Part 1: First Encounter - May 19, 2006
I was scheduled to spend the weekend hiking and camping with my brother up in the Cab. Valley. Since I was able to get all of Friday off (while he could only get half a day), I wanted to get up to the area the night before, so that I could maximize the amount of hiking I could get in before the appointed meeting time. However, work on Thursday ended up running so late that I wasn't able to reach Maine until midday that Friday.
On the way up, it had been overcast for much of the trip, but I had encountered only a few patches of rain. Hence, I thought I would still have decent hiking conditions. The original plan was to visit both peaks on Aziscohos, then hopefully stop by West Kennebago. For the first mountain, since the North Trail described in the MMG was the shortest, that was my route of choice.
I was able to find the trailhead without a problem (the directions in the Guide were still accurate), and there's even a green street sign that marks it that says "AZISCOOS MTN TRAIL." Once parked, I quickly got ready, then headed off.
Once on the trail, I looked for the register and the trail sign that the Guide describes as being about ten yards in from the road, but I was unable to find either. I did notice that there has been a fair amount of logging activity in that initial patch of woods. For the first half mile, the trail keeps crossing paths of slash and skidder roads, and is only sparingly marked with blue and red blazes and blue surveyor's tape. It would join skidder roads and soon turn off again, and overall it was difficult to follow the trail through there in many spots. Plus, due to a combination of all the logging activity, the recent rain, and it being the tail end of spring thaw/mud season, that section of trail was quite muddy and wet, so I was really glad to be wearing hiking boots.
After this first half mile or so, the trail then finally makes a left into the woods and departs the logging activity for good. From then on it's relatively easy to follow the rest of the way up the mountain (with the exception of one or two open spots where it took me a moment to figure out where the trail was going). At first it passes through really open deciduous forest (and is especially so because of all the logging going on in the vicinity of the trail), which becomes less open the further one gets from the timber harvesting. The evergreens kick in at about the time the trail begins to really climb. The conditions were really wet that day, so I had to take care on the exposed rock surfaces. Since it was still early in the season, in some of the crevices in the rocks thick chunks of ice still lingered. As I progressed up the mountain, I emerged more and more into a cloud. 4/5's of the way up the sky started to drip, and once I reached the junction with the Tower Man's Trail a soft rain began to fall.
From there, it was just a short distance to the summit of Low Aziscohos (LAZ). Needless to say, when I reached the old tower anchors, the views were nill. I still wanted to venture over to Greater Aziscohos (GAZ) if reasonably possible. I was sure that on a clear day GAZ would be as evident as the nose on my face, but in that day's conditions I had no idea where it was. Bringing out the GPS, it told me it was only about half a mile away, but where? The thing kept disagreeing with itself in stating the direction. I started walking into the woods in what I thought was the correct direction, but less than ten steps in I decided it wasn't worth it. I just wasn't dressed for such cold, wet bushwhacking.
Since GAZ would have to wait for another day, I figured I could at least check out the Tower Man's Trail. Especially since it was the wider, friendlier-looking trail once I returned to the trail junction. However, once I started heading down it, it quickly narrowed, so I kept having to push overhanging soggy boughs out of my way. The branches also obscured the trail surface, so I kept inadvertantly stepping in puddles and was dreading tripping on obstacles unseen. As I continued down, the trail bed often doubled as a stream path, which was one more adversity to contend with.
It seemed that overall the Tower Man's Trail offers a more gradual descent than the Aziscohos Mountain Trail. Once I got down to the deciduous level of the forest, the trail would hit open sections where it would be difficult to determine where the trail was going. My task wasn't helped at all by the fact there was often a stream running down the pathbed and acting as if it was it's own. Nevertheless I perservered, even as the rain increased its intensity and the blue blazes grew fewer and farther between.
Once the trail flattened out, it crossed one final brook, and a short distance later it merged with an old logging road coming in from the left. This junction is marked by an old drainage pipe, so if you're heading in from the road and you see the large pipe, turn left.
I could hear the vehicles on the highway, so at this point I thought I was almost there. This last stretch on the old, pleasant logging ended up being longer than I thought it would be. Were I not so soaked or rained on, I'm sure I would have quite enjoyed it.
Ultimately I did come out at Route 16, at an anoymous cable gate. Since this trailhead is not marked in any way, you basically have to know it's the first logging road (gated or otherwise) on the right as you head east past the dam and the bridge over the Magalloway River.
At the road, I just had a drenching mile separating me from my dry car and warm cloths. With all the traffic that passed me en route, I'm a little surprised no one stopped to offer me a ride (after all, Mainers have a reputation of being friendly). Nevertheless, I plugged along, and soon was back at my beautiful, dry car.
Even though I had failed to bag GAZ, I was perfectly content to call it a wrap. That peak would have to wait for another day.
