O-J-I Does Not Spell Joy: Mount O-J-I –July 4, 2006

[Nate]

Anyone who was up at Baxter State Park during July Fourth Weekend this year won’t soon forget what a rainy weekend that was. Of the four days I was up there, there was only one Class One day the whole time. Nevertheless, on the last day, I wanted to get in one last hike before returning to drier climes. Since the conditions would be too damp for a bushwhack, I decided to visit Mount O-J-I, the last trailed 3k in the park I hadn’t yet claimed.

I awoke that morning to rain, which delayed my getting everything packed up. Dealing with soggy stuff is almost never fun. But, it began to taper off to a light sprinkle, and while I sat in the car, sulking and eating breakfast, it stopped altogether and it even looked like the sun might come out. With things starting to look promising, I quickly threw everything into the car and hustled over to the trailhead for the Mount O-J-I Trail. Once there, the sun actually did come out, so in a fit of optimism, I spread out the wet tent on top of the car to dry, and made sure to leave the windows good and down, lest the car’s interior get too hot under the peeking golden orb. After some final preparations, I set off down the trail to get me some OJ(I).

A fair amount of the first stretch of the O-J-I trail passes through low, wet land, but thankfully the park was good about putting in puncheon through there. However, due to the damp conditions of late, I had to take care when walking on the wet, slippery wood, lest I slide off into the drink. Traversing that section without incident, I soon reached the trail fork. Since I have the eighth edition of the Maine Mountain Guide, I had no idea the North Slide Trail is no longer maintained. I remember reading the sign at the trail junction as it told me this, as well as how the north slide is so steep and treacherous that it shouldn’t be attempted if it’s rained in the last two days. Then again, I’m young, so I turned left to take on the north slide (what the heck, I figured if things got really bad, I could either turn into the woods to skirt the nasty parts, or simply turn around).

Initially, the North Slide Trail is rather pleasant, as it early on crosses some old moldering bridges, then passes through an open stretch of woods as a compelling pathway through the ferns. I passed by the large boulder, and everything was going well to until I reached the next brook crossing. The crossing itself wasn’t a challenge, but once on the other side, the woods were open enough that where the trail went wasn’t readily apparent. It took me a good five or so minutes to find where it picks up again. From there, the trail roughly followed the brook, and continuing on, the path started to climb into the foot hills. A little bit after this, I reached a stretch of blowdowns that obstructed the trail, which presented varying degrees of difficulty in going around and picking up the path on the other side. I ultimately reached a point where the defunct path crossed the brook again and seemed to head toward the mountain, but then petered out. By that point, it was becoming time consuming and onerous to keep trying to find the trail again, so I simply turned around to try my luck on the south slide. I have no idea how close my turnaround point was to the start of the north slide.

Since I was now familiar with the old path, it didn’t take long to return to the trail fork. At that point, I could see that it was starting to cloud up, so since I was close to the car, I made a quick return to the parking lot to pick up my umbrella, just for giggles. But my optimism kept me from rolling up the car windows or sticking the damp tent inside.

 

[Nate]

O-J-I Misadventure cont'd

Anyhoo, I was soon back at the fork on the O-J-I Trail, and being a little wiser this time, I turned right, toward the south slide. Going that way, the trail quickly reaches another low area, but this one without any puncheons, and stepping stones were in short supply. Even when I had passed through most of the low area, the going was still hindered, this time by a stream that was running down the middle of the trail. Once I had escaped this, the subsequent walk through the open woods was short-lived (especially relative to what the North Slide Trail does), and was made even more so by some blowdowns that hadn’t yet been cleared. Anyway, after this flat section, the trail turned left, climbed through a gully, then reached the bottom of the south slide.

It starts as a sand slide, and as I climbed, the clouds behind me continued to drift in, completely obstructing what was left of the view. As I reached the higher ledgy sections, I could even feel some rain drops and saw them materialize on the rocks around me. That would have been a good time to unfurl the umbrella, but at the time my hands were full just trying to get through that steep section. As it was, the ledges were wet from all the recent rains, so there were quite a few tricky spots I had to negotiate. Thankfully all the tree branches I used to pull myself up held. The trickiest spot of all was the final patch of ledge, which was not only steep, but also covered by a sodden mass that made the surface incredibly slippery. It was all I could do to get up through it before I slipped down. Needless to say, I was pretty glad to finally reach where the trail leaves the slide behind and continues its climb through the woods.

By that point, the rain had picked up, so the umbrella started to earn its keep. Plus, it helped that I was under a canopy of spruce trees. I could also start to hear the occasional rumble of thunder, but since it wasn’t too loud and I didn’t see any lightening, I thought I’d be okay for the moment, especially since I knew I was close to the summit.

