"How I Spent my Columbus Day Weekend" by Little Natie Bushwhacker

[Nate]

Big Spencer, October 7, 2006

The spirit of Whackfest Tree lives on as I returned to the Moosehead Lake area during Columbus Day Weekend to hike some 3k’s I originally hoped to bag over Labor Day Weekend. First up was Big Spencer, a peak I meant to bag the same day I visited Little Spencer and the southwest peak of Big Spencer, but had ended up running out of time first. Well, better to have Big Spencer left to claim rather than Southwest.

I had a late start that Friday night heading up to Maine, so I was only able to get as far as a rest area near Burnham before I had to pull over for the night. I had hoped to get a little further north before stopping, since the next morning I had to contend with all the slow leaf peeping traffic passing through the Newport-Dexter corridor. I was originally shooting to get in a second hike that day (something along the lines of Little Kineo or No. 4), but due to not hitting Greenville until about noon, this was put very much into jeopardy. Regardless, Big Spencer was the main objective, so I headed straight to that trail head.

The dirt roads north of Kokadjo were in good shape all the way up to the Sias Hill gate, but after that were fairly potholed. I guess that stretch hadn’t been graded in awhile. Making that left onto the final stretch of road, judging from the conditions I found, it didn’t appear that that section of road was actively maintained any more, but was still very drivable. As I cautiously made my way along, Big Spencer rose ever taller from the flatlands in front of me. Even though this peak is fairly well into the wilderness, imagine my surprise to find three other vehicles already parked at the start of the trail. At least this meant I didn’t have to search around for the trailhead. Plus, I guess it was no wonder I’d have company, since it was a gorgeous autumn afternoon, with stunningly clear skies.

I had an uneventful hike up to the fire tower. Since my hiking boots are still new, I opted with sneakers for this hike, so that I wouldn’t inflict blisters on myself so early into the big weekend. After all, it’s not like it be would be a very long opening bushwhack. Anyway, after snapping the obligatory pictures from the open lower peak, it was time to get down to business.

While the mountain’s true high point is 0.3 from the fire tower, by following the paths out to the last equipment building, the bushwhack can be cut down to 0.25. As I departed the last vestiges of civilization, the going was initially thick, but thanks to Papa Bear’s sage advice, I knew there was (relatively) less dense stuff on the north side of the ridge. Indeed, by picking my spots, I found the going to not be as bad as I expected, as I maneuvered past some unimportant summit bumps and wound my way over to the true high point. Having studied the lay of the land before heading in for the bushwhack, I had a good sense of where the high peak was, and it was simply a matter of heading over there and following the contour up, and thus really didn’t have too much trouble locating the canister.

Once there, before signing in, I walked a few steps past the jar to an outlook to the east, which looked over to the fire tower peak and on to Katahdin. While taking some pictures there, I started to hear something crashing through the underbrush just off the summit bump. Thinking it was a moose, I stood still and listened to it gradually draw closer. Once the beast crashed into view, I discovered it wasn’t a moose at all, but a fellow bushwhacker! I was suddenly reminded of Erik Schlimmer’s register entry from West Caribou, where he wrote about how the world’s population has grown by a few billion people since he graduated high school, but that he had never expected to run into two people on that remote peak. I was starting to feel the same sentiment. Nevertheless, if ever one was to bump into someone else on a bushwhack peak, it would be on a day like that Saturday, and thus I had the pleasure of meeting michael, a fellow VFTTer. Obviously we had a great deal to talk about, as I put more register pages into the canister and signed in.

Walking back together to the end of the trail, the going was a little slower, as we encountered more thick spots than I had on the out trip. Plus, we passed over some minor summit bumps, all of which dropped off steeply to the east, so these minor drop-offs had to be negotiated as well. Nevertheless, it’s still a short bushwhack, and soon enough we were popping out of the woods behind the largest communications building on the open summit. Although this meant we overshot the structure closest to the true high point, oh well. The peak was still conquered.

We didn’t dally too long at the fire tower, and were soon descending the trail. Since Michael hikes at about the same pace I do, we zipped along down to the cars. There, after some additional words, we parted ways, as he headed back to civilization, and I off to the Bakers.

