Some days on the trail can best be described as hell. After finishing up today I was really wishing we'd just skipped up to Rangeley like we talked about yesterday. I don't mean to imply that the whole day was a waste. Just that I could have lived my life quite nicely without hiking most of the terrain we covered today. Sitting in camp this morning and looking at the profile map, I could tell the day would be hard. Maybe I should have just left the map in my pocket.

Shortly after leaving the shelter this morning, the trail headed down over a thousand feet. I knew that immediately after we hit bottom, we would climb back up just a high. Sure enough the climb up over Moody Mountain was long, hot steep and worthless. Don't get me wrong there was a view. It's just that it was about the size of the picture window in my house. Just as we crested Moody, the trail began the dive off the other side another thousand feet before, starting the three mile two thousand foot climb up Old Blue. Just as we crossed the stream at the start of the climb up Blue, some hiker on an ATC outing said, "Boy have you got a climb ahead of you." That's just what I wanted to hear.

By the time we stopped for lunch on top of Old Blue, we'd hiked seven miles, descended some twenty three hundred feet and climbed some thirty three hundred feet. If that doesn't make you tired, I'm not sure what will. The prospects for the afternoon didn't appear much better. The climbs weren't as big, but the ridge had a number of small ones. In addition, all reports indicated that water would be scarce on the ridge.

There was another group from ATC on top of Blue when we arrived. We proceeded to Yogi all the food we could, then lay around another hour to recoup. I can't say I was to anxious to leave. I didn't relish a long dry hike with lots of ups and downs. That was our prospect if we planned to reach our destination for this evening. Cowboy and Easy 8 talked about taking an alternative trail. Lone Wolf suggested one that follows Bemis Stream. It would provide us with a good source of water and would be much gentler than the AT.

We were able to re-hydrate at a small creek along the AT before Elephant Mountain. Still, by the time we reached the Bemis Stream Trail, I was dizzy from the heat. The cutoff seemed to be the best alternative. Shortly after leaving the AT, I began to doubt the decision. The trail crossed through a clear cut and was difficult to navigate. Once past the cut, the trail conditions greatly improved. A little way down the trail we caught up with Cowboy and Easy 8. Cowboy was wasted. He'd just stepped off a bog bridge and buried his foot in the mud. He looked as bad as I felt.

Fortunately the trail along the stream was flatter and cooler than the ridge trail. Soon we hit a logging road that intercepted the AT just before Bemis Stream. Walking the three plus miles along the road was long, hot and boring. The large gravel stones made for uncomfortable footing. Still we made better time and were able to reach our goal.

At the stream, we setup our tarp and Easy proceeded to build a large fire on a gravel bar. Cowboy and Easy opted to go for a swim. Brandon also wanted to, but I could tell by Easy's screams that the water was much too cold. He'd have to wait until Rangeley tomorrow to get clean. By the time camp was all set up and dinner cooked, Shadow and Virginia Creeper arrived.

After finishing my portion of the dinner, I gave the rest to Brandon. He kept protesting that he'd eaten enough and didn't want any more. I told him no talking until he was done. Considering his desire to talk, the punishment was harsh. When he looked around for support from Easy, Virginia, Cowboy and Shadow, he couldn't find any. They all knew that for him to continue to put in the long miles he would need to eat more. A common phrase on the AT is "Eat till it hurts then eat some more." Finally he finished his supper to a round of cheers.

After a day of hell hiking, this evening turned out ok. At least tomorrow we enter a region of flat terrain.

Today was a hard day from the time we left. First there was a big climb with no view at the top. Then back down to the bottom. Followed by up, up, up again to the top of Blue where there would have been a view. The trees were too tall to see anything. We continued on then took a side trail that brought us off of the ridge down on an old logging road. The sun was hot in the mid-afternoon and we were moving fast. We soon got to the stream where we set up camp with Creeper, Cowboy, Easy 8, and Shadow. Easy 8 and Cowboy both went into the freezing cold stream but Easy regretted it. We ate dinner then all sat around the campfire Easy made and talked, then went to bed.

This was not a "Top 10 Day" on the all time Hit Parade of trail days. I spent this morning cleaning up communication messes I'd inadvertently created, and this afternoon trying to resolve my physical situation.

My knees were so swollen and painful this morning, I could hardly walk down the stairs. Even a hot bath didn't help today. I decided I'd better go to a doctor. Mary Ann said she’d take care of it for me, and made an appointment for this afternoon at the Mountain Health Clinic in Berlin (about 5 miles from Gorham).

