Maine...Part Two
My rest day in Rangely, better weather and better trails would make the middle section of Maine much more enjoyable. The weather settled into a something more like summer than fall and it would stay that way through to the end. The first mountain out of Rangley was Saddleback, this was my favorite mountain in Maine until I climbed Katahdin. A long but relatively gentle climb carries hikers to a three or four mile stretch of above treeline hiking across several beautiful peaks.
After Saddleback were Spaulding and Sugarloaf mountains, these peaks were equally tough but had almost no views from the top due to the trail skirting their peaks. The descent to the Carrabasset River offered the most scenery and yet another stretch of sketchy rock scrambling.
After a brief stop for lunch and resupply in Stratton the trail carried me steeply up Mount Bigelow, the last set of four thousand foot peaks until Katahdin. This didn't mean it was a cake walk from here out, there were still a number of good sized mountains in front of me but this was the last in a long series of punishing mountains that had started at the southern end of the Whites. I camped at Horns Pond leaving me just below the summit ridge. The next morning I would hike up through a cloud and eventually get completely above it on West Peak. From here I was able to watch fog from Flagstaff Lake climb the ridge and dissipate as it was blown across the saddle.
Once up on the ridge the skies were clear offering wonderful views of the surrounding peaks and Flagstaff Lake. The final big peak of the ridge was Avery, named in honor of Myron Avery who lead the efforts to extend the Appalachian Trail through Maine to Katahdin.
From Avery Peak the trail enters a long descent to Flagstaff Lake, in keeping true to its roots the trail climbs over Little Bigelow mountain in the process of descending. The descent winds through wild pine forests littered with a jumble of moss covered boulders with numerous small caves and ledges. That night I would camp at the shore of Flagstaff Lake, the first of many campsites near large lakes. Surrounded by mountains that were touched with fall colors, this cold and brilliantly clear lake seemed like something out of a tourist guide to Maine. This feeling was only heightended in the morning as fog hung over the lake and a pair of loons floated quitely across the completely still water.
The miles after Flagstaff Lake were blissfully flat and mostly smooth, a welcome break from the beating the trail had been handing out since I started Maine. It was an easy cruise through lush woodlands past several lakes to the Kennebec River and the small town of Caratunk. This is a unique crossing for the AT, instead of a footbridge or a ford there is a daily ferry to carry hikers across. Just upstream from the trail crossing is a large dam which releases water on a daily basis dramatically changing the depth of the river making fording the river a dangerous proposition. The trail conservancy has been offering this free ferry to ensure the safety of hikers and even has gone so far as to paint a white blaze in the boat to make it "official".
After passing through Caratunk it was only a few more days until Monson. The trail continued to be mostly in lush woods with a few more small peaks scattered among them. Moxie Bald was a beautiful peak was sweeping views in all directions. Monson was my last zero day on the trail and I enjoyed a long day of lazing around the Lakeshore House conveniently located next to a gorgeous lake and above a great restaurant. After this zero I would enter the 100 Mile Wilderness, a stretch of trail with no towns or resupply and also the last stretch of trail before Baxter State Park and Katahdin.
