Katahdin Two Times

Day 1 Katahdin

I was dehydrated, yet soaked. Wet yet thirsty. Nature’s cruelty on the mountain. The forecast for the day read ‘partly sunny’. At approximately 12 PM I had been hiking for 4 hours in the pouring cold rain. At best, visibility was 15 feet. I had taken off my glasses much earlier in the hike cause the rain kept beading up on my lenses and obscuring my myopic view. Better to be blind in the fog rather than dizzy and nauseous from viewing through water droplets collecting on my glasses. I felt I had just landed on Mars. The rocks were red and green. From the baxter trail cut off to the top of baxter peak, the trail was nearly all flat covered with sharp jagged red rocks. It was a sharp contrast to the Appalachian mountain trail’s middle section which had been all grey stone- large unwielding boulders which I had to squirm, pull, jump, swivel and crawl to get past. Because of the flatness of the trail, I worried if would lose the path because I couldn’t tell if I were heading in the direction of the summit. My boots were completely waterlogged and I could feel the water squish out of my socks with each step I took. I was underwater looking at the most peculiar red green ocean floor. Many times, bright lights flashed before my eyes. Was it lightning? If it was, no thunder was to be heard. (if I was caught in a lightning storm, I had nowhere to hide) I was on a flat plateau 5,000 feet above sea level. Upon encountering more bright flashes, I soon realized they were actually harmless miniature clouds whipped before my eyes by the gusting winds.

What a relief. All I had to contend with was the rain and driving wind. When you’re wet and cold, you have to keep moving to maintain your body temperature. And when there’s wind you can’t peel your wet layers off because of the wind chill. You could say I was in equilibrium hiking up mt. katahdin. Hiking just fast enough to retain body heat and avoid hypothermia, not peeling any clothes off because of the piercing cold wind, not putting any more clothes on because I didn’t have any, not walking up a steep incline, nor descending an incline, just walking forth in the fog towards the peak.

Once in a while I would see a dark form through the fog. ‘an apparition, a lost spirit wandering the top of the mountain,’ I thought. Like odysseus, I had entered hades, ghosts of the past passed before my eyes through the heavy fog. Well not exactly. They were dejected hikers descending. One of the passerbys suggested I turn back. It was over an hour to the top and they said it was incredibly windy. He and his team hadn’t managed to make it up to the top, they had given up and were on their way back.

I was tempted by good reason to get down the mountain and dry off and hike when the skies had cleared. But that would have been the rational thing to do. I kept on hiking. Once I got to the top I wasn’t really impressed. The view was similar to the view at the bottom of the mountain: foggy, visibility 10 feet. The wind was a lot stronger though. And I was cold. After another minute at the top, I was really cold, and faced with the prospect of finishing what I had started. What goes up must go down. My whole body was drenched and I started plodding down. For miles at a time, I didn’t see a single soul. While the world was going about its business at the bottom, I was battling cold rain, wind, and fog through a field of red and green rocks on the top of katahdin. Meanwhile it must’ve been quiet at the base of the mountain and noone there could’ve imagined the experience I was engaging in. actually they probably could’ve imagined my situation, and perhaps that was the reason they elected to remain at the base of katahdin. People who won’t hike up the tallest mountain in maine simply because there are deep dark ominous gray clouds around. To these cowards, I had little to say, for they had not tested themselves to nature’s elements. They are but the ‘fair weather sunny day hikers’.

Descending the middle of the ‘Hunt’ trail was grueling. At every boulder, my hands became increasingly more raw from climbing and desperate grappling for cold rock crevices. My knees started to ache from the impact of landing jumps. By the time I arrived at the base, I was wet, tired, sore, raw, dehydrated and cold. The catch 22 of baxter is that campsite availability for waitlist arrivals is known at 8 AM but the park opens at 6 AM and the sun starts setting at 4 PM and a roundtrip hike to the summit takes 9 hours. So you either hike or get a camping space but never both if you don’t reserve a coveted camping space a year in advance.

