Mt Katahdin - Winter 2016

Katahdin.... Winter... sitting here now, those two words alone are enough to make me shiver.  It was June 2015 when this trip was first mentioned, though, and with 7 months and an entire summer between me and the mountain - all I had was a feeling of excitement about a new adventure.  Ted "Gunny" Coffin and Ranger Mike were discussing the trip quite a bit, and I wasn't even sure if I would be included in those plans given that it sounded more like a guys weekend.  When everyone first started discussing the trip, Ranger Mike and I were barely even friends... my how things change.

Fast forward to January, and now Ranger Mike and Ziggy go together like peas and carrots..or something like that.  So of course in the weeks leading up to the Katahdin trip, Mike was egging me on encouraging me to sign up for the four day trip.  To be quite honest, I was a bit terrified.  The last time I had climbed Katahdin (ok the only time), it was an almost 10 mile trek ascending via Helon Taylor, crossing Knife's Edge, and descending via Saddle and Chimney Pond.  By the end of the day, I was barely hobbling along and sincerely humbled by the mountain.  I would be sore for most of the next week after the climb.

Now Mike was asking me to sign up for a trip that would span four days and include 26 miles of skiing, 6.6 miles of snowshoeing, and a 2.8 mile round trip trek up the mountain and back via the Dudley Trail carrying everything we needed in packs and/or pulling a sled.  I have honestly never been more intimidated and anxious about a trip in my life.  That anxiety came not only from wondering if I could make it through the trip, but also out of a fear of holding up the rest of the group.  It was a very fit group of guys with events like Extremus and Infinitus under their belts.  How was I to keep up?  Of course in the end Ranger Mike convinced me that I would be fine on this trip, that I could and would keep up with the group, and that I would be kicking myself with regrets if I did not go.  And in all cases, he was right.  It was an amazing adventure, and now that I have had a taste of the mountain in winter, I am hooked.  Here is a little bit of our first trip for those who have never been.  Maybe it will encourage you to overcome your fears and head out into the woods, too - and maybe we'll see each other on the trails!

Day 1 - Thursday, January 21

The day started with an early morning wake-up to meet Gunny at Baxter State Park Headquarters.  He was to follow us to Abol Bridge where we would be parking our vehicles during the trip.  In winter the park is accessible only via snowmobile (Tote Road only) or by skiing/snowshoeing in from Abol Bridge.  The road to the gate is not maintained in the winter, and only snowmobiles are allowed on that road.  Read that as Don't drive to the gate expecting to access the park or you will be fined!

This day would begin at Abol Bridge and end 13 miles away at Roaring Brook, taking us through the woods on the Abol Stream Trail and then traveling the Tote Road and Roaring Brook Road.  We had spots reserved in the bunkhouse at Roaring Brook once we got there, and I remember wondering who would be sharing the bunkhouse with us and hoping they would have a fire going when we got there.

Gunny would be making the trek on snowshoes, and Mike and I would be traveling with skis.  I think the last time I had been on skis was around age 12, but after a refresher that Monday night I was confident I could make the trip in just fine.  We each had packs with our gear, and Mike was towing a sled behind him as he skied.  I was surprised at how much easier travel was on skis.  I guess I just never had thought about it before, but as I let gravity carry me down every downhill we came to - it made me wonder why I had given it up so many years ago.

The only people we saw on our entire trip to Roaring Brook were Ranger Dave Loome and Ranger Greg Hamer as they passed us on snowmobiles.  It was a big change from my typical experiences in the park where you encounter people every few minutes unless you venture way into the back-country. The feeling of solitude was a welcome break from the busy work life I have in Massachusetts.  The trip to Roaring Brook took us at least 6 hours, but it passed by very quickly.  It's hard to maintain any sense of time when you are gliding down hills, breathing in the crisp winter air, and being blessed with a magnificent view of Katahdin. 

That sense of solitude ended when we arrived at the bunkhouse at Roaring Brook.  We had a bunk-mate who had decided to begin his trip at 2am from Abol Bridge.  Unfortunately, he didn't seem very adept at building a fire, and the temperature inside the bunkhouse was significantly colder than it was outside.  Mike quickly got to work building the fire while we unpacked and loaded up on calories - a 13 mile ski is a great excuse to gorge yourself on cookies, and I took full advantage of that!  That's actually how we spent much of the rest of the day with some cribbage games thrown in for good measure.

