Entering Maine, as Tough as the Whites, plus Bogs

Welcome to Maine!

The Whites may have the reputation for being the toughest section of the AT, but southern Maine is sure as hell no cakewalk.  We headed out of Gorham in the rain, on a slippy, sloppy trail.  Probably the dominant feature in Maine is the mud, in some cases, bottomless pools crisscrossed with wood planks.  These “bog-boards” may—or may not—actually be above the surface of the mud or water.  A misstep can land you thigh or hip deep in the muck, and you’re unlikely to ever see your boots again.  There are also near-vertical scrambles up rock faces, which really aren’t that pleasant in the rain, when you never know, if your feet will shoot out from under you and send you reeling back to the bottom.

The first view of Maine, after a foggy first day.

Our second day in Maine was clear and sunny, but it also took us into Mahoosuc Notch, notorious as either the most fun or most difficult single mile on the trail.  We would have to vote for the latter.  It’s not so much hiking as it is an exercise in creative problem-solving in three dimensions.  It’s difficult to describe the Notch to the uninitiated—it’s a scramble over, under, through rocks of all sizes.  And it took us FOUR hours.  Did I mention that it’s just ONE mile? Oy.  Part of the problem for us was the scary, nasty fall Pancho took near the beginning of the Notch.  He lost his footing, and fell straight back, 5-6 feet down, flat onto his back.  It was one of the rare moments that having a huge pack strapped to your back became a positive.  His ankle wedged between two rocks, twisted, yet, fortunately not broken.  It scared the crap out of me.

After a long, frustrating day on the trail, we reconnected with our friends Swift and Deja, before heading into Grafton Notch and the Mahoosuc Mountain Lodge.  Not one of our better choices. A great facility—they guide dogsled trips and have 40 huge dogs on site—but not as hiker-friendly as they could be.  So, our intrepid buddy Swift set out to hitch 15 miles into Bethel for supplies (i.e., beer and food).  If there is one guarantee with Swift, it’s that he’ll come back with a great story.  It took 2 hitches to get into Bethel to the grocery store.  Swift left the store with a shopping cart full of burger-fixings and beer.  After pushing the cart for some distance, he spied a pizza delivery shop.  Huh. An opportunity, no?  So he went in and asked if they delivered to the Lodge.  Nope—too far. “Really?” says Swift. “Well, let me talk to the driver.”  “What do you mean?” sputters the manager.  “That’s not how this works!” But Swift already had the driver in his sights and says, “let’s talk terms….”  After a bit of negotiating and an exchange of currency, Swift, the driver, two pizzas, the groceries, and beer are on the way.  Soon thereafter, Deja and I spot a car gliding to a stop in the drive, about 100 yards from the Lodge.  Excitement—it’s a pizza guy!  And Swift!  Why are they stopped way out there?  Because, they ran out of gas, of course.  But we had appetizer pizza, burgers on the grill, and beer.  Not such a bad evening J.

From Mahoosuc Mountain, we headed into Andover to the Pine Ellis hostel.  To say that Andover is a small town is a bit of an understatement.  There are two hiker hostels, a general store/gas station/diner, and one stop sign.  We stayed at the “better” of the two hostels, as we got to sleep in a room with a bed versus sleeping in the driveway in a cargo container (no joke!).  We spent three nights there, slackpacking through the difficult section of southern Maine.  Though very tasty, we definitely exhausted the menu at the diner, not to mention freaking out the waitresses with the sheer quantity of items we ordered at every meal.

On top of Baldpate Mountain.

Pancho in Maine.

With Swift and Deja at Pine Ellis, Andover, ME.

This morning, we finally left Pine Ellis, heading into Rangeley, an adorable vacation town on a string of beautiful lakes.  We busted out a blazing 13-mile hike in under 6 hours, then hitched into town to the North Country B & B, in a beautiful old house facing the lake.  At the moment, we’re sitting at the bar of a little bistro—a delightful change from the Andover diner—drinking some wonderful blueberry-basil cocktails (Pancho is paying attention so he can re-create at home).

This will likely be our last post with pictures until we summit Katahdin.  We only have 14 hiking days left on our northbound leg.  Wow.  We’re planning to take a break for a couple of days near Caratunk, after crossing the Kennebec (in a canoe ferry!), at Northern Outdoors center, for some rafting and beer, to fortify ourselves for the last push.