 

[Nate]

Three Bakers, No Cookies

South Baker, Middle Baker, and Baker, October 8, 2006

Having not hiked since Labor Day Weekend (darn car problems) it was a real confidence booster to have had such a straightforward bushwhack on Big Spencer. Since that hike didn’t end in time to squeeze in another one that afternoon, I drove back through Kokadjo and down to Beaver Cove. Thanks to Onestep, Mhrsebago, and JimC I knew that the turn for the Bakers was at the unsigned dirt road that has a small yellow, snowmobile trail-sized sign that points to the B-52 memorial that lies down that way. In “North Woods Walks” Christopher Keene calls this Prong Pond Road, but it is unnamed in the Delorme atlas (it’s basically the road that leads off from the Kokadjo road and approaches Prong Pond Mountain from the west). According to the literature at the local state park, it’s 1.6 miles south of the Lily Bay SP front gate. In years past, I think this might have been a rough road, but due to the B-52 memorial the state or some other entity now maintains it all the way to Elephant Mountain. But, since I was doing the Bakers, I was only on Prong Pond Road for 1.7 miles before turning left onto a slightly rougher logging road. At the time, I was initially unsure if this was the correct turn, but it’s the only (relatively) major logging road going off to the left before Prong Pond Road reaches Prong Pond Mountain and starts to pass over its lower right shoulder. Due to the current logging activity in the area, the logging road that provides access is in drivable shape, as it skirts the northern perimeter of Prong Pond Mountain and then goes on to the Bakers. However, care should be taken, since there are some menacing rocks that drivers of lower cars should watch out for. En route to the Bakers, the road passes through some intersections. In all cases, it is the more major road, and when it encounters an equal, it is the road that continues straight ahead. This logging road gets within a mile of South Baker before it reaches a logging yard and ceases being drivable by regular cars. Since this was close enough, and with the day now too late to do anything else, I simply parked for the night, at the foot of South Baker. During the night, the bright full moon kept the next day’s target fully illuminated.

The next morning, I was in the midst of doing my business at the edge of the clearing, and I heard a rustling in the woods not far beyond sight. Since the area is actively logged and probably frequently visited by hunters and the like, imagine my relief to see the shadowy creature was merely a moose, as it paused at the edge of the woods across the road from me. It stood there silently, sizing me up, then silently retreated from sight. I heard nothing for a long moment or two, then the crashing commenced on my side of the road, which climaxed with the moose materializing in the slashed out woods to my right. About fifty yards from me, it stopped and stared at me for a moment, then continued on its merry way across the slash and into the woods. Thus concluded my token moose sighting for the weekend.

Anyhoo, the morning wasn’t getting any younger (and neither was I), so it was time to get going. A rougher logging road departed the clearing on the right. Following this, I initially passed through a grassy, muddy stretch, and by keeping the peak in front of me, I navigated along the subsequent logging and skidder roads, so that I was within 0.55 of South Baker before finally turning into the woods. Initially they were pretty open, but as I drew closer to the top of the ridge, there were an increasing number of thicker spots that needed to be side stepped. By following the steepest contour, I eventually came out at a flattish summit. I could see another peak to the east, and as much as I would have liked that to be Middle Baker, the GPS verified that it was South. I suppose that was actually a good thing, since South has a much more defined high point than the sub-peak I was on initially, so once I got over there I was able to locate the canister almost immediately, along with the old rusted bucket and the remnants of the previous summit jar.

Once I was signed in and had enjoyed the moment of one down, it was time to move on to Middle Baker, which was about 0.6 miles away. Having heard about the herd path going to the col, I wondered how it connected to the summit of South, but looking at the dense patch of new spruce trees growing amongst standing dead wood, I could see no such path, and could only wonder how JimC, Mhrsebago, and Onestep had descended into the col not so long ago. With no obvious course of least resistance, I simply forged ahead, and once I dropped down a bit the woods opened up. I even found a slight herd path, but it didn’t last very long. Regardless, I had enough room to maneuver around the denser stuff, and with the day’s clear conditions, I could frequently see Middle through the trees and could adjust my course accordingly.

