Underwater

June 9th

I keep breaking camp earlier as I switch to the schedule of the trail and sun.  This morning had some elevation and I stopped a few hours in to eat a second meal of peanut butter and dry some clothes on a bald spot of the mountain. The sun was shining and reflecting off the lake that lie at the mountain's base.  I could hear a moose bugling from the far side of the lake.

I still see moose scat, tracks, and hear the bugles but I haven't see any.  The moose is very elusive.

I had planned 14 miles for today but I had a feeling early on that I would end up doing more.  Most of the trail was in better shape than what I hiked yesterday.  There were a few instances of water flowing down the trail and an occasional  mud puddle. Due to the relentless rain of the past week, the water levels are high everywhere.  At one point in the trail where it is supposed to run along Lake Nahmakanta it is completely submerged.  As I walked along the the coast of the lake I could see a white blaze painted on a large boulder.  The high tide and water levels sent each wave crashing over the boulder, wetting the blaze.  I decided to bushwhack.  As I rock hopped across a stream on the marshy shoreline, my shoe slipped on the stone and instantly fell into the cold water.  The granite took a quarter sized chunk of skin from my left elbow and once again had wet shoes.  Now bleeding and furious sped down the trail to the nearest campsite.

I sat at a picnic table as I pulled my shoes apart and sat them in the sunlight to dry.  With time to kill I made a hot meal of mashed potatoes to improve my mood, instead of eating the normal cold lunch grub. I downed the spuds and had checked the shoes.  Still wet...  Anxious to hike I started thinking.  My camp shoes are minimalist and much to the thin for the rocky, root laden trail here in Maine.   I grabbed the insoles from my hiking shoes and stuffed them in my camp shoes for extra padding and slid them on to my feet, now sporting a dry pair of socks.  I trotted around the campsite to see how they felt.  Perfect!  With my new Frankenstein shoes I once again started rolling down the trail.

I made my planned campsite in good time.  The warm dry air had given my hiking shoes time to dry and the sun was still high in the cloudless blue sky.  I felt strong and motivated so I decided to move on.  The trail transferred from along the creeks and lakes across a dirt road where fifteen Tiger Swallowtail Butterflies had gathered in a group on the ground.  As I approached half of them floated up into the air and circled around me.

Past the the road the terrain turned to marshlands and bogs.  The Maine Appalachian Trail Club has worked diligently to provided log bridges over this fragile section of the trail.  These bridges protect the environment and keep the hikers feet dry and for that I am very thankful.

Before getting to the lean-to I passed a lady with a Cocker Spaniel (Riffle).  I though she had seen me as she turned sideways to cross a log bridge, so I didn't say anything.  I scared her half to death, riffle too!  We talked for a bit on the trail and even more at the lean-to.  She had some supreme pizza from her stay at Whitehouse Landing and she gave me piece.  I was a delicious addition to my dinner.

The water source for the shelter was large mountain spring pulsing out of the ground.  It was ice cold, crystal clear, and absolutely delicious.  I ignored all the posted to signs to treat the water that explained the effects of Giardia and showed several animals wading in the water with talks of their feces.  I was sure it was probably some of the most pure water I will come across the entire trail.  No beaver fever for me!