Day 147: Lightning! Thunder! Hail!

August 1: I had a wonderful night cowboy camping, but got an early 6:00 AM start to the day in the hopes of beating rain that was forecasted later in the afternoon. It was hard to believe it could possibly rain, however. The sky was absolutely gorgeous!

The trail made a long drop towards Maine Highway 24, passing the 2,000-mile mark of the trail about a mile before it crossing the highway 5 miles east of Stratton--then steadily climbed back up to Horns Pond. I took a 0.2-mile off-trail detour to check out Cranberry Pond, but otherwise went straight through. It was non-eventful. Rugged, but with few views to enjoy. I hadn't even completed 10 miles yet, but passing the 2,000-mile mark of the trail was still a big milestone! =)

By the time I arrived at the Horns Pond Shelter just before noon, ugly clouds were rolling in, and they looked angry. I was ready for a quick lunch break and stopped to snack, not really wanting to call it quits for the day, but wondering if it was a good idea to continue ahead to the exposed peaks and ridges of the Bigelow Range immediately ahead. Despite the angry-looking clouds fast approaching, I could still see quite a bit of sun and blue skies as well.

About a half-hour later, I heard it: thunder. I was just about to keep going, but the sound of thunder rolling around in the shelter gave me pause. I knew the trail ahead was extremely exposed, above treeline, at the top of 4,000-foot peaks. It's not exactly an ideal place to be during a thunderstorm! I wasn't willing to call it quits for the day... not yet, at least. But I decided it might be prudent to wait a bit longer and see what happened.

Another half hour slowly dripped away as the thunder continued to get louder and closer. Eventually I could see the flashes of light--which was pretty remarkable for being the middle of the day. Then the hail came down--a deafening roar against the metal-roofed shelter. Even rain can be loud on a metal roof, but hail! OMG! It sounded like I had my head next to a jackhammer!

As the hail ramped up, the temperature seemed to plummet by 10 degrees in a matter of seconds. I quickly put on my fleece jacket, earplugs and decided to call it a day. 

I was very, very glad I was in the shelter and not being pounded by hail and lightning on the exposed ridges of the Bigelows. I knew that there must have been hikers ahead of me on that ridge right now, and I pitied them. They would not be having a good time right now!

The storm lasted about 20 minutes before dying down again. The hail stopped, the rain stopped, the lightning and thunder gradually faded away. The angry-looking clouds were still out there, although temperatures did warm up again and the sun was working its way back through.

After another hour or two, the skies were almost completely clear. You'd never have known such a wicked storm had blown through. I was tempted to re-pack all of my gear and keep hiking. It was still relatively early in the afternoon! But at the same time, I wasn't sure I could get to the next shelter before dark anymore.

I decided to take a short walk around the Pond Loop Trail instead. The Horns Pond Shelter was located near (hold onto your hat!) Horns Pond, a scenic pond that couldn't actually be seen from the shelter so I hadn't really enjoyed it much. Now that the weather had improved dramatically, I could take a short loop trail by the pond and just explore the area instead of hiking the AT. It'll give me something to do, nice views and I'll just come back to the shelter for the night.

The Pond Loop Trail, oddly, looped around absolutely nothing. It branched off from the Appalachian Trail, at first following near the shoreline of Horns Pond, then diving into the woods away from the pond, meandering through the forest before reconnecting back on itself near the pond again. I couldn't figure out the purpose of the loop. It takes you, quite literally, nowhere. No views, no pretty meadow, no pretty lakes or ponds. Absolutely nothing but trees that looked like every other tree I'd seen in Maine. If I was going to develop loop trail, I'd have looped it around Horn Pond! Although from the topography that I could see, it would have likely been a difficult trail to build.

Most of the day I saw absolutely nobody. I passed three hikers heading southbound before the storm hit, and nobody going northbound. There's a caretaker for this area and after the storm passed through, I bumped into her doing her rounds, but the day was largely a lonely one.