Getting to the next peak proved to be very straightforward in such conditions, and once I was near the summit, I found a herd path that led me right to the high point. Middle has a rather flat summit, so I can only imagine how frustrating it must have been for Papa Bear and Spencer to get there and find they’d have to hunt around for the canister. I was very fortunate that it was waiting for me, suspended from a tree in the summit clearing, so I had no trouble locating it. Once the summit ritual was repeated, it was time to move on to the main peak.

Up to that point, the going hadn’t been too bad (certainly better than I had expected), but I was anticipating that the two most difficult sections of the hike would be the stretches between Middle and North, and the descent from North back to the car. I just hoped I’d be ready for them.

At first, the going wasn’t too bad, since the herd path continued over the summit and started down into the next col. I thought this would be a tricky part, since I would be trying to follow and stay on a thick ridge while it twisted to the north. However, due to the clear weather and continually hitting places where I could see where I was headed, it wasn’t too bad. There were even some slight clearings in the col, which really aided in my obsnav. As I began climbing to the heights ahead, there were certainly dense spots, but there was also room to maneuver around the worst of them, and having been at it for a few hours now, I was growing accustomed to navigating the vegetation and plowing through it.

Continuing forward, I reached the rocky summit bumps on the south shoulder of Baker. Like Papa Bear, I had a Kodak moment, and used the visibility the outlooks provided to determine my approach to the Baker summit. Thanks to his trip report, I knew to ignore the first two bumps and gun for the third. At that point, I assumed following the top of the ridge would be the thickest going, so once I dropped into the col between the south shoulder and the main peak, I then stayed on the right side of the ridge, following the contour and planning on not gaining the top of the ridge until I was right under the true highpoint.

In carrying out this plan, I really had no way of determining accurately at what point I should turn left and climb the final stretch (short of taking out the GPS, which I didn’t feel like doing), but by going by gut feeling, I turned left when it seemed I had gone far enough. Initially, I though I might have turned prematurely and was about to come out on the middle bump. However, when I finally gained the height of land, there it was, the summit canister. For a moment it seemed too good to be true. But, there it was, the plastic Gatorade bottle Spencer had planted a year ago. It had quite a bit of water in it too, so I wonder if perhaps Gatorade bottles don’t make the best canisters. The register inside was wet, but since the pages were getting full, I simply wrote on and donated some of my own blank pages. I just couldn’t believe I had just summitted the great Baker Mountain. It was supposed to be the most difficult peak on the Fifty Finest List, and yet I had made it. I was pretty ecstatic. But then again, I hadn’t done it alone, since I was greatly aided by Papa Bear’s comprehensive trip report, as well as words of advice from the Bushwhacking All-star Team. Just overall, it was a very happy and fulfilling moment.

 

[Nate]

The Bakers Continued

When it became time to leave, I thought the final section wouldn’t be that bad, since even if I encountered some dense spots, gravity would help me plow through them and reach the more open woods lower down. I know that the O/J/M Party had gunned for the vehicles right from the summit, but on Topozone it looked like the logging road that goes into the Baker/Lilly Bay valley would be closer to the Baker summit, and once I reached the road it would be real easy going to return to the car. This certainly seemed easier than bushwhacking a longer distance to go straight back to the car. However, when I was on the Baker summit, the waypoint I’d pulled off of Topozone for the end of the logging road was 1.8 miles away, while the car itself was only 1.4. I guess Onestep & Co. were right. Not to mention that if I did go to the logging road in the valley, I would have to follow it at least a mile to get to the main logging road, and from that intersection it was another mile up hill to get back to the car. The 1.4 to go the direct route really didn’t seem like too bad of a distance.

Anyway, I found dropping off the summit wasn’t too bad, and by going steadily, before too long I started reaching patches of open woods. Through the trees I could see South Baker, so I held a course for the western base of the mountain. Mindful of Onestep’s warning about the drainage off of Middle, I kept an eye out for one, knowing not to follow it if I did find one. I never did, but when I reached the bowl between the Bakers, there were some stream crossings to negotiate. Luckily, for each one I came out of the woods not far from a place I could readily cross.

