Day 1, Katahdin Stream to Katahdin Stream

 

Miles- 6.8

5:45 am, Millinocket, Maine. The day was turning into a moody, rainy day with little visibility. We made the hour drive to Baxter State Park with Nick’s dad at the wheel. The rangers heading into the park were very thorough to check us in and wished us well on our way after a $20 exchange through the kiosk.

Nick’s folks dropped us near the ranger station at Katahdin Stream Campground and we puttered around looking to register for our summit. After locating the early shift ranger, he got us a couple of permits to hike. We were permit numbers 19 and 20. After saying our final goodbyes to mom and dad, we were off at 8:57 am.

Smiles just after registering

The stoke was high and we cruised for the first mile. We threw on our ponchos as the rain was picking up. After another five minutes, we shed some fleece layers because we were moving so quickly. We made it to Katahdin Stream falls, 1.2 miles in, and things started to drastically slow down.

We crossed paths with quite a few hikers on their way back down who said they didn’t make it to the summit because of the cold and intensity of the winds. We had just summited Mt Marcy in New York the year prior and spent our off days training, so we weren’t too concerned. Maybe these hikers weren’t conditioned yet. We had to get to the northern terminus, I needed to get to the summit for my birthday. 

We had passed about six total hikers who had bailed by the time we broke tree line. As we ascended, the rain and the winds were picking up. The summit forecast was a windchill of 19 degrees and I was still just in my tiny biker shorts. We were moving quickly so I had a warm core but I needed to throw on more layers soon. 

Nick dropped two of his water bottles as we were squeezing in between boulders. Just as this was happening, an angel named Kayla passed us by and got herself beneath a low hanging boulder, belly crawling, to grab them. She actually made it to the summit and was on her way down.

Our dinky Frogg Toggs ponchos were turning into parasails as the winds picked up over exposed sketchy rock face. But we were still persisting on. 

Our hands were starting to become useless from the climbing up. So cold and beaten up from the granite rock face. My breathing was turning shaky and near hyper ventilating. I’d never experienced these respiratory symptoms before. We passed the two mile marker but I hadn’t noticed. Two-tenths of a mile beyond that we decided it was time to layer up. 

We found minor shelter between some boulders. In order to put pants on I had to take off my shoes, noticing how hard it was to use my hands to untie my laces I was beginning to worry. I threw on my fleece mid layer and it was immediately becoming soaked. The winds and rains were picking up. 

When we finally reconvened after suiting up and better securing our ponchos in separate boulder quarters, Nick asked, “are we dumb for doing this?” I replied, “yes, probably.” 

At that moment we had unanimously decided to call our summit attempt and head back down. 

Not only were we 1.8 miles from the summit as the weather was quickly worsening, we also had to travel back the same way we came. It can be more dangerous on the way down than up and our limbs were becoming more and more unusable with every boulder touch. 

The relief was tangible and we waddled back, still being pelted by the strong winds and rain. As we were approaching the lesser exposed rocks, we came across another thruhiker who was just making the decision to retreat. We commiserated for moment before we kept moving to stay warm. 

After breaking tree line and hopping down some boulders without the windy rain, there were two men paused in the middle of trail. We greeted them and asked if they were still heading up. One of the guys replied saying that they were heading back down and that his friend was just coming to after having a seizure. We asked if they needed anything or how we could help and they just asked that we talk to the rangers once we were down. The man that had a seizure was still very disoriented and slurring his words. But we now had a mission to deliver the news. So we got some information from them and made our way down the mountain. 

Nick and I had a few snacks in lieu of lunch and bonded over our decision to turn back. It’s going to be hard to have this incomplete thruhike lingering over our heads. We made it back to the trail register at 12:37 pm, but it felt like we were up there for hours longer. 

We arrive at the ranger station to inform them of the man that had a seizure. Our mission was accomplished and the news had been passed on. We found our reserved campsite, #24.

By the time we got settled and met up with some of the other soggy thruhikers, it was nearing 3 pm. We went over to some covered picnic tables, spread out our wet socks and ponchos, and Nick started to boil water for dinner. 

We had a delicious ramen and tuna dinner with some weird chili Mayo to add some calories. Finally some warmth to our hands from our dinner pots. As birthday hiking tradition holds true, Nick brought out the little shots he had packed away for us. We each had one, wretching a bit at the harshness of the liquor. Something else to keep us warm.

We retreated to our tent in the campground and had what might be the deepest sleep of the trail.

Looking back on the day’s events, I wish I would have chosen a rain jacket over a poncho. Rain pants would have offered another degree of success, as would gloves. I think we were so focused on the warm weather to come we underestimated the brutal nature of these northern mountains. We made the best decision that we could and as much as I would have loved to touch the northern terminus, sometimes Mother Nature reminds us to take a step back and not be too eager to hit these milestones.