Mud mud mud mud. Hopping between roots, rocks, and logs to avoid the mud. 14 miles of mud.
Stepping on roots and rocks all day kills the arches of your feet and your ankles. Muscles that I didn’t even know I had in my feet are sore.
Still, I got an amazing view of the lakes from the highway I just crossed. AND a couple there gave me a Angry Orchard hard cider to enjoy with the view.
I made it through the whole day hopping around the mud to keep my feet dry, and I was 100 yards from camp about to cross Bemis Stream. I was planning on taking off my shoes and fording it in my sandals, but a kind Nobo biker told me there was a big logjam where I could cross just downstream. I found it, excited to save some time changing out my shoes, happy for the tip, when WHAM – the log I’m stepping on breaks and sends my entire left leg into the stream. All that hopping around, and I still have wet shoes.
Wet, tired, muddy, and feet throbbing, I trudged into camp. Not the best ending to the day. But a passing Nobo suggests that I walk the 100 yards up the hill beyond the camp. Could it be? Trail magic way out here? I practically sprinted.
2 burgers, 2 hotdogs, 2 individually wrapped cakes (one vanilla, one strawberry), half of a big bag of chips, and a ginger ale. THE BEST TRAIL MAGIC EVER. I almost hugged the couple who had parked their car and set up a cookout on the gravel road behind the campsite (I didn’t – hikers limit greetings to fist bumps due to our all encompassing smell).
Snowman and Teddie live two hours away in Lewiston, ME, and they drive out here twice a week, every week, from July through September to surprise hikers with the most amazing trail magic I’ve seen so far. They have done it for the last four years and don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.
People are amazing.
Trails And Travels 