As we chatted with our bunk-mate, Isaac, we learned he was on a solo trip spanning several days.  He had never snowshoed hauling a sled, and so he had gotten a significantly earlier start than we had to allow himself ample time to reach Roaring Brook.  After several conversations about his planned trip, dreams of long distance hiking in Alaska, and sharing some dried squid from Marden's with Gunny (seriously... I can't make this stuff up) - Isaac spent most of his time reading or napping in his bunk.

We were scheduled to have two more bunk-mates for that evening, and they soon came rolling in (skiing in?) and entered the bunkhouse to warm up.  They were both Canadian, and their first language was very obviously French.  It was a language barrier that made conversation both challenging and humorous.  We were suspicious when one of the first questions they asked us was "Do you speak French?"....none of us did.  I wish I had because I'm sure there was some great color commentary when we broke out the cribbage board a short time later.

The Canadians - as they will be referred to because unfortunately none of us exchanged names - were in Baxter to do some ice climbing.  They chatted with Mike for a bit about the conditions they could expect when they reached Chimney Pond, and then they decided to hike the extra 3.3 miles up to the bunkhouse at Chimney Pond to take advantage of one more day of ice climbing.  From there on it was a quiet night interrupted only twice - once for Ranger Greg to stop in and humiliate me at cribbage...and then again when a mouse decided there must be something yummy in Gunny's ruck.


Day 2 - Friday, January 22nd
Our morning at Roaring Brook was pretty uneventful.  We had planned on getting an early start so that we might get ahead of Ranger Greg and help with shoveling off some bridges on the trail.  But - early wake-ups were never something I was very good at.  Greg rolled through about 20 minutes or more before we were ready to hit the trail.  We caught up with him at one of the bridges not long after we left Roaring Brook, though, and between Gunny and Mike - they made short work of the snow removal needed on the bridge.

From there, we snowshoed the rest of the way to Chimney stopping briefly at halfway viewpoint and crossing Basin Pond on our way.  The view from halfway viewpoint was Gunny's first close up view of the mountain in winter, and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning.  It didn't take us long to reach Chimney Pond from there, and we had the good fortune of being able to stay in the Ranger Camp with Ranger Greg.  We had been set to use the Crew Camp, but why heat more than one camp if you don't need to, right?

The camp had been unoccupied for a few days, so it was colder inside than it was outside...and this trip to Chimney Pond was considerably colder than our trip at Christmas.  Temperatures were in the teens while we were there and -3F on the morning we left.  Mike set to building a fire while we unpacked our bags and sorted through our gear.  Not long after, Ranger Rob Tice showed up - followed by Ranger Greg.  Similar to Mike, Rob is a Law Enforcement Ranger in the park and supervises staff and operations at Roaring Brook, Chimney Pond, and Russell Pond.  He was only stopping in to check the batteries at the Ranger camp, but stayed a little longer for lunch and to talk about skiing for a while.

Mike and Gunny got ambitious enough to want to try some ice climbing while there was still light out.  I decided to sit that one out, figuring I would get my fill of climbing the next day when we made our way to the summit.  I stayed behind for a few more games of cribbage with Greg - the well-respected "Cribbage Champion of Chimney Pond."  It turned out that was a wise decision since the snow conditions made for difficult travel for Mike and Gunny.  They returned a short time later and opted to fill the rest of their day with cribbage, as well.

Day 3 - Saturday, January 23rd
The day was finally here - Summit Day.... after conversations with Greg the night before, Mike and Gunny wanted to do a longer route for the day's climb.  The plan originally had been to ascend/descend via the Saddle Trail.  The new plan was to ascend via the Dudley Trail, cross Knife's Edge, and descend via the Saddle Trail.  That would end up making for a much longer day and include a challenging climb through the Chimney as we left Pamola Peak.  But the Canadians had done it near dark descending via Dudley Trail to break the trail out the night before.. so how hard could it be?

