Mad Townie
New member
First it was supposed to be last March, but I fell just a tiny bit short of the Redington summit, I figure about a tenth of the hike. So I've spent the summer stuck at 66.9. (Here's the TR.) Then it was supposed to be Saturday, but it looked like cold rain and I'm a rain wimp, so I changed it to Sunday, losing a few companions in the process .
Then Saturday afternoon, October 13th, arrived and my son Tom and I left southern Maine bound for central Maine and the hike to Redington. We met Chinooktrail at the end of the Sugarloaf access road, took a look at the brown ski trails, and headed in on the Caribou Pond Road, or Caribou Valley Road, or Carrabassett Valley Road, or whatever you want to call it. After setting up our tents near the AT crossing, the three of us drove back out to a fine dinner at Tufulio's. It was sort of an anticipatory celebration, I guess we were pretty optimistic. Either that or determined! Then back "home" to a quiet evening with the sound of the Carrabassett in the background.
After some overnight rain, we got up in the morning and prepared to hit the road toward Redington. A black vehicle went by, I waved, and when it pulled over GO got out! What a pleasant turn of events--I knew he might join us, but with all the changes I wasn't certain that he'd make it. So we had a local guide for the occasion.
The air was cool but not cold, and after parking next to a Subaru (what else?) just before the really sketchy last bridge we shouldered our packs and started on up the road. The rain had saturated the colors of the leaves, and the walk was beautiful.
Then we had our first treat--a few leaves with the first snow of the year on them. Before long we got to the Caribou Pond outlet and turned right toward Redington. The walk is gradual, but it is consistently uphill without much variation in the pitch. Before long we saw the choppings on the side of
Redington, along with the mass of clouds where the summit belonged. For the first time we saw the frosting on the hillside, with a pretty clear demarcation of the snow/rain boundary. The skies were blue for the most part.
Most of this hike is on gravelly and rocky roads, and I found myself nostalging (yes it's a word, I just made it up ) about northern Maine, where the back roads are similar, with fields of hay where trees were cut, young spruce and fir growth backed by older, taller trees, and rough roads winding through it all. I felt right at home.
Before long we got to the corner Shrink Rap and I had missed last March while searching for the nonexistent snowmobile trail to the summit. The flagging was obvious, as was the trail. So we left the road (which continues up to the col between Redington and South Crocker) and headed up the trail. At no time did we see anything even approaching a bushwhack or herd path--this is a well worn, though unmarked trail.
The trail goes pretty straight until you reach a small open area, then it takes a right and starts up the summit cone. That part was rougher and slipperier, and the little bit of snow greased the roots up pretty well.
We got to the summit in about 15 minutes from that turn, the hike as a whole having taken two pretty leisurely hours from the last sketchy bridge. There was a bit more snow on the summit, just enough to make everything look really good. Well, everything except the tower, that didn't look too good. I suppose the rime ice and the wind will do their work over time and it will come crashing down someday.
We had forgotten to bring along a new notebook, and the one in the cannister is completely full. Just enough room for our entry. Interestingly, the entry immediately before ours said, "10/8/07--GO again!" I think he likes it up there . But anyway, if you're planning to head up there, please bring a new notebook. Otherwise I'll have to do it sometime this winter.
After we took a few photos, Tom pulled out the celebratory beverage. And what would be more fitting for this most Maine-y of Maine mountains than Moxie?!?!? After a quick slug of that foul brew we headed back down.
The views on the way down were wonderful. Spaulding poked its summit out of the clouds from time to time, and it, too, was well frosted with the season's first snow. The bowl spread out before us with its shades of green, yellow and brown under the blue and white skies. In no time we were back to the truck and heading down the road.
On our way out the Caribou, you know, the CVR, we stopped to take some evidence of the colors. There, peeking through the trees, was Sugarloaf, the higher portions of its trails beginning to look almost skiable! What a great view for the end of a hike, the end of a list, and the beginning of who knows what next?
So a mountain that was becoming something I "had to get out of the way" turned into one of my favorites of the 67, one to which I will return many times. I love it when a mountain does that to me!
Thanks to everyone who hiked each of those 67 mountains with me, from that first summit of Bigelow's West Peak in 1975 with my first love, to those I shared with old friends, to the ones my kids have made so special, and finally to those I've hiked with many of you from VFTT over the past couple years. And a particular thanks to Tom, Chinooktrail and GO, and Redington itself, for making the day wonderful.