At least until dusk when it seemed like everyone and their mother started arriving at the shelter. Mostly section hikers, and they told of wild stories of being caught high in the Bigelow Mountains during the storm. "Yeah, I was in this shelter when that hit," I bragged. "My goodness, it was deafening in here!" =)

I was a bit concerned about three young men and a dog who arrived very late in the day, still planning to head up to the South Horn. They had gotten lost, which is how they ended up at the shelter (which was a short ways off the trail). They had no backpacking gear--they were only out for a day hike. And it was late in the day--it took them all day to get up here--and they weren't turning back yet? All of us in the shelter told them to turn around and go back. It was too late in the day to be summiting mountains and getting back to their car. And they didn't even have flashlights! (They did have the flashlight app on their phone, however, which they liked to point out.)

OMG... they're going to die out here. I was sure of it.

They were insistent that they planned to continue to the top of South Horn, however, and we told them how to get back to the trail then turn right and follow the white blazes. The white blazes, they did not realize, marked the Appalachian Trail. "Just follow the white blazes," we told them. "Both on the way up, and on the way down." How did they make it this far without knowing about the white blazes?!

About 15 minutes later, the three young men returned again, apparently disoriented and lost. Again.

This time, I walked them back to the Appalachian Trail and pointed down it. "This is the direction you're trying to go," I said. "Follow the white blazes." I pointed to one of the white blazes on a nearby tree.

"When you're ready to turn around and go back to your car turn around and follow them in this other direction," I said, pointing in the opposite direction where the trail meandered out of view into the distance.

Snake! Snake! RUN!!!!

They all nodded, thanked me for the help, and started walking north on the trail. In seconds, they veered off onto a blue-blazed trail that led to the water source.

"The WHITE blazes!" I called out to them. "You're going the wrong away again! Follow the WHITE blazes!"

Jesus Christ! These people were going to die out here!

Well, maybe not die. The weather didn't look bad anymore. But very possibly a cold and miserable night shivering and just wishing they were dead. I figured there would be a pretty good chance they might actually try calling 911 late in the night after they got hopelessly lost. Assuming that they didn't wear out the batteries on their smartphones using the flashlight app, of course.

Later, back at the shelter, the caretaker dropped in again to say hi and make sure everything was okay. I warned her about the three young men with the dog--I was a little concerned about their obvious lack of common sense and that they were still headed up to South Horn despite the lateness of the day and that they might very well need rescuing later. She joked about turning off the radio she uses so if they did call 911, she won't be bothered with it in the middle of night. =) She shared some other stories of hikers she's met who were clearly in way over their heads. Not surprisingly, it wasn't the first time this sort of thing has happened.

Then it finally got dark and we all went to sleep. =)

Of those three young men with the dog.... I never saw or heard about them ever again. Which I hope means that they did manage to make it out alive without needing any rescuing.

Although I had passed where Inchworm had last been seen, the trailheads still had these signs asking for help.

Another hiker... bites the dust?

TWO THOUSAND MILES!!! WOO-WHOO!!!!!!

I was a little amused at the sign warning not to camp here because giardia is present. What's it going to do? Jump out of the water and attack campers?! =) It kind of feels to me like an excuse to discourage people from camping near the lake. If the only problem was contaminated water, they'd have posted signs warning hikers not to drink the water rather than not to camp! (I had no plans to camp here, though, and definitely no intention of drinking that water!)

They call it Cranberry Lake, but in reality, it's a festering cesspool of super-giardia able to jump out and attack campers and is probably better named Giardia Lake.... assuming that warning sign is correct. =)

Near the end of the day's hike, the trail became a lot more rugged and difficult!

That's Horn Pond down below, and South Horn peak immediately behind it.

The clouds started getting darker, but there was still a lot of sun and blue skies too!

Hail! Hail! Hail!

The Horn Pond Shelter--my refuge during the hail storm!

Horn Pond, after the storm had passed.

The sun was so bright and warm next to the lake, I put a wet handkerchief over my head to keep from baking. =)

Day 146: Tragedy on the Trail

July 31: Almost exactly two years earlier, in July 2013, a thru-hiker stopped for the night at the Popular Ridge Lean-to. She woke up, put on her pack and headed out. Then was never seen again.

The six of us at the shelter today probably did a lot of the same things she did. Joke with the other hikers, eat breakfast, brush our teeth, lace up our boots and slung on our packs. But we had all heard about the missing hiker: Inchworm.