We set out around 8am to climb to Pamola Peak.  It was an icy climb, but with the right gear it didn't seem so bad - minus my crampons coming off a couple of times...guess it's time to buy my own gear, not use hand-me-downs.  Many times when I climb, my hip will bother me with the repetitive motion of climbing a trail like Chimney Pond trail, but on Dudley there was none of that.  It is my favorite trail I have climbed in my time in the park.  I had so much fun scrambling over the rocks and trying to figure out the easiest/safest way to climb some of them that the hike didn't really even feel like work.  I think that when your mind is challenged along with your body, you don't notice the physical strain as much.  It seemed like it took us no time to reach Pamola Peak, even though in all likelihood it took us a couple of hours.

I've climbed to Pamola Peak, done Knife's Edge, and stood on Baxter Peak.  There are still others I need to climb, but so far Pamola is my favorite.  The view from Pamola looking across Knife's Edge to Baxter is amazing.  If you've never been there, add this hike to your bucket list.  Looking at the mountain from this perspective in the summer is breathtaking.  Looking at the mountain from this perspective in winter is also intimidating.

We paused for a few pictures at the Pamola sign.  It was so covered in ice that you could barely tell there was a sign there.  As fortunate as we were to have a beautiful day to climb, it made me wonder what a severe weather day would be like on the mountain.  We began our descent down behind Pamola Peak for a safer trek into the Chimney.  While Mike is right at home ice climbing, down-climbing into the Chimney was not something Gunny and I were comfortable with.  As we stood in the Chimney looking up at the climb we would need to make to reach Knife's Edge and continue our trip - Gunny got very quiet, and I got very nervous.

We had rope with us, and we had mountaineering axes.  But we had no technical ice tools, and Mike was the only one with real experience in these climbing conditions.  In the end, facing the very real possibility of falling during our ascent, we all decided it was the better course of action to descend via the same trail we had climbed.  We made our way back to Pamola Peak and began our hike down the Dudley Trail.

For Gunny, I'm sure the hike down seemed much faster than the hike up.  For me - well I seemed to find every patch of snow that was unstable enough to drop me through the crust.  I came away from the mountain looking like I'd been kicked in the shins for an hour and feeling thankful no children were at Chimney Pond waiting to expand their vocabulary.  Both Mike and Gunny seemed to get a kick out of the color commentary, though, so I guess it wasn't a total waste.

When we reached the camp, we were all happy to have a seat and relax.  I got to baking, and soon we made a meal out of a pan of gingerbread - minus a couple of pieces for the Canadians on their way by the camp.  You should have seen their faces as they came off the ice to find a piece of gingerbread handed to them through the window...still warm from the oven.  We may not know their names, but I still think we gained a few friends.  We spent the rest of that night much like we had the night before - with good food, great conversation, and more than a couple games of cribbage.  I got a few wins in against Ranger Greg, but by the end of the night - he was still the reigning Cribbage Champion of Chimney Pond.

Day 4 - Sunday, January 24th
We woke up earlier than we needed to on Sunday.  I guess something in me was restless knowing that it was time to go home.  As Mike and I laid there watching the sunrise light up the mountain, I wondered if there would ever be a time that I tired of the sight.  I really don't think there will be.  We quickly packed our bags and fueled for the trip back to our vehicles....over 16 miles away.

All of the days leading up to this trip, this was the leg of our journey I was most intimidated by.  It wasn't the mountain, it was the long haul back out from Chimney Pond after 3 days of running my body ragged.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was more capable than I had thought.  The trip out was relatively uneventful.  We met several groups on their way to Roaring Brook, ran into Ranger Rob Tice once more, and just had fun enjoying the relatively warm winter day.  We had only left Chimney around 8am, but by 230pm - we were back at our vehicles.  Other than an insane craving for a burger and a beer, I really didn't feel that bad off.  So that's just what we did...stopped at The Sawmill for lunch before we said our good-byes and headed for home.

