During one of my several trips to the bushes through the night, I had a surprise waiting for me as I crawled back into my sleeping bag (after reinflating the mattress of course). I felt something hard against my back. I reached for the object, and recognized by feel that it was my missing knife. How it had found its way into the sleeping bag, and how I’d missed it the night before. I’m not sure, but I fell back asleep happy.
The start of the day was a steady climb up Pleasant Pond Mountain, with many of the upper sections on moderately sloped solid rock. In some areas it was a two foot wide strip of rock surrounded by the thin six inches of topsoil, moss and roots that make up the base of the alpine forest, in others just wide areas of exposed rock, with often good views. I really liked that hiking because it’s pretty, the alpine forest smells nice, and because the rock is pretty even you can move quickly without having to worry about where every step lands. Paths of roots or rocks are much more mentally challenging.
It turned out that my hostel was only 27 miles from today’s starting point, so I could have bought just two days of resupply instead of three. I wanted to push fairly far today so that I would arrive at the hostel in early afternoon, so that there would be time to go into town, shop etc. Luckily the trail was easy, with gentle slopes, just one other mountain to climb after the first one, and not too many root tangles or rock jumbles.
I am still meeting SOBOs. Today I met Fireball, who is part of a group called the sandals club, as they are all hiking in sandals, and Van , who kind of looks like the painter. I met Van Gogh at the shore of the Piscataquis river, where he and his dog, a boxer named Riley, were resting after having forded the river. He is technically a flip-flop. He hiked north as far as northern Virginia, but found it was getting unbearably hot so flipped up to Katahdin. He pointed me to the right place to ford. I took off my shoes and socks, removed my insoles, put my insoles and socks in the outside pocket of my pack, and put the shoes on to cross. It’s way more work this way but it’s the difference between soaking wet feet and damp feet. He told me there was another river ford tomorrow, and at least a couple in the hundred mile wilderness.
Soon after crossing I started looking for a flat spot to stealth camp, as the nearest official spot was several miles north. I found an okay spot near the river. I can’t see it but I can hear it gurgling. Once again I fried up the day’s harvest of chanterelles, about a cup full, and mixed them with the daily noodle ration.
Mile 2052.2 to mile 2071.3 = 19.1 miles
