the room to pack our bags and check out. The sign said we had to be out by 9a so they could clean for the next guests. Just before 9a we were ready and headed downstairs into the sea of hikers.
I’m not really sure how many hikers stay at Shaw’s on an average night during their busy season. For the last two days it has to have been at least thirty to forty. Some camp, others stay in the house or the bunkhouse next door. With that many guests, I’m crazy impressed at how efficiently Shaw’s is ran. The only thing that isn’t all that efficient is the bathroom situation. There are three full bathrooms total. That’s only three toilets for a lot of dirty people. Plus, Shaw’s is in a neighborhood, so it’s not like people can use the woods if there’s someone taking a long time to clean up. Although, for the most part, the restrooms are easy to get to during the day. It’s only morning and evening that a line starts to form. Unfortunately, those tend to be the most urgent times.
We settled up before leaving. Which means we went to the owners, listed out what services we used and they gave us our total. It’s all honor based. We could have left things out if we were jerks. We aren’t. We are “Bad Company”… we are honest. Our total for one night of camping, one night in a room, laundry, four breakfasts (two people, two days), and a food drop came to $168-. Almost a quarter of that is the food drop. Somewhere in the 100 Mile Wilderness they will meet us and give us the food we set aside for the last few days. It allows us to carry light over the tougher terrain with only three days of food and then resupply with the drop-off. There are no stores in this last stretch, so it’s either carry six or more days of food or use a food drop service like Shaw’s. I’d rather not carry six day’s worth of food for two people. It would be around twenty four pounds. Instead, getting the food drop lets me cut that in half. A heavy pack makes for a grumpy Ansel. The money for the food drop is well spent.
We were back on the trail around 10a. Less than a quarter of a mile from the road is a sign announcing your entrance into the 100 Mile Wilderness. It warns that there are no options for supplies, etc. If you are not properly prepared for this stretch, the sign urges that you turn back now. At the end of the 100 miles is Baxter State Park. We are exactly a week away from our hopeful summit day. Seeing the sign made us all a bit confused. Not on what we are doing or anything, but confused on how we feel. We are weirdly anxious, excited, exhausted, invigorated, sad, happy, and so much more. Family and friends have reached out to congratulate and encourage us during this last stretch. Their support has meant the world to us. Without them, this would have been a much harder endeavor. One friend wrote me:
“Kate. I can’t believe you are finishing your last week on the trail! I hope every step is a reminder of the strength you have, that every view is a reminder of the artistic God we have, that every breath is a reminder that we are a people of life. Take it in girl, and make these last few days your best! I miss you Kate, and cannot wait to hear from your mouth the adventures you’ve had! … I pray for you every day! And will continue to do so!”
I was moved by her words. Well… that’s putting it lightly. Honestly, she just described exactly what this experience has reminded me. I am strong, God is the ultimate “creative”, and people are called to invest into one another – lift up each other. Although these are things I understood before the AT, they are now firmly rooted into my heart. I’ve learned so many lessons from the trail so far, I’m excited to see if the next hundred plus miles bring any more.
The wilderness met us with a cloudy and misty day. I thought it was perfect. The mist never formed into a hard rain. For the most part we were shielded from it by the trees. The air was cool enough you weren’t exhausted and was warm enough you weren’t chilly. The next week is supposed to be nice all the way through our summit. I am desperately praying it stays that way. I’d like to end this incredible journey on a good note. Weather has so much to do with how well a day goes.
The four of us stopped to eat lunch at a waterfall. We sat on a rock ledge just down in front of it to give us a good view of the water. The rocks jutted out on steep, almost vertical angles. It was such a unique pattern. Hiking with a geologist, we understand that those rocks formed horizontally and then at some point, either from plates shifting or other reasons, the rocks were forced up vertical. It’s a cool thing to imagine how the earth shifts and changes, producing visible effects. This world certainly is not static.
Most of today was easy terrain. There were some stretches of boulders, roots, and mud. There was one place where we truly had to ford (cross) the river. It was the first river of the AT that we actually had to go in. We took off our socks and shoes, put on our shower shoes to protect our feet and started to walk through. Warthog was not excited. He hates cold water. He did fine though. After just ten feet or so, your body seemed to get used to it.
