~*~ Mount Katahdin, Maine ~*~

“Making Momma Our Bitch”

Date: June 11, 2007

Mileage: 9’ish

We woke up at 5:00am on Monday morning and quickly packed up all of our stuff. Thankfully, we had gotten everything ready the night before so we didn’t have a lot to do in the morning. By 5:30, we were on the road and head for Baxter State Park. It’s about 20 miles into the park from Millinocket but it’s a nice little drive and occasionally you get a really nice view of Katahdin standing tall against the sky. We got to the Ranger Station, paid for our day pass and were informed it’s not the “Helen Taylor” Trail…it’s the Hee-lon Taylor Trail. We supposed it wasn’t the Helen Keller Trail either. She did ask if I had any dogs and I said “only him” to which she immediately asked if he was well trained. Humor at 6:15am is a beautiful thing. The 8 miles to the trailhead was along a beautiful dirt road. Once there, we put on our boots and geared up.

I should say that I had been really concerned about weather for the week…particularly with Katahdin and Washington. Trails can be closed in an instant and we would have been stuck without a peak to bag. Brad was less concerned saying the weather didn’t matter, but it did a little to me. I still can not believe how lucky we were. Registering at the office, at 6:45am, we had a Class I Day with a slight possibility of thunderstorms in the afternoon. We could not have asked for more beautiful weather than what we had.

Helen Taylor led us up through the woods, and while we were climbing, it didn’t seem to be very strenuous for the most part. When we finally broke out of the trees, we had some great clear views of the surrounding areas. It’s strange how large Katahdin is in comparison to the rest of the landscape. From looking at A.T. maps, I know it’s huge, but to see it in person and really understand it is another story altogether. I can only imagine how ominous it would be in foul weather.

From tree line, we could see the ridge that let up to a summit. Not being completely certain, we thought that it was Knife Edge and were a little bit unimpressed by what we thought would have been much tougher. As we made our way up the ridge, Brad started to get his first taste of true New England hiking. You know what I’m talking about…where the blazes just seem to be painted in a straight line and the trailblazers had no intention or concern with making it easy for you. Big pile of rocks in the middle of the trail? You are going up and over them…not around. He kept saying “this is not a trail.”” Oh yes, my naïve little Westerner, it is. Welcome to New England. At one point on the ridge, we stopped for some snacks and water. A couple passed us decked out in The Northface Gear…they were dubbed TNF Summit Team while we were clearly the Mountain Hardwear Summit Team.

After the break, we continued up the ridge still enjoying the views in every direction. A huge rock face loomed just to the right of the ridge we were on and made for a spectacular view against the blue sky. I find Katahdin to be a very majestic mountain in so many ways. We passed TNF Team and were soon enough approaching a summit. Since we hadn’t looked at a map all day (shocking if you know us at all), we weren’t really sure if this was the actual summit of Momma K or not. I let Brad lead the way, for reasons I will explain later. As it turns out, it was Pamola Peak and a real eye opener. From the top of Pamola, you can clearly see the 1.1 miles of Knife Edge winding around to the West and carrying you up to Mt. Katahdin. That rock face that we had been ogling on the ridge was Knife Edge. And suddenly, it was clear how it got it’s name. TNF Team caught us on the summit again and we all took a little break. They left about 15 minutes before we did to head for Momma K.

From Pamola, the hike got fun. The wind up there whips like crazy and sounds like a freight train coming through. We had lost sight of TNF Team and wondered where they could have gone because we could see the trail and finally some other climbers making there way up some pretty decent rock scrambles. About 50 yards from Pamola, the trail just drops. I don’t mean it descends a little, I mean it drops. Straight down with some hairy “scrambling”. The kind where you reach with your legs and just pray you get a good foothold to stabilize yourself so you don’t tumble down the 50 feet and hit rock. It was clear why TNF team had taken so long, you simply can not move fast over this type of terrain. A deep “V” created a good 30 minutes of fun because once you made it down, you immediately had to go straight up on the other side. Climbing up, not scrambling, climbing.

The entire mile of Knife Edge was exhausting physically and mentally. The wind is so loud and so strong that at times it will catch your pack and send you a little off balance. When you are perched on a 6 inch wide piece of rock, with death to your left and right it can be a bit unnerving at best. More than once, I found myself sitting on my butt and scooting my way across or down something. We put our trekking poles away back at the ‘V” because there was just no point. You need to use both hands to steady yourself and be able to grab the rock and either pull or lower your body. I was cursing Brad and his long legs that made it easier to reach. However, he said that having big feet is a problem too because finding a foothold is more difficult. He was glad to be wearing trail runners to offer some flexibility on the rocks. I had opted to wear my all leather boots, and was glad to have those for support.

