Greatest Mountain: Katahdin 8/7 2009

Katahdin in the language of the Abenaki indians means "Greatest Mountain". It couldn't be truer - it is undoubtedly the Northeast's greatest mountain. Earlier this summer I thought I had finally completed all of the Appalachian Trail in Maine and New Hampshire. I realized that although I had climbed Katahdin a couple of times before, I had never done the Hunt trail, the last leg of the 2175 mile Appalachian Trail.

I try and make the pilgrimage to Baxter State Park once a year. I had a Friday off coming up and the forecast was looking good. My brother Aaron and I had been trying to find a day to do a hike together all summer but hadn't had any luck. We decided that we'd go for it and I was excited. Our father lives in Dexter, in a beautifully renovated camp about halfway to Baxter so we planned to head up to Dexter the night before and then go from there. I had also been trying to get my friend Shawn, mandolinist for the Muddy Marsh Ramblers, to get out for a trip.  He thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail a few years back and we had done some fun trips together in the past. It wasn't until the last minute that we figured out he would be able to join us. Aaron and Shawn had never met but I knew we'd have a great time together.

HEAD NORTH YOUNG MAN

As usual, I had a gig.  I left Kennebunkport at about 7:30pm and headed up to Gray to pick up Shawn.  We were going to meet Aaron in Dexter and follow him to Greenville then up the Golden Road, a dirt logging road owned by the paper companies.  We'd take the Golden Road from Kokadjo to the park entrance.  Our friends Shawn and Carlene had recently bought a lease to a camp right on the Golden Road about 25 miles from the park entrance, we planned to leave Aaron's truck there and all ride to the park together and afterward Aaron was going to stay with them for the weekend.

I picked Shawn up and met his gal LeAnna, who wished us well. The long ride to Dexter flew by as Shawn and I got caught up on each other's lives. It was really great to see him again, we had some riotously good times on our trips in the past. Soon we arrived in Dexter, my brother had already hit the hay, it was nearly 11pm.  My Dad had waited up for us and we talked for a bit before heading to bed for a few hours sleep.

We awoke at 3:30am and Dad had breakfast going - eggs, homefries and bacon made for a solid base for the day's journey.  We topped off our coffee and thanked him for the hospitality and then began the long drive. We took it fairly slow to Greenville as moose love to just walk into the road whenever they damn well feel like it and in our groggy states and the darkness I didn't want to take any chances.

We had our first moose sighting in Kokadjo, a large cow was lying on the side of the road apparently hit by a truck. The Golden Road is a wide dirt road, usually in good shape except in occasional spots where mini boulders in the road threatened to destroy my tiny Toyota Yaris with one shot. I was glad to be following Aaron who was swerving around the major bumps to let me know. We reached our friend's camp after a couple hours, it is a sweet spot just off the road, right next to what is known locally as "the good spring".  We left Aaron's truck there and all piled into my car.

We were now about 25 miles from the park entrance and the sun was up.  The Golden Road belongs to the paper companies, in more ways than one. When a logging truck comes along you GET THE HELL OUT OF THEIR WAY! They don't slow down and some trucks have extendable arms on the side of the trailers, making them twice as wide as a normal truck. Luckily we only saw one of the double-wides, and not on a corner. I was in a hurry and was reminded by my brother "You need to bring the big iron if your going to be so aggressive"! We crossed Abol Bridge, a sturdy one lane bridge which spans the mighty Penobscot River.  It is the site of what is probably the most famous photo of the mountain, a clear shot of the west side reflected in the river. The view of the mountain in the clear really got us excited for our climb. The forecast for the day was 70% chance of showers and thunderstorms in the afternoon so we were hoping for an early start.

I knew there was a crossroad that connected the Golden Road to the Park Tote road which parallel one another for about 10 miles, but only one of them is in good condition and the others are horrible and impassible by my little car.  We drove all the way to Katahdin Air Service and then turned back onto the park road. Soon we reached the painted rock, an enormous boulder painted with a mountain scene and Katahdin summit in the background. It was after seven but we were getting close now! The park is extremely popular during the summer and Roaring Brook is the most popular trailhead and has a limited number of day use spots in the parking lot. It is where the Chimney Pond trail begins, the standard route up the mountain. Our plan was to hike up the Abol Trail which is the most direct route to the summit, then down the Hunt Trail to Katahdin Stream Campground where we would hike/hitch along the park road back to the Abol trailhead 4 miles away. We arrived at the gatehouse and saw that of course Roaring Brook was full. We told the ranger we wanted to hike up Abol and they said "great" and promptly brought out the sign indicating that the Abol trailhead was now full as well!  We had made it just in the nick of time. Entrance to the park if free for Maine residents (thank you Mr. Baxter!). It's incredible to think of the vision and generosity of men like Percival Baxter to give away such a beautiful place to forever be preserved for people to enjoy.