Continuing along, I eventually came to the top of the skidder roads. I accidentally dropped down the wrong one, but since it was right next to the one I should have used, I only had to walk an extra fifth of a mile to reach the car. Needless to say, I was pretty jazzed when I did. After all, it was a gorgeous autumn afternoon, and I had just completed a very successful bushwhack over the Bakers. This was supposed to be the most difficult and longest bushwhack on the Fifty Finest List, but because I was lucky and picked my spots, and had listened to the advice of bushwhackers far smarter than myself, it proved to not be as hard as I had anticipated. Life was good.

 

[Nate]

The Lily Bays, the Easy (ier) Way

Lily Bay and East Lily Bay, October 9, 2006

With the Bakers conquered, I wanted to visit the B-52 crash site while I was in the area. Not realizing it was on Elephant Mountain (for some reason, I was under the impression it was just a short way down Prong Pond Road), it was a longer drive out there than I had anticipated. It’s very much a worthwhile spot to visit and a lovely drive through the Maine woods (especially on such a beautiful autumn day), but with the afternoon quickly slipping by and the approach to the Lily Bays still to be scouted out, I didn’t stay at the memorial sight as long as I could have. But, well, there’s always next time.

Anyway, based on the advice of the O/J/M/PP Party, I wanted to give approaching the Lily Bays from the north a whirl. From the drive up to Big Spencer, I’d noticed that there was one logging road between Prong Pond and Frenchtown Road that seemed to head in the right direction. At its northeastern end it’s signed as Meadow Brook Road, but is unnamed in both Delorme and where it ends at Kokadjo Road. It’s 4.6 miles north of the main gate of Lily Bay State Park. Proceeding down it from the paved road, at 1.7 miles Meadow Brook Road makes a hard left, while a rougher road continues straight ahead. Proceeding forward, this logging road climbs for a bit, in stages, but once it finally starts to drop off the rise, another drivable logging road comes in on the right (it’s basically the first obviously drivable logging road you’ll come to after turning off Meadow Brook Road). Making this right, the road climbs further uphill, then ends at a T-intersection. Taking another right at this point, the subsequent road is flat initially, and as one goes along they’ll find there are decent views to the north and west. This road then starts to go downhill and turns to the left. It ends a short distance after this, at the foot of West Lily Bay. Imagine my excitement when I was scouting these roads, and found I could drive into within 0.75 miles of West Lily Bay.

The next morning was another fine, clear autumn day, so unfortunately I didn’t have as early of a start as I would have liked, as I didn’t hit the woods until nine. But, with the Bakers conquered the previous day, and my first target right in front of me and less than a mile away, I was feeling pretty good. By heading in from the old logging yard, I passed though the initial raspberry bushes, then dropped down into a gully and crossed a stream. The trees were thicker near the water, but once I was out of the gully I was in open woods again. For the initial stretch, it was easy going, but for some patches of small hardwood trees that wanted to get in the way. But, for the most part, it wasn’t bad, so I was hoping this would last all the way to the summit. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

I was probably within about 0.4 miles of the summit (I didn’t bother to check the GPS to know the exact distance, since the peak was obviously above me somewhere) when I encountered just about a wall of spruce trees. This first copse was avoidable, but the subsequent ones were less so, so before long I had to fight my way forward. At this point I’d look for patches of daylight between the trees, knowing this designated more open spots. Most of these proved to be fleeting. Occasionally I’d even encounter moss-floored open areas of forest, but sadly these also proved to be more short lived than I would have liked. There were even some fir waves to negotiate, but at least I was able to navigate around some of these, through the less dense trees on the fringes.

Just overall, the dense trees made it a struggle to proceed forward, so it was really slow going. But I had all day, and by persisting I made it to the top of West. I found a herd path up there, but it didn’t go very far, and since it didn’t lead to the canister, it took about five minutes to find the true highpoint. Needless to say, I was pretty happy to find it. After signing in and taking a load off for a moment, it was time to get going again.

