Katahdin

6/30/12         

        After we packed up, we walked across the campground, stuck our feet in the water and called it the low point of Massachusetts. Primate drove us three miles into New Hampshire where we crossed the beach to the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, and then called that a low point. We entered Maine, stopped at the Fort McClary State Historical Site and considered the water's edge another low point.

        Heavy traffic on the toll road to and across Maine thinned as we proceeded north. We came to newly paved roadway.

        "Don't you just love the smell of asphalt in the morning?" I looked at Dr. Bobo.

        We pulled to a stop at a toll booth to pay our fare.

        "Good morning," I told the elderly lady taking our money.

        She glanced at her watch. "Oh, darn, it's still morning."

        I said loudly as Primate accelerated us away, "Hang in there."

        We passed the Androscoggin River.

        "Did you see the moose sign?" Dr. Bobo asked.

        A clear sky and lush green forests invited us northward, but, as we approached Augusta, clouds formed in the distance. Would we get rain today? Or tomorrow? The road turned and led us away from the clouds.

        Then we crossed the Kennebec and the Sebasticook Rivers, and still Primate continued to drive.

        Dr. Bobo pointed off to the left. An eagle's nest perched atop a power pole, and in the nest sat a white-headed bald eagle.

        Other clouds hung over Bangor when we stopped for food supplies. We continued northward. Dark grey clouds crossed our route as we neared our destination. We checked out one campground as more rain fell, but decided to camp closer to our next goal, if we could find a site. After several phone calls Dr. Bobo made a reservation for the last campsite available at the trail head of our next target in Baxter State Park.

        Christopher referred to information from a website he accessed with his cell phone. "This says sixty percent chance of isolated severe thunder storms."

        "Sounds ominous," I said.

        At Ruthie's in Millinocket, we had a refreshment, and bought seafood dinners to go. We agreed we didn't want to cook dinner in the event of rain. After we set up camp, Christopher and Dr. Bobo purchased wood and built a campfire, our first on the trip.

        "Now we're camping," I heard Dr. Bobo say as I returned from a trip to the car 150 feet away.

        Christopher responded, "Unlike a campground with 484 sites, like last night."

        Low points - twenty-two; high points - fifteen. We added 320 miles to the odometer today.

7/1/12         

        Clouds turned grey. Strong winds gusted and changed direction. Trees swayed in the breeze.

        We knew rain was coming, but when and how? At first the rain was light, but grew heavier and steady. We decided to go to bed.

        Dr. Bobo and I shared my tent and settled in to sleep. The sound of rain on the tent was steady.

       "I felt a drop of water," Dr. Bobo said, turned on his light. I decided to do the same. We discovered water coating the inside of the rain fly and dripping through the mosquito netting.

        "Not a big deal," Dr. Bobo concluded.

        I wasn't so sure, however, and laid awake listening to the rain until early morning when it stopped.

        We packed our gear, some of it wet, and moved the car to the "day use" parking, per park rules, and started up the last section of the Appalachian Trail, 5.2 miles and 4,200 feet higher, to Katahdin at 7AM.

        After a 15 minute walk Dr. Bobo said, "This is why I don't hike the Appalachian Trail."

        Rocks and boulders on the trail required constant negotiation. Trees blocked our view of the sky. As we gained elevation the trail steepened. Larger boulders required use of hands. At tree line, the boulders grew even larger, now we climbed up a ridge. At several points metal rods inserted as aids provided sufficient holds to avoid serious risks. We climbed steadily. By 10:45AM we sat on the top of Maine at 5,267 feet, ate lunch, and took photos, while a cold wind blew and clouds obscuring our views came and went.

Primate Finishes His Climb of Katahdin, ME High Point.

        "We're on our way home," Dr. Bobo commented. "Everything now is towards home, with a little zig-zagging."

        The wind eased and the temperature rose as we descended to the car. Clouds increased over the mountain. My knees and ankles complained of pain. I descended slowly, but by 2:07PM I arrived at the parking lot. A rest to recuperate and Primate drove us south, retracing our route to Bangor for a seafood dinner and stopped about 30 miles west for the night with hope for the absence of rain tonight and an early start tomorrow.

        Low point - twenty-two; high points - sixteen. The odometer read 127 miles.