We passed several people on the trail, one couple in particular just looked miserable. At least, the woman did. I can pretty much guarantee you that her bf/husband/whoever would be catching hell that night. We had to wait 10 minutes for her to move because she was sitting straddling the “trail” and seemed to be a little scared to move. Finally her man came back and helped her. On any other trail, you could pass them but not on this one. Suddenly it just sort of evens itself out. The trail becomes much easier and the scrambling dies down. When you look back over your shoulder, it’s amazing to think you just hiked over what you are looking it. It truly looks terrifying and I understand why hiking it in anything but the stellar weather we were having would be just wrong.

The last .1 mile is a cake walk in comparison. I slowed a little before the summit, telling Brad to lead on. His first peak of New England, he should be there first. Plus, I had some reservations about being on Momma K to begin with. I knew it would be a hard mental journey because I always thought my first time on Mt. K would be the end of a NOBO thru-hike. The closer we got to the summit, the harder it got. I was happy to watch Brad take off like a shot and fly up to the summit while I held back and took a couple of pictures. I took my time, I picked up a rock to place on the giant cairn, I looked around and took it all in. I was okay until I saw the famous Katahdin sign and that white blaze. I took a few minutes by myself to let it process, to look at the white blazes coming up the Western ridge and to just cry. It hurt a little inside to be there, but at the same time, I was glad to be there. When I finally composed myself enough, I joined Brad who had thoughtfully found a place to sit where I couldn’t see the sign, a blaze, or anything but nice view of Chimney Pond. That meant a lot.

We spent a good hour on the summit just relaxing, snacking and taking pictures. It’s a beautiful place that to me signifies the beginning and end of a lot of dreams. As hard as it was to be there, it was easy to be there with Brad. What was suppose to be a mountain I would conquer by myself at the end of a 2100 mile journey, now signified the start of something else. It was bittersweet but I have no regrets and would do it again in a heartbeat. Silly enough…I just didn’t go near the sign or the blazes. I’ll be back someday.

Per the Ranger’s suggestions, we decided to take the Saddle Trail back down to Chimney Pond and go out that way. It had taken almost 2 hours to do the 1.1 miles of Knife Edge and there was no way in hell we were going back that way. So we began our descent off Momma K and made our way through the alpine area into the saddle. We kept looking at the sky and the weather, but those thunderstorms never arrived. Once off the summit and a ways down into the saddle, the trail makes a sharp right and just drops straight down. It definitely doesn’t look like a trail, more like a rock slide and scree field, really. Brad just kind of rolled his eyes and said “are you kidding?” Sure enough, blue blazes lined the side of the “trail” and that was the way we were headed. it was steep and dusty with a lot of loose rock so watching your step and taking it easy is the only way to do it.

We passed a small patch of snow which of course meant a snowball was going to fly…which also meant I got snow down my shirt…which didn’t melt completely for about 10 minutes. It was cold on my back and just about as obnoxious when it finally dripped down my back and into my shorts. BRRRRR. We were treated to views of Katahdin and Knife Edge from the Eastern side of the mountain, which was really interesting. Far and away, it was the toughest hike I have ever done in terms of being so physically and mentally challenging.

At Chimney Pond Camp, we signed into the register and chatted briefly with the Ranger who was there. He asked us questions about the Saddle Trail and it’s condition which we happily answered. He also gave us an update on the weather, which obviously, was fantastic. But thanks for telling us! The last 2-3 miles from Chimney Pond were easy and painless, especially in comparison to what we had already accomplished. Though the last ½ mile did seem to take forever. We both got delusional at one point, thinking we saw the ranger station which turned out to be a bridge spanning over something. Ugh!

Finally, we made it out, signed the register indicating as much and headed for the car. See…the car had a cooler in it and we knew there were some ice cold beers inside. Hell yeah…those were the best beers ever. We jammed ourselves in the car to escape the bugs that were swarming en masse and guzzled down a beer, toasting to making Momma K our bitch.

Finally, we were off to Skowhegan, ME where we would be spending the night. We stopped in Bangor (Bang-OR…not Bang-HER, Brad) at a great truck stop to have some dinner. The waitress told Brad that as soon as we were ready, she would bring him his “slap” which I think really scared him. Who knew people in Maine could be so rough?!? After playing total touron, buying a $7 tee-shirt and taking a picture outside of the truck stop, we gassed up the car and hit the road. We arrived in Skowhegan at Two Rivers Campground right about 8pm, checked in, set up the tent, showered, and pretty much decided to call it a day by that point. It had been a long day with an ass-kicking hike and a few hours of driving. I had forgotten to tell Brad to get some “A.S.S.” though so muscles were a little tight by the time we were done with the shower. Some rednecks pulled in at the next site which momentarily scared us, but they were pretty quiet. We had a beer, Brad broke my cooler, and crawled into the tent when the rain started to come down slightly. We have another early morning, some driving and then we’ll be hiking Mt. Washington tomorrow so I think we need some sleep for that!

Sleep came easy…eventually.

Click here to see all of our pictures from Maine.

On to Mt. Washington, NH…

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