First Week on the Trail: 100-Mile Wilderness

Being a SOBOer is a bit unforgiving. You summit Katahdin and then bam, you’re in the 100-Mile Wilderness. For a NOBO hiker, the 100-Mile is no problem — they already have their trail legs and their packs down to size, but for a SOBOer, if you’re at all unprepared, you could be in for some serious trouble.

All that being said, the wilderness is not that wild. You will see other hikers, and if you do encounter a real emergency, you will more than likely be able to find help. However, if you overpack, your first week will be miserable.

So how did I handle the big, bad wilderness? It took me about six days to cross the entire thing. Here’s how I did it:

Day number, location, daily mileage, personal difficult rating

Day One:  Summit Katahdin, Katahdin Stream Campsite (10.4 mi) – Difficult
Day Two:  Hurd Brook Lean-to (13.4 mi) – Easy
Day Three: Wadleigh Stream Lean-to (19.6 mi) – Moderate
Day Four: Cooper Brook Falls Lean-to (21.5 mi) – Easy
Day Five: Sidney Tappan Campsite (17.1 mi) – Moderate
Day Six: Cloud Pond Lean-to (18.6 mi) – Difficult
Day Seven: Monson, ME (Shaw’s!) (19.1 mi) – Easy
Day Eight: Monson, Me (zero day!) – Very easy

Now let’s break this down:

Day One:  Summit Katahdin, Katahdin Stream Campsite (10.4 mi) – Difficult

I reviewed my Katahdin experience in an earlier post. To read more, check it out here.

Day Two:  Hurd Brook Lean-to (13.4 mi) – Easy

Hurd Brook Lean-to is the first lean-to you come to in the 100-Mile. Overall, this day was pretty flat and easy, but it was my first real day of hiking, so I was pretty pooped by the end of it. My legs ached from summiting Katahdin, and my shoulders were killing me from the weight of my pack, so I called it quits by 2 p.m. I set up camp and relaxed for the evening, chatting with NOBOs passing by (a quick shout-out to Snickerbear, Princess, and Paddington for their expert insights on the trail ahead).

If I could do it again: One regret I have from my first day is not eating at the restaurant just before you enter the wilderness. Just before you cross Abol Bridge, there is a restaurant on the right. This is your last opportunity for a real meal before you hit the woods, so take advantage of it. Many NOBOs pull a 30-mile day just to get there from the opposite direction, so I think it’s worth it.

Day Three: Wadleigh Stream Lean-to (19.6 mi) – Moderate

I look at my mileage for this day and still can’t figure out how I pulled this off. I am not a fast hiker by any means, but I do put in the hours. Nearly every day I was leaving by 6 a.m. and didn’t stop hiking until 6:30. I remember there was a pretty hefty climb toward the end of the day. I was also still figuring out my pack, and remember that my feet and shoulders hurt horribly by the time I quit. I also ended up being the only one at this shelter, which was pretty unnerving for my second night. Little did I know that just a mile down was a beautiful lakeside campsite overflowing with campers and trail magic, but after 19 miles, I wasn’t taking another step.

If I could do it again: I would not have stayed at the Wadleigh Stream Lean-to but at the Nahmakanta Lake campsites. They’re a bit farther but definitely worth it for the views. I also would have made sure to always have an extra supply of water. Toward the end of the day I was running low and had put all my faith in one spring. When I arrived there was no water, and it put me into a slight panic. Luckily there was more than enough water at the lean-to, but I quickly learned from this experience to always take advantage of several water sources throughout the day.

Day Four: Cooper Brook Falls Lean-to (21.5 mi) – Easy

Hikers will tell you to never trust someone when they say that the trail is flat, but this day’s hike was truly flat (that’s the only reason I was able to crank out such a high mileage). I started the day early and was pretty exhausted by the time I got to the lean-to. My exhaustion quickly turned into awe, however, as I rolled up to the shelter.