What a trip! I hope it never ends.
Oh, if you don't believe me about the colors, the views or the frosting, or even if you do, check here for the pics.
Then Saturday afternoon, October 13th, arrived and my son Tom and I left southern Maine bound for central Maine and the hike to Redington. We met Chinooktrail at the end of the Sugarloaf access road, took a look at the brown ski trails, and headed in on the Caribou Pond Road, or Caribou Valley Road, or Carrabassett Valley Road, or whatever you want to call it. After setting up our tents near the AT crossing, the three of us drove back out to a fine dinner at Tufulio's. It was sort of an anticipatory celebration, I guess we were pretty optimistic. Either that or determined! Then back "home" to a quiet evening with the sound of the Carrabassett in the background.
After some overnight rain, we got up in the morning and prepared to hit the road toward Redington. A black vehicle went by, I waved, and when it pulled over GO got out! What a pleasant turn of events--I knew he might join us, but with all the changes I wasn't certain that he'd make it. So we had a local guide for the occasion.
The air was cool but not cold, and after parking next to a Subaru (what else?) just before the really sketchy last bridge we shouldered our packs and started on up the road. The rain had saturated the colors of the leaves, and the walk was beautiful.
Then we had our first treat--a few leaves with the first snow of the year on them. Before long we got to the Caribou Pond outlet and turned right toward Redington. The walk is gradual, but it is consistently uphill without much variation in the pitch. Before long we saw the choppings on the side of
Redington, along with the mass of clouds where the summit belonged. For the first time we saw the frosting on the hillside, with a pretty clear demarcation of the snow/rain boundary. The skies were blue for the most part.
Most of this hike is on gravelly and rocky roads, and I found myself nostalging (yes it's a word, I just made it up ) about northern Maine, where the back roads are similar, with fields of hay where trees were cut, young spruce and fir growth backed by older, taller trees, and rough roads winding through it all. I felt right at home.
Before long we got to the corner Shrink Rap and I had missed last March while searching for the nonexistent snowmobile trail to the summit. The flagging was obvious, as was the trail. So we left the road (which continues up to the col between Redington and South Crocker) and headed up the trail. At no time did we see anything even approaching a bushwhack or herd path--this is a well worn, though unmarked trail.
The trail goes pretty straight until you reach a small open area, then it takes a right and starts up the summit cone. That part was rougher and slipperier, and the little bit of snow greased the roots up pretty well.
We got to the summit in about 15 minutes from that turn, the hike as a whole having taken two pretty leisurely hours from the last sketchy bridge. There was a bit more snow on the summit, just enough to make everything look really good. Well, everything except the tower, that didn't look too good. I suppose the rime ice and the wind will do their work over time and it will come crashing down someday.
We had forgotten to bring along a new notebook, and the one in the cannister is completely full. Just enough room for our entry. Interestingly, the entry immediately before ours said, "10/8/07--GO again!" I think he likes it up there . But anyway, if you're planning to head up there, please bring a new notebook. Otherwise I'll have to do it sometime this winter.
After we took a few photos, Tom pulled out the celebratory beverage. And what would be more fitting for this most Maine-y of Maine mountains than Moxie?!?!? After a quick slug of that foul brew we headed back down.
The views on the way down were wonderful. Spaulding poked its summit out of the clouds from time to time, and it, too, was well frosted with the season's first snow. The bowl spread out before us with its shades of green, yellow and brown under the blue and white skies. In no time we were back to the truck and heading down the road.
On our way out the Caribou, you know, the CVR, we stopped to take some evidence of the colors. There, peeking through the trees, was Sugarloaf, the higher portions of its trails beginning to look almost skiable! What a great view for the end of a hike, the end of a list, and the beginning of who knows what next?
So a mountain that was becoming something I "had to get out of the way" turned into one of my favorites of the 67, one to which I will return many times. I love it when a mountain does that to me!
Thanks to everyone who hiked each of those 67 mountains with me, from that first summit of Bigelow's West Peak in 1975 with my first love, to those I shared with old friends, to the ones my kids have made so special, and finally to those I've hiked with many of you from VFTT over the past couple years. And a particular thanks to Tom, Chinooktrail and GO, and Redington itself, for making the day wonderful.
What a trip! I hope it never ends.
Oh, if you don't believe me about the colors, the views or the frosting, or even if you do, check here for the pics.