the true trail angel.

Hoping to grab one more proper meal before we entered back into the wilderness to finish our journey, we were shocked to see the breakfast was nothing more than a few scraps of food. This might sound ungrateful, but even a continental breakfast at a motel would offer more food. I would have taken a few protein bars over the measly strip of pre-cooked bacon. The yogurt they had was delicious, but it was nothing more than a tablespoon sitting in a dessert wine glass. Gator and I finished breakfast in seconds and even Mom wasn’t full. As Gator mentioned, a guy from another table even joked (or maybe it wasn’t a joke) that he was waiting for the second course. The icing on the cake was that the chef came out to admire her work. We didn’t have the heart to tell her that portion sizes weren’t even enough for a midnight snack. The frustration comes from the fact that the bed and breakfast probably wasn’t cheap and it boasted a beautiful dining room while serving a meal for ants using gas station groceries. No worries, though, because Gator and I had to go to Monson anyway to get back on the trail and grab our hiker tags, so we were able to grab sandwiches before we hiked.

On our way to Monson, we wasted some time traveling to multiple stores to find a spare power bank. I was worried that five days in the 100-mile wilderness, plus an additional day up Katahdin, might drain our phone batteries. Not to mention rechargeable headlamps, headphones, and spare batteries. Normally, we could “suck it up,” but we needed to be in contact with Mom to ensure she could grab us after Katahdin and to take photos at the end. We “wasted” time because we went to several stores that did not have any power banks. Every time I go shopping these days I see 100s of power banks, especially in the impulse aisles. Eventually, we found one that also acted as a wallet, which was kind of cool but not really needed. Beggars can’t be choosers, so I grabbed the charger and added it as a spare for me and Gator.

When we got to Monson, we stopped by the ATC for guidance on hiking through the wilderness and, more importantly, how to exit the wilderness and grab a spot at the Birch Campsite. The kind, talkative lady at the counter provided some backup options such as paying to stay at Abol Bridge, which would be 10 additional miles on the final day, or 6 additional miles if you take the blue-blaze. If you didn’t want to do 15 miles up Katahdin, you could still stay at Abol Bridge and then the next day be the first to sign up for the Birch Campsite, but that would result in another day of hiking, splitting up that 15 miles into 10 miles and 5 miles. Also, we could book a stay at a reserved campsite if an external hiker couldn’t make it, but that option was tricky because we’d be relying on an opening in the middle of August and had no way to drive around the giant park to get to the site. Lastly, we could stay in town and hope for a shuttle in the morning before the Katahdin quota was hit. It was all nice information, but we were really just relying on being one of the first 12 people to get to the Birch Campsite.

We were able to grab our official hiker tags at the ATC too! They were much better than the printed paper versions that we had to cut out at the Harper’s Ferry ATC. It seemed kind of silly just getting these during our last 5 days on the trail.

Outside the ATC, we met a lady who was only partly through the 100-mile wilderness and had to get off due to a burn. I was more interested in how long they were in the 100-mile wilderness. It’s tough to judge based on comparing yourself to other hikers since we all have our own paces. Especially since we were seasoned NOBOs and many of the SOBOs hadn’t gotten their hiker legs yet. Obviously, we weren’t comparing ourselves to the famous Quadzilla who hiked it in 2.5 days (40 miles a day), nor were we comparing ourselves to the hiker we just met that took 10 days (or 10 days to get to whatever point she got to, but at best that’s 10 miles a day). The other tricky factor is that great hikers may also take their time in the wilderness since it’s their last days on the trail and the scenery is beautiful. So someone like Double Trouble could finish it in 3 days but opted to take 5 days (6 if you count the 10 miles from Abol Bridge to Birch Campsite). Ultimately, we figured we’d just do our best and try to get to the Birch Campsite in 5 days (22 miles a day).

This may have occurred the day before, but when we were visiting Shaw’s Hostel, we overheard a couple of workers looking for Dijeridoo. We just couldn’t get away from this guy. I believe his brother flew in to see him off for the last ~100 miles of trail before he would finish his triple crown (PCT, CDT, and AT). Dijeridoo was technically a day ahead of us since we said our farewell to him on top of the Bigelows and then we had to go back and finish the Crookers the next day, but we figured we got a day ahead of him when we jumped a section. However, even though he hadn’t yet arrived at Shaw’s, we knew he’d probably take a zero and then crush two 50-mile days in the wilderness to try to summit on the same day as us.