At the time, I was under the impression that the north face of the peak was relatively less dense, but having come up that way, from what I saw looking down at the east face, it didn’t seem any worse, and it at least offered the advantage of being the shorter route down to the col. Descending on that side entailed initially passing through a fir wave, which wasn’t fun, and the dense stuff continued all the way into the col. Man, was it slow going. Having seen Erik Schlimmer’s register entry about the herd path, to me the big question was “How on earth do I find a little herd path in all this dense spruce?” Nor did it help that from West Peak the GPS said it was about 1.64 miles to East Lily Bay.

But, I persevered, and as I plowed along the western half of the col, I encountered a series of clearings, which roughly increased in size as I went along. Soon, I reached a large clearing on the north side of the col, which made things much easier. I even found some flagging, but because it didn’t mark a worn path, it was difficult to follow. There was enough openings in the woods that it was difficult to locate a defined herd path, but I tried nonetheless. As I drew toward the base of the East Peak, these interconnected clearings decreased in size until soon the dense woods closed in again.

Since the J/M/O/P Party had reported less dense woods once dropping off the north side of the col, I tried this too. I had to deal with some dense spots in order to drop off, and once there, I found a few sections of open woods, but with a fair amount of dense stuff too, ultimately it proved not to be an improvement. It was a struggle to regain the ridge again, but once there I stumbled on the flagging again, which I tried to follow some more. The ridgeline was narrow enough that when I did loose the marginally marked route, by simply trying to follow the path of least resistance, I’d often find it again. Plus, thanks to Onestep et al. I knew to ignore the western bump on the East Peak, and instead gun for the eastern one.

As I reached what seemed to be the northeastern corner of the large, flat East Lily Bay summit, I figured I had to be close to the highpoint. However, when I consulted the GPS, it said I still had about 0.7 miles to go. “HOW?” I wondered, as it appeared I was running out of ridge. I spotted a prominent summit bump nearby, and for giggles, I climbed it. And lo, there was the canister. Due to the GPS, I totally wasn’t expecting it, and thus initially had trouble believing I was at the right spot. But, once I climbed a tree at the spot, I could see the lesser western bump, and beyond it West Lily Bay, while to the southeast was Baker. Since I was clearly at the correct spot, despite what the GPS said, I deleted the coordinates I had entered for that peak, and took a new waypoint. I later found out that the problem lay with the fact that sometimes with Topozone, when dealing with decimal degrees, instead of going from 0.99 minutes to the next full minute, it gives a coordinate of 0.100 minutes. To you or I, that looks like a tenth of a minute (you can put as many zeroes as you want to the right of the one, but it’s still only a tenth of a minute). However, I didn’t learn until later that Topozone will sometimes give a coordinate of 0.100 minutes, which I guess it thinks is that happy area between 1.0 and 0.99 minutes. Hence, by reading and entering it as a tenth of a minute instead, the GPS was directing me to a gully well down the eastern slopes of East Lily Bay.

Anyhoo, despite all my misadventures, I had reached both peaks, and it was now time to make tracks back to the car. With a correct reading, I found that the east peak was about a mile from the west, and that I was also about 0.93 miles from the car. It appeared I was in okay shape, since as a worst case scenario, all I had to do was bomb down through the rough stuff on the upper climes of the mountain, and once I was down in the more open woods I could more easily navigate my way back to the car. But, having just seen what the lay of the land was, I thought my best bet would be to drop down into the col, and then head back to the road.

Plus, from what I experienced on the out trip, I decided not to slavishly follow the flagging, and instead just follow the path of least resistance. This proved to be a good plan, as it was much easier going getting back to the col. Once there, I figured I’d just stick to the large clearings, and once those ended, I’d then set a bearing to the car. Indeed, by departing the col toward its low point, I stumbled upon a herd path that led off the mountain. It was well defined enough that I had no trouble following it, and by going along, it led me down to the hardwoods before suddenly petering out. However, I’m not complaining, since from that point it was an easy bomb down through the open woods to get back to the car. Ergo, in a short time I was cutting through raspberry bushes with the car right in front of me. Life was very good!