If you ever have the opportunity to visit Baxter State Park in the winter, I strongly encourage you to do so.  There is so much more to see than the Tote Road will show you.  But if you venture out on snowshoe or ski - be sure to educate yourself before your trip.  As beautiful as the wilderness can be in winter, it also offers a whole new set of obstacles that need to be considered for a safe and successful trip.

Gunny, Ranger Mike, and me

Mike on the ski in

View into the basin from the chimney.

Ranger Mike and me on Pamola Peak

Gunny on Pamola Peak

Ranger Mike testing out the conditions in the chimney.

Pamola Peak sign covered in ice.

Knife's Edge and Baxter Peak in the background.

Ranger Mike on the Dudley Trail.

View from the chimney.

Gunny and me on the Dudley Trail.

Christmas at Chimney Pond

There are many perks to being the fiance of a Baxter State Park Enforcement Ranger, and it turns out that this past Christmas holiday - one of them was taking a turn covering the Back-country Ranger position at Chimney Pond.  Mike had told me around Thanksgiving that it looked like he would be assigned to cover the time just before and just after the Christmas holiday, and with a 3.3 mile hike up and back - we figured why not just stay the extra day there over the holiday?

It was our first Christmas together, and it was almost like something out of a romance novel to be able to spend it in the middle of a 250,000 acre state park without another soul around for miles.  We arrived at Chimney Pond on December 22nd, and we would stay at the Ranger Station there through until December 27th.  There was far less snow on the trail than is typical for this time of year, and the trip up passed quickly.  This was a good thing given that we were planning on making another trip down the following day to pick up more supplies ("supplies" meaning "food" - we are both fat kids at heart).  We arrived at the Ranger Station a little later in the day and quickly set about the process of unpacking, getting a fire going in the wood stove, and just making ourselves at home.  It was a quiet night, of course, and that was exactly what we both needed.

Arriving at Chimney Pond

Chimney Pond and Mt Katahdin

 The following morning we got a bit of a late start to hike down to Roaring Brook and pick up the last of our supplies.  By the time we stopped to have lunch at Roaring Brook and hiked back up to Chimney Pond, it was approaching darkness.  It was worth it, though, to be able to have more than just backpacking food while we were there.

Christmas Eve started with a trip up to Pamola Caves.  Our original plan had been for Mike to teach me  bit about ice climbing while we were there, but the weather took a strange turn around Christmas this year.  We had temperatures in the mid-50s at Chimney Pond, and the breeze off the mountain actually felt warmer.  That's unheard of at that time of year!  By the time we would leave to go home, there wouldn't be much ice left that was good for climbing.  The trip to Pamola Caves was fun, though.  Mike gave me a few basic pointers when it came to being on the mountain in winter, and neither of us had ever been to Pamola Caves before.  Honestly, I just enjoyed being outside on the mountain with Mike.  It never seems to matter what exactly has gotten us out into the woods - just that we were there and there together.

Mike at Pamola Caves

View from the trail to Pamola Caves

Christmas Day was more of the same.  Waking up to a winter morning at Chimney Pond with no one else around - I cannot really explain what it is like to someone who has never been there.  Everything is quiet and peaceful.  The air is crisp and clean.  Maybe it's Chimney Pond, maybe it's Ranger Mike - but of all the Christmas holidays that I have spent with friends and family, none has felt more like home than this Christmas.

Celebrating Christmas

Collecting water for the Ranger camp.

Skies over Katahdin

 It was difficult to pack up when it was time to go home.  As much as a part of me was ready for the luxuries such as running water, a hot shower, and a glass of wine - part of me didn't want the holiday to end.  When you are at Chimney Pond, it's as if the rest of the world doesn't exist.  All of your troubles are so far away that it's easy to get lost in the contentment of a simple life.   But like all things, our time at Chimney had to come to an end.  We made the hike back down to Roaring Brook, and it was an odd feeling to get into the truck and drive somewhere rather than hike.  It wasn't long before we were back at the house in Millinocket, but I think a piece of my heart will forever be at Chimney Pond.

Ziggy - Chimney Pond Trail

Baxter State Park - Russell Pond

Life has gotten in the way these last few months, and I am ashamed to admit that although my tip to Russell Pond happened in late July - I am just getting to writing about it now.  It was an amazing experience that I will probably fail to do justice, but I have to try.  Just know that it is a place of timeless beauty that is worth the trek through the back country to get to.