By the time we started our hike, it was already late morning, which would put us back a bit trying to hike 22 miles a day. However, we knew the last 50 miles of the wilderness were actually flat, so we’d likely hit some long days to make up for it.

About a mile into the 100-mile wilderness, we passed a SOBO gentleman who looked like he was on his last leg. He was a little hefty, with a giant pack, which is normal for SOBOs who are only 100 miles into their hike. I’d imagine we looked like that on our first couple of days before we lost weight and got rid of all our luxury items. It had also just rained for several days in a row, which made the river crossings uncrossable at times, so he was ready to get out of there. When we passed him, he said something like, “Thank god I’m only 1 mile until civilization again where I can have a hot shower and meal. Get me off this trail.” Honestly, even at this point of the trail with only the victory lap left, I still felt jealous of the SOBOs who were almost out of the 100-mile wilderness that we were just about to start.

The first part of the trail was actually very packed. Many day hikers were traveling in to enjoy the waterfall and lakes in the early section of the trail. It would have been a great rest stop, but Gator and I were already a little behind. I could see why so many SOBOs were so impressed with the trail since all they’ve known so far was Mt. Katahdin, endless rivers and lakes, and supreme, luscious views. Little did they know that after New Hampshire, the trail would get a lot more monotonous (yet still beautiful in a way) with fewer lakes, fewer ridge walks, and ultimately fewer hours of sunlight and warmth that I’d imagine would turn the landscape barren by November.

We had two large river crossings today that involved us taking off our shoes and socks and holding a rope to pass. I’d imagine this was even harder when it had been raining all week. An older gentleman saw me putting my new shoes back on after a crossing and couldn’t believe that I was a thru-hiker because my shoes were so clean (I had just bought them). I was like, “Look at my beard, my ripped bag, my stained clothes…”

Towards the end of the day, I was a little ahead of Gator and saw a sign that said “Trail Magic.” I dropped my bag and ran down the path to determine if it was worth the detour for Gator. Nothing would be worse than both of us going 0.5 miles for something that didn’t exist because someone forgot to take down the sign. Luckily, there was a little cabin where Bird Man was cooking chicken for hikers. I told him I’d be right back to grab my dad to make sure Gator didn’t accidentally walk by the junction point. When both of us arrived back at the cabin, Bird Man had the food ready and we enjoyed dinner with some other hikers. I was trying to see if Bird Man would let us sleep in his cabin for the night because of the impending storms, but he only offered to let us tent in his yard. That was still very generous, but Gator and I would rather just bust out another mile to get to a shelter.

Unfortunately, the storms rolled in and it started to downpour. We only had about a mile and a half to get to the shelter, but the darkness of the storm (which forced us to grab our headlamps) and the slippery rain slowed us down drastically. We were also slowed down by (1) trying to strategically keep our feet dry across river crossings and (2) staying with a nervous middle-aged lady who was worried about the storm.

Eventually, we embraced the fact that we couldn’t get “more wet” and just hiked straight through the middle of the river crossings. At this point the lady also broke away from us and decided to stealth camp in the woods. As we “embraced the suck” it actually turned out to be one of the most fun times I had on trail. We just let nature happen. It may have also been the first time we hiked during an active lightning storm.

Although it wasn’t that late by the time we hit the shelter (maybe 9PM?), it was dark and well past hiker midnight. Luckily, we had already eaten dinner and could go right to bed after ripping off our wet clothes. I don’t want to blame the wrong people, but I’m pretty sure this was the shelter where one of the guys that was already in the shelter was pissed that we came in so late during the storm. I get that it was “late,” but it wasn’t like 1:00AM and it also wasn’t a beautiful, clear night where we could look around for stealth spots. I think the guy must have been a SOBO that wasn’t used to people hiking long hours yet. The next morning I recall him yelling in the shelter and being obnoxious loud. Even his hiking mate told him to shut up. He was likely doing it to wake us up in the morning.

Overall, it was a hectic, yet fun day to start our victory lap. Although, the prospect of already being wet was not exciting.