Date(s) Hiked:
May 28-30, 2005
Trails(s) Hiked:
Appalachian Trail, 3 unnamed spur trails to Sugarloaf Mtn, Mt. Abraham, and Spaulding Mtn, respectively.
Total Distance:
28.5 miles
Difficulty:
Moderate due to distance. Terrain varied easy to moderate. Sugarloaf to CVR was difficult due to steep ledge areas, especially with large packs.
Conditions:
Wet, muddy, cold, plenty of postholing in 1'-3' of snow on north-facing trails.
Special Required Equipment:
Waterproof boots, gaiters, footwear for fording.
Trip Report:
Many people consider Memorial Day to be the start of summer. That's what we were hoping as Mary Ellen, her sister Rachel, my friend Amy, and I took the three-day weekend to make our way across 25 miles of the Appalachian Trail in the Carrabassett region of Maine. We would be deceived, as snow, cold, and mud still lingered throughout the mountains.
This trip started on Friday afternoon, leaving work early and heading up to meet Amy at the Portsmouth park-n-ride. Unfortunately, due to an interesting misunderstanding about location, we were waiting in two different places for over an hour. Once that got resolved, we booked it up north, finally pulling into the Spillover Motel in Stratton, Maine, around 9:30. It wouldn't be long before we were asleep.
The morning brought rain, but not a lot, and we weren't deterred. Temperatures weren't cold; a long-sleeve shirt was desired but extra layers weren't necessary. After a muddy, rough journey up Caribou Valley Road we met Mary Ellen & Rachel at the AT crossing, loaded up my car, and made our way all around the area and down to Rangely and the AT crossing of Rte 4.
The rain at the trailhead had already stopped, and we started on the AT in cloudy but fine conditions. After an intriguing metal steel grate bridge over a stone flume, we made a somewhat steep climb out of the Sandy River valley then played follow the contour all the way to Piazza Rock shelter, site of a remarkable privy: a two-holer with a cribbage board between the seats. If you weren't close friends before the game, you would be afterward!
From there it was a combination of flat trail with deep mud alternating with and steep climbs as we made our way up past Ethel Pond and over to Eddy Pond, where we stopped right at noon to sit on the shore rocks and enjoy lunch. There were still many miles to go, however, so we didn't stay long before returning to the trail for the long, steady climb up to the summit of Saddleback.
Saddleback Mountain, at 4120', was my 54th New England 4000-footer (out of 67). The views from this open, above-treeline peak and ridge were stunning, but just barely under an ominous cloud deck. We could see rain in the distance, and being dry wanted to stay that way, so without further ado we started down the north side of the peak where we would encounter the only unexpected hiker of the entire weekend: a woman who had come up the Saddleback ski trails (easily visible from further up the ridge) and gone over to the Horn and was heading back. Then ... we hit the snow.
All winter people had been hiking this trail, their boots and snowshoes packing down the snow tightly. So as spring progressed and the surrounding snow melted (albeit slowly, being the north side of the mountain), the hard-packed trail was slow to pass. As we made our way down, there were places where we could step that would support our weight, and spots where we (no, let me be specific: *I*) would posthole down into the snow. And what was under the two to three feet of icy snow scratching up my legs? A cold, running stream of meltwater, penetrating the holes in my boots and soaking my feet. It took no time for my footsteps to be remarkably squishy.
By 3:00 we were up on The Horn, NE 4K #55 at 4041'. From here we could see Mt. Abraham rising up in a patch of sunlight, and were shocked at just how far away it looked, since we knew we would be climbing it the very next day. In fact, Sugarloaf, on the schedule for the day after, looked an eternity off in the distance. It was very disheartening. Even worse was looking down on this great-looking building, believing it was our destination shelter for the day, and realizing no, we actually would have to go up over the summit near it (Saddleback Junior) and only then would we reach our home for the evening. So we trodded. And trod. Up and over. Finally, after 10.7 miles, we arrived at Poplar Ridge Shelter.