Russell Pond

The hike to Russell Pond begins at Roaring Brook Campground and takes you roughly 8 miles into the back country.  I made the trip with my boyfriend, BSP Ranger Mike Winslow, and we ran into very few people on the trail - one group on their way out and two other rangers heading out after a building project at one of the lean-to camp-sites.  Other than those two encounters, we had the trail to ourselves.  It probably had something to do with the weather, though.  It was overcast, humid, and seemed to carry the threat of not only rain but possible thunder showers.  We had a window of opportunity to reach the Russell Pond Ranger Station, and we knew that if we kept pace - we would make it before the storms, though.

I have wanted to see Russell Pond for years.  I've always had a deep appreciation for the Maine woods.  The woods present no distractions and put you in a place where you need to look inward.  There are many things to see, many beautiful views to get lost in, but I find that they bring you back to yourself.  Getting lost in the deep woods helps you find yourself.  There is something about the idea of being in such a remote place that just calls to me.  It's like stepping back in time to an era where life was better because it was simpler.  Sure it was harsh with all of the challenges that being in remote areas present, but it was also uncluttered with all of the things that seem to get in the way in today's world.

Mike and I made short work of the hike in to Russell.  The only real stops along the way were at the lean-to to see the other rangers' handiwork and a brief pause to change out our shoes for a stream crossing.  Mike is one of those rangers that doesn't see his time in the park as just a job.  He has immense respect and love for the Maine woods, and as we hiked in to Russell Pond he shared stories of the history of the area with me.  Stories of logging camps in days gone by, the place that provided the inspiration that would give birth to Bambi, and even more recent stories of back country rangers and their eccentricities.  When you are in the middle of the woods, it's funny how what is right in front of you is all that matters.  Sitting here in a coffee shop in Tulsa, OK - I find the stark contrast interesting.

When we reached the Ranger station at Russell, I dropped my pack and walked down to the dock of the pond.  Looking out across it at the mountain with the mist and vivid green of the woods - it's a scene that will forever be with me.  It was so peaceful - no background noise of traffic or planes overhead.  We had 3 more days worth of that in front of us, and I cannot remember being happier or more at ease than I was in that moment.

The early part of that evening was spent cooking dinner while Mike checked campers in, fielded the many questions that come with being a Ranger, and handled any questions coming in on the radio.  It was a quiet night, and I remember thinking about how differently time passes when you are in the woods.  Everything is so much slower paced than in our usual day to day.  I often wish we could take a small slice of that home with us.

Our second day at Russell Pond continued in the same manner our first day had.  Mike started his day with the early morning ranger duties.  As he paddled across the pond to post the weather report, I sat at the table with a cup of coffee, writing in my journal and enjoying the view across the pond.  While we had a few tasks to complete in our time there, it was really on our own time.  I remember watching him out the front window of the camp - he paddled his canoe out across the pond and took a short break to fly-fish.

I'll admit that sitting here now, the memories of our time at Russell all blend together. There was time to do fun things like fish, but there were also days of paddling/hiking up to 10 miles to check back country campsites and outhouses.  We may have been working, but it didn't feel like it as we paddled across Wassataquoik Lake and watched a mama loon on her nest, took a side trip up to see Greene Falls, and chatted with the one hiker that we came across.

While the pace of life seemed to slow down, the days at Russell Pond were over much too fast.  The day we hiked out, it was for me to hop in my Jeep for a drive to Boston to catch a flight to Charlotte, NC.  Within one day I went from one of the most remote places in Maine to the middle of a busy North Carolina city.  But in my mind, I have gone back to Russell many times in the last few months.  I look forward to spending time there again soon, and I have these photos to get me through until then.

Flag at half mast to honor fallen marines even in the back country.