For dessert that day, I made quick work of Number Four Mountain (whose parking lot is only 2.3 miles down Meadow Brook Road from its intersection with the logging road that leads off toward Lily Bay). Once at the top of the fire tower ladder, the views encompassed my entire weekend, with Big Spencer to the north, and the Bakers and Lily Bays to the south. Since I’d conquered all the major peaks I’d meant to that weekend (and had a really strong finish on the Lily Bays to end on) I was feeling pretty positive about the whole experience. I just remember not wanting to hurry down that last mountain too much, instead trying to soak up all the beauty of the Maine woods in all its autumnal glory. After all, I know such placid, magical moments are fleeting and should be enjoyed to their fullest, since soon enough the rains of life will return.

 

[dms]

Wow!

Lily Bays and Bakers solo!!! I am very impressed Nate! Nice report and smart use of trip info from PB, and Onestep. Congrats on quite an accomplishment, you should be very proud of this exploit.

 

[Gamehiker]

Thank You for this. Since all the people I have met on this site have already done these peaks I expect to be plodding my way to the top of these alone. Knowing it can be done gives me encouragement.
Have you done Barren yet? and if not would you like to plan a trip to it next year? Let me know.
(Gamehiker) Jim

 

[onestep]

Lily Bays and Bakers solo!!! I am very impressed Nate! Nice report and smart use of trip info from PB, and Onestep. Congrats on quite an accomplishment, you should be very proud of this exploit.

Yeah, what he said!!

Onestep

 

[Papa Bear]

I agree it's an impressive couple of whacks. Maybe we should all take a lesson and go after some of these peaks and forget they are on the "ten worst whacks list" - just take plenty of time, be smart about routes and prior information and just do it! I'm inspired myself to go after some of the tougher ones.

Let's face it, try as I might, it's usually only about half the time I can manage to link up with others (I'm sure everyone is in that boat as well). You you gotta be willing to go solo to get the job done.

Thanks Nate for your report.

 

[Nate]

Guys, thank you for taking the time to read through my long-winded trip report.

I remember when Mhrsebago, JimC., and Onestep came back from doing the Bakers, completely soaked and covered in pine needles, and I was so jealous of them. After all, they had just knocked off the toughest bushwhack on the Fifty Finest List, and had preceeded it with one of the densest whacks in New England, and they had done so with a really good group, while I still hadn't hiked to any of those summits.

At the outset, I wasn't even completely certain I'd be able to bag all these peaks solo on the first try. After all, it had taken me two attempts just to reach the canister on Mendon. However, I greatly benefitted from the trip reports everyone else had posted, as well as from having just about perfect weather conditions. Heading into the Lily Bays from the north really was a capital idea, and I don't have any second thoughts about that approach. Just overall, I was simply very lucky. Because of the way events unfolded, I don't envy the J/M/O Party any more, since it turns out I bagged these peaks in much better conditions, so it turned out to not be a miserable experience at all. Even the porcupines left me alone.

Ultimately, the experience of doing these peaks proved to be very enlightening, since now I know that if I can do the Lily Bays, (given the proper conditions and route research) I can do anything in New England. That's very empowering.

But, as for solo hiking, it certainly isn't unheard of for these peaks. After all, according to the registers, both Erik Schlimmer and Glen Houle (and Oncoman on Baker) reached these summits solo in recent memory, and I'm sure there's been countless others. While bushwhacking alone is sometimes more convenient, it can also be a potentially dangerous situation, especially on some of the more remote peaks. After all, if anything had befallen me during my hikes, at best I'd be looking at a long, miserable limp back to the car, if not much, much worse. It is really difficult for SAR teams to locate people in such dense brush. Besides, bushwhacking with a group is far more enjoyable and much more encouraged. That day we did the Southwest Peak on Big Spencer was easily one of the most fun whacks I've ever been on, and I'm greatly looking forward to my next opportunity to hit the woods with those guys. Unfortunately, with snow conditions in the mountains just around the corner, that will have to wait until next summer.

 

[mhrsebago]

Nate, great trip!... I'm very impressed that you attempted the northern approach to the Lily Bays. The natural tendency on these more difficult peaks is to follow the traditional routes, although taking a chance pioneering a new path can have its rewards (and pitfalls). When we were up there earlier this year, the northern side appeared to have potential - thanks for confirming our impression.