This was a fascinating place to stay. The shelter is built in the old style, with a floor made not of boards, but of spruce logs approximately the same diameter as a baseball bat. I was very grateful to have my new, thick sleeping pad with me, as it would have been horrible trying to sleep without such a layer. The shelter was nice, but it was very muddy. So muddy that just to be around the shelter, much less trek to the privy, required wearing our boots. But once "nested" with water filtered and camp stoves heating dinner, we were cozy. As the only occupants of the lean-to shelter, we could spread out and relax, and a very pleasant evening easily turned to a good night's sleep, dry and safe while showers passed us by.
We woke with the light the next morning, and by 7:30 were up on the trail crossing over Poplar Ridge proper, with views and photos. The skies were cloudy, the air cool, the trail along the ridge winding through lovely woods. Then the descent began. This was the time for me to be nervous. There had been torrential rains the previous week, and we were approaching Orbeton Stream, the drainage for Redington Pond, which we would have to ford.
As it turned out, we would cross water that was up to mid-thigh on me. Fortunately, it was not a dangerous current, we had rocks to brace ourselves against, it was surprisingly warm (my theory is that it was because it was rainwater off the top of the pond), and since all of our boots were still wet we just wore them right through. In fact, it was downright fun!
On the other bank, we started up. Straight up. Grab-a-root-and-pull up. Right alongside the beautiful cascade of Flume Brook to the top of the slope where an old railroad grade cuts through with surprising regularity. It was remarkable to think that people could get to where we were just by taking a 4WD or ATV. As we continued up the minor ravine of Flume Brook, we would pass several more old logging roads. The trail was alternating between solid, mud, and super-slippery puncheon (log bridge). We finally came to a road that looked still in service - it had a grass surface and a big stack of precut logs ready to be installed as new puncheons. This would be lunchtime before we later found that there was another road, this one gravel and in excellent condition, marking the landmark of Perham Stream. Again, it felt weird that you could just drive to these locations. But there was little time to think about it, as we started up the miserable ascent of Lone Mountain, a wooded lump that the AT seems to go out of its way to cross. In fact, my old USGS map doesn't even show the trail going that way. Regardless, we made our steep, slippery way to the peak and took a well-needed, and deserved, break up top as it started to lightly rain.
The redeeming factor of Lone Mountain, however, is that it is actually a shoulder of Mt. Abraham, and so after a short descent we had a very mellow ascent and a contour follow to the side trail to the summit of Abraham. At this point, Amy dropped her pack for the 3.4-mile round trip, and we should have followed suit. After a nice flat section, the trail wound up through a section of nasty blowdowns (fallen trees across the trail) where other packs got left rather than try to crawl with them. I managed to find an easy way around the worst blowdown, and kept my pack with me almost to treeline. Along the way we encountered Paula and Julz, fellow VFTT members that we expected to see on this journey. They were headed for the lean-to and we'd meet up with them later.
Above treeline was nothing but cold, wet, windy, and grey. In fact, I was feeling really lousy. I had eaten lunch, but apparently not enough, and I only had one thin layer under my shell. This was not good, and as I went from false summit to false summit I continued to berate my own judgment and hope that I wasn't going to get hypothermic (I was at great risk). When I got to the summit at 4050' I posed for one quick picture for my 56th NE 4000-footer before booking it back below treeline. I would add a layer and have two snacks when I got back to my pack, and by the time I got back to the junction with the AT I felt great. It's amazing what a difference food and warmth can do.
From there it was an easy game of follow-the-contour to Spaulding Mountain Shelter. While the area was still wet, the ground around the shelter was mud-free, and after our 11.7 mile day it felt great to take the still-soaking-wet boots off and get some air. Julz and Paula chose to stay in their tent, and so we again had the shelter to ourselves. Coming the other direction, from Crocker Cirque, HikerDave and WildPeaks would arrive later in the evening to complete the VFTT group trifecta.
I was feeling great at this point - the second day of a 3-day hike is always my favorite, starting in the woods and ending in the woods. I headed into my food bag for my special treat - a tin of chicken and a bag of baby carrots. I added those to my simmering noodle soup on the cookstove and had the most amazing, simple chicken soup as the rain reappeared outside the shelter. It was a wonderfully social evening with all 8 of us there, and it was with regret that I eventually fell asleep.