Cooper Brook Falls Lean-to is like the Ritz of lean-tos (in my very limited experience). There was a waterfall and a huge swimming area. I quickly shed my clothes and bathed for the first time since starting the trail. It was magical. A small group of NOBOs showed up shortly after and joined. When we got out of the pool, however, one of the other hikers found a leech on her foot (ughh), but the worst part was when she tried to take it off, it literally started spawning baby leeches that quickly spread across her foot. The wilderness is wild, man. Maybe I’ve just turned you off of the Cooper Brook Falls, but I really think it’s worth a shout. Regardless, with leeches in mind, you should take caution up here, especially when immersing your foot in sand or mud.

Day Five: Sidney Tappan Campsite (17.1 mi) – Moderate

Ah. I remember this morning well. The morning’s terrain wasn’t bad at all. I hiked about three miles to Kokadjo-B Pond Road, where I waited for about 4.5 hours for a food drop that never came. It was a total misunderstanding on my part, but I was a bit irked that I had wasted the whole morning sitting on a rock. I shouldn’t say wasted because I ended up meeting several wonderful hikers as well as a Czech woman who gave me a free beer to ease my wait (9 a.m. isn’t too early to crack open a Bud, right?). Around noon I started hiking again with the intention of getting to Logan Brook Lean-to (as a novice hiker, I had packed way too much food, so I didn’t really need the food drop anyway). It was supposed to rain, so I was going pretty quickly and ended up running into this other girl heading south. She was a NOBO-turned-SOBO. Basically, she had to tie up some loose miles she’d missed earlier in her trek and was on the verge of completing her thru-hike. We hiked that afternoon together, arriving at Logan Brook Lean-to around 5. We could have and probably should have stopped. The trail ahead was pretty rough and the weather was quickly turning bad, but when we arrived at the shelter, we were greeted by a hiker who I’d been warned about earlier in the day. I know that hiker-on-hiker incidents are extremely rare, but I had heard several uneasy accounts of this specific guy — probably innocent and un-threatening — but we decided not to find out. We kept hiking, crossing over White Cap Mountain in the rain. We camped at Sidney Tappan that night, which actually ended up being the perfect place to stop because it broke up the big 100-Mile Wilderness mountains: White Cap Mountain and Chairback Gap.

If I could do it again: I would definitely plan on getting to the Sidney Tappan Campsite if not the Carl A. Newhall Lean-to from the beginning. It was so nice splitting up those two climbs over two days. I also lost nearly all of my morning waiting on my food drop, so I wish I’d been more proactive and specific about the logistics from the get-go.

Day Six: Cloud Pond Lean-to (18.6 mi) – Difficult

Wow. I am so glad that I split up these two mountains because I was exhausted after Chairback Gap. As a SOBO, you will have a short scramble (not too different from the one you experienced on Katahdin) up to the top. The only differences are that: 1) you have your full pack and 2) luckily, it’s a whole lot shorter. I think it only took me ten minutes in total to scramble up, though it felt like 30.

Tip: When climbing rocks, make sure your backpack is always nice and snug. I found that my arm straps were a bit loose, which made for some dangerous climbing. Basically, as soon as I would hop up onto a rock, my feet and body would make it and then half a second later my pack would too, meaning I’d get an extra push. That extra push was usually enough to set me off-kilter and nearly off a cliff. So be careful.

As we pushed into the afternoon, the weather turned sour again, only this time it wasn’t just rain. We had full-on thunderstorms. Do you know what to do when you’re hiking and a thunderstorm hits? Because I sure didn’t. I basically started running (not what you should do), in an attempt to make it to the shelter before the storm hit. Spoiler alert: I didn’t make it and ended up getting caught on a mountain face, wielding trekking poles, on the verge of tears. So let’s rewind for a second. Based on my thorough post-thunderstorm research, if you ever get caught in the middle of a thunderstorm while hiking, the first thing you wanna do is ditch your poles and pack (assuming your pack has metal in it). Those things are like lightning rods just begging for a bolt of electricity to come down from the heavens and smite them. Secondly, you should find some form of shelter, squat down, cover your head with your arms, and wait for the storm to pass. All good things to know. Learn from my mistakes.