 

[spencer]

Hi Nate,

I'm glad you had a great trip. I really enjoyed reading your report!

I suspect the flagging you found was pretty fresh? It's part of a trail that has just recently (VERY recently) been flagged over the Bakers and Lilies, connecting a few other older trails. Expect those ridges to be paved by the feet of many hikers in the coming years. They'll just be 3k peaks of lore before long...

I'm surprised the Gatorade bottle had water in it. I remember that day well. It was all we had with us b/c I had forgotten my bottle kit. Someone must not have put the cap back on tightly b/c clearly Gatorade bottles don't leak (I suspect we can trust Gatorade's research department!). Who's been there in the last year?

Spencer

 

[RoySwkr]

I'm very impressed that you attempted the northern approach to the Lily Bays. The natural tendency on these more difficult peaks is to follow the traditional routes,

The PeakMaster & I climbed the Lily Bay peaks from the N ~20 years ago so I would call it a traditional route, it sounds like the road has been extended a little but it wasn't the lower part that was hard

But, as for solo hiking, it certainly isn't unheard of for these peaks.

JRPerson climbed all the NE3k solo in pre-GPS days, as his reported method was to cruise over to Jackman from Randolph, dash up a peak with minimal gear, write a pithy comment in the register, and return home that night, perhaps it isn't surprising that nobody went with him

I know another guy who used to bushwhack alone at night in winter, that's why he was #1

It's part of a trail that has just recently (VERY recently) been flagged over the Bakers and Lilies, connecting a few other older trails. Expect those ridges to be paved by the feet of many hikers in the coming years. They'll just be 3k peaks of lore before long...

I believe there were a few tough souls who climbed Bakers & Lily Bays all in a day, with a trail that will be routine (just like the 3 Travelers now). I still think this ridge like all high ranges deserves a trail.

 

[dms]

I believe there were a few tough souls who climbed Bakers & Lily Bays all in a day

I did all five in a day with John and Bea Paisley and Anne Gwynne. We started at daybreak and we took the "wrong" ridge down from Lily Bay and ended up in a nasty swamp and did not get back to our vehicles until 10 pm. Maybe dumb is a better word than tough.

 

[Papa Bear]

Hi Spencer
...

I suspect the flagging you found was pretty fresh? It's part of a trail that has just recently (VERY recently) been flagged over the Bakers and Lilies, connecting a few other older trails. Expect those ridges to be paved by the feet of many hikers in the coming years. They'll just be 3k peaks of lore before long...
...

Spencer

Hi Spencer

Who's doing this? Plum Creek? I asked Chris Keene (email correspondence), who proposed the North Woods Loop Trail (years ago) and he doesn't know about it. If Plum Creek is going it alone, it's too bad. Chris' club (Moosehead Hikers Club) would be a good local resourse to partner with.

Maybe they (Plum Creek) are tring to look good for the next LURT hearing. BTW, How is that plan progressing?

Oh yeah, when are we doing the Lilys? Unfinished business for us, I believe. Let's get there before the tail builders.

 

[Nate]

Spencer, I too presume the fllagging is associated with putting in the trail. If so, at this point, it appeared they're still just marking the route and haven't gotten around to actually clearing one out yet. But, if work has begun, it's just a matter of time before an outright trail exists. But, from what I saw, the route drops off the ridge at the nadir of the Lily Bay col, so either it won't ultimately summit West Lily Bay, or it simply marks an access route for the trail workers. I couldn't tell.

As for the Bakers, I didn't see any sign of flagging. Then again, those woods are just thick enough that it would be easy not to. Further, regarding all the water I found in the Baker canister, Heaven only knows how it got in there, be it prior visitors failed to reclose it properly (since the Pape Bear/Spencer Expedition, that summit has been visited by Onestep/Mhrsebago/JimC, Glen Houle, Oncoman, and perhaps others that I'm failing to remember right now), or perhaps the plastic is starting to break down in the sun, or it simply wasn't designed to keep liquids in/out over extended periods of time.