Greene Falls

Lookout over Wassataquoik Lake

Road Trip Through Baxter State Park

I had the good fortune to spend my Saturday completing a non-hosted hike of Mt. Katahdin with The Summit Project.  If you saw my earlier blog post today - it was an amazing day to be on the mountain.  But that was just half of our weekend.  After everyone said their good-byes on Saturday night, I learned that Ranger Mike would be doing his run from Matagamon Gate through the park to Togue Gate to check in at all of the campgrounds.  I did not have any plans on Sunday, and he asked if I would like to tag along.  Well Sunday morning came, and it turned out I was not the only one that wanted to spend more time in the park.  CPT Jay Brainard and CPL Andrew Hutchins also joined us for the drive.

Mike's route would take him north from Millinocket to Matagamon Gate via Patten, so we thought it would be a great opportunity to stop in and pay SPC Dustin Harris a visit.  Here is a photo of Jay and Andrew with Dustin:

Andrew, Dustin, and Jay.

We stayed for several minutes while I shared memories of Dustin from school - some of them having taken place just a short trip down the road on the playground at Patten Grammar School.  Before long we had to say our good-byes.  It was a short visit, but it was nice to be able to share these memories.

Our drive took us from there up the Shin Pond Road, and as we drove I couldn't help but share stories of growing up in the area.  When we got above Shin Pond Village, I insisted we stop at Crommet Spring for water.  It's something I always did growing up when we were on the way in to South Branch Pond, and I could let us drive right by without stopping.

We also made a quick stop at Matagamon Wilderness on our way to the gate where Ranger Mike Martin was helping someone who was having car trouble.  Mike Martin's son, Mark, also went to school with Dustin and I.  It was nice to have the opportunity to catch up for a few minutes and share the TSP mission with him.  We introduced him to Jay and Andrew, and then I invited him to join us for a hike when he was able.  We are hoping to plan a hike of North Traveler in August if scheduling allows.

It is not far from the store to the gate, and I felt like a kid again as we drove by Horse Mountain.  I always was amazed just gazing up at the rock face.  To hike it from the trail-head in the park is not a strenuous hike - the mountain really isn't that big.  But to look at it from that side, it appears intimidating even at it's size.  Next we came by the Matagamon boat landing, and I thought of all of the trips I had taken here.  Trips to go kayaking on the lake, snowsled trips to go to camp, or even just a drive in to watch the sun come up across the lake.

We stopped at the gate house for Ranger Mike to check in, and Jay, Andrew, and I walked over to the picnic area where there was a view across the lake.  I took their picture with Grand Lake Matagamon in the background, and I thought of all of the people I have always shared stories of this area with.  Some of the stories were my own, but others come second hand (or third hand) from generations before me telling of hunting, fishing, and a passion for the Northern Maine Woods that I really think is just in my blood.

We made our way back up to the gate house, and as Ranger Mike came out the door, I noticed a large map of the park and surrounding areas.  It gave me an opportunity to chat with everyone about my family's hunting camp and the times I spent there with my Uncle Bob when I was little.  It made me think of Andrew and Jeff spending time out to camp together - which then made me want brownies for lunch.

From Matagamon Gate we continued on our way to Trout Brook Farm.  Oddly enough, this was probably the first time in ten years that I had stopped at Trout Brook Farm.  I always get so caught up in making my way through to South Branch Pond that I drive right on through without a thought.  Since Mike needed to stop here, though, that meant we all were stopping.  We took the opportunity to wander down by the brook for a short walk and grab another picture.

The black-flies were out in full force at Trout Brook, so we made it a short stopover there.  I know that I will come back later this year to explore some of the trails I have never traveled, though.

Our drive then took us past the Fowler Ponds trail-head, and I was reminded of a hike through there I had done with my aunt, Amanda, last November.  It was an uncharacteristically warm November day that has had me itching to come back and hike through from Fowler Ponds to South Branch (my Baxter Bucket List keeps growing).  We did not stop here, but I think I shared enough to make everyone want to come back someday.

Next up was a stop at my favorite place in the park.  Even though there are areas that I have not ventured through, I know that this will always feel like coming home.  South Branch Pond is where we always went during our summers growing up.  It was a race to see who could catch the first frog or salamander, who could swim out to the dock first, and then later on daring each other to jump from the cliffs at Upper South Branch and hiking North Traveler were added into the mix (although none of us had the energy to turn that into a race).  While Mike made his rounds, I took the boys down to the pond to snap a picture with the distinct landscape of South Branch in the background.