Since you are reading this, you can probably guess that I survived the storm, though I did rock up to the shelter a bit shaken. Again, however, all my reservations melted away when I arrived. The Cloud Pond shelter is .4 off the trail, which might deter you from stopping by,  but I strongly urge you to consider it if you have the time. The lake is so beautiful and peaceful. It was the perfect place to reflect upon my week in the wilderness and prepare for the last day’s trudge into Monson.

Day Seven: Monson, ME (Shaw’s!) (19.1 mi) – Easy

Today’s hike felt like a victory lap! The weather was great and the terrain was extremely tame, although I did have to ford three rivers.

A short anecdote and a note about fording: I highly recommend looking up tips for fording rivers before beginning your hike. While most rivers are pretty calm, there are some trickier ones, and making a mistake could have irreversible consequences. Take me, for example. When I came to the first river crossing of the day, Long Pond Stream, I made quite a few mistakes. Firstly, the word “stream” may give off a rather nonthreatening and innocuous feel, but do not be fooled. Even streams can have strong currents, as I discovered the hard way. Before crossing, most people change out of their hiking shoes into Crocs or sandals so as not to hike in wet boots. Smart, but in my attempt to pack lightly, I’d only packed a pair of slip on sandals (e.g., sandals without a back strap). That was mistake number one. The second mistake I made was not unbuckling my pack and releasing my hands from my hiking poles before entering the water. And finally, I made the total novice error of entering the stream perpendicular to the current. I didn’t know much about stream crossing and the water was only halfway up my calves at its deepest point, so I figured that if I just walked slowly and carefully, using my poles to support me, I’d make it in one piece.

With my second step I slipped, lost a sandal, and came crashing down into the creek. My pack was immersed, my sandals and boots (which I’d stupidly been holding) were whisked away downstream, and I was left splashing around trying to grab them, ultimately getting everything else wetter and putting myself in more danger. I managed to scramble (that sounds so much more graceful than it actually was) downstream where I secured one boot and sandal. Their partners were nowhere to be seen, so I stood up in the river, drenched, and slowly made my way to the other side defeatedly. I put on my remaining boot and then tried on the sandal. Both were for my left foot. Brilliant. At least I now had the outfit to match the compete idiot I was. I still had a good ten miles to go, too, and I knew that this one sandal would probably be just as good at hiking as it had been at creek crossing. I was about to begin trekking when I decided to have one last look around. I walked up and down the bank, squinting at every rock and rapid. (It was really sunny that day, and the sun’s reflection made it all the more difficult to see). I sighed and turned to leave when I saw it. My other boot! It was stuck, wedged right between two rocks in the middle of what was probably the most powerful rapids on the stream. Based on previous brilliant decisions already described in this missive, you can probably guess what I did: I went in for the boot. This time, however, I strategized. I ditched my pack and stayed low as I entered, facing the current. I moved slowly, trying to keep one hand on a rock and the other on my trekking pole. I rescued the boot without incident and upon my return, took a few minutes to bask on the rocks in celebration. The flip flop was gone, but that might have been for the best. Those things were crap, and I ended up buying Crocs later that day and tossing the other flip flop.

The rest of the day was quite uneventful. I successfully forded two more rivers and had a wonderful hike. Toward the end, I passed this exceptional waterfall that I regret not stopping at but ended up getting to Route 15 around 6 p.m. I hitched into Monson (my first hitch!) and checked into Shaw’s Hiker Hostel. I promptly made my way to Lake Shore House, where I had my first warm meal in six days. It also happened to be Open Mic night, and it seemed like the entire town had shown up to perform, making for a wonderful evening of live music and dance. By 9, I was in back at Shaw’s ready for bed, exhausted but with a full and happy belly and the intoxicating feeling of having just finished my first week on the trail.

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