The Popular Ridge Shelter was the last place that Inchworm was seen before she went missing.

Her husband was expecting to meet her at a road crossing the next day, and after she didn't show, he reported her missing on July 24th. Extensive searches were made for her, but no sign or trace had ever been found.

One of the other hikers had told me that he had heard rumors that maybe she "skipped town" and flew off to some South American country where she wouldn't be found, and he seemed to think that maybe there was some truth to it. With the technology we have today, he was sure, she should have been found already.

I thought the conspiracy theory was absurd. From everything I had heard, she had no reason to go "off the grid." The cops weren't after her for a crime. The IRS wasn't chasing her for tax evasion. She had a good relationship with her husband. (How could she not when he was supportive of her thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail!?) Why would she just suddenly ditch everyone and everything she loved so unexpectedly? And seriously, how could anyone spend months thru-hiking a trail just to voluntarily quit it less than 200 miles from the end?

And unlike the young man who seemed to think that nobody could get lost in this day and age and not have their body found, I wasn't so confident that technology would find her. It took time for someone to realize she was missing before it could be reported, and the terrain was rugged and thick with trees. Helicopters flying around might be able to see areas above treeline, but if she were in the trees, that wouldn't help. Thermal cameras that might be able to see warm bodies at night might not work if she'd already died and her body was cold as the ground where she died. Dogs trying to trace her scent might not work if it had rained soon after she disappeared. Many areas don't have cell phone coverage--assuming she carried a cell phone. (I don't know.)

And, somewhat surprisingly, people go missing all of the time. I remembered reading about that billionaire who went missing after going for a flight. They searched extensively for where his plane presumably crashed but never found it. They did, however, find several plane crashes that they weren't looking for and had no idea were there! Then what about that entire airplane from Maylasia with more than a hundred people on board that mysteriously disappeared? Yeah, I didn't have much faith in technology finding her. It could, but it's certainly no guarantee of anything.

I figured the most likely scenario was that she got turned around, lost and died well off the trail. Perhaps someday a hunter or someone will find her remains, but so far, that hasn't happened. Adding to that belief was a guy I met in Virginia (Shoelace) who said he was actually hiking the trail in Maine when she went missing and was questioned by authorities at a trailhead. Not that they suspected him of being involved, but asking if he had seen her, where he last saw her and anything that might help find her.

He hadn't remembered seeing her, but he did meet her husband while he was waiting for her at the trailhead. She was already overdue when Shoelace met him, but neither were particularly concerned at the time since it's not at all unusual to be running a little late in such difficult terrain. He told Shoelace to tell her he was at the trailhead and waiting whenever she arrived. He never passed on the message because he never saw her and didn't suspect anything had gone badly, badly wrong until the authorities had started asking questions about her.

Well, I can definitely say it's not human! A moose, perhaps?

He also said that the day he went through, he was hiking with his daughter and the fog over Saddleback Mountain was so thick, one of them would stop at a cairn or blaze while the other went ahead to search for the next one and when it was found, call out to bring the other person in the correct direction. They, quite literally, couldn't see the trail and used this method to not get lost themselves. One would be the "anchor" to the trail--the last spot they knew where the trail was located--and other other would go out just far enough to find the next anchor but not out of shouting distance.

It sounded like a pretty bad day to be hiking, and I'm not sure if that was ever reported in the newspapers, but Shoelace was absolutely convinced that she just lost the trail and she was still out in the woods somewhere.

Which sounded a heck of a lot more plausible to me than her running off to South America.

So I left the Poplar Ridge Lean-to with thoughts of Inchworm on my mind. I was now following in her last known steps--the thought of which put a chill in me. Her body was out there somewhere. I didn't expect to find it--I was planning to stay on the Appalachian Trail and if her body was on it, she'd have been found a long time ago. But it was probably out there nearby, off-trail somewhere.

The weather for me was considerably better than she had to contend with. It was sunny, clear and beautiful out. Not a whole lot of views, however, since the trail largely stayed deep in the trees the whole time. My guidebook warned that two of the rivers on the trail would have to be forded, but they were low enough that I was able to rock-hop across them and my feet stayed dry.