Shore of Lower South Branch Pond.

We stood for several minutes just taking in the view and listening to the waves meet the shore.  South Branch Pond is a place I always look forward to taking someone for the first time.  I'm not sure if Jay or Andrew had been here before, and they didn't say, but I get the impression that they enjoyed the chance to see some of the northern part of the park.

Walking back up to the Ranger Station, we found Ranger Mike sharing stories of The Summit Project with another Ranger, Gabe.  I introduced him to Jay and Andrew, and we shared their stories with him and talked about the previous day's hike of Katahdin.  Gabe has spent a lot of time in the park at South Branch, and he has probably heard many stories of hiking Katahdin along with experiencing his own.  But he was as attentive as someone hearing it for the first time while we talked about the TSP hike.  I like to think we all made an impression, and hopefully he will join us for a hike someday.  He was kind enough to send us on our way with some homemade blueberry scones, and we hit the road again for Nesowadnehunk Campground.

Now I was not much for fishing growing up.  I didn't like to eat fish, but I think I may have if I had learned to fly fish.  I've always loved to watch people fly fish - it seems to require a level of graceful movement that I am just not capable of.  Or at least not without putting myself in danger of getting a hook stuck in me rather than the fish.  I have heard, however, that Jeff Hutchins taught Andrew Hutchins to fish.  To this day, it seems to be something that Jeff really has a passion for.  So when we were about to pass by Nesowadnehunk Lake, Ranger Mike took a turn down towards the lake to see what we could see.  Even in the rain there was a boat out there on the lake with two people trying their hand at catching dinner.  Andrew and I got out of the truck to get a photo for Jeff.  We both thought he might to visit the lake someday.

Watching the fisherman from shore.

A short time later we met a campground ranger named Betsy.  I thought that a funny coincidence given that Andrew's step-mother is also named Betsy.  After spending a few minutes talking with her about Jay, Andrew, and The Summit Project - I really think that should the two Betsy's ever meet, they would both get along great and also be all kinds of trouble.... definitely my kind of people.

Betsy had a lot of work to do clearing out the campsites for the next wave of campers to move through, so we hit the road again to head for Kidney Pond.  Along the way, we passed the grave of the Unknown River Driver.  It's places like this that remind me that even years later, the people of Maine respect and honor their own.  It won't matter how much time passes, we will remember them...we will honor them.  We took no photos, but we silently paid our respects to the many lost working in the woods during that time.

As we reached Kidney Pond, I couldn't help but be excited when I saw the Library.  Yes, there is a library at Kidney Pond.  I didn't even give Ranger Mike a chance to say a word before I hopped out of the truck and headed for the Library.  As I wandered around the small building taking in the history contained in the two rooms - I was struck by two things.  First as I looked for a place to take Andrew's photo, I spotted a book called "Backcast: Fatherhood, Fly-fishing, and a River Journey Through the Heart of Alaska".  Jeff, I believe Andrew was thinking of you in that moment, and so was I.  He posed with the book so I could take this photo:

Visiting the Kidney Pond Library

Now I also wanted to take Jay's photo, but unfortunately I did not know Jay as well as I know Andrew.  Remembering how Ranger Mike had spoken of Jay's love for hiking and the outdoors - I spotted a book I read years ago that is about a boy achieving what everyone else deemed impossible by reaching a summit no one else dared to.  Here is his photo with "Banner in the Sky":

Jay at Kidney Pond Library.

Now - this is truly a sign.  As I sit here writing about our journey through the park, I went back to The Summit Project's page that tells Jay's story.  Jay met his wife, Emily, at a bowling alley in 2005 where she says they just instantly clicked.  Sitting next to Jay is a bowling ball, and I didn't know why this was here on the bookshelf until Ranger Mike shared the story of how the Colt Family once had a bowling alley at Kidney Pond.  Later I would use Google to find that this had been at the request of Ethel Barrymore Colt who favored bowling and insisted on that luxury even at a place as remote as Kidney Pond.  Of course this was many years ago, but the table tops in the Library were made from the lanes themselves and these two bowling balls remain .. two pieces of history sitting on the shelf where I just happened to take Jay's photo.