I was scheduled to spend the weekend hiking and camping with my brother up in the Cab. Valley. Since I was able to get all of Friday off (while he could only get half a day), I wanted to get up to the area the night before, so that I could maximize the amount of hiking I could get in before the appointed meeting time. However, work on Thursday ended up running so late that I wasn't able to reach Maine until midday that Friday.
On the way up, it had been overcast for much of the trip, but I had encountered only a few patches of rain. Hence, I thought I would still have decent hiking conditions. The original plan was to visit both peaks on Aziscohos, then hopefully stop by West Kennebago. For the first mountain, since the North Trail described in the MMG was the shortest, that was my route of choice.
I was able to find the trailhead without a problem (the directions in the Guide were still accurate), and there's even a green street sign that marks it that says "AZISCOOS MTN TRAIL." Once parked, I quickly got ready, then headed off.
Once on the trail, I looked for the register and the trail sign that the Guide describes as being about ten yards in from the road, but I was unable to find either. I did notice that there has been a fair amount of logging activity in that initial patch of woods. For the first half mile, the trail keeps crossing paths of slash and skidder roads, and is only sparingly marked with blue and red blazes and blue surveyor's tape. It would join skidder roads and soon turn off again, and overall it was difficult to follow the trail through there in many spots. Plus, due to a combination of all the logging activity, the recent rain, and it being the tail end of spring thaw/mud season, that section of trail was quite muddy and wet, so I was really glad to be wearing hiking boots.
After this first half mile or so, the trail then finally makes a left into the woods and departs the logging activity for good. From then on it's relatively easy to follow the rest of the way up the mountain (with the exception of one or two open spots where it took me a moment to figure out where the trail was going). At first it passes through really open deciduous forest (and is especially so because of all the logging going on in the vicinity of the trail), which becomes less open the further one gets from the timber harvesting. The evergreens kick in at about the time the trail begins to really climb. The conditions were really wet that day, so I had to take care on the exposed rock surfaces. Since it was still early in the season, in some of the crevices in the rocks thick chunks of ice still lingered. As I progressed up the mountain, I emerged more and more into a cloud. 4/5's of the way up the sky started to drip, and once I reached the junction with the Tower Man's Trail a soft rain began to fall.
From there, it was just a short distance to the summit of Low Aziscohos (LAZ). Needless to say, when I reached the old tower anchors, the views were nill. I still wanted to venture over to Greater Aziscohos (GAZ) if reasonably possible. I was sure that on a clear day GAZ would be as evident as the nose on my face, but in that day's conditions I had no idea where it was. Bringing out the GPS, it told me it was only about half a mile away, but where? The thing kept disagreeing with itself in stating the direction. I started walking into the woods in what I thought was the correct direction, but less than ten steps in I decided it wasn't worth it. I just wasn't dressed for such cold, wet bushwhacking.
Since GAZ would have to wait for another day, I figured I could at least check out the Tower Man's Trail. Especially since it was the wider, friendlier-looking trail once I returned to the trail junction. However, once I started heading down it, it quickly narrowed, so I kept having to push overhanging soggy boughs out of my way. The branches also obscured the trail surface, so I kept inadvertantly stepping in puddles and was dreading tripping on obstacles unseen. As I continued down, the trail bed often doubled as a stream path, which was one more adversity to contend with.
It seemed that overall the Tower Man's Trail offers a more gradual descent than the Aziscohos Mountain Trail. Once I got down to the deciduous level of the forest, the trail would hit open sections where it would be difficult to determine where the trail was going. My task wasn't helped at all by the fact there was often a stream running down the pathbed and acting as if it was it's own. Nevertheless I perservered, even as the rain increased its intensity and the blue blazes grew fewer and farther between.
Once the trail flattened out, it crossed one final brook, and a short distance later it merged with an old logging road coming in from the left. This junction is marked by an old drainage pipe, so if you're heading in from the road and you see the large pipe, turn left.
I could hear the vehicles on the highway, so at this point I thought I was almost there. This last stretch on the old, pleasant logging ended up being longer than I thought it would be. Were I not so soaked or rained on, I'm sure I would have quite enjoyed it.
Ultimately I did come out at Route 16, at an anoymous cable gate. Since this trailhead is not marked in any way, you basically have to know it's the first logging road (gated or otherwise) on the right as you head east past the dam and the bridge over the Magalloway River.
At the road, I just had a drenching mile separating me from my dry car and warm cloths. With all the traffic that passed me en route, I'm a little surprised no one stopped to offer me a ride (after all, Mainers have a reputation of being friendly). Nevertheless, I plugged along, and soon was back at my beautiful, dry car.
Even though I had failed to bag GAZ, I was perfectly content to call it a wrap. That peak would have to wait for another day.
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