Monday morning. Memorial Day. Time to tag Spaulding, Sugarloaf, deal with crossing the Carrabassett River, and head home. Immediately my mood plummeted, as it always does when the destination is just "the car". Oh, and the rain was on its way, too. Oh, well. We packed and made our way up the short, easy spur trail to the summit of 4010' Spaulding Mountain, my 57th NE 4K. From there it was an easy, wooded ridge walk, keeping around the 3500' mark, to the 1-mile spur trail up to Sugarloaf. At this point, the rain was coming down for real. We dropped packs, put on our shells and hats, and went up the trail. It was remarkable; this short piece of trail was entirely unlike everything else we'd hiked - its rocky character was more like New Hampshire than Maine. It's interesting that it could even give off that recognizable a feeling.
Atop Sugarloaf Mountain, 4250', we celebrated our achievements (my 58th NE 4000-footer) in the wind-driven rain for only a moment before heading the mile back down to the AT. We regrouped there before separating again as we all took our own pace down. The trail wove through some remarkable areas on the face of Sugarloaf, from a foggy, swampy area where I almost lost the trail, to open rockslides. I could hear the roar of the river below, but when I finally got a clear view down to it I could see that the crossing would not be a problem. Filled with that relief I easily cruised down the steep, knee-and-quad-killing trail. There was even one spot where I had to lower myself, a reverse chinup, down a ledge. I was grateful we didn't go up this way.
At the South Branch of the Carrabassett River we regrouped again. This crossing was easy, only knee-deep, and since my feet were still soaked and we were only moments from the car, we again just left our boots on for the crossing. And then we were done, back at the car on Caribou Valley Road. It was a good thing we'd left Mary Ellen's car there, not mine, as this logging road was even softer and more wet than when we'd come up the first time. 4WD was a good thing to have that day.
28.5 miles, between 8500' and 11000' of elevation gain, 3 days, soaking rain, good friends, virtually no bugs, rotten snow, mud ... it was definitely a good time. As we drove away I looked at the next stretch of the AT, knowing I'd be back to hike it the following weekend and hoping it would be warmer and dryer. I would get more than I hoped for.
8)
May 28-30, 2005
Trails(s) Hiked:
Appalachian Trail, 3 unnamed spur trails to Sugarloaf Mtn, Mt. Abraham, and Spaulding Mtn, respectively.
Total Distance:
28.5 miles
Difficulty:
Moderate due to distance. Terrain varied easy to moderate. Sugarloaf to CVR was difficult due to steep ledge areas, especially with large packs.
Conditions:
Wet, muddy, cold, plenty of postholing in 1'-3' of snow on north-facing trails.
Special Required Equipment:
Waterproof boots, gaiters, footwear for fording.
Trip Report:
This trip started on Friday afternoon, leaving work early and heading up to meet Amy at the Portsmouth park-n-ride. Unfortunately, due to an interesting misunderstanding about location, we were waiting in two different places for over an hour. Once that got resolved, we booked it up north, finally pulling into the Spillover Motel in Stratton, Maine, around 9:30. It wouldn't be long before we were asleep.
The morning brought rain, but not a lot, and we weren't deterred. Temperatures weren't cold; a long-sleeve shirt was desired but extra layers weren't necessary. After a muddy, rough journey up Caribou Valley Road we met Mary Ellen & Rachel at the AT crossing, loaded up my car, and made our way all around the area and down to Rangely and the AT crossing of Rte 4.
From there it was a combination of flat trail with deep mud alternating with and steep climbs as we made our way up past Ethel Pond and over to Eddy Pond, where we stopped right at noon to sit on the shore rocks and enjoy lunch. There were still many miles to go, however, so we didn't stay long before returning to the trail for the long, steady climb up to the summit of Saddleback.
All winter people had been hiking this trail, their boots and snowshoes packing down the snow tightly. So as spring progressed and the surrounding snow melted (albeit slowly, being the north side of the mountain), the hard-packed trail was slow to pass. As we made our way down, there were places where we could step that would support our weight, and spots where we (no, let me be specific: *I*) would posthole down into the snow. And what was under the two to three feet of icy snow scratching up my legs? A cold, running stream of meltwater, penetrating the holes in my boots and soaking my feet. It took no time for my footsteps to be remarkably squishy.
