I would not recommend [Northern Outdoors] to another hiker. They seem to be ill-equipped to serve the needs of the hiker, and more to the rafting-weekend-partier types. The campground was a fucking zoo all night, music pumped from trucks, shrieking, drunk women, loud obnoxious men. Screaming and partying til at least 1 AM. I complained to the woman at the desk [this morning], but she didn't seem that interested or surprised. Good thing I'm not carrying a gun (as so many people have asked me, ostensibly for protection, from what I'm unclear), because I probably would have been tempted to at least fire a few rounds in the partygoers' general direction. The tent-cabin in okay, kind of like a yurt with 2 small beds [and ill-fitting sheets], but the temperature was hot, then cold, then hot - too warm for my bag but cold with nothing. I gess the chaos finally died down at some point, and I got some sleep [I also was cartoonishly squeezing the pillow against my ears]. So, up at 6:30ish, grabbed some TP from the shower room, and came up for breakfast. Ordered pancakes. The young, bro-ey waiter brough out French. "I ordered pancakes." "No, you ordered French toast." "I've never ordered French toast in my life" "Sorry, man." Ugh. My opinion of humanity is not great right now. Looking forward to being back on the trail. Northern Outdoors is running a shuttle to Sterling Inn (will try to resupply my denatured alcohol for my stove) and then to the PO and trailhead, to ferry the river. Almost 8 AM. Full day still ahead! [The French toast was good. Made friends with the bro-ey waiter later on, and we talked about thruhikers who'd passed through]
Lesson learned: The things you worry about are almost guaranteed to not be the things you should have worried about. Those things will likely be fine. You will not see it coming, what will go wrong, so stop the worrying. It is futile.
June 25, con't. East terrain, 14+ miles. Pretty tough day, all in all. I guess every day is going to be tough out here. Got a shuttle to Sterling Inn, courtesy of Northern Outdoors, to get a few ounces of denatured alcohol. Cost a buck. Then he tool me to the PO, where I got my first drop. Kind of exciting! Put some pretty good stuff in there. I made a list of how many dinners, etc. I still had in my food bag, and supplemented from the drop so I have enough to get to Stratton. Still have too much, I suppose. Left a few things in the hiker box at the PO, items worth maybe $6 total, doesn't make sense to ship it. Someone will be psyched to find a full jar of peanut butter in there .Then a short walk to the tailhead, and to the ferry. That was fun. The Northern Outdoors guy said there was a fee, but there isn't (see rule: never trust anyone's information). Apparently, ther guy who runs the ferry ( a rowboat) across the Kennebunk is reimbursed by the Appalachian Trail Conservancy as part of a government contract, I think, to keep it free. In 1985 a hiker drowned crossing the river, trying to save money. So they made it free so no-one would have a reason not to take it. [there is a white AT blaze painted on the floor of the dinghy, so you're never off the trail. It is the only non-walking, sanctioned section of the Trail). Hillbilly Bob (I think this was the boat guy's name, I can't be sure) gave me a quick run-down of the weather forecast, distance to the next shelter, and for good measure, distance to Springer Mountain [the southern terminus of the AT in Georgia]. Thus began the day of hiking, finally, at about 10, on the southern bank of the Kennebunk. East terrain, rolling hills, hiked along a stream for a while. Pleasant weather, but scattered thunderstorms were forecasted. Smash and company (I like them now) were at the first shelter I passed (Pierce Pond). Smask was wearing only underwear, his clothes draped in the sun on a tree near the pond. "You missed the show!" Friar exclaimed, and explained that Smash had falled full-body into the pond while trying to douse his bandana in the cold water. We chatted and ate lunch, and were eventually back on the trail. Hot and humid, bugs were out but not bad. Had a new nasty black-fly attacked; those bastards draw blood! [and leave bruises! WTF? Thankfully most of them were killed off in early June by a late frost]. It was 10 miles from Pierce to our destination, Carry Pond Shelter. 5 hours or so of relatively uneventful, pretty fast hiking. Thought a lot about if I have what it takes to keep this up for another 2000 miles. One step at a time. I snacked on chocolate almonds and Haribo, and sweated bullets, drinking water constantly. Getting low on Aqua Mira, will have to find some in Stratton, or another treatment method. On the last leg, around Carry Pond, the thunderstorm showed up. It was actually pretty cool, but a bit alarming, when the Trail took me down to the pond's edge. Great, dark, ferocious-looking blue-grey clouds were rolling in over the pond, and the wind was whipping the water into whitecaps. Finally the rain came, hard. I paused to don my raincoat and pack cover; I knew I was close to the shelter but not sure how far. Walked in the rain for probably 50 paces, and saw the sign, pointing up a blue-blazed trail, 100 yards. I ran up the trail, splashing through puddles, to the exclamations of Smash and Co. when I came up. "Almost!" I said. We caught up on the day's hike, and I talked to the other folks at the shelter; a couple, and a father-son duo, all going from Grafton to Katahdin. I rehydrated lentils and quinoa, and joked with the guys, talking gear, motivation for thruhiking, weight loss. Then I realized, I'm being the cliquey thruhiker! I bugged me about them before, how they are this little inside-group and ignore the day- and section-hikers. I wasn't doing it intentionally, but a thruhike [even attempted] is a bonding endeavor. I will attempt to not fall into that habit. Too dark to write; need a new noteboook soon! - Ups
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