Taking in the view from the tables at Kidney Pond.

It turns out that Kidney Pond was not the only place in the park that was fortunate enough to have a Library.  Pulling up to the Ranger Station at Daicey Pond, I was pleasantly surprised to find another waiting for me.  This library was smaller, but every library has it's hidden treasures if you stop to look.  We found a set of antlers on the wall that I am sure has a story, although I could not tell you what that was.  We found a Smokey Bear puzzle that again made me think of Jeff and smile.  And then there was the small book left by an artist that had spent time at Daicey Pond sketching the landscapes and wild-life.  I thought it might be a book Jay would have liked, as there were many scenes of Katahdin that were most likely sketched from the campground we were now at.

Smokey Bear and cubs.

Jay loved Katahdin.

View from the Library porch.

Looking out across the pond at the wind and rain, we were all glad we had hiked Katahdin on Saturday when the weather was much more cooperative.  Being on the mountain on Sunday would have been a much tougher day.

Katahdin Stream Campground was our next stop.  This was far more familiar, as we had all been there just a month earlier as part of TSP at BSP 2015.  It's unbelievable how fast a month has passed.  It was another reminder to me just how important each day is and how much I appreciated the chance to spend my weekend in the park as part of TSP.  The ranger at Katahdin Stream was out, so Andrew and Jay did not get to meet him.  They did, however, get to take a couple of photos on the porch of the Ranger Station where so many Katahdin hikers have stopped.  This made me think of Mike Keighley who is currently thru-hiking the AT headed for Maine.  Jay will be making his way to Mike in the upcoming week to hike back to Katahdin Stream and summit Katahdin with Mike in late July.

Checking out the model of Mt. Katahdin.

The AT Hiker Registry

We had another stop at Abol Campground, but we did not have an opportunity for photos there.  Jay and Andrew did get to meet Ranger Dave, though, and we stayed for several minutes laughing more than once as Dave shared stories of life in the park.  I was sad to leave both because we were having fun and because this was our last stop before we would hit Togue Gate.  Or so I thought...until Ranger Mike says "Do you want to get a photo with a moose?"

Apparently to be a Baxter State Park Ranger, you also have to be a moose-whisperer - even if it's not really on the job application.  Either way, if I were Mike, I'd add it to his resume.  We pulled over to park when we reached Stump Pond, and sure enough we walked out to find a moose eating his dinner across the pond.  Even with the weather, we stayed to watch him for a while.

Andrew and Jay at Stump Pond.  That brown dot in the background....

Is this guy watching us.  He wouldn't come close enough to talk TSP, though.

It was starting to rain a little heavier, so we made our way back to the truck for our last stop - Togue Gate.  This was the end of the run, so we were here just a little longer than the campgrounds.  I brought Jay and Andrew in to meet David White and Brandon Theriault who were manning the gate that day.  It struck me how they seem to work so well together.  Cars would come and go, and the transition from conversation out to check cars in/out and back to our conversation was almost seamless.  Once there was a lull in their duties, I asked them if they would like to meet Andrew and Jay.  I shared the TSP mission with them, and both Ranger Mike and I were able to share a bit about Jay and Andrew.  I almost teared up when I saw the impact Andrew's story had on Brandon as he realized how close they were in age.

Brandon (left) with Andrew and David (right) with Jay.

They both asked for information on how they could get involved with The Summit Project, and I passed the information along.  I hope to see them on the trails one day excited to share a TSP story with us.

Our road trip through the park was complete, and from here the day was done for me.  I had a 5+ hour drive to go back to Massachusetts.  After such an amazing day in the park, it was difficult to turn my Jeep south on I-95.  But this was a day that would stay with me until the next time I could come back to Maine where I belong.  There were many memories made with Andrew and with Jay - memories that will stay with me forever.  It is my hope that people will wander across this blog, learn a little about Andrew and Jay, and be inspired to learn about all of our fallen loved ones to carry on the TSP mission and show that Maine Heroes Are Not Forgotten.