By far, the worst news I received on completing my hike was the weather report for the following day calling for a beautiful day and lots of sun….

Having hiked up katahdin in the rain and not seen the panoramic view, I had to leap at a chance of hiking katahdin in good weather. Not knowing there would be any clear days for the rest of the week I was there, logically I decided to hike katahdin again the following day. two nine hour hikes back to back. Some people never get to the summit of katahdin, and here I was, planning to reach the summit on a daily basis.

Day 2 Katahdin

I got up at 3:20 AM the following day. I usually wake up early, but when I have to wake up early, I get nervous I won’t wake up, and then have a hard time going to sleep because I fear I won’t wake up on time. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep before hiking Katahdin again. Since I didn’t have a camping slot, I had to go to the nearest town and stay at a motel 12 miles away. I decided to get to the park entrance early. Thoreau hiked this mountain and wrote about his journey. In the past, access to the mountain was via the androscoggin river, nowadays, it’s a drive on dirt gravel roads. Baxter state park was established with donated land by the former governor of Maine. It’s unique in that they set a quota of visitors per day.. so the trails are not inundated with crowds, and the tranquil nature experience is preserved. This is great for the hiking experience but a little annoying in terms of hiking. I remember arriving at the entrance to the park and pitching a tent so I could ensure entry into the park on the day of arrival. The sounds of the night are haunting. The loons make primeval calls that echo through the valleys. You hear the ‘barking’ sounds of the bears too. Even though the park opens at 6 AM, people line up at the entrance to get the limited day parking spaces available at the lots. When I arrived at the gate, there were already cars lined up at the gate at 4 AM. Nature’s groupies and nuts waiting in cars.

On my 2nd hike, I decided to explore the east face of the mountain and picked a set of different trails. helen traylor and chimney pond, and knife’s edge. The helen traylor, chimney pond trails were the standard beautiful black diamond trails you know. Boulders, streams, plateaus, hemlock and birch lined forests. My body was sore all over, especially the upper body from all the climbing on the previous day. beautiful katahdin revealed without her shroud of clouds. The clouds were held by the other mountains in the range… and as you hiked, you could actually see the tops of low lying clouds till the horizon. I felt I was hiking a different mountain from the previous day. step after step till I came upon the great ridge of katahdin.

This time, Katahdin didn’t disappoint. It’s the highest peak in New England, with 360 degree panoramic views. From the top is a trail called knife edge with a big red warning sign saying people with heart trouble should not hike it (some people have succumbed to cardiac arrest up there, others stumbled on wet rocks). Throwing caution to the wind, I hiked the trail in my sneakers. It is a rocky narrow spine with vertical drops on either side, hence the knife edge name. The wind howls at that high altitude. I could feel my heart pumping. One bad step, and I would be finished. Crawling on the edge, there is no time for ego.. just thoughts of survival.. taking one step at a time. This is how I ideally lead my life.. not thinking too much, just doing... In awe of beauty, on the edge, exploring new places and confronting new experiences.

Knife’s edge
Jagged rocks like the teeth of a spine,
Enter all thouse crazy enough for the climb,
Hold on tight,
With all your might,
Or else the winds will take you to flight.
And you’ll fall off the mountain,
With death nearly certain
On the side of katahdin.

When I got back to the summit I saw several people cry emotionally. They had just finished their 2200 mile journey from Georgia to Maine. Katahdin is the terminus of the Appalachian trail. They had pushed themselves to the edge and let their emotions out.

Baxter Peak
I meet you again Baxter Peak,
But now the weather is not so bleak,
At 5200 feet,
It’s quite a feat
To complete.
And thus ends our tale,
At the terminus of the Appalachian trail.

Returning to civilization I ended creating bad poetry in my head to keep my mind off my sore muscles.

Katahdin Base at Roaring Brook
I’m running out of lines,
Which I can force to rhyme,
But luckily I made it to the base
And can save face
By ending this now
Like a fat dairy cow.

Katahdin - The Greatest Mountain in Penoscot  Indian Language

Knife's Edge

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