The shelters were awkwardly-spaced for me. The next one was 8.0 miles ahead, then the one after that was 26.6 miles ahead. I was never going to reach that second one today, and if the weather had been very bad today, I might be tempted to stop after 8 miles. But with the beautiful weather today, I certainly didn't want to stop after a mere 8 miles, so I'd be camping between shelters. Exactly where, I didn't know, but somewhere between the two shelters. I could decide that later in the day when I saw how much progress I was making, but I intended to squeeze as much in on this beautiful day as I could. The weather forecast predicted rain all day tomorrow, and the long term forecast showed a pattern of rain, sun, rain, sun, rain, sun for the next week.

I didn't pass many people on the trail today either. A mere 3 soundbounders, absolutely no northbounders, and 4 day hikers. It was a nice day for a hike!

Some of the terrain near Sugarloaf Mountain and Crocker Mountain were ridiculously steep and later in the afternoon, when it looked like I could get past both areas, that became my goal.

My guidebook didn't show any campsites immediately behind Crocker Mountain, but it did show a small spring and under my theory that there's always a hidden, unofficial campsite near water sources, I made that my goal. I'd get water, and then look for wherever I could camp after that. Hopefully somewhere near the water, but whatever the next feasible place I could camp after that water would be my destination for the day. I needed a place large enough to fit my tarp, though, since rain was possible overnight.

Needless to say, I didn't find any bodies in the woods. However, less than three months later, Inchworm's body was found a mile or two off the trail at a nearby Navy training center. Not a happy ending, but I hope her family can at least put their minds to rest about her disappearance. In a lot of ways, I think a missing person is probably a fate worse than death for friends and family and not knowing for certain what happened. RIP Inchworm!

This is the "golden spike" of the Appalachian Trail, although nobody calls it the golden spike memorial. Not like they do on the Arizona Trail or the PCT (which both have golden spike memorials).

One of the steeper sections of the trail today.

Day 145: Just call me Troublemaker

July 30: As much as I loved my time in Rangeley, it was time to move on. Katahdin wasn't going to walk to me! So I woke up early, took one last shower, ate a quick breakfast then caught the 7:00 AM shuttle back to the trailhead with Bearfish and Coyote.

The trail was rough. Not as rough as past days perhaps, but rough. I took a couple of short detours off the trail for some sightseeing. The first detour was Piazza Rock, which I affectionately called Pizza Rock. It was just a couple of minute detour off the trail and was an impressive rock sticking far out overhanging the ground below it.

Then I detoured to the Piazza Rock Lean-to. I almost always detour to shelters anyhow, but this time I made a special visit to the privy because my guidebook "warned" that it was a two-seater privy with a cribbage board between the two seats and I wanted to see for myself. And get photos, of course. =) That is a game, I suppose, where you must find a really good friend if you want to play!

The longest detour was my visit to the "caves" immediately after the shelter. It wasn't far, but crawling through the narrow openings was a lot like the trail through Mahoosic Notch--a full-bodied work out! After checking it out and going through, I turned around and repeated the route in reverse to get back to the trail.

I spent the better part of an hour on my off-trail wonderings before staying true to the trail which soon lead up to the top of Saddleback Mountain with its legendary views. I remember going over this region during my 2003 thru-hike and loved the incredible views, but it was considerably less impressive this time around. Fog completely enveloped one side of the ridge while it was very hazy and unclear on the other side.

I made it to the Poplar Ridge Lean-to after 10.7 miles of rough hiking before quitting at an early 2:30 in the afternoon. Rain was expected in the afternoon and the next shelter was over 8 miles away. I'm such a wuss. =)

In all, six hikers camped at the shelter, four of which were southbound thru-hikers and the other two were us northbound thru-hikers. The sheer number of southbounders was astounding to me. At this point along the trail, they regularly seemed to outnumber the northbounders! It was a definitely change since my 2003 thru-hike when I could count all of the southbound hikers I'd see in a day on one hand. They certainly never outnumbered the northbounders! So we swapped war stories--them telling us of the horrible mud and difficulties to the north and me telling them to, "Quit! Quit while you still can! SAVE YOURSELVES!!!!" =) One guy seemed particularly annoyed at that and bluntly told me, "Would you stop saying that!"

