Appalachian Trail Adventure Day 4 (6/20/21)

West Carry Pond Lean To to Horns Pond Lean To 

17.9 Miles

I had some more weird trail dreams overnight, but I am okay with that, because having dreams means that I am sleeping. I have been sleeping better, but I have still sometimes had my sleep interrupted. For example, last night I woke up in the middle of the night hearing strange sounds. At first I thought it might have been coyotes howling in the distance, but then I realized that it was actually loons calling across West Carry Pond. One loon would start, and then all the rest would join in, and then the process would start again a few minutes later.

This shelter had one of the nicest privies that I have seen in a while. It was a moldering privy, which means that after you do your business you throw in a handful of wood shavings or mulch and that helps with decomposition. These are better than traditional pit privies because they don’t have to be re-dug and moved every few years, making them have a lower impact on the environment. 

When I planned this day out, I knew that it was going to be tough because it was almost eighteen miles over two four-thousand footers, but I didn’t account for just how much elevation gain it would be. Only when I calculated it later did I realize that it was six-thousand feet of elevation gain, which might well be the most that I have done in a day. The Bonds Traverse that I did back in 2018 may have been close; I am honestly not sure.

Not long into my day, I met two northbounders, an aunt and her nephew. I thought it was interesting, because they had the reverse of the normal story. Typically the younger relative is the one on the thru hike, and the older relative comes out to hike with them for a while. In this case, the aunt had already done 2000 miles of the trail, and her nephew was coming out to join her for the last 200 miles. They seemed like nice people, and I wish them well on the rest of their hike.

A couple miles later, I heard rustling in the woods. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I thought it might be something exciting like a moose or a bear. It was a large animal, but not a moose or a bear. Instead, it was two deer that came prancing across the path. I was pretty excited, so when I ran into a northbounder immediately afterwards, I asked if he had seen it. He said “Yeah,” and then gave me a look that said, “Who cares?” I suppose that after 2000 miles you feel like you have seen everything, but I still think it’s sad when you can’t appreciate the little things at all.

The next northbounder I met was clearly not that. He was an older hiker named 5 AM. He was called 5 AM because he is on trail every morning by 5 AM. I admire the dedication. I get up most mornings at 6 AM, and I am the first one up. I can’t imagine going even earlier. We chatted for a while, and 5 AM was an advice giver like I am. He let me know that I was coming up to a lake if I needed water.

Little did I know that the lake was the famous Flagstaff Lake. I have twice before climbed the Bigelows and looked down at the massive Flagstaff Lake from up high, but I had never seen it at eye level. It was cool to be able to look up and see the Bigelows from the shore of Flagstaff as opposed to the other way around.

Of course, seeing the Bigelows was one thing. Getting to them was something else entirely. I first had to hike around Flagstaff Lake, and then climb 2000’ up Little Bigelow. From there, I had to descend 800’ and then climb another 2000’ up to Avery Peak.

The first part, going up Little Bigelow, wasn’t too bad. In fact, at one point I hiked through a balsam fir forest, and given that balsam is one of my favorite smells in the world, I really enjoyed it. From there, I entered Safford Notch, which is the gap between Little Bigelow and Avery Peak. It was a cool place, both literally and figuratively. Safford Notch is a boulder field. The temperature dropped like 5 degrees once I entered. As I picked my way through, I saw Avery Peak looming in front of me. It blocked out most of the sky. I knew that it was going to be a challenging climb, and boy was I right.

There was nothing to do for it except climb, climb, and then climb some more. Everything was rocks, and for substantial portions of the climb I had to haul myself up them. There were some viewpoints, but I skipped them. The goal was the summit, and I needed to devote every ounce of energy towards that goal (although truthfully, despite what Bob Seger might say, I don’t think energy is measured in ounces).

I was so happy when I finally emerged onto the summit. This was a particularly meaningful hike for me because it was on Father’s Day. My father had always been the biggest fan on my hikes and the first to read my blog entries. He enjoyed living vicariously through my hiking, and I enjoyed sharing that with him. Well, my father passed away this past winter, and the last hike that I was able to share with him before he passed was my winter hike of the Bigelows. Thus, being on top of the Bigelows on Father’s Day seemed perfect and special. I will always miss being able to share my adventures with him, but I am glad my hiking brought him some pleasure late in his life when he couldn’t move around that well anymore.

Unfortunately, spiritual connections weren’t the only thing that I found on the Bigelows. I also found a snake on top of Bigelow West. It was the biggest snake that I have ever seen in Maine. I don’t know if it was poisonous or not, but I avoided it to be safe.

After summiting Bigelow West, I started down towards the shelter at Horns Pond. On the way, I found a Sawyer Squeeze water filter in a tree. I wasn’t sure what to do. If someone lost it, would they come back to the tree to look for it? Or would they look for it in a shelter or maybe a hostel? I am not sure why, but I decided to pick it up.

Lots of hard downhill rock climbing later, I finally arrived at Horns Pond Lean To, which is quite a place. It has three shelters, a day use and two overnight shelters. It also has tent sites galore. I met four southbounders who had been in front of me. One of them, Honeydew, asked if I had seen a Sawyer Squeeze. I told him that I had and handed it to him, and he was very grateful. Sometimes things just work out on trail. Hikers have a saying for this: the trail provides.

I was exhausted by this point, so I didn’t stay to chat long, which was fine because the four southbounders were leaving anyway. I went down to the pond to get water, and while I was there I met the caretaker, Becca, whose trail name is Bus Driver. Technically, she is a ridgerunner. The ridgerunners are kind of like the staff of the Appalachian Trail. They answer questions and run facilities.

Once I got water, I walked back up to the shelter that I was staying in. I was starving by this point, and I immediately cooked dinner, which was Peak Refuel Three Bean Chili Mac. It was fine, but not fantastic. I would eat it again, but it wouldn’t be my first choice.

For dessert, I had Packit Gourmet Strawberry Cheesecake, which is top quality hiker food. I owe my mother for getting me a bunch of those for my birthday this year. They really provide a nice end to a long hiking day.

After dessert, I went to get some more water, and I stopped by the caretaker tent to get some things clarified. I ended up in a long conversation, and Becca told me a few useful things. First off, there was no fee for that site, which is rare for a caretaker site. Second, they had almost no tick problems in northern Maine, which is quite a contrast to southern Maine, which is overrun with ticks. Third, she had good things to say about the Hostel of Maine, where I will be staying tomorrow. Eventually I let her go, as she was getting eaten alive by bugs as she was talking to me, and I didn’t want to prolong her misery.

I settled down for the night and wrote blog entries and listened to Stuff You Should Know before I went to bed. That brings us to the end of the blog entry, so as always, remember that you can’t take flight until you spread your wings.

And here are the flowers.