This was a fascinating place to stay. The shelter is built in the old style, with a floor made not of boards, but of spruce logs approximately the same diameter as a baseball bat. I was very grateful to have my new, thick sleeping pad with me, as it would have been horrible trying to sleep without such a layer. The shelter was nice, but it was very muddy. So muddy that just to be around the shelter, much less trek to the privy, required wearing our boots. But once "nested" with water filtered and camp stoves heating dinner, we were cozy. As the only occupants of the lean-to shelter, we could spread out and relax, and a very pleasant evening easily turned to a good night's sleep, dry and safe while showers passed us by.
As it turned out, we would cross water that was up to mid-thigh on me. Fortunately, it was not a dangerous current, we had rocks to brace ourselves against, it was surprisingly warm (my theory is that it was because it was rainwater off the top of the pond), and since all of our boots were still wet we just wore them right through. In fact, it was downright fun!
The redeeming factor of Lone Mountain, however, is that it is actually a shoulder of Mt. Abraham, and so after a short descent we had a very mellow ascent and a contour follow to the side trail to the summit of Abraham. At this point, Amy dropped her pack for the 3.4-mile round trip, and we should have followed suit. After a nice flat section, the trail wound up through a section of nasty blowdowns (fallen trees across the trail) where other packs got left rather than try to crawl with them. I managed to find an easy way around the worst blowdown, and kept my pack with me almost to treeline. Along the way we encountered Paula and Julz, fellow VFTT members that we expected to see on this journey. They were headed for the lean-to and we'd meet up with them later.
From there it was an easy game of follow-the-contour to Spaulding Mountain Shelter. While the area was still wet, the ground around the shelter was mud-free, and after our 11.7 mile day it felt great to take the still-soaking-wet boots off and get some air. Julz and Paula chose to stay in their tent, and so we again had the shelter to ourselves. Coming the other direction, from Crocker Cirque, HikerDave and WildPeaks would arrive later in the evening to complete the VFTT group trifecta.
I was feeling great at this point - the second day of a 3-day hike is always my favorite, starting in the woods and ending in the woods. I headed into my food bag for my special treat - a tin of chicken and a bag of baby carrots. I added those to my simmering noodle soup on the cookstove and had the most amazing, simple chicken soup as the rain reappeared outside the shelter. It was a wonderfully social evening with all 8 of us there, and it was with regret that I eventually fell asleep.
Monday morning. Memorial Day. Time to tag Spaulding, Sugarloaf, deal with crossing the Carrabassett River, and head home. Immediately my mood plummeted, as it always does when the destination is just "the car". Oh, and the rain was on its way, too. Oh, well. We packed and made our way up the short, easy spur trail to the summit of 4010' Spaulding Mountain, my 57th NE 4K. From there it was an easy, wooded ridge walk, keeping around the 3500' mark, to the 1-mile spur trail up to Sugarloaf. At this point, the rain was coming down for real. We dropped packs, put on our shells and hats, and went up the trail. It was remarkable; this short piece of trail was entirely unlike everything else we'd hiked - its rocky character was more like New Hampshire than Maine. It's interesting that it could even give off that recognizable a feeling.
At the South Branch of the Carrabassett River we regrouped again. This crossing was easy, only knee-deep, and since my feet were still soaked and we were only moments from the car, we again just left our boots on for the crossing. And then we were done, back at the car on Caribou Valley Road. It was a good thing we'd left Mary Ellen's car there, not mine, as this logging road was even softer and more wet than when we'd come up the first time. 4WD was a good thing to have that day.
28.5 miles, between 8500' and 11000' of elevation gain, 3 days, soaking rain, good friends, virtually no bugs, rotten snow, mud ... it was definitely a good time. As we drove away I looked at the next stretch of the AT, knowing I'd be back to hike it the following weekend and hoping it would be warmer and dryer. I would get more than I hoped for.
8)