However, it was during breakfast that all hell broke loose. I was called to the phone, and a very official sounding voice identified himself as being a Forest Service Warden from Andover, Maine. He asked me if I was Linda Moak (yes), wife of Ronald (yes), mother of Brandon (yes), daughter of Rebecca Moak (no, she's my sister-in-law). After answering all his questions to his satisfaction, I asked what this was all about. He said they'd had a report from a Rebecca that I was missing on the trail. I explained to him what really happened, and assured him I was perfectly safe. Sounds like he was under the impression that I had just been abandoned, injured, in the middle of the trail. I told him that I was hurt, but that I walked out on my own power, and that we had all agreed to meet in Rangeley tomorrow. He said they were just about to send a search team out onto the trail to look for me. I felt awful to have caused so much trouble, and spent half the morning trying to call all the interested parties to straighten things out.

Here's what happened. When Ronald was in Andover yesterday, he also called his parents' house, but unfortunately, he hadn't talked to me yet. He knew I planned to go to Gorham first, then eventually to Rangeley, but wasn't exactly sure where I was at that moment. When his parents weren't home, he left a characteristically cryptic message on their answering machine. It was something along the lines of, "Linda got sick and had to get off the trail. I'm not sure where she is, have you talked to her yet?" Well, needless to say, my in-laws flipped out, because it did sort of sound like Ronald and Brandon just walked off and left me, and had no idea where I was. I had tried to call the Moaks several times yesterday, but their line was always busy. Since I was unaware of the panic situation, I didn't realize it was so urgent to reach them. I just figured I'd try them again today.

When Ronald's parents called Rebecca, she decided something had to be done, so in her take-charge way, she started making phone calls to the Forest Service and the Maine State Police. She convinced them to bypass the formal missing persons route, which would have had to go through our home state of Oregon. The Forest Service was actually going to send rangers out on the trail looking for me.

I found out later that the only reason they were able to track me down by phone was that Lone Wolf and Whispering Pine just happened to be at the Forest Service office in Andover when the call came in. When asked if they knew me, they said yes and told them where I might be, and even gave them the phone number. I was giving the Forest Service too much credit for figuring out where I might have gone. I thought that since so much of their region is close to the AT, they would already be aware of places hikers frequent, so would try those places first. Not so. Apparently, they are not at all in tune with the network of the hiking community. Seems like it could save them a lot of trouble in similar emergency situations.

Anyway, I called and talked to Rebecca and the Moaks. The reason their line had been busy so much, was that Tom was logged onto the Internet researching trail resources to try and help look for me. Even this morning it took an hour to get through. I explained the whole story to everyone, and apologized for causing so much worry. Sure was glad when that episode was over. It was almost as traumatic for everyone as if I really was lost.

This afternoon’s trip to the doctor didn't brighten my day either. After examining me, the doctor said the best thing I could do was stay off my feet for at least a week, take high doses of anti-inflammatories, and ice down my knees several times a day. After a week, I could gradually start exercising again for short periods each day. His recommendation was against continuing to hike on Saturday. He felt the risk of long-term damage was too great. But he also said he understood I how important this might be to me, and I had to make my own choice.

That wasn't what I wanted to hear, but it was more or less what I expected. He gave me a prescription for 800 mg ibuprofen tablets (we're talkin' serious pills here), and sent me on my way. Ironically, I got a ride to the clinic and back on the Freedom Express van, which is the local senior shuttle service. They way I'm shuffling around, I certainly feel like a senior citizen.

Back at Hiker's Paradise I debated about how to travel the mile or so to the drug store. Mary Ann would have taken me, but I was trying to retain at least a bit of independence. I finally decided that cycling would be about the same pain factor as walking, but it would be over quicker. Opted for the bike. Filled the prescription and bought two neoprene knee braces and a couple ice packs. Also picked up more iodine tablets to tide the guys over until Monson. My knees hurt so much on the way back that I stopped at McDonald's, got a burger and a milkshake, and took a pill.  Then I sat there and waited till the pill kicked in enough to ride the rest of the way.

Right now, between new knee braces, ice packs and another mega-dose of Vitamin-I, my knees feel a bit better. But, they could also buckle up under me at the slightest jarring. It's not exactly conducive to tackling more mountains. I am hoping for a two-day miracle cure.