Anyway, proceeding onward, the trees started to dwindle in size, and as the trail began to flatten out there were puddles to avoid (it’s funny, you’d think I’d have bigger things to worry about at that point). Since the thunder continued, once the trees were shorter than I was, I put the umbrella down. I sure didn’t need a lightening rod at that point. Due to the conditions, I was hustling as much as I could. I reached one place that in the clouded-in conditions appeared to be the summit, but usually Baxter is good about spotting summit signs. Since I didn’t see one, I kept going. Passing through a slight saddle, I then did reach the sign. Just to be sure, I kept going until it was quite evident that the trail was dropping off the peak. Normally I’d go all the way to Old Jay Eye Rock, but given the conditions, that was going to have to wait for a clearer, less thurndery day. Passing by the summit sign again (on my return), I noticed that the true highpoint was a step off the trail not far to the southeast. Tagging this spot, I then broke into a jog back down the trail. Given those conditions, I needed to get off the summit as soon as I could.

I wished I could have broken into a sprint, but that’s hard to do on a hiking trail, especially one traversing wet rocks, so instead I had to make due, and soon enough I cleared the lower summit bump and was back at my umbrella. Once I reached trees taller than me I felt more comfortable about putting it to use, and once I reached trees that towered over me, I felt a little more comfortable about the situation. But, I still had the south slide to contend with, and descending it in those wet conditions sure wasn’t going to be a picnic. As I descended toward it, I had the GPS out, and in light of the recent ascent of Barren, I noted that the trail got within 1.38 miles or so of the Barren summit. So close, yet so very far.

Anyway, soon enough I reached the top of the slide. Aaahhh, this was going to be tricky. I was really dreading the first patch of steep ledge, that I knew would be particularly tractionless. Thus, I was pretty glad to find there was actually a herd path that bypassed it to the right. But, that’s all it helped me to sidestep, and I had to take the rest of the slide head on. I suppose in dry conditions this slide is no big deal, but with the rain coming down onto already slippery rocks, dental work was starting to seem more desirable than my current straits. All I could do was carefully plant one step at a time and hope that it would hold. There were a couple of places where the next good foot hold would be out of reach, so I’d have to make a controlled slide down to it, and hope that I didn’t overshoot it. All during my careful ministrations in this well exposed area, the thunder continued to rumble above (although I had yet to see any lightening).

But, by steadily working at my endeavor, I finally reached the sandy bottom part of the slide, and from there careful walking (on the loose patches of sand) brought me to the relative safety of the gully. The umbrella was unfurled again, which was just about a moot point, since I was already thoroughly drenched. But, as the rain increased to a downpour, at least it kept my head from being pelted. Passing through the flat section of trail beyond the gully, dealing with the blowdowns now seemed like an innocuous exercise relative to my descent down the slide. Reaching the stretch of trail submerged under the brook and subsequent lowlands, the going didn’t seem nearly as painstaking as before (and stepping stones seemed more plentiful), now that I didn’t care if my feet got wet or not (after all, they weren’t going to get any more soaked). Once arriving at the trail fork one final time, it was merely a matter of crossing the rain-slickened puncheon one last time before I arrived at long last back at the parking lot. I don’t know which was more drenched, me or the tent that I’d left draped over the car (but hey, at least it was still there). Wanting nothing more than to simply get warm and dry, I forced myself to take the extra time to throw the soggy thing in back before scooting into my four-wheel refuge from the rain.

Normally it is difficult to leave Baxter State Park at the end of a visit, but as the downpour continued, I felt no remorse about leaving this hiker’s paradise while there was still so much daylight left. The rain never even abated enough for me to have second thoughts about it.

Thus concluded this year’s big trip to Baxter State Park. But, I guess it’s to be expected, since it’s such an amazing place that not even the rain can stay away.

 

[dms]

Nice report Nate, the thought of being on those slides in wet weather is scary! The summit of OJI is great, try to get back to it on a nice day.

 

[RoySwkr]

I actually did the N-S loop in the rain back when it was open, the weather was so bad that climbing Brother or Katahdin was forbidden but we were allowed to do something harder I slipped & cut my hand but we survived otherwise.

 

[bogorchis]

O-J-I on a dry day!

Nate - The only time that I have been up O-J-I was on a dry day. We went up to the side of the North Slide in the woods, and then went out on to the slide further up. There was water flowing down the middle of the steepest section on the slide, even though it hadn't rained for a couple of days!

We went out to Old Jay Eye Rock where the views were great, and then came down the South Slide to the car. I can't imagine doing it in the rain.

The ranger at Daicey Pond spoke of rescuing someone who had taken a bad fall on the North Slide. Happy that I did not know that before climbing it.

It is quite a hike. Good for you to persist, but go back on a dry day and check out Old Jay Eye Rock!

 

[spencer]

I've been up N Slide and down S Slide on a crummy, very wet day. It was still fun, but not in the usual way...

The nasty part of the N Slide is that it's like walking on a beach that happens to be 45 or so degrees. Sand doesn't stay put very well, don't you know.

I like to hear people remember the good about Baxter trips.

There's always a good story hidden in an otherwise unenjoyable hike.

spencer