100 Mile Wilderness

Journal Entry: June 3, 2010 – 100 Mile Wilderness

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Day 5

Rain.

The storm did not pass in the night as I was hoping.  The day was a blur.  The scenery was a blur.

Limp Along and I leap frogged all day.  The reality of my non-waterproof pants soaked in and chilled me.  It crept down under my gators, my boots and waterlogged my socks.  I’d like to say the scenery was beautiful but the rain and cold had me focused and introspective.  It was a grueling 8-mile hike.

Before leaving the site, I devised a way to keep most of the water from soaking my pack.  Two-thirds of a blue poncho, among other things, had been abandoned at the Rainbow Streams Lean-to.  I used it to make rain cover with one knot and strategic strap tucking.  It wasn’t pretty but functioned perfectly in preventing that extra water weight from accumulating and soaking my pants.

At one point the trail opened up onto a logging road.  Limp Along and I are pacing each other, about 30-feet apart.  It’s a slow steady incline, pouring, and the mosquitos are still a bother requiring netting.  We both came to the realization that something was a-miss.

“I think we missed the trail re-entry but it appears as though this logging road loops back into it further ahead.” Limp Along pointed to the line of the logging road when I reached him.  “Can you get my water bottle from the side of my pack and hand it to me?”

He put the map away and I handed him his water bottle.  He took a deep drink and then I put it back in the netted pocket on the side of his pack.  We continued on and sure enough, the trail’s entry appeared.  The logging road had looped and the trail cut across it twice.

We reached the Wadleigh Streams Lean-to just after 2 p.m. and decided to call it an early day.  The rain had not let up.  The lean-to was a welcome relief from it.

A couple appeared around 4 p.m.-ish, Just Bob and Trout.  Shortly after their arrival there is a reprieve from the rain for a few hours.  Some wood and tinder had been placed under the lean-to overhang and Just Bob got a fire going.  Trout and I strung up a blue nylon cord I had brought to dry our clothing and socks.  We stood up two large soaked logs and ran the cord back and forth four or five times.  It was a beautiful sight, the steam rising from the boots arranged around the fire pit to dry.

Just Bob and Trout looked to be near my age, probably a a couple years younger.  He was a military veteran and she was a semi-pro cross country ski competitor.  Trout said one day Just Bob had called and said, “Let’s hike the 100 Mile Wilderness.”  They shared some crystallized ginger with me, a welcome treat.  Both were quite taken with Maxwell and greeted him quite enthusiastically.

Limp Along had gone straight to bed, skipping an evening meal and did not stir until almost 8 p.m.  He did not say a word when he got up and quickly headed away from the lean-to.  I assume the privy.  He was gone a while and when he returned he went straight back to bed.  He didn’t introduce himself and said he was was feeling unwell.  I asked him if he’d like me to put his boots near the fire to dry.  He thanked me and then turned over and away in his sleeping bag.

Sometime in the middle of the night I heard the rain start up again.  It must have been around midnight or earlier.  Trout heard it too.  We both crawled out of our sleeping bags and rescued all the gear we’d left to dry by the out fire.

I had studied Pete Mason’s maps before going to sleep.  My sights were set on reaching the Antlers Tent Campsite tomorrow.  It would be a huge push.  If the weather was accommodating it’d be well worth it.

 

Distance: about 8.4-miles

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Journal Entry: June 2, 2010 – The 100 Mile Wilderness

Wednesday , June 2, 2010

Day 4

Woke up sometime before 5:30 a.m. to the sound of rustling plastic.

Mouse!  In my food!

I scrambled and pulled everything out to see what damage had been done.  Thankfully not much.  There were two holes chewed through two different bags of dried fruit and nuts.  Maxwell did not move once.  My little ratter.  I put everything in a spare garbage bag near my head.  When I looked up the little culprit was in front of me and headed back for seconds.  It ran when I reached for my pack.  Cute little bugger.

Up and headed around 7:00 a.m.  Today was a grueling one.  I hiked 11.5 miles, according to my map, from the Hurd Shelter to the Rainbow Streams Lean-to.  We walked through a multitude of ever-changing forest realities.  The bugs were out and thick.  I wore mosquito netting all day and sweated.

Stopped mid-day to rearrange gear.  My pack is heavy heavy.  Maxwell got the first aid kit and his rain jacket to carry.  Little pack dog.  I decided to drop some gear.  An easy decision.  I left soaked pink Nike sweatpants neatly folded on a downed tree.  Good-bye 10-lbs of dead weight.

The rest of the afternoon I leap-frogged with Limp Along.  Back and forth.  The two miles prior to reaching the lean-to was all mud, gnarly tree roots and swarms of insects.  Limp Along sat down on a rock and I continued on ahead.  At one point, I looked out through the trees to the lake on my right hearing voices on the water.  Was I hallucinating?  A canoe with two men in it paced me and then it paddled off, disappearing.  I paid it little mind.  I focused on picking my way carefully, steadily along the rooty trail.

The light was disappearing.  I was in a haze.  Then suddenly a gray shining rectangle appeared in my line of sight.  I blinked twice wondering if it was a mirage.  I tamped down that feeling of excitement and relief as I approached, just in case.  It was the lean-to.  Relief.  I thought back to the moose, seen earlier in the afternoon crossing the shallower open water, and smiled.

 

Distance: about 11.5 miles

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Journal Entry: July 7, 2010 – An Unexpected Delight

Last night, I had a lovely evening, dinner wine excellent conversation, with a good friend. I got back to the domes to an unexpected delight. A hot air balloon frolicking in the sky. I stood on the rail, eyes fixated, hand waving ‘hello’. The two people aboard waved back. They made their way from the backside of the domes, along the river and then quite precisely landed in the small parking area at the end of Old Bridge Road.
Some cars had pulled in and parked, lights flashing, doors left ajar. Maxwell and I ran down to join the other people captivated by the sight of the balloon. Strangers and friends, of the two men alike, worked together in releasing the hot air and gathering the balloon. A marvelous sight.
Many who had stopped to see the flight, left, their faces flush with happiness, their eyes a-glow. A man called out my name in a gentle greeting. A gentlemann from Tanzania, a friend of the balloonist was coiling up the annchor line.
I was invited to join in the celebratory champagne and toast, a toast to another successful flight and landing.
We stood in a small intimate circle, sharing ourselves and some stories. Two of the group were fellow hikers. One of whom had hiked the 100 Mile in her youth, another a travel writer for the Valley News. They invited me to join their hiking expedition of the Schemin, this September. I shared my plans to continue hiking on to Springer Mountain in Georgia, hopefully reaching it in mid-November. We exchanged our names and information and went our separate ways. A fortuitous and happy meeting of old and new friends.