GOING UP

We got our packs ready in the parking lot and prepared for our climb. I had climbed Katahdin via the Abol Slide once before on my first visit to the mountain. I now knew enough NOT to descend the slide, a tedious, knee-busting affair. In the lot my brother was checking out my new trekking poles, a pair of Black Diamond carbon fiber poles. I liked them because of the easy flick lock system and they collapsed down very small for stowing on the outside of my pack. Aaron commented that they didn't have the shock mounts like my older Leki poles but I explained the carbon fiber had dampening properties (I have a pair of BD Cobra ice tools that are carbon fiber and they are great). He laughed "Excuse me, Mr. Carbon Fiber."

The name Abol is derived from the Abenaki word Aboljackarnegassic, meaning “bare” or “devoid of trees”. The Abol slide is just that - an open rock slide that runs from the base of the mountain up to the Tableland, an expansive flat area from which Baxter peak only rises about 200 feet or so. The trail is a steep as they come in the Northeast, rising almost 4000 feet in a couple miles. It's a great way to climb Katahdin, the views start early and get better as you go and the next thing you know you're on the tableland.

We signed the trail register just after 8am and set out on the trail after having a laugh about the picture of the green guy on the "What if I'm not ready?" sign. We were fully prepared, with warm clothes, water and plenty of food. Shawn had plenty of beef jerky and a bag of nuts, which he referred to as his "nut sack". The first part of the trail is a cakewalk, gently following the steam and slowly gaining elevation. There were lots of folks on the trail today, and we would pass and be passed by various groups several times as we ascended. Soon we reached the base of the slide and the views began to open up. The slide is strange, it starts out as a lot of small rocks and gravel and as you get higher, turns to large then enormous boulders stacked precariously.

We were beginning to head up into the clouds now and the view of the woods and lakes below was spread out below us. The higher we climbed, the steeper the trail became. It was a perfect temperature and I was feeling strong despite having hiked 40 miles just three days prior.

Aaron pointed out that the boulder in the left side of this photo was only resting on three points, each less than four square inches! I didn't linger too long here.


I recalled from a previous trip seeing a van sized boulder WAY off to the side of the trail, clearly marked with a blue blaze, meaning it had once been part of the trail but had slid down the mountain at some point. We had now entered the clouds. We were making good time, almost reaching the tableland in under two hours.

I was wondering how my trail runners would perform on the bare rocks but they seemed to be doing great. The threat of rain had me a little concerned, as I had read the tread on my shoes was less than ideal on wet rocks. After one last very steep bit, the world turned horizontal again and we were on the Tableland.

The clouds

My brother, the lightning rod

Three amigos, Baxter peak in the background

As we enjoyed our break we heard a far off rumble of thunder and the clouds looked ominous. We decided to book it to the summit before things got any worse. We passed Thoreau Spring, the junction of our trail and the Hunt trail. We were about a mile of relatively flat walking on rocks from the summit at this point.

The clouds were thickening as we crossed the tableland and the summit drew nearer. We were stopped by Michelle, the "Alpine Steward" who's job it is to inform folks as to the dangers of being here in a storm and also help educate people about the fragile plants in the area. I remembered meeting her once before a few years prior. My good buddy Pete and I had just completed the Hundred Mile Wilderness, the last 99.1 miles of the AT before climbing Katahdin. There are no roads crossing this section and it virtually guarantees a wild experience. We had cruised it in four and a half days, and at the end of the trail we met Michelle. She was stationed there to inform AT thru hikers about the park's policies etc. I remember saying to her "Your hair smells SO clean!" - the scent of shampoo was very strong to me after a week of wearing smelly polypro. Today, she warned us of the impending storm and gave us some basic advice on what to do in case of a lightning strike. We set off at a run for the peak!


WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN

Once on the summit the weather really began to deteriorate. There were at least forty people on the summit when the wind picked up and the first drops of rain fell on us. Many of the folks we had been leap-frogging us all day were utterly unprepared - no water, no warm clothing, raingear or food.

When the wind picked up and many hikers began to don their hats, gloves and rain jackets, I couldn't help but feel very sorry for the unequipped families. I saw a look of understanding on their faces as they realized what that sign at the base of the mountain had meant when it warned of cold weather and high winds on the summit.

We had a laugh when Shawn informed us that he had torn his nut sack! He had borrowed a shell jacket from LeAnna, who once worked for News 13, the local CBS affiliate in Portland. It was embroidered with the STORM TEAM 13 logo, and usually worn by the poor reporters who are forced to stand in the rain by the ocean in a hurricane or hang out all evening on Congress Street in a blizzard to give up to the minute reports.

Shawn sang out occasionally "THE FORECAST CALLS FOR PAIN!" In about five minutes the weather went from ominous to downright shitty! We couldn't see 15 feet ahead of us and the wind really started to pick up. It was DEFINITELY time to go!