Yeah, okay.... =)

Speaking of "encouraging" the southbounders to quit the trail, I had written as such in one of the shelter registers. The horrors--the mud, the steepness, the wind and cold.... Pleading to the southbounders to SAVE YOURSELVES! (Wrote it in all caps as well.) It was too late for us--we were in it too deep and couldn't quit, but they still could.

It was meant very tongue-in-cheek--I was going for the "sky is falling" kind of feel and I was Chicken Little running around--but apparently after I left, someone who took my message a little too seriously (obviously, they didn't know me well!) wrote by my name that I was an "ass-hat." I had (unknowingly) hit a rather sensitive topic for southbounders who were tired of northbounders harassing them (which I hadn't even realized was a problem). Later, as other northbound hikers caught up with me, a few of them commented on the fuss I caused where people continued to write for several pages anti-southbounder or anti-northbounder rants. As one hiker later told me, "You lobbed a grenade in that shelter then quietly walked away before it exploded."

Piazza Rock was this large, overhanging rock.

I was stunned, really. When someone writes in ALL CAPS to "SAVE YOURSELVES!!!!!" can they not see sarcasm when it's right under their nose? Truth be told, I'm thankful for the southbounders. It relieves the crowds of northbounders that have hounded me since Springer Mountain. Flip-floppers too. Anything to spread out the crowds. There are a lot of people thru-hiking the trails nowdays, and the more they spread out, the better. I'd have wished for even more of the northbounders to have shook things up by going southbound or flip-flopping around the trail. And frankly, going southbound is probably more difficult than a northbound trek. I was in excellent shape when I arrived at the hardest part of the trail. The southbounders--they're still getting their trail legs. They're suffering from blisters and other ailments that come early in a hike that the northbounds had 2,000 miles to walk off.

No offense to northbounders, but darn it--there's just too many of them on the trail! Starting so early in the year help me get in front of the bulk of them, but I wouldn't have minded if the number of hikers I saw every day were cut in half. In all honestly, I wanted more people to have chosen a southbound or flip-flop hike! I certainly hadn't intended to offend them by joking to "save themselves."

So in honor of the ruffled feathers, I wrote another register entry apologizing for my derogatory talk about how horrible the trail ahead for them was. "I lied," I fessed up. "The trail is wonderful and I wanted it all to myself." I went on about how escalators had been installed on the steepest sections, creeks flowed with vodka, you'd get free massages at every shelter along with pizza delivery. Assuming, of course, you didn't want Gordon Ramsey himself to cook you a freshly prepared meal. The trail was SOOO easy!

Or something that effect. I didn't take a photo of the entry so I'm recreating it--but that was the gist of it. Over-the-top ridiculous. And I wrote that I was so sorry to any southbounder who took my writings about the mud and horror of the trails ahead so seriously. Obviously, it was all just made up, and good for them for seeing right through those malicious comments I wrote about the trail! I couldn't fool them! =)

I can be such a troublemaker. =)

The "Your Move" privy, a pun on words that isn't obvious until you open the door....

...where you'll find a two-seater privy with a cribbage board between the two so you can play a game while you're doing a number two!

The "caves" just off the trail.

Views on one side of Saddleback Mountain were hazy....

Views on the other side were just plain foggy! (This was a brief time when the fog "sort of" lifted for a few minutes--it had been a lot worse!)

Day 143-144: Rangeley Wanderings

July 28-29: I'm combining these two days since I took two consecutive zero days here and don't really have much to write about. =) I walked into downtown Rangeley both days. Mostly to enjoy the town and see the sights. The two things I had to do was head to the grocery store to resupply--where I'd purpose food that should pretty much get me all the way to the end of the trail! I was going to stop in one more trail town ahead, but Monson had no real grocery stores so I purchased most of what I'd want here and have it shipped to me in Monson. I bought a lot food! Basically two weeks worth!

The town of Rangeley is located on the shores of Rangeley Lake, perhaps the only body of water in the entire state that they actually call a "lake" and not a "pond"!

