Dispatch from Gorham: City of Rest

"Oh yeah. The next ten miles are easy. You guys will have no problem. It's all downhill."

Here is a little tip for you. If a skinny guy with a beard ever says something like this, and you happen to be standing in southern Maine, do not, repeat, DO NOT believe him. There is no such thing as an easy mile in southern Maine.

Period.

Anyway.

I'm in New Hampshire! Yes! Two hundred and eighty miles after summiting Mount Katahdin, I crossed the state line. It was a wonderful experience walking past that little sign and knowing that my feet, aided by a prodigious amount of snickers bars and ramen noodles, carried me out of one state and in to another.

The last week was the most difficult week, physically speaking, of my life. Huge climbs, huge descents, over and over again. Wake up, climb mountains, go down the other side. Lather, rinse, repeat. And don't be fooled in to thinking that down is easier to up, because most of the time it's actually harder. Gravity plus a pack plus slick granite equalls falling down a mountain.

But the views? Oh man. Worth it in every sense of the word. In some ways I am actually sad to be out of Maine, because there is a wildness and rugedness to this place that is unlike anything I have ever seen.

Did I mention I saw another moose last night? I went down to a pond to collect some water for my dinner. I look up and there is a moose, standing chest deep in the water, pausing halfway through a mouthful of pond scum to check me out.

The moose and I regarded each other with somewhat similar expressions of surprise and befuldelment, then she went on with her dinner and I went on with mine. It was a sublime moment, in so much as the word sublime can be used to describe a wild mountain cow.

Speaking of moose, I really think that mankind missed out on a huge opportunity by failing to domesticate these awesome creatures. I can't tell you the amount of times I've been skidding down a slick granite face, barely in control of myself, and thought "I wish I was riding a moose right now." We don't really have a domesticated animal that specilizes in that kind of terrain. I say again-huge loss.

I can't be the only one who thinks such things. I'll ask around on the trail.

More posts tomorrow as I take my first zero day since July 3rd. It seems strange to think about NOT walking tomorrow. We'll see what it feels like. Tonight I am clean, well fed, and headed for a soft bed.

--Happy Trails
Pawn