At this point as thunder was rumbling more frequently, I laughed and mentioned the benefits of my carbon fiber poles to Aaron, who was using my older metal poles. He followed me for bit with his pole resting on my shoulder so I might be a conductor. We really kicked it into high gear, we knew we had a long descent with absolutely no place to hide from the weather, the only option was to get down to tree line almost three miles away. I was really thinking about how my shoes were going to grip the soaking wet rocks on the descent. As we cruised along I had an image from the summit in my head of a young girl in a pink sweatshirt and shorts with her parents and two young brothers. I imagined what their journey to safety might be like. I had plenty of food and water, was wearing my hat, rain shell and gloves & we were moving fast but I was still feeling really cold. 

The rain turned to sideways sleet and the wind really began to blow hard as we reached the edge of the Tableland and turned west to begin our long descent down the Hunt trail, a narrow ridge made up entirely of boulders falling away steeply on both sides.

We were moving as fast as we dared, my shoes weren't slipping and after 30 minutes on the ridge we were finally below the clouds. There were many steep rock scrambles and the occasional iron rung bolted into the rock. When it became obvious we were out of the worst of it, we found a big rock to hunker down behind and took our first break in over an hour. I enjoyed a mini Snickers and we snapped some photos. We still had a long way to go, but we were in good spirits.

A little wet, but feeling great!

 

Looking back up the trail

The Unclef*cker with The Owl behind him

We settled into a steady pace, but the trail wasn't about to ease up anytime soon. We slid, scrambled and jumped down the steep steps until we reached "The Gateway" a series of boulder caves. Soon we entered the woods once again and the trail was a stream, which didn't matter one bit as our feet were drenched anyhow. We were passed by a guy from another group we had leapfrogged several times on the way up the slide. He was at a full run. He was running ahead to go retrieve their car which was parked at the Abol lot.

I had let Shawn borrow one of my poles as we began the steep descent, he was grateful and it was easier to use one pole there anyhow. Now that we were on the less rocky part, I wished I had my other pole back. Aaron and Shawn were a ways ahead of me for quite awhile and my pace was slowing as my knees were getting tired. 

We regrouped at Katahdin Stream Falls and I was happy to see my friends again. We took a very short break and it was only one mile left to the tote road. The trail gets steep one last time as it follows the beautiful stream. After a short mile, we arrived at the road. We started our walk up the dirt road fully prepared to walk the four miles back to the car. We were picked up by the second vehicle to come along, a very nice family in a Suburban - Mom and Dad in front, the three daughters in the middle and all their gear in the back. We all crawled in and piled on top of the packs and wet shoes (they had also summited today) I was sort of half sitting/half standing in a very awkward position, but I had no complaints. We soon came across the running guy we saw earlier, and laughed - Dad asked if he was our friend and we said "YES!"

We stopped to pick him up, he chose to stand on the running board with his arm through the window, trolly car style. Knowing how tight the road can get, it honestly made me a little nervous.

It truly is a small world. I asked the family where they were from, they answered "Gorham."  The banjo picker in our band is from Gorham, and his very talented daughter Sarah often plays the fiddle with us. I asked if any of the girls knew her, and they said "Yeah! She played her fiddle at the talent show - she was awesome!" I told them to tell her about our meeting. There was an awkward moment as someone (someone = Shawn) let out a nasty beef jerky fart - the girls were trying really hard not to laugh.

Soon we were back at the Abol campground and our vehicle. It had been just under eight hours since we left the car and looked forward to some dry clothes and hot food.

IT AIN'T OVER UNTIL YOU'RE STANDING IN THE SHOWER

Once again we drove out to the gatehouse and all the way back to the junction with the Golden Road. We drove back to Shawn & Carlene's place, and I was happy to see that they were home. Shawn and I played music together for several years when we were both first starting and I rarely get to see him. He showed us the tent platform behind their camper and said I was welcome to stay there anytime, even if they're not around. I'm not sure he even realizes what a special thing that is to me, and I will DEFINITELY be taking him up on his offer!

We hung out for an hour or so and then said goodbye to everyone, Shawn and I both had to work early the next day and many miles lay ahead of us. I hoped to stop in Medway at the Irving, where there USED to be a fantastic little home cookin' restaurant with outstanding homemade pie. Well, I am very sad to report that it is gone. Boo.

We hit the road and decided to hit Lincoln, there was a Pat's Pizza there and it sounded good - not a lot of options up there. I had never been to Lincoln so I figured so what if it's off the highway a bit. We cruised the strip, which took about 22 seconds. The Pat's Pizza looked a little nasty inside, but we just scaled for location and all was well. I had a greek pizza and some fried items, it probably wasn't just what I needed, but it was just what I wanted!

It was a long ride home as the sun had set and we were still well north of Bangor. We coffee'd up in Bangor and soon I was dropping Shawn off and headed home. The view of Doubletop from the Hunt Trail has me interested in climbing it soon...