In honor of Blueberry, I also got a box of donuts to share with the other hikers at the hostel. =)

Both days, I stopped to get ice cream at Pine Tree Frosty and I hung out behind the store enjoying the view over the lake behind it.

Rangeley is a wonderful little tourist town! I have a fond memory of eating the best slice of apple pie here back during my 2003 thru-hike. In fact, I consider it the best food that has ever entered my mouth. I'm sure it was just your typical run-of-the-mill apple pie, but after walking here from Georgia, everything tastes better. I joked with the other hikers that the real reason I was hiking the trail a second time was so I could have this slice of apple pie again. I could never have it unless I had walked 2,000 miles to get there!

I couldn't remember the name of the restaurant, but I had a vague memory of what the exterior looked like and hoped I'd stumble into it during my walks, but if it's still around, I never found it. It has been 12 years, though--maybe they went out of business?

But the ice cream was good. *nodding*

Little known fact: Rangeley is located on the 45th parallel, halfway between the equator and the north pole. Finally! I was getting pretty tired of being so close to the equator!

When I returned after my first afternoon out, I had learned that my stuff had been moved to a new bed! A large party had reserved the entire room where I had been set up, and since I was gone, they moved me and all of my gear to another location. Stacey--the owner of the establishment--seemed concerned that I'd be upset that I was moved unexpectedly. I didn't mind in the least, and as it turned out, the new location was a lot cooler (I had been on an upper level where heat seemed to collect and it got rather warm!), had a larger bed to spread out my gear and lots of shelves nearby to throw even more gear. It was an upgrade as far as I was concerned!

Most of my day was spent writing blog posts. I also had an order from Amazon.com sent here, which included a guidebook for the GR 20 through Corsica. My AT hike was nearing an end and it seemed like as good as time as any to start getting "real" about planning the European adventures that would follow. Even booked my plane tickets to and from Corsica.

The couple running the hostel--Shane and Stacey--were absolutely wonderful. Stacey was the main face of the operation. Shane seemed to do more of the shuttling--but I Stacey was the one I saw running around giving the "grand tour" of the hostel to arriving hikers, cooking breakfast and I interacted with more.

The local outfitters had this display about proper life-jacket usage. *nodding*

When Bearfish arrived to check in, I walked up and said that I'd "vouch" for him--imitating his "vouching" for me when I arrived at a hostel a couple of weeks earlier. "Bearish is a good man," I told
Stacey. "He won't give you any trouble." Which of course made her look at me funny, as if that was some sort of signal that yes, he would be causing trouble. =)

I overheard Shane telling a story to some of the other hikers during my first zero day here, but another guy up the trail who'd been running a hostel for a couple of decades now and that perhaps he'd been doing it too long because when he went to visit, he heard the guy yelling at the other hikes to "get in the f***ing car!" Clearly upset and impatient with the thru-hikers so seemed to ignore him. "When I get to that point, I'm getting out of the business," he told everyone.

The next morning, he was about to shuttle some hikers back to the trail and went around to all of the rooms to say that the shuttle would be leaving in five minutes. One hiker, who just woke up frantically tried to throw all his stuff together in time to catch the shuttle and I said to Shane, "Come on... say it. You know you want to...."

He looked at me puzzled, not sure what I was taking about.

"You know," I said, lingering a bit to see if he'd figure it out. He still looked perplexed.

"Get in the f***ing car!" I said.

He laughed. "Nooo..... I'm not saying that. I'm not that jaded! Not yet, at least!"

"But you know it would be fun," I insisted. "Come on.... all the other hostel owners are doing it!" =)

Anyhow, I had an absolutely wonderful two days in Rangeley. I think I could enjoy living in a town like that..... but that's about all I have to write about the town.

For lunch one day, I ate at the Red Onion. Yum!

I was a little surprised to see this thermometer outside of the restaurant. Was it really a hundred degrees?! It was definitely warm, but I'd have never imagined it was that hot! (When I checked the temperature of Rangeley online, it was showing 85 degrees which, I suspect, was probably more accurate than this thing.)

In any case, it's certainly warm enough for a frosty ice cream!

Oh, yeah... that's what I'm talking about!

You know.... I'm finding myself not so worried about this....