We kept leapfrogging a section hiker named “Jenerous”. She is only hiking Maine – a part of the trail that is still approximately 280 miles long. She introduced herself as “Jen”. We asked if she had a trailname. She answered, “Well, a couple of thru-hikers called me ‘Generous Jen’ because I was always trying to give them things. But I don’t know…”. I suggested she change it to just “Jenerous”. I thought it had a more straightforward ring to it. She didn’t seem to object, so all afternoon and evening that’s what we called her.
Another hiker we were excited to run into was a guy coming southbound. Warthog and I actually camped with him on our second or third night. Now his name is “Staff”. Back then I don’t think he had a trailname. Why Staff? Well, he carries a large wooden staff as a walking stick but he also spent a bit of time in the hospital due to a staph infection – something that took out a good chunk of his calf. I felt bad, but I didn’t give him the normal hiker fist-bump we do as a “hi” or “bye”. This is a guy who I think had a couple of knee replacements and used a stove that burned small kindling in order to cook or generate power to charge his phone. Warthog and I were both shocked to see him. He completed about 500 miles to Damascus, VA going northbound, then decided to do a “flip flop”. He went up to Katahdin to summit and is now hiking southbound until he reaches Damascus. Honestly, we are impressed he’s out here. That night we camped with him, we weren’t sure what to expect. It just goes to show you how you shouldn’t judge a book by its’ cover.
A few miles after seeing Staff, we came to a spot that we were excited to reach all day. It was a road crossing that points to trail magic – trail magic that we were repeatedly told that we should not miss. “Scout” is the trail angel.
Just two tenths of a mile down a side path is his hunting cabin. He lives five hours away, but is often here. When he is, he leaves a sign out welcoming hikers. We walked up to the cabin, not sure how forward to be. His dog, Chasky, greeted us when we arrived. Scout quickly invited us to drop our packs and grab something to drink. We could choose from soda or beer. Scout immediately fired up the grill and fed us burgers, hotdogs, chicken, and Oreos. It was delicious. We sat eating until it started to get dark when Scout invited us to camp in his lawn. It’s something he often offers to hikers. We knew that and were hoping he would welcome us to stay. Once he did we ran out and set up the tent. Well, Warthog set up the tent. I played catch with Chasky, his yellow lab. When I tried to stop to help, Warthog insisted that I keep playing with the dog. I think he knew I needed it. While we were busy, Scout got a fire started in the wood stove inside the hunting cabin. It’s a small cabin with a porch on it. There’s one room that has three sets of bunk beds, a table in the center, and the stove and sink along a wall. It’s everything you need; food, warmth, shelter, water, a privy out back… oh, and a dog.
The fire drew us all in, literally, like moths to a flame. We spent the next two hours chatting, sharing stories, learning about Maine, laughing. There was a lot of laughing. I was once again reminded why this trail is so beautiful. It’s not just the amazing scenery that you are sometimes rewarded with. Although today was breathtaking the way fall seems to be fully settled now. No, it’s beautiful for far more reasons than the views. It’s beautiful because of the people you connect with and the moments you share. Regardless of if you know one another or not, you share a common thing – you are human, you are alive. Let’s celebrate this life and each other. That’s essentially what we did tonight. We respected each others humanity by listening and sharing with one another. Further more, we did it thanks to the generosity of one man who opened his cabin to total strangers.
Why does Scout care about thru-hikers? He’s never hiked the AT. However, his late son did. I’m not sure how or why his son passed away. I didn’t ask. I figured if Scout wanted to share that information, he would have. But I understand why he offers this trail magic. I assume it keeps him connected to his son and connected to a community that I’m sure meant a lot to him.
It was almost 9p before people interrupted the evening for bed. We came back to the tent while just the slightest mist was falling. Once we were snuggled in and laying down, Warthog turned to me and said, “Well, one night in the 100 Mile Wilderness is down,”. We both laughed at the absurdity of camping in someone’s lawn having eaten a dinner cooked on a grill when we are supposed to be in a stretch of nothing but the natural world. Ah… but I wouldn’t change it a bit. Tonight was too perfect to be any different. What a way to start the beginning of the end.
-ansel